#this is what happens when you’re a metalhead with a degree in bio & also just a massive. MASSIVE dork.

[sigmadecay]

Taxonomic Classification of Cephalometallicum

Hi sciblr :) I wanted to post a breakdown of some of the interesting species in the genus Cephalometallicum, or as they’re more commonly known, metalheads! This genus is characterized by plumage that is often dark and sometimes armored, its distinct vocalizations, and its complex and often violent social behaviors. This list is non-exhaustive, just some species I thought were worth highlighting ^_^

1. Cephalometallicum corpus

By far the most well-known species in the genus, C. corpus is what everyone pictures when they think of metalheads. Although they aren’t necessarily the most common variation, they are certainly the most memorable. These metalheads are outfitted with often-armored black plumage and have the distinctive color point mutation that causes a white face and darker coloration around the muzzle and orbitals. C. corpus is a generally social species, but only amongst its own, sometimes even expressing hostility to other members of the genus.

Habitat: C. corpus is native to Norway and is commonly found in the surrounding areas. However, due to irregular migration patterns and durability in warmer climates, they are now found across six continents. Wow!

Fun fact: Despite their far reach, C. corpus is still relatively low in number. This is due partially to its refusal to consume anything not deemed “trve Norwegian black metal”, which prevents it from truly proliferating.

2. Cephalometallicum familiaris

C. familiaris is by far the most commonly found metalhead variant, to the point where they are often misidentified as R. ramone, or the common punk. It has a similar coat to that of C. corpus, but like most other species, lacks the color point mutation. C. familiaris has a much broader palate than some of its counterparts, and instead of staking out their own territory, often aggregates with other species in theirs, bolstering their numbers enough to form mosh pits.

Habitat: C. familiaris is absolutely everywhere! Again, your garden-variety metalhead. Specific tastes and coat colors may vary somewhat by location due to its varied feeding habits.

Fun fact: Aside from getting along with other metalhead varieties, C. familiaris can also, under the right conditions, form social bonds with some members of the genus Normalis, or the normie family.

3. Cephalometallicum novus

This species makes a stark departure from the usual studded, dark plumage of the other members of the genus, and has evolved lighter-colored and baggier tufts. C. novus was identified for the first time in the 1990’s, and as a result, still reflects some of the ecological trends of the time. Their nonstandard appearance stems from the need for practicality as opposed to decoration—C. novus is capable of carrying more things than other members of the genus due to its unique development of ‘cargo pockets.’

Habitat: C. novus is native to the United States, and was first identified in California. However, its durability in colder climates and ability to travel for long periods without stopping for food have allowed it to inhabit many different areas.

Fun fact: C. novus is one of the rarest metalhead variants, though some argue that their numbers are underreported because of their similar appearance to certain Normie species. Fascinating!

4. Cephalometallicum cannabis

C. cannabis have coats that can vary slightly more in color than most other metalheads—sub-variants have appeared in green, purple, tie-dye, and of course, piebald. Whereas other metalhead species partake socially in mainly fermented grains, these creatures have been known to partake in more psychoactive substances. This is one of the only species (along with C. malus, which were only recently formally differentiated from C. cannabis) that do not form mosh pits readily. They can, of course, as this is a natural metalhead behavior, but their vocalizations tend to be lower in pitch and slower, which often does not meet the required conditions for pit formation.

Habitat: C. cannabis is found all over the United States, and there have been some sightings beyond as well (Amsterdam comes to mind).

Fun fact: C. cannabis is one of the most friendly and social metalheads, and can form bonds with nearly any other creature.

BONUS: Normalis poserii

Why does a normie appear on this metalhead classification list, you may ask. N. poserii, though a member of the normie family, is often referred to as the “false metalhead”, or more commonly, the “poser.” These creatures adapt a kind of camouflage that allows them to infiltrate metalhead territory without being detected. One or two are normally harmless, but if they are allowed to proliferate in metalhead habitats undetected, they could drive out the native fauna and grind the entire scene to a halt. It is currently unknown why N. poserii engages in this behavior, but the predominant theory is that they lack the same social opportunities as other normies, and seek it out in other niches, often to their own detriment.

Habitat: anywhere metalheads can be found.

Fun fact: there is nothing fun about posers.

[boogiewrites]

A Girl Walks Into A Bar 5

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)

Word Count: 5700+

Summary: Modern Declan harp AU.  Bella and Declan share a little about themselves to each other to both of their surprise. They stay in contact and end up hanging out again.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Drinking. Flirting, but she’s gonna act like she’s not. Same for him. 

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You're currently feeling the cold wind against your fingers as you wiggle them out of the truck window as Declan drives you home. You aren't too deep in thought, mainly wondering if you'd bruise and have to explain yourself to your coworkers. Declan clears his throat and breaks the silence.

"So uh...do you hit guys like that often?" he asks with his usual naturally deep tone.

"Not anymore no." your answer with a deep and mildly amused tone.

"That hit made it seem like it wasn't the first time you'd done that."

"It was nowhere near the first." you let out a soft huff of air in amusement.

"You in a fight club or somethin'?" he glances your way, his face playful. "Well I guess you couldn't tell me even if you were could you?" he grins.

"No fight clubs, no." you shake your head.

"So do you do like, MMA or something?' he offers up for conversation.

Alright, Bella, you think, slowly blinking. He's trying to get to know you. Be nice. Being honest won't' be hard for you but being graceful about it might be. "I've taken plenty of self-defense courses but I've never trained to fight or anything." You pause for a moment, considering what to share with him. He'd told you a piece about his past, you suppose it's only fair to share something with him in return. "I hung around a rough crowd when I was younger. Lots of dudes and surging testosterone. The bad sort of metalheads you see in show parking lots that are fighting and crushing cans on their heads and screaming and acting like assholes." you shrug. "So... and I don't mean this in a self-absorbed sort of way, just in a self-aware one. I know what I look like, y'know? And...it used to not be as bad I guess, guys coming onto me and everything, but with the popularity of big asses in the past few years I mean...I've literally got a target on me." you make yourself chuckle. "So I fought a lot growing up, and now...I still have that fighting instinct when dudes touch me like that or won't take no for an answer I just fuckin' go for their throats. So to speak." you say with a weak gesturing of your hands.

"I don't blame you. I was more impressed than anything. You had some good form." he nods supportively and you're relieved. You were afraid he might be judgey about it, find it unladylike. Which was a phrase you hated because of the endless times you'd heard it. Especially from guys you thought were decent, but were just assholes in disguise.

"Thanks. I can kinda snap sometimes. I don't have the best temper." your voice dips lower and he hears the mild disappointment in it. "I can black out and go ham on someone if they push up on me. I mean, it's been years since that's happened but, I've also not put myself in situations where it could happen so...there's that." you say with a shrug as you look out the window. "I guess I just have no patience for men who can't listen anymore. If you touch women without consent and won't listen when they say no in this sort of society today, there's no excuse and I figure they deserve to get their asses kicked."

"And by a woman." he chuckles.

"Especially by a woman." his reaction makes you smile a little and you gaze out the window at the passing street lamps and strobing lights, the hiss from the wet road coming through the cracked window.

"I've been in my fair share of fights too." he says as he keeps his eyes on the road.

"You look like a guy who had been. No offense meant."

"None taken." he shakes his head and smiles. "Unfortunately it leads a lot of people to think I WANT to fight. And I don't. Just...when you try to protect people from bad people, there's gonna be violence to some degree."

"It's admirable of you. At least you're doing it for a cause. Unlike me, I just have a temper."

"Nah, you're doing it to teach people a lesson."

"Didn't take you for an enabler, Declan." you laugh.

"Well I've not seen a woman knock a man out like that in...maybe ever and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a nice change of pace from the usual way those situations go down."

"If I keep up this reintroduced habit of going out you'll prob get to see it again." you smirk.

"Assuming I'm with you. If not, I'll happily take an after photo." he laughs.

But who would you be going out with if not him? Charlotte was really the only friend you had that you felt comfortable enough with and liked enough to do things with and she was incapacitated. The girls at work were nice, you liked them well enough but not in the way to go and do things with them outside of work. Plus you liked to keep work and personal separate, and all they ever wanted to do was try to pull information out of you about your private life and there wasn't anything to give. And even if there was you didn't want to share it. With your drive to your house coming to a close, you figure you're close enough to avoid painful embarrassment if he reacts poorly, but if tonight was any indication, you didn't think he would. You roll up the window, your fingers sufficiently numb.

"I can probably manage that. I'll pose like a hunter with a deer." you chuckle with a slight smile.  

"If it weren't incriminating evidence that'd be good for Instagram." he laughs with you.

He's a nice person, Bella. Accept it, you tell yourself. Why was telling someone you had a good time and would like to hang out with them again so hard? You weren't even dating or anything in the traditional sense, there was no reason to be so hesitant. Your ineptitude at showing vulnerability in any form was bubbling up and really annoying you. Couldn't even openly tell someone you wanted to hang out, it was as if you were saying you needed them around, which you knew was an illogical jump but your brain made it all the same.

"If you were down with it, if I do end up going out to something like this again...would you wanna go with me?" You propose, turning your face towards him, your eyes a little larger than you'd like them to be.

He glances over and see's your eyes wandering and he wonders if the overly cool way you asked, the lack of inflection, was a way for you to cover up your uncertainty to his answer. He wonders if he'd been giving off a vibe that too nonchalant tonight in his attempt to not scare you off or seem too eager. He hadn't meant to, he had a really great time and hoped the guy hadn't ruined his chances of getting to do it with you again.

"Yeah," he says with a lowering of his brow in an obvious tone, answering quickly. "Yeah I'd like that." he nods, turning his eyes back to the road to turn onto your street.

"Good." you say with a smile he can catch for a moment as the street lamp by your house illuminates it as he pulls to the curb. "I had a good time tonight." you say and want to curse at yourself. How cliche and overdone was that saying?

"I was hoping that guy didn't ruin the whole evening for you." he says, turning slightly to face you, you rest your hand on the door handle.

"Oh, no. They win if you let them ruin your whole night." you look down and smile with a closed mouth. "Take a lot more than that make this night a total wash." you admit, your eyes uncertain but a friendly expression.

"You want me to walk you to the door?" he asks, pointing in the direction of it.

"No that's fine, I got it." you rush out, fingers gripping on the handle. "Thanks though," you say finally pushing it open.  You stand with the door open but not all the way to not let all the heat out. You lean your head into the cabin of the truck. "I did have a good time tonight. Despite the guy..." you say with a huff of a laugh.

"I did too." he gives you a smile that's much more expressive. "We should do it again soon." he insists with a nod of his head.

"Yeah we should." you nod and finally give him a smile that shows teeth. "I'll text you this week sometime. We can....figure something out." you say with large, almost hopeful eyes.

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"I'll talk to you soon. Be careful." you say with a sheepish smile as you pull away from the truck.

"Only because you told me to." he grins, nodding a goodbye at you.

"Night Declan." you say, involuntarily tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Night, Bella." his deep voice hits you harder than you want it to.

You give him a nod and shut the door. He stays until you're inside the house, waving goodbye to him, like a gentleman. You watch him leave through the window in your living room, greeting Robbie's meowing face with a scratch to the chin.

"Yeah, I did have a good time bub," you say, looking back down once Declan's truck was out of sight. "Mama got to knock a guy out and hang out with a very nice man." you say with a smile that you didn't have to hide from anyone. It wasn't like Robbie would tell anyone. -------------- As you had before, you stare at the unsent texts you drafted up. But unlike last week you actually send them this time. You were relieved to find his way of talking through text wasn't annoying. No one letter or one-word answers where they weren't granted, no bombardment of lots of texts at once. He didn't demand any of your time and you picked up and dropped conversations easily throughout the week.

You spent some time on his Instagram, trying to figure this guy out. He seemed pretty straightforward and that seemed confusing in itself. You were so used to people pretending to be a better version of themselves on social media and he was just...Declan. You find the bar's page, which isn't super active and follow it too. You find pictures of Declan in his feed that span back years, lots of pictures with people in the woods, camping and bonfires, and keggers. It seemed he and Mike did go way back. Lots of half blurred photos of him smiling, clearly drunk. A particularly funny one with him holding Mike above his head and Mike's limbs a blur but you could see his mouth screaming. He didn't just take pictures with guys though, which was refreshing. He hugged girls just the same as he did the guys, pictures with kids with kool-aid mouths and big smiles peppered throughout.

His page is mostly him with other people, as opposed to yours which was mostly pictures like what was in your phones photos, Robbie, guitars, and a scattering of selfies. The last selfie you'd posted was months ago, up until the one you'd taken after you got home from the show. You'd shown your hand with your garnet ring on it, tagging the company you'd bought it from and bragging about how sturdy it was to stand up to an asshole's jaw after the phrase, "Got out of the house. Put on my acceptable female form for public consumption". It got some attention, which you didn't really care about it, you just thought it was clever, but you did notice that Declan liked it. And you did seem to care about that.

After you'd posted your selfie from that night, he'd posted one he'd taken while you were at the bar, it was him in the haze of lasers and dim lighting with you barely visible in the background, your back to the camera while you were getting drinks. "Big thanks to @hellsbells for actually getting me out of the bar for once." is the caption. You liked it. ------ You had plans on going by the bar and were even looking forward to it although the only person you'd admit that too was Robert, But your recording session ran long and you had to stay late. He seemed to take it well enough. By the way his face fell, Mike could tell from across the bar that he'd gotten bad news. But you couldn't see that. You told him you'd make it up to him. You got drunk at home alone that night, and to your surprise the next morning you'd ordered a handful of vintage records. Along with an automatic feeder for Robert, a pack of replica Pick of Destiny's and a Bobbie Brown biography. It was certainly not the worst drunk haul you'd ever purchased.

You'd slept in that next morning, waking up around noon and you didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. You're downing a Gatorade, eating dry toast and scowling in your oversized hoodie when your phone dings and you wince.

"Have a good night?" the message from Declan reads.

"I got home after 1 and drank Jameson on an empty stomach. I don't really know if the night was good or not." you send back.

"Ah. Well you seemed to have a good one based on your IG stories..."

"Oh God." you send before going to check.

"I'll wait lmao"

You find you talking over videos on your laptop of 80's hair metal bands. Cherry Pie, overrated but a classic. Van Halen vs. Van Hagar and singing, almost literally, the skills of Eddie Van Halen. "Well at least it's all on brand." you roll your eyes and rub your forehead, chuckling.

"That it is. I have never heard anyone with an opinion so passionate on Van Halen. lol"

"Well that's me in a nutshell. Full of useless passionate opinions. I was already aware I love VH when I'm drunk."

"It was impressive tbh. lol. And I won't hold it against you."

"I mean these explain the Bobbie Brown biography I bought."

"Oh no did you go drunk online shopping? lmao"

"I did. Which means I'm now the owner of a few new records. And a duplicate 1984. Guess I forgot I had an original print of that. Oh well."

"What was the damage?" he inquires.

"Overall not too bad. I got some original ACDC, Some live White Stripes, the Wombats, Rob AND White Zombie...we've had that discussion before lol, and Sam Cooke, aw, how sweet of me."

"Overall not a bad selection. No idea who tf the wombats are tho."

"They're on Spotify. idk if they're you're kinda thing, british indie pop rock. Speaking of, I bet my search history is going to be a mess. I've gone and fucked up my algorithm."

"Oh no how will you ever come back from that? lol"

"Shut up. lol I work hard on my algorithm. If you actually listened to music instead of wearing the shirts of bands you never listen to you'd have a heart and empathize."

"cry me a fuckin' river, Bells lmao."

You laugh out loud and a smile comes across your face for the first time that morning.  "How about you come get schooled by me in person instead of in my IG stories? I have a lot of stuff to listen to coming in soon apparently." you see an opportunity and you take it. You didn't feel up to going out tonight, you already knew that. You'd be here recovering and picking up the house that you'd neglected the past week.

"Only if Robert will be there."

You laugh out loud again. "I see. Invite a man over and all he wants to see is my cat. .... Waitaminute...I thought you were a good guy and it was all a ruse wasn't it? what an ass. "

"they don't call me a pussy hound for nothin'. it's just not the translation people expect"

"i'll get you one of those keychains like in kill bill. also no one calls you that. Mike told me you hadn't been on a date in 100 years."

"well i think a century is a bit of an overstatement."

"by what 1 year? lol"

"ya got me."

"same. big mood. etc."

"So when am I coming over to be harassed further? lol"

"i'm off early Monday since I worked for over 12 hours yesterday, can you get away from the bar that evening? I can make dinner."

"As if I weren't sold already."

"Man's gotta eat. (Me. I'm that man.)"

"Can this lady eat too?"

"of course she can, does she like ragu? I've been wanting to make some pappardelle, what about that?"

"Are you making up words? bc I seriously can't tell. lol"

"It's Italian food you uncultured swine! lol meat and tomato sauce, homemade thick pasta noodles. If I'm not too lazy I'll make garlic bread."

"holy shit are you serious?"

"I don't joke about food Declan. especially not pasta."

"I might not leave if you make all that...but if you're willing to take your chances I am more than down to eat homemade italian food. i don't remember the last time I had homemade food."

"Then it's been too long. Come over at like...7 ish? I'll need time for the sauce to cook down."

"gotta put my phone in rice bc i've drooled all over it sorry."

"Text me later so I'll remember to do the dough. I need to get my ass off this couch and clean this house. I've been a neglectful house mother this week. too busy."

"you're MAKING the bread? fuck dude, I'll remind you every hour on the hour for that!"

"Please don't. lol" you laugh and sigh, putting the phone into your hoodie pocket and shaking your head. You let it rest on the back of a couch and are quickly overtaken by a big yawn.

Mike watches this interaction go down, Declan with his elbows on the bar, thumbs moving quickly and ignoring the work to be done to set up for the early crowd. He wipes down glasses then moves onto the tabletops and floors but keeps his eyes on his business partner. He hadn't seen Declan so enthralled in a conversation since he'd discussed the range opening with his cousin Sokannon. Mike recognizes the smile on Declan's face because it's the same one that came across his face whenever he'd think about Sokannon. Although not being together in any official capacity, a few flings and years of friendship together had led him to being smitten with her for some time now. And Mike knew Declan and he knew Declan didn't get giddy, didn't get attached or talk about girls in his downtime. He knew something was clearly starting between the two of you, and he hoped it was mutual because he'd hate to see Declan lose that low key glow he'd had since your so-called not a date, night out. He didn't want him to go back to seeming aimless and dazed, he preferred this preoccupied Declan any day. ----------------------------

You spend the rest of your weekend recovering from drinking yourself under the table on Friday night. You certainly couldn't hit the hard liquor like you used to. After saying you were leaving the conversation to clean, you ended up taking a nap, but at least after that you kept your promise. On Sunday you finish up, do your laundry and prep food for the next week. You get your work in, you run errands and you end up going to sleep with everything checked off your to-do list, which was always a good feeling. You curl up with Robert to go to sleep and admit that you're excited about Declan coming over tomorrow. You ask him if he's excited and he does nothing but purr, so you take it as a good sign.

The only thing you change about your work outfit is going from jeans to leggings once you get home. You have your hair down, as usual, the waves formed from braiding it while it was wet falling around your shoulders. You forgo the leather jacket as you turn on the stove and oven, knowing it'll warm the house up enough to not need it. The men's style band t-shirt is long enough so you won't be self-conscious about any camel toe situation that may arise, and you exchange your plain socks for knee-high fuzzy ones with grippers on the bottom, foregoing the houseshoes.

You hadn't cooked for anyone but yourself in months, as Charlotte had been your buddy to do these sorts of things with. You figure you could do almost everything you could with Charlotte with Declan and that was a reassuring feeling to have someone to be able to do things with again. You didn't know where he'd stand on painting each other's nails and doing face and hair masks, and you certainly couldn't walk around naked with him around but overall the trade-off wasn't too bad. No offense to Charlotte, but Declan was more appealing to look at.

He's less nervous than last time as he drives over to your place. Wearing basically the same thing he had last time, he carries a box of your favorite Ale under his strong defined arm as he makes his way to your door, he runs his hand through his hair, a quick fluff before seeing you through the long thin windows that run up the sides of your front door.

"Hey, c'mon in. I just started cooking." you say, ushering him in.

"God, it smells amazing in here babe." he says, greeting you with a one-armed hug, a quick rub to your back you don't entirely mind. To be coming in from the cold he was awfully warm. You return the hug lightly, a slight upgrade from last time, slowly getting used to this casual physical affection he seemed to be so practiced in.

"Thanks. Your boyfriend Robbie is asleep in his bed in my room if you wanna go see him." you smirk. He follows you with a cheeky stare to your bouncing form as you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the long wooden spoon from the countertop and going back to warming up the ragu sauce you'd started yesterday.

"I think I'll let him rest." he chuckles. "I brought your favorite." he says, holding the cardboard box out with both hands.

"Aren't you a saint?" you say, half turning and a half smile thrown his way. "Just set it on the table and put a few in the fridge for us, please." you say, motioning to the fridge with your spoon. "You didn't have to do that." you say obviously, shaking your head and stirring the steaming pot in front of you.

"Eh," he says shrugging and taking his coat off. "Wanted to." he says as an excuse. "You're cooking for me and I needed to bring something besides my winning personality to the table. Literally." he lets out a rumbling deep laugh that makes a smirk appear across your face involuntarily.

"Well that's very nice of you, thank you. But I've been looking for an excuse to cook, to be honest."

"I will be happy to be that excuse." he chuckles, sitting in one of the chairs at the table, hanging his coat on the back of it.

"Hold out your enthusiasm until you've eaten." you chuckle.

The house falls quiet while you take things in and out of the fridge, work the dough one last time before throwing it into the loaf pan as the sounds of Use Your Illusion I move through the air.

"This is Guns n' Roses, right?" he asks with narrowed eyes, his head tilted to the side like a puppy hearing an unfamiliar sound.

"Yup." you say with a nod. "Don't Cry." you elaborate. "One of the first ones they wrote actually."

"I think I've heard it before." he says, totally unsure if he had, but he didn't want to look ignorant when you knew so much it was intimidating. "Hard to miss his voice isn't?"

"Oh yeah." you nod. "Bayy bayyyy" you sing with the song in matching gravel and nasal to Axl Roses as you turn your attention to the now boiling water on the stove.

"You drunk order this one too?" he grins.

You let out a soft laugh, wiping the excess flour off of your hands, unknown to you creating two white handprints on your black leggings on your butt as he silent laughs and grins at the sight. He wonders about being able to joke with you enough to dust the prints off of you, thinking it'd be funny. But he decides not to even attempt it. Things were going so well so far he didn't want his natural inclination to be physical to ruin things.

"No I've just been listening to a lot of guitar solo heavy stuff, wanted to hear some Slash." you explain. "Been doing a lot of really basic guitar stuff lately and I wanted to hear something more elaborate."

"That stuff get boring? Since you're good?" he asks, looking at the guitars around your living room.

"Not boring really...just not super stimulating." you shrug.

"You ever get bored with making drinks?" you offer, relating it to something he'd be able to understand.

"Ah. I see exactly what you mean now. I mostly just pour liquor and serve beer."

"No one appreciates a good pour around here?"

"Not enough." he says supportively.

"You'd think people would be more grateful for someone who knows how to give good head." you manage to get it out before you start laughing quietly, your shoulders shaking. (Foam on top of the beer is called 'head')

"Oh she's got jokes." he says with a big laugh and smile that you turn and shrug exaggeratedly at him.

"I do. I have jokes." you nod and laugh before tasting the sauce. You bring the spoon over to him and hold it out. "Taste?" you ask with a sweet tone and almost innocent expression that make his smile spread up to his eyes.

"What jokes you got?"

"Don't you know you aren't supposed to put someone on the spot for a joke?"

"I do now." he grins. He leans forward closer to the spoon.  "But I had to ask."

"Alright...here's a really basic one. How do you know someone's a good guitar player?" you ask with a tilted head.

He pulls back from the spoon and with wide interested eyes he lilts "How?"

"Don't worry...they'll tell you." you roll your eyes.

"Ha." he says with a snort through his nose. "I appreciate some self-deprecating humor." he nods with pouted lips of approval. He leans forward and sips from the spoon and his brows shoot up. "Holy shit dude." he says, grabbing your hand around the spoon and bringing it back his way to lick the spoon and you laugh and his lack of grace about washing the spoon make your shoulders shrug and your eyes crinkle up as you shake your head and try to pull away.

"Down boy!" you laugh, using your other hand to lightly smack away at him.

"Fuck that's good Bella." he smacks his lips.

"It's usually a hit. Except with the vegetarians." you shrug.

"Is that beef?"

"And panchetta." you say, taking another taste. Yeah, it was pretty good.

"What's that?"

"Oh?" you ask, not used to people not knowing about meats with your Italian family. "Its Italian bacon basically, pork belly."

"Bella bacon then." he grins.

"Sounds a bit crude but..." you shrug and chuckle.

"Now you KNOW I didn't mean it like that." he says with a low brow and a teasing tone.

"I do." you smile and test the pasta.

"You just like giving me a hard time then?" he grins.

"Only because you're such a good target." you say innocently with a quick shake of your head.

"Only because you're a fuckin' sucker who walks into it, Declan." he says in a high pitched voice.

"Hey." you turn and point the spoon at him. "Your words. Not mine." you grin and move to the stove to plate.  

"You ARE mean!" he says in faux offense and it makes you laugh out loud. What a good sport he was. A man that could take your sense of humor was hard to find, they either truly didn't get it or took everything way too seriously. And the worst was taking all your dirty jokes as a direct offer to fuck. But Declan seemed to have a goofy streak a mile wide running through that distractingly large body of his.

"Nah. You can take it." you shake your head. "And this is done. Wanna eat and listen in the living room?"

"Whatever you wanna do Bells." He certainly did know the right things to say.

You set up camp on the floor in front of your entertainment system. You put on the Wombats, to see if he did in fact like them, and he did not. You were thankful he was honest about it. A man that wasn't afraid to have his own opinions was nice. As the hours pass, the plates long ago went to sit in the sink and you shared a pint of gelato, which he'd also never had. It was an interesting dynamic, hanging out with someone who didn't know you too well, like Charlotte did. Charlotte knew you when you were a shitty like punk ass teen and knew your family. There's a different sort of vibe when you hang with someone new but it didn't feel uncomfortable with Declan and you couldn't help but notice how he always responded genuinely to things whether they were in agreement or not. A few Ale's down you've sat almost on top of each other, thigh to thigh and arm to arm, holding a records sleeve between the two of you as you look at the art and you tell him trivia bits about the music. He seems interested, and that's more than you could ask for from someone who didn't work in your sort of career.

He notices how much more comfortable you get with him everytime he sees you and he's more than pleased with himself for getting you to warm up to him. You'd come in so cold and now you were sharing a spoon, your arm behind his back as he held a record and you happily rambled about rock and roll. You go off on tangents and he was happy to listen, always learning something when he was with you, and that was more than he could say about any girls he'd met, let alone dated in years. You clearly weren't looking for his approval or wanting him to make your life interesting, you made your own life interesting and you were inviting him into it.

He'd get distracted watching you sit up and bend over and reach out to lift the needle and find the perfect spot on the records. You were well into your remastered High Voltage, you bobbing and grooving with it, lamenting on Highway to Hell being possibly your favorite album ever, and this one being ridiculously underrated and not popular enough with the masses. You move to speak of sex, drugs and rock and roll, and fairly unfiltered, which he appreciates. He finds out you've done more than a handful of shady things in your youth, taking the moniker of sex, drugs and rock and roll a little too seriously and following a crowd that did the same. It was comforting to know you also were trying to move on from a past you weren't particularly proud of, but didn't deny was a part of where you came from. He shared the sentiment and you could tell from his intently listening eyes that he understood.

You wondered if he'd had a similar upbringing with shit head friends but you weren't going to be nosey and ask, that was his business. Maybe after you knew him a little better, but then again maybe he'd just tell you himself. You were surprised at how fast you loosened up around him. You normally didn't share, and not that you were oversharing, speaking in generalities, overstepping the particularly dark parts. But you liked how he listened. You weren't used to men listening to you. They mostly waited their turn to talk. But something about Declan made you feel comfortable, which was more than you could say for anyone you'd met in a long, long time. He didn't seem to have such a hard time being warm with people like you did. It wasn't your natural inclination. But Declan was a good time, good company and seemed to love your food and dare you say, even your company. You tried not to think too much into it as you sat inches from his face in silence for a few seconds too many after noticing how late it was getting.

But as he pulled back, stating, no matter how hesitantly he did so, "You uh...yeah you need your sleep, Bella." he clears his throat and sits back on his hands. "I'll help you clean up and I'll get out of your hair." he says with a nod before clapping his hands together and standing, offering you his hand to help you up. You knew you didn't need his help getting up, and your knee-jerk reaction was to refuse his hand and get up to show you didn't need his offering of help. But you didn't'. You looked at his hand a few seconds and took it in your own as he yanked you up with no problem what so ever as if you weighed nothing. You watch his shoulders shift as he walks into the kitchen with the empty carton of gelato, licking the spoon one last time. You knew you didn't need Declan's help...but you certainly didn't seem to mind it.

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer