#I’m so fucking sorry people who don’t follow me for mcr content but also I’m not

[invisiblemonstrosity]

Did Mikey think he was free from watching his sibling kiss their band members? Never. Gerard kissed Ray in true stage slut fashion and they’ll do it again.

#Mikey will never be free of watching his band members plant one on Gerard #I’m so fucking sorry people who don’t follow me for mcr content but also I’m not #Gerard I’m literally shaking the bars of my enclosure I swear #they’re so #sucushdhsushqj #mcr #my chemical romance #txt #my words

[twinksintrees]

I posted 15,179 times in 2022

That's 13,328 more posts than 2021!

976 posts created (6%)

14,203 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@batboi13

@augustbehindthemall

@yamikakyuu

@pained-expression

@buysomecheese

I tagged 3,994 of my posts in 2022

#dndads - 743 posts

#dndads s2 - 428 posts

#dungeons and daddies - 359 posts

#henry oak - 195 posts

#mcr - 195 posts

#gerard way - 149 posts

#normal oak - 136 posts

#lark oak - 133 posts

#dndads glenn close - 120 posts

#prev - 93 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#pls pls do check the content warnings before hand but if you think you’ll be alright reading it i so encourage you to it’s absolutely bril

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I love you fan artists I love you fic writers I love you hyper fixation I love you fan theorists I love you character kinnies I love you shippers I love you people who comment on fics I love you people who give positive feedback to fandom creators I love you fandom communities

898 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

#4

The nonbinary urge to kill god

941 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

#3

everyone who follows me who isn’t into heartstopper I’m so sorry but also girl if you thought I was unhinged before wait until tomorrow I will be absolutely insufferable about it

1,260 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

#2

amatonormativity hurts so many people and they don’t even know it. they don’t even know amatonormativity exists and yet everyone is affected by it all of the fucking time. it’s so fucking sad.

1,448 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

do you know how much it means to me that Tao is a straight guy???? He’s a straight guy who loves a trans girl, is deeply caring and protective over all of his queer friends, he is seconds away from throwing hands (verbally) with anyone who’s mean to them, he tells his friends platonic ‘i love you’s’ and he is loud and dramatic and STUPID and emotional and that all means the world to me

2,718 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false

[mermaidcashton]

dance in the living room, love with an attitude

authors: claire (@mermaidcashton) & laura (@maluminspace)  ship/AU: michael clifford/ashton irwin, roommates AU  prompt: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”  wordcount: 10k+ warnings: swearing, implied & explicit sexual content  a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - check out the masterlist linked to see everyone elses!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘only human’ by the jonas brothers dance in the living room, love with an attitude *** The music was probably turned up a little too loud, but it helped to drown out the nerves starting to bubble away in Michael’s tummy.  ‘I hope ‘Ashton’ likes MCR’ he thought as he half-heartedly wiped down the kitchen counters with a damp cloth. He wanted the place to look mildly tidier than it usually did for his new flatmate. First impressions counted for a lot, as his mum had told him twice this week already.

Once the splashes of milk from this morning’s mishap with the cereal had been washed away along with the crumbs from last night’s dinner of peanut butter on toast, he stole a quick glance at the clock on the wall over in the living room area. It wasn’t quite midday, which meant he had a little over an hour until his new roommate was due to arrive. That should mean that he just about had enough time to vacuum the whole flat and take a shower.  Throwing the dishcloth into the little cleaning basket on the window ledge, Michael focused on  screaming the lyrics to ‘Thank you for Venom’ and tried not to focus too much on the anxiety about the rest of the day.

Agreeing to live with someone he’d never met in person probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. It’s not like Michael had been given much choice, though. His last flatmate had given him less than a week’s notice when she decided to move in with her short-term girlfriend and left Michael with a whole bunch of bills that his meagre paycheck could never stretch far enough to cover. Luckily, his best friend Luke had a work colleague who desperately needed a new place to live since his landlord had slapped him with a very short notice period to move out of his current flat. Luke had offered to give this work friend Michael’s contact details and the following morning, Michael had woken up to a text from a guy called Ashton who was very interested in Michael’s recently vacant spare room. 

After explaining the cost of rent and other bills in a few subsequent texts, Michael had received a very grateful reply from Ashton asking if it would be possible to  move in that weekend. Of course the blonde had agreed, eager to get the awkward first meeting out of the way as soon as possible.

Determined to get his most hated chore done before he could start collecting his thoughts and mentally preparing for the arrival of his new flatmate, Michael grabbed the portable hoover from the charging port on the tiny bit of the kitchen wall that was not taken up by the counters and cabinets. He was just about to press the ‘ON’ button when a knock at the door put an abrupt halt to his plans.

Michael huffed as he made his way over to the front door. The only people that had the security code for the entrance of the building were his parents and Luke, neither of which were due to visit today. That left only someone who had the wrong flat, or one other possible visitor; his neighbour, Calum. They’d hang out sometimes, whenever their days off matched up. Their shared interest in certain obscure and rare computer games and a mutual love of sushi and beer made for hours of fun without the chore of actually having to leave the building. Michael had definitely made sure to let Calum know that he was expecting his new flatmate to arrive today, though, so he was a little confused as to why his neighbour would be dropping by now. 

That feeling only intensified when a glance through the spy hole on his front door revealed that Calum was accompanied by a stranger. He opened the door cautiously, still feeling a little bewildered. 

“Hey, mate.” Calum grinned, waving a handful of unopened letters in greeting. “Just found this guy outside with a bunch of boxes. I knew you were expecting your new flatmate today, so I helped bring his stuff up.” His dark brown eyes surveyed Michael with something like confusion from beneath the rim of his seemingly ever-present black bucket hat. 

Michael could only imagine that his neighbour was mirroring his own befuddled expression because Ashton wasn’t due to arrive for another hour. He forced himself to look over at the stranger, whilst his mind worked over what was happening.

It appeared that Calum was right in assuming this was Ashton. He was indeed carrying a large cardboard box labelled ‘bedroom’ that would definitely suggest he was moving house. There were also a bunch of smaller boxes piled against the wall beside the front door which supported that assumption. 

“Do you guys need any more help?” Calum offered, “I’m free if…”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Michael cut in quickly. “We can take it from here, thanks Cal.” The last thing Michael wanted was more people to see the apartment in its current state. 

“No worries.” Calum smiled, “You know where I am if you change your mind.” He turned his attention to his little fluffy dog who had been patiently waiting for his post-walk nap. “C’mon Duke.” 

Once Calum and his little fluff ball had wandered off across the hall towards their own apartment, Michael turned his attention back to Ashton. Three things struck him about his new flatmate in very quick succession;

Ashton was incredibly hot. His curly black hair hung loosely around his handsome face, framing his chiselled cheekbones and clean shaven, angular jaw beautifully. His hazel eyes were striking from behind the horn-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his perfectly ski-slope shaped nose. 

He looked vaguely familiar. Michael knew that he’d seen Ashton’s face somewhere before but it wouldn’t quite click in his brain. Not that it would be entirely surprising if they’d met before, they did share a close friend after-all. It just seemed a little off that Luke hadn’t reminded Michael of the occasion they'd met at before suggesting they live together.

Despite his silence, Ashton looked somewhat annoyed, possibly bordering on angry. That struck Michael as odd. He had been known to piss people off fairly regularly but seeing as he’d barely even spoken to Ashton, this would be an all time record.

“So you must be Ashton…” Michael smiled, awkwardly tucking a strand of his messy blonde hair behind his ear whilst offering his free hand out for his new flatmate to shake. “I’m Michael, or you can call me Mike if you want. Most of my friends do.” Ashton didn’t accept the offer of a handshake, in fact he made no movement whatsoever. He simply glared at Michael with an increasing level of irritation. “Are you kidding me?” 

Michael knew that he was not the prettiest of people. He dressed casually most of the time and due to Ashton’s early appearance, he’d not yet had a chance to shower and make himself a little more presentable. He didn’t think that he quite deserved such a cutting greeting, though. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you yet, I was just…”

“You don’t even remember me, do you?!” Ashton interrupted, his tone dripping of resentment now. “Fucking unbelievable!”  Michael couldn’t remember ever feeling more confused in his life. Ashton hadn’t mentioned that  they’d previously met in his text messages so why would he be so angry that Michael hadn’t immediately recognised him now? 

The newcomer’s harsh tone had caught Calum’s attention, causing the neighbour to pause in sorting through his mail and stare unashamedly at the scene unfolding across the hall.

“This could only fucking happen to me…” Ashton huffed, adjusting his grip on the box in his arms. “I get turfed out of my flat because my landlord suddenly decides he wants it for his daughter and just when I think I’ve landed on my feet with a new place, my new fucking flatmate turns out to be a one night stand who doesn’t even remember me! Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down!”

Michael barely registered Calum’s audible gasp as realisation crashed around him. Suddenly the memory of the beautiful man that had swept Michael off his feet at a bar a few months back replayed in his head like a movie he’d seen once but hadn’t been able to remember the title of. He’d only known the guy as Ash and he’d assumed it was short for Ashley. Despite the fact that Ash’s hair had been a sexy shade of crimson, styled in a neat quiff and he hadn’t been wearing glasses, it was definitely the same guy that was standing in front of him right now. 

“Ash…” the word escaped Michael almost of it’s own volition. “But I thought that was short for… oh my god, this can’t be happening.” He cupped his own face in his hands as the reality of the awkward situation began to settle into the very fibre of his being.

“Wow, you can’t make this shit up.” Calum gasped, an almost delighted smile on his face. “What’re you guys gonna do?” 

Despite Calum’s annoying rubbernecking, it gave Michael the perfect excuse to look away from Ashton for a second. “Well I’m gonna throw something at you, if you don’t get lost right now, Calum.” He hissed. 

“He’s not the one coming across like a shithead right now.” Ashton scoffed, setting the box in his arms onto the floor. “Being a nosey neighbour still makes you a hell of a better person than the guy that flatters their way into your bed and gives you amazing sex but then gives you a fake number!”

“That’s right.” Calum agreed. “People that do that are the worst. At least have the balls to tell the other person you’re not looking for anything long term before you disappear the next day.”

“Calum, I swear to god…” Michael hissed. 

Ashton shook his head angrily. “He’s right, if you never wanted to see me again, you could have just said. I wouldn’t have wasted some of my best moves on you.” 

“Oh, what were the moves?” Calum smirked, prying his way further into the conversation. 

His neighbour’s blatant disregard for the seriousness of the situation was annoying to say the least. It was also the last thing Michael needed to deal with right now. “Piss off, Calum!”, he snapped. 

Duke yapped disapprovingly at Michael, his tiny eyes focused on the blonde man as his human’s smirk grew even further across his face.

“Oh, you can shut up as well!” Michael snapped at the tiny pooch. “Now you’re yelling at a dog.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a good thing you blew me off, looks like I had a lucky escape from dating an arsehole!”  Michael really couldn’t envisage the situation getting any worse. At this rate he was going to be searching for another roommate instead of enjoying a pleasant lunch with this one, like he’d hoped. 

“I didn’t give you a fake number!” Michael protested. “I swear, I’m not like that, and I really liked you! I broke my phone, the same weekend we...met.” He felt his cheeks begin to colour, trying his hardest to ignore Calum’s snort as he focused on Ashton’s disbelieving face.

“It took me two weeks to sort out a new one, I had a little pay as you go in between, I had a different number, and I-you did call, then?” Michael paused his blurted explanations to blurt out a question, instead. He had been wondering every time it was late and he was alone for 6 months whether or not he’d missed a call from the best one night stand of his life. 

“Of course I did!” Ashton threw his hands up in exasperation, startling Duke and sending him scuttling back into the still-open doorway of the opposite flat. “I thought we had a connection, we said we wanted to see each other again; that doesn’t happen that often for me! Maybe it does for you…”

“Oh, it definitely doesn’t.” Calum smirked. “The only man who comes to see Michael regularly is the Domino’s delivery guy.” 

Before Michael could blow up at him, Calum backed up properly into his flat, resting his hand on his front door. “It’s a shame, actually,” he continued, smiling encouragingly at his neighbour. “Michael is really a great guy. He always has time for me and Duke; whether it’s for beers, a listening ear, or belly rubs.” 

He throws a wink to Ashton as he shuts his front door with a click. “I’ll leave you to figure out which one is for me. Welcome to the building!” 

Michael knows he needs to gain control of the slightly-stunned silence left in Calum’s wake, fast. He needs to say something apologetic, or charming, or cool. “Do you like fish fingers?” Or that. 

Ashton blinked a few times in quick succession, and Michael wanted to throw himself down the stairs. 

“Do I like fish fingers?” Ashton repeated, pushing his long black hair back with both hands.

Michael flushed again, at least thankful for the fact that he no longer had an audience for the most embarrassing encounter of his life. “It’s just, I thought we could have lunch, and talk, and I’m not really much of a cook, but I have fish fingers, right, and everyone likes fish finger sandwiches...don’t they…” He trailed off, hoping Luke perhaps had another co-worker who needed immediate accommodation. 

Ashton fixed him with the most intense stare he’d ever received in a conversation about freezer food, and Michael tried to match his unrelenting gaze in a way that would make him look less like he wanted to cry. Ashton’s eyes really were beautiful, seeming almost magnified by his glasses. He looked thoughtful and sad now, rather than judgmental and angry, and Michael would take that.

“I do.” Ashton decided on, after what felt like an eternity. He stooped down to pick up his box again, muscles tensing, and Michael’s mind began to wander. 

He remembered Ashton’s arms looking just like that as he lifted him up for the last few feet of the journey to the redhead-at-the-time’s bed. Michael could almost feel his fingers digging into the bare skin of his thighs all over again. The memories of slow, wet, considered neck kisses being broken with teeth, and the delicious burn that started low and spread like wildfire as Ashton stretched him out like he was born to do it.

“Michael? After you?”  Michael snapped out of his daze, dragging his eyes away from Ashton’s lips where they had landed at some point in his reminiscing. He stepped back so Ashton could enter the flat and set the box down by the sofa. “Yeah, great, come in, make yourself at home, I’ll get the rest of your boxes!”   As soon as he was outside in the corridor, Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Okay, Clifford - you need to snap out of it. Relax and smooth things over so you two can live together.’ He told himself, as sternly as he could manage. ‘We need a roommate more than we need to get laid.’

‘That’s debatable.’ Another voice - which sounded more like Calum than himself - chimed in before Michael shook it off and picked up the stack of cardboard boxes cluttering up the corridor.

‘Okay, you can do this. Damage control. Just be normal. Go in and face this head on. You can do this.’ Michael murmured, running his tongue over his bitten lips as he took his first steps back to where Ashton was waiting.

He hip-checked the front door closed as he re-entered the flat, placing the boxes next to one Ashton had carried in, before straightening up to see Ashton sat on the sofa, looking both nervous and delicious. 

“I…” Michael faltered under Ashton’s almost shy gaze, then caught sight of a slice of Ashton’s firm, hairy stomach from where his t-shirt was riding up slightly.

“I just need to go to the bathroom. Then we can...talk, and eat. Okay?” Michael forced what he hoped was a casual, winning smile, and then scuttled across to the bathroom the moment Ashton made a noise of agreement and nodded his head.

Michael clicked the lock shut and put the toilet lid down as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. He began tapping away with urgency as he took a seat on the toilet, pulling up his message thread with his best friend.

SOS!!!! 🚨

Luke!!!!

Where are you

LUKE FUCK HELP ME YOU DICK

With each message he sent, Michael could feel his panic beginning to swell back up in his chest. Finally, three dots began moving across the message to indicate Luke was writing. Help was on the way.

🥺🥺🥺 What’s up

Michael felt what he knew was an unjustified rage at Luke and his fucking emojis as he furiously typed a reply.

Oh nothing, I just had sex with my new roomate!!!

Michael jumped when his phone immediately started vibrating relentlessly, sliding his finger across the screen and holding it gingerly to his ear. 

“Hello?” He whispered into the receiver. 

“WHAT!!! What do you mean you’ve slept with him?! Ashton was due there at 12, and it’s now...12 minutes past 12! That’s INSANE, even for you! I cannot believe-”

“Luke!” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, turning on the cold tap on the sink before he spoke again. “Not today, idiot! Remember, months ago, when I broke my phone? That weekend, I hooked up with that guy I met at The Alchemist? Red hair, big arms, amazing mouth-”

“Yes, I remember! What’s that got to do with it?” Luke cut in. 

“It was Ashton. I only knew him as Ash, remember? And obviously I never saw him again because I had no way to contact him after I broke my phone. But it’s him, Luke - he’s in my living room! In OUR living room! What am I gonna do?! I am freaking out!”

“Oh my God! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Mike! You’ve had your new roommates dick in your mouth before he even moved in! Classic you.”

Michael could practically hear Luke’s eyeroll. “This is not classic me! Dick! Help me, Luke!”

“What do you want me to do, I can’t unfuck him for you!” Luke shot back. Michael let out an involuntary whimper and slumped further down on the toilet. He was so screwed.  

***

Michael emerged from the bathroom, Luke’s advice ringing in his ears as he approached Ashton on the sofa.  ‘He’s a really nice guy, Mike; just talk to him. Explain what happened after you hooked up, and say you hope you can put it behind you and be friends. I think he’ll be cool, honestly. Just try not to trip and land on his dick and you should be golden.’ 

He took one last deep breath as he sat down on the black leather beside his one-time lover.

“So, Ashton...I...listen, I’m sorry that I broke my phone and made you think I’d ghosted you. I’m just an idiot that dropped his phone outside Sainsbury’s. And I’m really sorry I didn’t recognise you straight away, I was just expecting someone I hadn’t, and your hair, and glasses, and-” Michael could feel himself starting to babble but he couldn’t stop himself; he was so desperate for Ashton to like him. He was trying not to think about why it was this important to him. 

Ashton held his hand up to stop him with a small smile. “Michael, it’s okay.”  

Michael stopped short in his unravelling with a look of surprise. “It is?”

Ashton’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. I was just a bit blindsided, and I was hurt at the time back then, you know? But you explained, you apologised, and you seem like a nice guy. Luke sure can’t talk you up enough, and I trust him. I have no reason not to believe this is gonna be all good.” 

Michael blinked, unsure if this was too good to be true. “Yeah? So...we’re good? You’re gonna...stay?”

Ashton relaxed back into his seat, toeing his shoes off and under the coffee table. “If that’s okay with you, yeah. We’re both grown ups; we can keep it platonic and put the past behind us, right? Friends?”

Michael nodded, trying to hide the gulp in his throat. “Yeah, of course. Right. Great. Friends.” He could definitely do this.

***

He could definitely not do this. 

It’d been a long one month, two weeks and three days of trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to be anything more than Ashton’s friend and roommate. 

Some days, Michael thought it was possible to put those lingering feelings away and focus on their blossoming platonic relationship. After all, Ashton was everything most people could ever want in a flatmate. He was tidy, considerate, fairly quiet and respectful of personal boundaries. The slightly older man was also great company. Michael has had many pleasant conversations with him over breakfast and in the evenings before they went to bed. 

As lovely as all of that was, Michael had started questioning if it was worth the growing ache in chest for more. Each new thing he learnt about Ashton made him more sure that he was probably the closest thing to the perfect man that Michael would ever know. It was a cruel twist of fate that had meant his one opportunity to have Ashton for himself had slipped through his fingers, quite literally. He cursed himself on a daily basis for that one clumsy moment when he’d fumbled pulling his old phone from his too-tight jeans outside the supermarket and had been forced to watch his only chance with Ashton sink into a muddy puddle. 

Whatever higher powers existed had been even less kind to have that strong, gorgeous, well-hung man turn up on Michael’s doorstep months later, as his only hope of being able to keep the flat he’d grown to love. 

Every day since then, seemed to have presented a new challenge or torture. First it was the tight t-shirts and vests Ashton wore more often than not. They accentuated every muscle of the raven-haired man’s torso and displayed his strong biceps in all their glory. 

Then came the sleepy morning routine they’d subconsciously fallen into. Ashton would emerge from his room in nothing but his loose grey sweats and crooked glasses, his hair ruffled and his eyes heavily lidded, before joining Michael for a hasty breakfast which usually consisted of cereal or toast and mug of strong coffee. It was during these sluggish mornings when they’d started to bond over their mutual love of crime dramas and fantasy movies, among other things. That had naturally led to evening-long Criminal Minds marathons whole weekends debating whether the Lord of the Rings movies or the Harry Potter movies were the better adaptations of their original books. Those playful arguments had spilled over into text messages now, so Michael couldn’t even escape his torturous living situation when he went to work. 

Despite all of that hardship, the most latest and arguably the toughest challenge Michael found himself facing, was Ashton’s morning yoga. At first, the older man had kept that part of his morning routine confined to his bedroom. For some reason or another, over the last week or so, Ashton had decided that the living area was a more suitable location for this activity. 

If Michael thought that sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton was hot, then sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton doing the ‘downward dog’ was positively off the fucking scale. The way his large hands pressed into the yoga mat and the way his strong arms and legs tensed as he straightened his back and pushed his arse up into the air lingered in Michael’s mind all day. These images often flickered through his mind at night too, when he was alone in his bed with nothing but his hand for company. 

Deciding that a little get together with some friends would help dispel some of the tension, Michael floats the idea of asking Calum and Luke over for a ‘lads night’. Ashton had agreed easily, being a generally social person, he’d seemed enthusiastic about the possibility of hosting a mini party. 

A group message is created and it doesn’t take long to settle on the following Friday night for beer, snacks and a FIFA tournament. 

Ashton seemed to have been looking forward to it, often mentioning how excited he was to get to know Calum better and asking Michael to help him decide between certain snacks to purchase for the occasion. 

All in all, Michael was proud of himself for the idea, focusing on hosting a couple of friends had certainly given both him and Ashton something new to focus on. 

It was only when Friday arrived that Michael started to doubt his plan. Watching Ashton arrange plates of snacks on the kitchen counter, with the cutest concentration face he’d ever seen, started to make Michael wish they were spending the evening alone instead. He quickly pushes the thought of his head, berating himself for thinking something so stupid. It’s not like anything could happen between them even if they were alone, they were roommates now, that’s where their relationship ends. 

“So....” Ashton broke the silence enveloping the flat as he finished pouring a bag of cheesy Doritos into a bowl. “Did you finally solve the mystery of who was stealing people’s shit from your fridge at work?” 

Michael was caught off guard by the question. He’d been watching Ashton so intently that he momentarily forgot about everything else. It took him a moment to remember that he’d been keeping Ashton up to date with the ongoing lunch burglar drama at the DIY store he worked at. “Oh, umm no, not yet! But Brenda finally told Linda to stick her fake friendship where the sun doesn’t shine.” 

A genuinely delighted smile burst into Ashton’s face as he headed into the living room area. “Good for her! Linda sounds like a bitch…” 

It really meant a lot to Michael that Ashton took such an interest in his work life. The fact that he cared so much about people he didn’t know, but was aware they meant a lot to Michael, was also heartwarming. 

Before Michael could go into more detail about the break time drama, a knock at the front door interrupted him. “Oh yay! Our first guest!” Ashton beamed, jogging off towards the front door to greet Calum.

***

As soon as the beer and wine had started flowing, Michael’s ever-present pining for Ashton dulled to an almost non existent haze at the edges of his mind. Sure, his knees felt weak every time Ashton flashes him that dopey smile of his and he might have blushed whenever their knees touched as they competed against each other in a thrilling game of virtual soccer. 

That was all better than his usual all-consuming lust, so Michael was somewhat proud of himself. He even managed to surprise the urge to let Ashton win their game, and was almost smug when his player sent the football flying past Ashton’s keeper to secure a 2-1 win. 

“Motherfucker!” Ashton grumbled, throwing his control pad into the sofa as he fixed Michael with look that was almost definitely the hottest gaze he’d ever been caught under. “I’m gonna get you for that, Clifford.” It sounded like a promise that held more weight than the simple challenge to a rematch it was probably meant to be. 

Michael had to fight back a whimper, staring into Ashton’s beautiful hazel eyes this closely was too much. The intensity of it all rendered him momentarily speechless and he was all-too glad when Ashton got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. 

“I need to drown my sorrows.” The black-haired man laughed, breaking the tension that had descended on them before heading off to the kitchen. Ignoring the knowing looks from his two friends, Michael picked up Ashton’s discarded controller and tossed it to Luke. “Your turn to face me, Hemmings. Let’s see if I can beat my all time record of beating you 6-1” 

“Fuck off! You have never beat me that badly.” Luke huffed, picking up the control pad that had just landed in his lap. “I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass in front of your new boy-“

“Shit, we’re out of beers already!” Ashton’s interruption came at exactly the right moment in Michael’s opinion. He really hadn’t wanted Luke to finish that sentence and now he wouldn’t get the chance. 

“I’ll go to the shop for some more, does anyone have specific requests?” The eldest friend asked as he traipsed back into the living room area. 

“Oh you don’t have to go!” Michael shrugged, “you should stay here, we’ll send Luke instead, he sucks at this game anyway.” 

Luke scoffed, waving his hand defensively. “You’re not getting out of playing me that easily!” 

Ashton laughed, his eyes sparkling as he checked that his wallet was still in his jeans pocket. “It’s fine. I’m already out of the competition and I wouldn’t want to give anyone else an unfair advantage.” 

Maybe it was just the effects of the beers he’d already drank, but Michael could have sworn that Ashton’s gaze lingered on him a little longer than it probably should have. “You’re too nice.” The blonde beamed fondly, “I’ll transfer you my half of the money in the morning, unless you wanna take a tenner from my room?” 

“Oh is that an open invitation?” Calum asked, a lazy smile curling the corners of his lips. “You owe me at least that from when we bet on whether or not Luke could drink that tzatziki sauce last time.” 

“Fuck off, Calum! I don’t owe you a penny, I won that bet, Luke’s a fucking wuss…” 

“Hey! I am not!” Luke interrupted incredulously. 

“Okay, I need to hear that whole story when I get back!” Ashton giggled. “I’ll just grab a case of whatever beer is the cheapest though, yeah.” 

There was a general murder of agreement before Ashton headed out of the front door. Michael fond him watching until Ashton had disappeared into the hallway, swinging the front door closed behind him. “He’s so nice…” The blonde sighed dreamily, still gazing at the closed front door. “Don’t you think he’s just the best?” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a ‘is he for real’ glance before silently agreeing that this was the perfect opportunity to tease Michael about his blatant love for Ashton. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty special.” Calum agreed, smirking slyly. “You really can’t sing his praises highly enough, can you?” 

Shaking his head, Michael finally returned his attention to the TV. “You really can’t, he’s just so kind and sweet.” 

Calum nodded in agreement. “Not bad to look at either!” 

“Right?!” Michael giggled, oblivious to the fact that his tipsiness was making his lips too loose.  

“Hey Mike.” Luke cut in, reaching over to nudge his friend’s shoulder. “How’s being in love with your flatmate working out for you?” His conversational tone was entirely at odds with mischief in his eyes. It confused Michael but the youngest friend’s words were altogether too bold, a blatant overstep if ever there was one. 

Despite his inner rage at being called out like this, Michael fumbled, unable to cobble together an appropriate response. “Ugh, I don’t even… You’re so far-“ 

“There’s no point denying it anymore.” Calum chuckled, “I can feel the sexual tension between you two from across the hall!” 

“God, I bet it’s like watching a car crash, isn’t it?” Luke asked, picking up the bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table. “It’s horrific but you can’t tear your eyes away? Am I right?” 

Calum nodded. “It’s like watching a bad fucking soap opera.” 

Michael felt offended and embarrassed but still no words seemed to form coherently in his mouth. 

“At least it’s a bit less tragic now we can be sure it’s not entirely one sided!” Luke stage whispered with a calculating look on his face as he met Calum’s gaze.

“Yeah, it’s mildly less irritating!” Calum laughed. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” Michael sputtered. “Ash and I agreed that our one night stand is ancient history, we’re not-“ 

“Oh puh-lease!” Calum scoffed. “If you two haven’t fucked again by the end of this month I’ll eat my bucket hat.”

***

Ashton had returned with a case of twenty four bottles of beer and as a result, lad’s night had ended up running into the early hours of Saturday morning. 

Having drank his way through more than his fair share of that case, Michael didn’t end up rising from his pit until noon had long since been and gone. 

“Ah you are still alive!” Ashton chuckled, tearing his attention away from the TV to look at his flatmate. 

This was definitely not fucking fair. Michael didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that he looked exactly as he felt - rough as all hell. Ashton on the other hand, still looked as dreamy as ever. His black curls, although slightly ruffled and fluffy, were still on the stylish side of messy and he’d somehow found the motivation to get dressed, too, something Michael wasn’t even contemplating.

 “I’m glad you’re up now, though, I wondered if you had anything planned for dinner?” Ashton asked, peering at Michael from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. 

The thought of food made Michael’s stomach lurch unpleasantly and he had to fight to hold back a wretch. 

Ashton gives a sympathetic giggle before pausing his show and rising to his feet. “I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, buddy. I have a plan but first…” he jogged over to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. “Why don't you go and take a shower while I make you a tea? You’ll feel better after that and then we will talk dinner!” 

As Michael plods over to the bathroom, he shoots one last look over at Ashton, busily preparing mugs on the countertop and tries his absolute hardest to remember a time that he wasn’t in love with his flatmate.

***

As always, Ashton was proven to be 100% correct. 

Michael felt a million times better once he was showered and snuggled on the sofa with a mug of steaming tea. 

“You look a little more alive now.” Ashton smirked, sparing Michael a sideways glance before returning his attention to ‘Law and Order’. “Do you think you can handle talking about dinner yet?” 

The ache in Michael’s stomach felt a lot more like hunger than it had done when he first woke up and the thought of food didn’t make him feel like throwing up anymore so he nodded. “What’re your plans, chef?” 

Ashton’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he shrugged. “I couldn’t bear to see you try to cobble together another freezer meal so I thought you might like me to teach you a simple pasta dish?” He suggested, his tone a little shy like he was worried what Michael’s reaction would be. “I’ll do most of the work, but I thought if you helped out, you’ll learn how to make something other than Super Noodles.” 

Michael couldn’t even be mad at the subtle dig at his cooking skills. He was terrible in the kitchen and it was just a little embarrassing that Ashton had noticed just how dyer his cooking skills were. “When you say simple, do you mean like a recipe and technique you can write on the back of a postage stamp because that’s about the level of my skill.” 

Rolling his eyes, Ashton casually threw his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Don't be so hard in yourself, buddy! I once taught Luke how to make scrambled eggs on the stove so he didn’t have to be a savage and use the microwave anymore, so there’s definitely hole for you, I promise.” 

Michael tried to focus on the hat Ashton was saying but all that his slow, hungover brain could process was that he was pressed against his stupidly gorgeous flat mate’s side. The heady smell of Ashton’s minty body wash and the soft scent of his fabric conditioner felt intoxicating and Michael could do nothing besides allow his head to drop into Ashton’s shoulder. 

To the blonde’s surprise, Ashton shuffle away or call him out on it. He simply rests his own head on Michael’s and laughs. “We’ll make a chef of you yet, Clifford.” He promised.

***

They spent a good three hours, watching reruns of C.S.I and making plans to start a Marvel movie marathon after dinner. They sat close to each other the whole time and Michael noticed Ashton watching him from the corner of his eye on at least three separate occasions. 

By the time Ashton suggested they start making dinner, Michael had gone over his conversation with Calum and Luke the previous night, about sixty times. His two best friends had convinced him that Ashton wanted Michael just as much as Michael wanted Ashton. 

“The way he looks at you, dude.” Calum laughed. “He’s practically imagining you naked at any given moment. It’s getting uncomfortable.” 

“Don’t be stupid!” Michael reprimanded. “He doesn’t think of me like that anymore. We had a one night thing months ago. That’s it. Nothing else will ever happen between us again, we’re just flatmates.” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a sceptical glance before bursting into laughter. 

“Yeah right!” Luke huffed sarcastically. “Do you know how many times I hear your name come out of his mouth at work these days?” 

Michael’s cheeks reddened. He had no idea that Ashton talked about him at work. It felt kind of surreal to imagine his roommate relaying snippets of their home life to Luke. 

“Let me guess!” Calum interrupted. “About a thousand…” 

Nodding, Luke drained the last of his beer. “Yeah and that’s just before lunch!”

“Honestly, if they don’t bang soon I’m gonna knock their heads together.” Calum sighed. “Did you know Michael comes over to my place most mornings so he doesn’t have to watch Ashton do topless yoga?” He asked Luke disbelievingly. “I want my lie-in’s back!” 

At the time, Michael hadn’t believed his friends. He didn’t think that there was even a remote possibility that Ashton still carried a torch for him. But in the clear light of day, Michael couldn’t deny that all the signs were there… perhaps there could be more between them after all. 

He followed Ashton into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his grey oversized sweater, trying to clear his mind enough to be able to process learning a new skill. 

“Okay, this is like the simplest recipe I know but it’s delicious and tastes so much better than the freezer junk you usually make for yourself.” Ashton rambles as he grabs a saucepan and a frying pan from the shelf near the cooker.  

“Hey, freezer junk has been my lifeline on many occasions, I’d probably be dead without it.” Michael scoffed, only half joking. 

Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, handing Michael the saucepan. “Fill this with water for me and then put it on the back hob, while it’s boiling I’ll teach you how to make the sauce.” 

As Michael carried out his instructions, he couldn’t help but admire the concentration on Ashton’s face when he began rifling through the fridge and cupboard, pulling out various ingredients. 

Once the pan of water was safely on the job Ashton had indicated, Michael returned his full attention to the slightly older man.

“Right, the first thing we do for the sauce is put 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil into this cold pan.” Ashton explained, pushing his glasses up his nose a little, reminding Michael of a hot English teacher or something… fuck, it was already difficult enough for Michael to concentrate without random fantasies about Ashton fucking him over a desk running through his mind. “Usually I’d never add oil to a cold pan, but for this particular recipe, it works because if the pan was already hot, the first ingredients would burn before the rest was in there.” 

There was something about the way Ashton talked with such passion and confidence that made Michael wish he was confident enough to just drag him to the bedroom, his need for more from Ashton becoming unbearable. He forced himself to nod, pretending like he understood when really, Ashton could be telling him absolutely anything right now, and Michael would not know the difference because all he can think about is the way Ashton had groaned at the feeling of Michael’s nails running down his back and how he’d growled Michael’s name as he neared his climax. 

“Can you pass me the basil?” Ashton asked, pulling Michael out of his memory. 

The blonde surveyed the ingredients on the countertop. Luckily he recognised most of them, so he picked up the basil by process of elimination and handed it to Ashton like a dutiful sous chef. 

Ashton looked mildly impressed as he took the bag of basil and took out handful. “We want about ten or so decent sized leaves and we tear them in half before adding them to the oil, okay?” He waited for Michael’s nod of understanding before tearing the leaves in his hand and dropping them into the pan. 

“Then we need to chop 6-8 cloves of garlic directly into the pan.” Michael looked back at the little stack of ingredients and frowned, noticing an instant problem. “We only have one clove of garlic…” he pointed out, biting his bottom lip worriedly. 

Ashton burst out laughing as he picked the garlic up from the counter. “This is a whole bulb, babe…” he explained, apparently not even noticing his use of the supposedly accidental pet name. 

It was difficult for Michael to feel too offended by Ashton’s laughter when he’d just called him babe, though, so he let it go, focusing on the term of endearment, no matter how accidental it might have been, rather than the humour at his dumb mistake. 

“It’s the smaller, wedge shaped pieces that are cloves, please don’t mix that up if you make this without my help.” Ashton chuckled, breaking six cloves from the bulb and picking up a tiny knife he’d laid out next to the oven. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Michael pouted. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” 

Ashton gave him a fond smile. “You’re not alone in that, I promise…” 

It was hard not to feel comforted by Ashton’s lopsided smile, so most of his embarrassment slipped away fairly quickly. 

“I just chop off the little hard parts at the bottom of each clove and peel the skin off before chopping it directly into the pan. Don’t chop it on a board or you’ll lose some of the flavour.” Ashton explained carefully. 

Michael watched with interest as Ashton demonstrated his technique with the first two cloves. He handed the third to Michael along with the knife and gestures for him to add it to the pan. 

It took him probably three times longer to chop that one clove into the pan, than it took Ashton to do the first two, but he was encouraging and patient. The older man praised Michael for completing the tiny task, seeming genuinely impressed.

Once all six cloves of garlic had been added to the pan, Ashton turned on the hob into a medium heat. “Okay, so we stir this together for about five minutes. Can you do that while I open the tin of tomatoes?” 

Michael nodded, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and storing the simmering ingredients together. It already kinda smelt like his favourite Italian restaurant and his tummy grumbled impatiently. 

“One thing I should specify is, you need to use tins of whole tomatoes, not chopped.” Ashton explained as he poured the first tin of tomatoes into the sizzling pan. “Can you pour in the second one?” 

Michael did as he was told and watched as Ashton squished the whole tomatoes down and stored them into the red eat of the ingredients. 

“Mmm it smells so good.” Michael sighed, breathing in the delicious smells. 

Ashton looked proud of himself as he offered a smile. “Can you take over the stirring while I add the salt?” 

Michael took the spoon from Ashton, ensuring that their fingers brushed. 

There was a moment of eye contact and a silent shifting of tension between the two of them. If ever there was a time to bite the bullet and kiss Ashton, now would be it. His nerves failed him though and he dropped his gaze to the simmering pan. 

Instead of moving around Michael to pick up the salt as he’d done for the tomatoes, Ashton simply reached past the blonde, pushing him against the counter momentarily before he pulled back to add the salt to the pan. 

If Michael had been fully alert, he’d have recognised that for the flirtatious move it was meant to be, as it was, he put it down to a simple lack of judgement on Ashton’s part and continued to concentrate on stirring the sauce.

***

The tomato pasta tasted as good as it had smelt. It turned out to be exactly what Michael’s hungover body had needed. 

He and Ashton had eaten it at their little table in the kitchen. Conversation had flowed freely as always, skirting around flirtatious at times but never quite enough for Michael to pluck up the courage to take things further. 

“The only thing that would have made that better would have been a nice glass of white wine, but I thought you were still a bit too delicate for that.” Ashton giggled as he picked up the empty plates from the table and carried them over to the kitchen sink. 

“Hey, you drank as much as I did!” Michael pouted, picking up the empty glasses and following Ashton to the sink. “How’re you not hungover.” 

Ashton chuckled as he ran the water into the washing up bowl. “You’re just a lightweight, Mikey.” 

It wasn’t the first time Michael had been called that so it didn’t take him by surprise. He laughed it off as he grabbed a tea cloth ready to dry the dishes that Ashton washed. “One day you’ll stop teasing me, Irwin.” 

Ashton shook his head. “Don’t count on it, babe… you’re too easy to make fun of, that’s not my fault.” 

There it was again, that little slip, a fond nickname that roommates probably shouldn’t have for one another. 

Quickly pulling himself together, Michael nudged his flatmate in the arm, just hard enough to pull a surprised “oof” from him. 

“Careful now.” Ashton warned jokingly. “You don’t want to start a scuffle you can’t finish, Clifford.” 

Michael threw caution to the wind and nudged Ashton again, deliberately keeping his gaze on the plate he was drying. 

“That’s it!” Ashton huffed, scooping up a handful of bubbles and swiping them across Michael’s face. 

The blonde spluttered and shook his damp fringe out of his face before fixing Ashton with a glare. A few acts of retaliation flashed through his mind. He could have whipped Ashton with the tea cloth or splashed him with dishwater but none of that happened. 

There was something about the way Ashton’s eyes were sparkling, almost like he was daring Michael to do the thing he’d been too scared to do this whole time. He refused to let another opportunity pass like before when they were making the pasta sauce. Michael tried not to overthink as he stepped forward and cupped Ashton’s face with one hand before leaning in and kissing him. 

The raven-haired man’s lips felt every bit as soft as they had done on that night seven months ago. Ashton didn’t kiss back with the same hunger and desperation that he had done back then, though. 

Michael stepped back, feeling his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed blush. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Ash…” 

Ashton bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at Michael intently. “No…” He said, finally breaking his silence. “You just shouldn’t have waited so long.” 

The older man’s words had barely penetrated Michael’s brain before he was being  pressed against the counter behind him. Ashton’s lips were on his again but this time they were working just like they had been that night at Ashton’s old place. 

The intense kiss pulled a whine from Michael and he automatically wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. 

It started as a fairly simple kiss but it quickly began to build momentum. It was the crack in the dam holding back all of their emotions for all this time. 

“Ashton…” Michael gasped as they pulled apart for air. “I know we said we should just be friends but…” 

“Fuck being just friends.” Ashton mumbled as he worked kisses down Michael's neck. “I can’t pretend anymore.” 

Those words were all Michael needed to hear in order to relax into this. “I can’t tell you how bad I’ve wanted this.” He whispered. 

Ashton slipped one of his thighs between Michael’s as he nipped at the blonde’s neck. “I think I have some idea.” He groaned. “I never stopped thinking of the way you moaned my name that night, Michael.” The older man confessed, pulling back just enough to look Michael in the eye. “Wanted it again since the moment I walked in here.” 

The way Ashton was looking at him like he wanted to devour every inch of Michael, had the blonde melting. “Me too.” He crashed his lips against Ashton’s in another desperate kiss as he subconsciously rutted against the older man’s thigh. After the months Michael had spent feeling kind of lonely and touch-starved, the tiny amount of friction was enough to have him whimpering against Ashton’s lips. 

“Uh, you sound and taste even better than I remember.” Ashton muttered, pressing his thigh harder against Michael’s crotch to pull another little gasp from him. 

“Ashton! Fuck, please, I…” Michael’s head tipped back as he lost his fight to regain any sort of control over his own body. He was in Ashton’s control now, and Ashton knew it.  

“Come on…” Ashton coaxed, stepping back from Michael as he took both of his hands in his to pull him away from the kitchen counter. Michael whined high in his throat as he easily followed where Ashton led. 

Michael had hardly been into Ashton’s bedroom since he had helped him move some furniture the day he moved in; it had almost felt too intimate to go into Ashton’s personal space given the history between them. Seeing it now, cozy and dark with slithers of light coming through the window from the lamp posts outside, gave Michael a chill; it felt like Ashton was sharing a secret with him.

He followed Ashton’s lead dutifully all the way to the bed, accepting the deep kiss Ashton offered him as a reward, before the older man peeled his oversized sweater from his torso, breaking away to pull it over Michael’s head. Michael wanted more contact, but was disappointed when Ashton gently but decisively laid him down among the crisp sheets, instead. 

Ashton pulled his own t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion and flicked the lamp on his bedside table on, bathing the bed in a warm glow that made Michael feel like he was in a dream. 

Michael gazed in wonder at Ashton as he climbed into bed beside him, letting his eyes travel all over his arms and chest, taking in the extra tone and definition in his body since the last time he’d been able to stare at him like this; clearly, the yoga was doing more than just allowing Ashton to ‘find his centre’. 

He didn’t think he was anything special to look at, but he could see Ashton mirroring his own actions, eyes full of lust searching all over the parts of Michael’s body he could see, and even his gaze lingering on a part he couldn’t.

 “Ash,” Michael breathed out, surprising himself with how far gone he sounded already. “Take ‘em off, I wanna…” He trailed off as Ashton’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, holding eye contact for only a moment before he nodded almost imperceptibly, shuffling down the bed and taking hold of the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. He returned his gaze to the pale man before him, biting his own lip as he allowed his fingertips to graze the skin of Michael’s hips. “These too?” Ashton questioned in a low voice as he brushed the fabric of Michael’s underwear.    

“Oh God, yeah”, Michael answered, squirming slightly from the infuriatingly gentle feel of Ashton’s touch. Ashton didn’t need to be told twice. Michael shivered with the feeling of being suddenly completely exposed as his sweatpants and underwear hit the carpet. Michael looked up at Ashton through his lashes, braced up on his knees in his black, ripped jeans. “You’d better be planning on losing those in the next second, Irwin.”

Ashton smirked as he undid his jeans. “And I mean your underwear, too!” Michael amended hastily, hungry to see if his memory of Ashton’s body was accurate. 

The dark-haired man’s smirk grew wider at Michael’s clarification, pulling his zip down and allowing his jeans to fall open, exposing only bare skin beneath. “Underwear?” 

Michael’s jaw dropped a little, prompting a deliciously filthy laugh from his roommate. “For the record, roomie - I don’t wear underwear.” Ashton winked as he yanked his jeans down as far as he could in his current position, before wriggling around to pull them off completely. Michael was pleased to see that, if anything, his memory had been selling Ashton short. Blame it on the alcohol. 

Michael didn’t know how to decide on what to do first; on one hand, he wanted to kiss Ashton non-stop for the rest of eternity, but on the other hand, if he didn’t get filled up in the next 10 minutes, he was definitely going to throw a tantrum. Luckily, he realised, it probably wasn’t up to him. All of his experience with Ashton so far told him that the older man would definitely be taking the lead, and this was definitely not a problem for Michael. Indeed, it had worked out very well for him last time, when his staff night out started at the bar and ended with Ashton eating him out like his life depended on it. 

“What are you thinking?” Ashton’s sultry voice broke through his thoughts, apparently wanting a coherent answer despite the fact that he had just begun to run his fingers up and down Michael’s sensitive, pale inner thighs. Michael let out a shuddery breath as he tried to use his words to tell Ashton he wanted anything and everything possible between them, right there and then. Perhaps the way his cock twitched when Ashton let one his nails run over a faded stretch mark right at the base of one of his thighs would speak for itself. 

“Maybe we should get right to, huh, gorgeous?” Ashton teased, withdrawing his touches to lean towards his bedside table. He pulled open the top drawer, fumbling only for a moment until he found what he was looking for. The lube and condom were dropped carelessly onto the mattress as he shut the drawer again, returning his attention to the man almost-beneath him immediately. “We’ve got plenty of time for all the other goods stuff; right now, I need to fuck you, and I know you need me to fuck you...don’t you?”

Michael wondered at what point in his life he had begun to communicate exclusively in whines, but Ashton seemed to be into it, so it didn’t matter. Michael watched impatiently as Ashton popped the top on the half-empty bottle of lube, wasting no time in squirting a generous amount onto two fingers on his right hand and pulling Michael’s leg fully around his hip with his left.

Michael’s heart jumped as much as his cock when Ashton breathed gently on the lube coating his fingers in an attempt to warm it slightly before he brought them straight down to Michael’s bare hole, rubbing over it in a firm circle.

Michael was glad he didn’t have the problem of not wanting his roommate to hear him getting fucked, anymore, as he let out his loudest, neediest whine yet. Ashton proved he had meant what he said about not taking their time with their second tryst, sinking his index finger inside Michael in one fluid motion. Before Michael had got to 10, Ashton was opening him up at a steady, delicious pace and was driving Michael crazy in record time. 

Michael wouldn’t claim to be a pornstar or anything, but he didn’t normally have a problem with stamina. If Ashton kept it up like this, though, Michael was in danger of coming before Ashton’s thick cock got any closer to him, and that was unacceptable.

“Ash, please, I can’t...I want, ne-your cock, please!” Michael cried out as Ashton probed his spot one last time before immediately acquiescing to Michael’s begging. Michael wriggled at the loss of Ashton’s fingers, but took comfort in the fact that Ashton was already tearing the condom packet open. 

Michael watched in awe-tinged anticipation as Ashton gave himself a couple of loose tugs once he had the condom on, before closing in on his lover once more, making sure Michael was laid comfortably on the pillows as he positioned himself over him. Michael clung to Ashton’s shoulders as he lined himself up, just resting the tip on Michael’s slick hole for a moment.

Ashton’s hazel eyes bore down into Michael’s green ones with a soft fire as he raised one hand to brush Michael’s fringe out of his flushed face. Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as Ashton pushed in - slowly, but all the way.. He felt like he was sinking and floating simultaneously, and wrapped his arms around Ashton’s neck to anchor himself here, with him, in this moment. 

Ashton pressed his face deep into Michael’s neck, kissing and sucking his way up towards Michael’s ear. “You good?” He murmured, shifting his hips a miniscule amount. “Yeah,” Michael breathed, “S’good, please…”.

With a final nip to Michael’s neck, Ashton pulled back slightly and began to move his hips properly, his cock sliding halfway out each time as he began to build a steady rhythm for them. Michael felt that perhaps in their sexual relationship so far, he was earning himself the reputation of a bit of a Pillow Princess, and so he began to move his own hips to meet Ashton’s building thrusts. Ashton groaned, long and loud, at the heightened sensations Michael’s movements brought, and they began to work together towards their goal. 

Suddenly, Ashton’s mouth was crowding his, his tongue sliding into his mouth in a glorious kiss that Michael never wanted to end. He couldn’t tell if it had been 10 minutes or 10 hours when he felt that familiar feeling begin to bubble in the lower stomach. Ashton had begun to up the pace of his thrusts, his hips occasionally stuttering as groans rumbled low in his throat, so Michael knew they were on the same page. 

“Ash,” He murmured in the millisecond between kisses. “Touch me, please, I’m getting so-” Michael broke off into a moan as Ashton was already wrapping a firm hand around his neglected cock, stroking it with determination and flicking his thumb over Michael’s dripping head. “You close, baby?” He murmured, eyes drifting over Michael’s face and the arousal present there. Michael was starting to writhe slightly and his head was flopping to the side on the pillow, but Ashton wanted his attention. With his free hand, he took Michael’s chin and turned his head to meet Ashton’s stare. The moment Michael was forced to meet his strong, heated gaze, his hazel eyes boring down on him with such intensity, Michael felt the kick of heat and it was all over. He cried out Ashton’s name and let out a series of curses and moans as he came, hard and hot over Ashton’s hand and their sweaty stomachs in equal measure.

Michael hadn’t finished himself before he felt Ashton taken by surprise, as well; his hips shooting forward to fill him to the hilt for the last time as he spilt into the condom, releasing Michael’s chin to brace himself through his orgasm on the pillows. “Michael, fuck!”

Michael regained enough control to watch Ashton’s face through hooded eyes as he came, moaning and unrestrained as he finished. He thought he looked heavenly. 

As they both fought to catch their breath, Ashton pulled out gingerly, releasing Michael from his grip as he moved away to remove and dispose of the condom. Michael wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable to recover from what he hoped would be the first of many. Ashton came back from the bin in the corner and flopped back down, alongside Michael now, lifting his arm to allow Michael to snuggle in under it when he wrapped it around him. “So…” He said, sounding casual as you like. “About the whole platonic, friendly, roommate thing…”

masterlist for the 5sos ficwriters collab  • my masterlist

#5sos writing collab #my writing #mermaidcashton #maluminspace #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #mashton #mashton fic #mashton smut #mashton fluff #Michael 5sos #ashton 5sos #Michael 5sos fic #ashton 5sos fic #ashton irwin #Michael clifford #Michael Clifford fic #ashton Irwin fic

[romanticfistfightz]

Bruh if I looked up the “bands” tag on tumblr and saw fucking The Rolling Stones I wouldn’t get mad. Literally “mcyt” is such a broad label why are you mad that there’s literally popular mcyt’s in there. Just because you don’t like them doesn’t make them not mcyt’s. Just block “Dream SMP” tags and look for specific creators instead of general “mcyt”. I’m sorry there’s Minecraft Youtubers in your Minecraft youtube tag.

ive had dsmp blocked for a long time. what i mean is that because dsmp is so popular, they have their own tag. such as hermitcraft is mostly tagged as so, my chemical romance is tagged as mcr and not as "band". im not pissy about people tagging shit. im pissy about them fueling the stigma around mcyt fans. im pissy about people immediately connecting any mcyt to dream and co. its trending every second day, if not everyday, and guess what its trending under? mcyt. i dont believe dsmp fans, which once again, i used to be one of, arent aware of the impact they have on the general minevraft fan community. once again. im not angry if you tag your dsmp stuff as mcyt. im angry because thats what gets to trending, instead of dsmp tag. im angry because i know damn fucking well it touches people that are mcyt fans but not dsmp fans. im angry because it makes people's who don't enjoy dsmp but other mc content under the same umbrella. im angry because it makes people think we all support asshole cunts.

im not actively looking for specific creators. i follow the people i feel safe in following, i follow tags that i know are usually chill. people i follow here give me the mcyt content im looking for, but i know many people arent like that. i know damn well that many people jump on the mcyt hating train simply because its popular, the same way dsmp fans jump on trains with no idsa where they lead to. ive been a part of this or that fandom since 2013. ive made stupid mistakes and ive said dumb shit. i also know that the dsmp fandom is a fucking young one, so i dont expect yall to have everything figured out.

long story short. people are shitty, both in the dsmp fandom and out of it. ive been in the fandom and im not anymore, i have input from both sides. my issue isnt with what you tag your posts as, its with reinforcing the idea that mcyt equals strictly dream smp.

#ask #anonymous #lemme know if u want me to tag this shit so u dont have to see it #/gen

[enbyincrisis]

Hello here is an appreciation post for people who deserve the world and why.

If I have missed anyone please let me know!! I most likely have a very strong and loving opinion about them.

1. @revengeerafrankie

I have to include my lovely girlfriend because she is lovely and I love her. She puts up with my random nerd stuff and my facts about fish. She is kind and smart and helps me with math when I need. She is always there for me and I think she deserves more appreciation tbh. Oh and she’s also outrageously beautiful and it’s not fair on a helpless gay such as myself.

2. @library-fae

They are one of my favourite people in the whole world. They are always there for me both online and in person. One of my only friends in real life. I’ve known you for like 5 years now and I’m so proud of that fact. I’m also proud of you. You rock.

3. @scoutisahuman

I fucking love Scout. We have many differences in opinion and interests but she is still one of my favourite people who has ever existed ever. Also her Scottish accent is my favourite thing. Thank you for getting excited over statistics with me.

4. @does-existance-exist

What a lovely person!! I love them so much and also they are my favourite parent. Very kind, 10/10. Reminds me to take care of myself when I forget. Deserves more appreciation and affection. Where would the world be without them honestly.

5. @justsomebandomtrash

Great person with a great blog. I adore them so much. We don’t speak often but they are incredible. Also they don’t tell me to go away when I talk about fish and that’s a real virtue right there.

6. @a5thearmchairexpert250

What an incredible human being. Absolutely astounding. 10/10. Very funny. Also conversations with them are very educational. I would recommend talking to them as it always makes my day.

7. @rockinoutforthdead

I absolutely love their content!! They make me feel a lot better about my own gender and they’re fucking awesome in general. Very funny, very good blog. Excellent taste in music - I will be forever grateful for them introducing me to As It Is. I have a million things to say about them but I’m going to stop now.

8. @shrugsareschrodingerskink

What an excellent person. Incredibly strange content but I connect with that on a personal level. Very good vibes 10/10. Also a very kind person, I would recommend both following and talking to them. I love you!!

9. @demolition-platonic-buddies

Awesome person with great content. Tbh I miss the jeans era. I wish I could speak to them more often because they’re awesome ;-;

10. @books-fandoms-and-mcr

They rock so much I love them. Very funny person and I adore their content. Also very kind. I am so sorry about that time I cursed you with the experience of listening to several songs at once, please forgive me and be my friend.

11. @bee-suit-frank

How cool are they!! Very funny and also kind. Checked in on me when I really really needed it. Excellent vibes 10/10. I would very much like to be better friends with you but alas I am scared of talking to new people.

12. @spooky-scary-frank-iero

Amazing incredible human being. Please continue being you. Very funny, very good taste. Kind. Should love themselves more. Again, I would like to be your friend but I fear new people.

13. @kaz3313

The first person who was ever kind to me on tumblr. You honestly changed my life even if you don’t know it because now that I talk to people here I don’t hate myself as much. Very kind and sweet. Doesn’t judge me for strange interests and things I wonder about.

I love you all!! Please go give these people love because they deserve this!! I might do this again at some point idk. Here is a virtual hug. *hug*

[jcmorrigan]

Epithet Half-Baked!

I saw through @selfshipimagines that @nougatships is having a Yuletide F/O event...and I know I’m kind of a flighty, shadowy entity in this community, but I do like to write, and thought, what the hey, this’ll be fun. So here I come out of nowhere to contribute a thing.

The F/O? Giovanni Potage from Epithet Erased. The S/I? Rachel Scribere - mundie, writer of much fanfiction, independent contractor supervillainous minion who has also given up on adulting. (Most of those things apply to me IRL!) I decided to go with something a little on-the-nose for the “catering” theme and write about the two of us trying to arrange party food - expect much food talk and many headcanons (e.g. I see Gio as ace, even though that may not end up being Word of God). For optimal results, please listen to the Mariah Carey/MCR mashup “Welcome to the Christmas Parade” while reading this. Not to mention that song will change your life anyway. (Freeman DNI unless you’re going to get the name of the band CORRECT) 

***

I wouldn’t say Christmas was my favorite holiday, because it really wasn’t. Nor would Giovanni ever say Christmas was his favorite holiday, because he wanted to look like a cool guy who didn’t care about Christmas. That said, when our invitation arrived in the mail, neither of us needed to do much cajoling to get the other to agree to attend as a plus-one. Almost immediately, we’d begun work on what we were going to wear to the occasion.

           Well, to be fair, Giovanni was doing most of the work in that department. I’m still trying to figure out how a needle and thread even works for something besides a dangerous impromptu sushi fork. I did play a role in the design of my formal wear, however – a full-skirted red-and-green gown that served the purpose of making me look like the princess of Christmas and thereby able to pass laws banning the repeated playing of “Jingle Bell Rock” more than three times per night. As for Giovanni, he was dead set on creating the World’s Ugliest Christmas Sweater, and boy, did it ever deserve that capitalization. I don’t have the words to you to describe properly the conglomeration of non-coordinating colors and mismatched winter-holiday symbolism that went into that monstrosity. Which basically meant we were going to be the two best-dressed people in attendance.

           However, that still left the important factor: the catering aspect. This was essentially a potluck, and as much as we would have loved to skim off everyone else’s hors d’ouevres and pretend we “dropped” ours on the way there, eventually, our need to show off our cooking skills combined with my compulsion to contribute to community activities won out over the dark side of our consciences.

           My first mistake was going into that kitchen with no idea what Giovanni was planning on making. Me? I was set on a hot-chocolate-and-marshmallow cake. Festive and full of my two favorite flavors! Not to mention I’d baked in the past as a hobby, though it had, admittedly, been a while. I was actually rather looking forward to this.

           “So, Composer,” Giovanni asked as I set up my laptop, “can we expect any musical entertainment?”

           “Damn right,” I said as I clicked through playlists.

           “Just please tell me you’re not gonna stick us with three hours of Christmas music bullshit.”

           “Oh, trust me. We are going to get enough of that at this party.” I set off a rather jaunty emo-pop number with guitars that were just obnoxious enough.

           “Oh, yeah,” Giovanni cried, “this is PERFECT! Totally captures our debonair yet badass essence. THIS is why I let you pick the car music.”

           I gave him a playful bow. “Okay. Let’s do this thing.”

           I began rounding up my ingredients: flour, sugar, cocoa powder, et cetera, et cetera…

           “Done.”

           Wait…”What?”

           I had only just gotten my ingredients lined up on the counter, yet Giovanni was leaning over the other edge of the island, elbows on the countertop and head in his hands to give me a playfully innocent look, as an enormous pot of something steaming, golden, and tantalizingly scented sat before him.

           I peered into the vessel, making note of the contents. “Is this…butternut squash soup?”

           “You know it.”

           “…You made soup.”

           “Is there a…problem with that?”

           “Your Epithet is literally soup.”

           “Aaaaaand…?”

           I marched around to shake my index finger at him on every word: “You. Fucking. CHEATED.”

           He rose, pointing right back at me: “I’m. The. BAD GUY. So I don’t care!”

           I gave my eyes a sufficiently dramatic roll. “You realize this is gonna take me like two hours.”

           “I’ll watch.”

           “You could at least help. You’re good with this stuff, you know.”

           “Hmm…” Giovanni pretended to think it over. “No, don’t think I will.”

           “I hate you.”

           “That’s too bad, because I love you a lot, Composer.”

           I blushed, then muttering “IloveyoutooandIdon’thateyouandIwasjustkidding.” Quickly followed up with “Okay, I’m gonna start doing this shit BY MYSELF, then.”

           Baking an entire cake with your boyfriend just smugly staring at you is…an experience. Not a bad experience. But an experience. Still, I thought I was on a good track so far. Until it came to the electric mixer.

           As a disclaimer, I stated, “It’s been a while. I’m a little rusty.”

           “It’s just an electric mixer.” He shrugged. “Even I couldn’t screw up – I mean even SOME LOSER LIKE SYLVIE couldn’t screw up using it.”

           Well, now the pressure was on. I flicked the appliance to life, dipping it into a pool of eggs suspended in buttermilk, and immediately plunged into chaos. The thing about electric mixers is that they are an extreme balancing act. Too far down into the bowl, and the blades will make a horrible grinding noise against the bowl bottom, making a catastrophizer like me worry about glass shards ending up baked into the dough. However, it is very important that if this happens to you, you do not do what I did and overcompensate by yanking the still-spinning blades out of the bowl, thereby splattering eggs and buttermilk all over yourself.

           As I was attempting to figure out damage control, I became acutely aware of Giovanni trying to hide an absolute fit of giggles. “You know,” I growled, “this wouldn’t HAPPEN if you would HELP me.”

           I absolutely did not want him to help me. See, I have an inferiority complex the size of the sun, and even that feels weird to say, since it’s admitting I actually possess a large quantity of anything. I wanted to make this monster cake my goddamn self, and I wanted him to be fucking impressed. Still, I was pretty sure if I didn’t ask for his help, I would just end up with some kind of inedible toxic waste.

           I wasn’t sure if he was just playing coy or if he knew me all too well when he said “No. Don’t feel like it.”

           “Come on!”

           “Composer, this is YOUR time to shine! I’m not getting in the way of YOUR masterpiece blowing away the competition?”

           “…Gio, it’s not a com – “

           “OF COURSE IT’S A COMPETITION! EVERY POTLUCK IS A COMPETITION! WHY ELSE HAVE EVERYONE BRING DISHES OF VARYING QUALITY IF NOT TO DETERMINE THE SUPREME CHEF AT THE PARTY?”

           Well, if it meant somebody might think of me as supreme chef, I sure wasn’t going to argue. Unhealthy as that might be for my ego.

           So I let Giovanni actively not help me. Even when I tried to crack another egg and it rather exploded from my overuse of momentum. But thankfully, the rest of it seemed to be coming together well. As it baked, I decided to use that time to put together the icing. The recipe, of course, called for cream cheese icing, but that is not real icing (don’t @ me) and I absolutely refuse to sully any of my confections with it, ever. I was making the real stuff – just butter, chocolate, milk, and way too much sugar.

           However, that meant a rematch with my archnemesis: the electric mixer. I gave it a very sour glare as I picked it up again.

           “Ooh, someone’s mad,” Giovanni teased.

           “Damn right I’m mad,” I told him. “This thing fucking hates me.”

           “No…I think you’re just bad with it.”

           “WHAT THE – “

           He was at my side then, using one hand to guide my face upward to meet his gaze: “Because no one and nothing could ever hate you, my beautiful, beautiful Composer. And anyone who does can EAT SOUL-SLUGGER DOOM-BAT.”

           Well. Now I was a flustered mess. I gently leaned forward to rest my forehead temporarily on his collarbone. “No, you,” I teased. “I mean it. People who hate you don’t have souls. End of discourse.”

           “And this is why we GO TOGETHER!”

           “Damn straight.”

           It would have been a beautiful moment if I hadn’t been thwarted, yet again, by the mixer. The grinding of the glass, the startled removal of the blades, a chocolate splatter –

           Except this time, it missed me. No, the stuff made a direct hit on the tall, pink-haired, and handsome card-carrying villain standing next to me.

           I gaped at him momentarily, unsure what to say. Then it all came rushing out: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry – “

           “Sorry?” he repeated, and at first, I thought he actually was angry. “You’re SORRY? Oh, it’s too late to be sorry, Composer.”

           When he picked up the quarter-full bottle of vanilla extract from the counter beside us, I realized his game. “This means war,” he growled in a not-very-growly-at-all way.

           Our eyes locked. His way of asking permission. I gave the slightest of nods; “I guess I deserve it. But you know I’m not going down without a fight.”

           The vanilla sloshed onto me. I smashed an egg onto his shirt. He dumped about a half-gallon of soup down the back of mine.

           Now, what you must understand about a food fight that takes place in the Potage-Scribere kitchen is that anything, and I mean absolutely anything, becomes a weapon. Even things that weren’t part of the dishes we were cooking. The refrigerator was raided, the cupboards stripped bare for the ensuing battle. Whatever we could hit each other with, we did. Smashing tomatoes against each other. Sneaking ice cubes into each other’s clothes to try and get a shriek. Several different flavors of soup flying through the air, of course. Retaliation in the form of grabbing the sprayer from the sink and brandishing it like a Banzai Blaster standard-issue pea-shooter.

           Then my timer let out a “ding” to inform me that the cake was done baking. Giovanni froze, standing perfectly still as I transferred the cake to the fridge to let it cool down.

           Then we picked up right where we left off.

           It came to a head when Giovanni had ended up with two cans of aerosol whipped cream, dual-wielding them at me. I had an ice cream scoop in a tub of whipped cream, ready to lob it like a snowball.

           Wait -            “Gio, why do we have three things of whipped cream?”

           “Well, I picked these up when you texted me our respective assignments for grocery day last weekend.”

           “I told you to get toilet paper. I was gonna get the whipped cream.”

           “No, you said YOU were getting the toilet paper, and I should pick up whipped cream.”

           “DID EITHER OF US GET TOILET PAPER?”

           “���I’m thinking no,” Giovanni mused.

           “Okay, emergency store run after this for toilet paper,” I declared. “Resume.”

           Instead of turning the cans on me, Giovanni spun to kick an apple off the counter so that it would hit me in the sternum. I recoiled, but only slightly. “The fuck was that?”

           “That? Oh, THAT was…well, Composer, have you been keeping track of how many hits I’ve landed on you?”

           My eyes widened. “SON OF A BITCH.”

           “THAT’S RIGHT!” Giovanni crowed. “TWELVE! WHICH MEANS WHEN I LET THESE CANS LOOSE ON YOU, IT’S GONNA BE CRITICAL!”

           I let go of the ice cream scoop; it clanged to the floor. “Okay, okay!” I put up that hand in a gesture of surrender. “I give!”

           “…Seriously? But it’s no fun if you – “

           “I am NOT in the mood to get blasted by critical whipped cream, Gio.”

           Giovanni shrugged, not letting go of either can. “All right. Then it stops here.”

           I pouted. “I really am sorry I started it. Can we just…you know…kiss and make up?”

           “Absolutely.”

           I had counted on this. I let him shut his eyes, pucker his lips slightly, lean forward. I advanced.

           And then, screaming “WORTH IT!”, smashed the tub of whipped cream directly at his face.

           The resulting blast of the aerosol whip was like getting hit with the blast of twenty-six cans of aerosol whip – which, really, isn’t that harmful at all. Just a lot messier and with some added momentum; I ended up skidding across the kitchen floor. “Okay!” I laughed. “I really do give in now! I promise!”

           Giovanni was already scooping the cream off his face and shoveling it into his mouth (and this is the part where I want to remind you that as ripe of a picking as this seems for innuendo, neither of our sex-repulsed minds would have it). He then slumped down onto the tile next to me, leaning onto me.

           “Well played, minion,” he said with a grin. “We’ll make a bona fide villain out of you yet.”

           “Bold of you to assume I’m not already there.”

           We actually did kiss then, tasting all the sweeter for being covered in sugar.

#yuletide f/o event #selfship #hoooo boy putting myself out here like this #kinda wanna write more of these? #they'd be tumblr-exclusive though #not for my ao3

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

Emo and Proud (Shinsou Hitoshi X Reader)

Summary: You decide to give Shinsou some music therapy by encouraging him to sing along with you to vent out your stress and some deeper feelings are revealed. 

Hehe one of my headcanons is that Shinsou is a big-time MCR fan, in a way like Misty Day is a fan of Stevie Nicks from American Horror Story :3

BTW SORRY FOR ANY OOC-NESS!!

Featuring: Our Favorite Purple Boy!

You sighed as you finished watching Aggretsuko for the 10th time on your phone.

It was such a cute show even with it’s 15 minute episode runtime. That poor little adorable red panda; you wondered if you would ever end up like that someday since you were going to be a pro-hero someday, and it wasn’t exactly a glamorous job for everyone.

If there’s one thing that show taught you, it’s that music is one of the most life-saving outlets to vent out your emotions. And boy was that true, because your music was pretty much one of your sanctuaries that let you feel and express yourself whenever you sang to yourself or just let all your old nostalgia come back to you in the comfort of your room.

But it was time to pull an Aggretsuko and use the power of music to relieve the stress you had been feeling after the Joint Training and training in general. You knew being a hero would be hard work, but damn, your teacher was starting to look more like a slave-driver at this point.

Thankfully, somehow everyone had managed to catch a break since nothing was really going on… yet at least. And to salvage this break, you secluded yourself from your friends, as much as you loved them, sometimes you needed some alone time.

So, you politely declined their invite to the arcade and stood behind in the dorms. Once you were sure that most of them were gone, you set up a TV you had brought since you couldn’t live without a large-enough television and for the movie nights for weekends.

You hooked it up to your phone and grabbed a brush to act as a makeshift microphone from your room and played up an old nostalgic song from the singer who rose up yet again. It’s a good thing nobody was here, because you were really rocking out and banging your head with the guitar solo. Not that you would have cared, but you didn’t care for some of the remarks you would get, especially from that jackass Bakugou or that snarky chick Jirou.

“Try to tell me what I shouldn’t do.You should know by now, I won’t listen to you. Walk around with my hands up in the air, ‘cause I don’t care… ‘Cause I’m alright, I’m fine! Just freak out let it go!”

Dancing a little bit and raising your fist, you sang as loud as you could and really let yourself cut loose, so much that you were oblivious to someone entering the room who had taken the time to pause and stare at you as you danced.

“I’m gonna live my life, I can’t ever run and hide I won’t compromise ‘cause I’ll never know. I’m gonna close my eyes, I can’t watch the time go by. I won’t keep it inside! Freak out let it go! Just freak out let it go!”

You were flailing your arms about, flipping your (H/L) hair as much as you could, shaking your butt as you pumped your fists to get back in tune with your inner Avril. The music was so loud you couldn’t hear the very quiet snickers coming from your audience.

“Gonna freak out let it go! Gonna freak out let it go!”

Banging your head as the final riff ended you threw your arms up vigorously, “WHOO!” You shouted, turning around with a big grin that dramatically and comically fell as soon as you saw the person you had no idea had been watching you just about the whole time…

“OH GOD! H-Hitoshi!!”

Wild purple hair and all, beautiful, tired purple eyes gleaming with such amusement as his lips were lined with a smirk. He slowly brought his hands up to give you a deliberately slow clap.

“Impressive…” Shinsou finally spoke up, his tone sounding casual and low-key as possible but you knew that this was clearly extremely amusing to him as your face involuntarily grew hot.

“How much of that did you hear… and see…?” You shouldn’t have asked that, but you were curious.

“Everything from ‘Try to tell me what I shouldn’t do’.” He answered you and you sighed a bit, shrugging your shoulders with your hands up in defeat.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be here… sometimes you just need time to yourself ya know?” Sighing, you almost felt embarrassed. Shinsou wasn’t even in your class at the beginning and yet you befriended him during the Sports Festival a LOT quicker than you did your own classmates. It all started when you asked for him to be on your team, which shocked the hell out of him since he didn’t even have to brainwash you like he did Ojiro and Aoyama. And from then, you two just clicked and stood in touch.

“I know. That’s why I didn’t go with the rest of the others.” He agreed with your sentiment, which made you actually kind of happy.

Shinsou was a complete introvert, and yet you managed to get through to him due to similar interests in music, especially when you discussed how the two of you were ‘permanently stuck in your emo phases’. And then you knew about his fondness for cats, which you found extremely adorable since you had a soft spot for cats yourself.

Finally, there was your quirks, and you knew all about the prejudice he got from people simply because his Brainwashing quirk gave him the ability to control people. You had gotten somewhat similar flak for your quirk since your quirk also allowed you to control people, except you had control over their bodies and not their minds.

Emo birds of a feather gloomed and listened to MCR together.

The more you two talked, the closer you became. Which is why you were overjoyed when he started training with Aizawa and finally got into the Hero Course with you and your friends.

But the problem was… now that you were closer to him, you had fallen almost hopelessly in love with him. And now you just embarrassed yourself in front of him even though the plan was to have some time for yourself. However, because you liked Shinsou so much, it was always okay for him to be around you; you could relate to him and you never wanted him to feel like he couldn’t be around you.

“Well hey. We can be alone together… you’re one of the very few people who don’t annoy me. And EVERYONE annoys me.” You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“I can say the exact same thing about you.” Shinsou said as he took a seat on the couch, sighing heavily as you frowned a bit and went over to him. He’d been working extra hard since Aizawa took him under his wing, you were sure that he must have been exhausted.

“Dude you need to relax…” You said, setting your brush down and placing your hands on his shoulders that made him freeze ever so slightly from the unexpected touch. But he wouldn’t ever make himself appear flustered in front of you so he kept his cool.

“It’s not easy to relax when you’re constantly working… even on break-days like these…” He muttered a bit as you started to massage his shoulders a bit.

“Yeah but you can still try! You work too hard man… Aizawa’s really been kicking your ass ever since he took you up… I mean yeah it’s awesome that you’re with us now but you need a goddamn break dude…” You said gently despite your language, digging into his shoulder blades as he grunted a bit but then sighed quietly in content with how good your fingers felt on his sore muscles. Muscles he’d been growing ever since he started training that is…

“I might just sleep or something… that’s a smart way to take a break.” He said, but you immediately shut that idea down.

“Ugh, you’re training WITH Aizawa, not training to BE Aizawa, Hitoshi. Sleeping is great, but you know what else is great? Singing~.” You sang that to get your point across but that just served to irk the purple-haired boy even as he let out a small groan when you got another sore spot that helped him ease up a little bit.

He sighed again, “I don’t sing… I’m probably not even good at it…”

“I’m not good at it but I still do it! You ain’t gotta be good at singing to do it, it’s just fun! Plus you get to vent out everything in the lyrics of awesome songs! Avril Lavigne, Evanescence, Good Charlotte, Three Days Grace, Simple Plan, My Chemical Romance!” You exclaimed and listed out some of the many singers that you enjoyed during your emo phase and STILL enjoyed.

Shinsou didn’t flinch, but hearing those names nearly made him perk up since he DID like all of those groups and singers. Especially My Chemical Romance…

“I mean those guys defined our childhood and shaped up the emo phase that we grew up with and loved because we just didn’t give a fuck about anything and just sang the loser anthems that spoke of our existences at the time… It was a time to be alive because it allowed us to say ‘I am emo and I am proud’.” You somewhat dramatically explained and Shinsou gave you a look when you stopped massaging his shoulders and started talking nonsense.

“It’s who we are Hitoshi! We have all these feelings that we need to vent out! And remind people of the times we grew up in! Say it with me! I am emo and I am proud!” You threw your fist in the air, and naturally Shinsou didn’t follow you as he just stared at you.

”Did you watch Aggretsuko again?” He knew you loved singing, but he had a feeling that one of your favorite modern cartoons had something to do with this little idea of ours.

“Yes… yes I have…” You replied to him rather nonchalantly.

“You watch way too much cartoons…” He shook his head, trying his hardest to not smile or snicker at how stupid you sounded.

“Cartoons also defined my childhood because sometimes you needed a break from your emo phase bro… but my point is… just try it. I sang my heart out to Avril and I already feel a ton better! Aggretsuko teaches that and it’s an excellent lesson!’” You threw your hands up cheerfully, but Shinsou just stared at you with his deadpan look.

“Okay, you must have me confused with someone who does embarrassing things without a care in the world.” He snarked, trying to not show that this kinda thing made him feel a little… nervous. Especially with you here. He wasn’t ready to embarrass himself in front of you, not after you had to watch him lose to Midoriya in the Sports Fest.

And he nearly jumped when you suddenly put your arm around him. “Tosh… it’s ME. You know I’d never judge you. I mean you don’t have to… but I’m sure you’d be awesome at it… you’ve sung a few of your emo phase songs to yourself with the door closed whenever you got in one of those ‘fuck the world’ moods haven’t you?” You softly reassured him, giving him a choice even as you asked him a question.

Shinsou willed himself to not blush with how close you were and how you touched him like that, instead focusing on your words as he looked somewhat defeated. “Yes…”

He gave a heavy sigh. As much as he didn’t entirely want to, he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you were trying to just help him relax. Shinsou would only EVER sing for you.

“Okay… I’ll do one. But you’re not allowed to laugh.” Shinsou finally and reluctantly complied and you practically screamed from joy.

“YES!!! Let’s get out Emo on!” You hugged him suddenly , doing a bit of a dance when you finally got your wallflower friend to try this out with you.

So you gladly grabbed your phone to start looking up a selection of songs, as Shinsou sighed again, unable to believe that he was actually doing this. Well, he trusted you, and generally had fun whenever he did things with you. And although you were more energetic than he was at times, he didn’t mind. He enjoyed that you had more zest than he did.

“All right! Here’s one! Take it Toshi!” You suddenly tossed him your hairbrush, and he quickly caught it, giving you a look afterward.

“(Y/N)…” Shinsou was beginning to feel a bit of nerves even though he shouldn’t have, but it got worse when he saw the song you chose.

This was one of his FAVORITE songs.

“No I can’t… I can’t do Gerard any justice…” He muttered a bit self-consciously, but you just shook your head.

“Yes you can! No one’s a bigger fan of Gerard than you are! Now go on! I’m with ya Toshi!” You smiled wide at him to ease him up, and you took the floor when the song immediately started up

“Long ago, just like the hearse, you die to get in again… we are so far from you…”

Deliberately, you whispered that last part to imitate how the song went, and looked right at Shinsou to cue him to go next. He appeared unsure for a bit, until he took a quick breath.

“Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate… the lives of everyone you know! And what’s the worst you take from every heart you break… And like a blade you stain, well, I’ve been holding on tonight…!”

You nearly jumped as soon as THAT voice came out of Shinsou’s mouth. So much energy and passion as he became MUCH more expressive as he sang the song. His singing voice a lot louder and emotional than his speaking one, and yet there was something haunting and tortured about his voice too. It was beautiful…

However, Shinsou suddenly became more adorable in your eyes as he clutched the hairbrush close to him as he sung and and waved his arm about, as if to follow the way Gerard moved and sung in the music video.

As he sung, at that moment he remembered that you were here as soon as he saw your wide (E/C) eyes and agape mouth. You saw his cheeks beginning to redden as he nearly halted in the verse but you shook your head vigorously, wanting to encourage him to keep going!

“What’s the worst that I could say?”

“Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~!“

You jumped in, singing the first part before bringing your hairbrush over to Shinsou, and he gladly sang the rest along with you. Although you had to whoop when Shinsou got into it, running a hand through his wild hair and following Gerard’s every move from the video.

Crazy, passionate expression and everything and making the same hand gestures and you couldn’t help but dance just as wild as the dancers did and some air guitar, following Shinsou’s rhythm.

“Came a time when every star fall brought you to tears again… we are the very hurt you sold. And what’s the worst you take from every heart you break… And like a blade you stain, well, I’ve been holding on tonight…!”

“What’s the worst that I could say? Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~! Well, if you carry on this way, things are better if I stay… So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight…!” 

Encouraged, by your enthusiasm, Shinsou got on his knees as he sung the chorus with the loudest voice you had ever heard from him. Although he stood back up a little dramatically when the last bridge came.

He took your hand gently, pulling you in closer as he continued to sing, in a softer, almost whispery voice.

“Can you hear me…?”

“Are you near me…?”

Shinsou looked you right in the eyes, purple eyes luring your (E/C) eyes in an almost intimate moment as your cheeks flushed pink. It felt like this was just for you, and Shinsou made sure of it as he gently pressed his forehead against yours. Silently telling you that this was for you, and that only you could see him bear his soul like this.

You quietly gasped, for a moment you nearly felt like you were in his control because of how his voice just captivated you. But feeling extremely relaxed and yet fluttery with joy as you giggled a bit. When he pulled away, you saw his own face become bashfully flushed as you grinned when he started to sing again.

“Can we pretend to leave and then…”

“We’ll meet again, when both our cars collide!”

While Shinsou sung, you followed his lead, widening your eyes dramatically and pretending to fall backwards like the girl in the video as the chorus came.

“What’s the worst that I could say? Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~! Well, if you carry on this way, things are better if I stay…So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight…!”

Feeling more invigorated than ever before, Shinsou sang the chorus a little louder, yet still on-key as put his hand over his heart and bore the rest of his soul out.

And when he finished the song, he promptly dropped your hairbrush and you threw both your hands up in the air. “WHOOOO!! That’s my Toshi!” You practically screamed, almost like a fangirl as you quickly threw yourself into him, hugging him tightly and jumping a little bit as Shinsou’s eyes grew slightly wide and he felt his face heating up a bit. He was confident during the song, but now his bashfulness came back.

“That was AWESOME! I didn’t even know you could sing!”

Shinsou really hated his pale skin sometimes, because now he couldn’t hide how much he was blushing from all of your praise.

“I don’t do it much… just in private… I don’t think I’m that good…” He normally wasn’t timid, but you were complimenting him so much and he wasn’t used to that kind of praise. He liked it a lot though, it just made him feel kind of nervous, and yet validated.

“Well you freakin’ ROCKED dude! You totally did Gerard justice!” You continued the compliments, adoring just how red Shinsou was turning as he rubbed the back of his neck and coyly grinned.

“You’re just saying that…” He mumbled a little bit, and for once he flinched when he felt lips pecking his already hot cheek as you giggled and blushed, shaking your head.

“Nope! I mean it… and… I mean it when I say this but… Hitoshi… I think… no… I know… I uh… I like you… not even that… I like-like you…” There you said it, you finally admitted your feelings for the guy. You were a little unsure, but that song and seeing him unleash the soul you fell in love with just brought out the rest of your feelings for him.

Shinsou was taken by surprise. Nothing fazed him that much, but for once he was taken aback, his purple eyes wide and his expression that one of surprise and disbelief. He’s NEVER had this happen to him before. No one’s ever like-liked him before.

“W-What?” He didn’t mean to stutter, but he couldn��t really help it.

“Hee-hee… I’m in love with you…” Giggling shyly, your cheeks began to darken, “Don’t make me say it again, my heart’s like, beating out of my chest…” You shyly said, and although Shinsou was still blushing, he started to smirk a little bit when he saw just how flushed you were. He knew you weren’t lying, but he was still amazed that SOMEONE actually like-liked him. And yet he was also overjoyed that someone he felt close to and actually liked, like-liked him. And if he was being honest, he like-liked you too.

“Well... I actually like-like you too... you’re the only person I think I completely trust.” He admitted, still giving you his little smile. Shinsou wasn’t lying, he’d never show anyone what a dork he could be, except for you. Because you were just as big an emo dork as he was. You were his dork, and he was your dork. 

Your eyes went huge and you blushed heavily when he... reciprocated your feelings?! Was this for real? It had to be. Shinsou never lied to you, he layed jokes on you sometimes, but this wasn’t one of them... 

“For real...?”

“Yes. You’re a complete dork. But... you’re my dork.” Shinsou finally admitted, it wouldn’t be a common thing, but he had to get that across to you just so you wouldn’t faint from how red you were. And he almost jumped when you screamed and hugged him again, very much like a fangirl almost.

“AHHHH! You know it! And you’re MY dork too!” You happily exclaimed, hugging him tightly as Shinsou sighed a little bit, but found it in him to hug you back with a little smile. 

He’d never say it to anyone, but he loved his dork.

~~~Bonus Ending~~~

"We are not alone..." You suddenly perked up where you hugged Shinsou, and he sensed that too. Somebody else was around, and probably eavesdropping on the two of you. "I think I know who." He said lowly, albeit he wasn't entirely bothered; he wasn't happy, but he wasn't bothered either since this person was your friend.

"Ohhhh..." Giggling, you figured out who it was based on that alone. "Hey! Tokoyami! Come out dude I know you're hiding back there." You blatantly called him out, but of course Tokoyami himself didn't reply from the corner.

"No we're not!" Dark Shadow replied for him, and you could hear Tokoyami's annoyed, deep sigh.

"My apologies. It wasn't my intention to eavesdrop..." The crow-headed boy slowly came out of hiding as you waved to him, while Shinsou looked mildly annoyed, having assumed that you were his only audience.

"Oh really? Heh... let me guess... did you hear the song?" You raised a brow, as much as you could at least and Tokoyami looked downwards, almost as if he were a little embarrassed even though you knew he had the same tastes in music you and Shinsou did.

"Yes... I did. It was very impressive. Like Gerard Way was reawakened from his slumber." He somewhat dramatically said as you smiled wide and giggled, patting Shinsou on the back happily. "I know right?! See Tosh! You're AWESOME! And Tokoyami here is one of us! Let's let him hang with us!" You cheerfully suggested, which just annoyed Shinsou even more. However, Tokoyami was pretty harmless and didn't seem to have a thing for you. Even if he did, it was too late because you were his now.

"Okay. I don't see the harm." Shinsou shrugged his shoulders as you happily clapped your hands. "Ahaha! Tokoyami! Hope ya don't mind singing!" That made the similarly emo boy perk up ever so slightly. He didn't plan on singing...

"I'm not a singer." Tokoyami quickly replied. Much like Shinsou, he wasn't entirely willing to show off because he doubted his abilities, but you weren't going to let him feel so insecure as you started the next song.

"You will be!" You smirked, winking at Shinsou as you immediately started to sing the first lyrics. A song you knew no true emo like Tokoyami could ever resist.

"Oh, well imagine, as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor and I can't help but to hear. No, I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words~."

You got into it and picked your head up as soon as you sang the first part, running a hand through hair as you sang in your hairbrush, not so subtly flirting with Shinsou as he couldn't help but smirk as you gave him your brush to let him take the next part.

"What a beautiful wedding! What a beautiful wedding, says a bridesmaid to a waiter, and, yes, but what a shame, what a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore."

Shinsou gladly sung, which surprised you a little bit because he was more comfortable when it was only you. And he was, but he knew that you and Tokoyami were just friends, even if the guy liked you it was too late. You were all his now. Still, he would let the fellow emo join in since he was very like-minded and wouldn't judge you both. However, you both just made him feel a little nervous, it didn't help when you gave him the hairbrush...

But Tokoyami knew this song by heart. Every lyric, every rhythm...

He couldn't help it.

"I chime in with a 'Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?' No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality!”

Now you and Shinsou were shocked, both of your eyes growing wide when the ever-so-stoic, dark prince-y bird boy Tokoyami, of ALL people, actually singing with an almost uncharacteristic enthusiasm as he held onto the hairbrush you gave him and sung into it.

But you couldn't help but smile wide, glancing at Shinsou as he shrugged with a small smile. The bird was shocking pretty good too. Might as well join in.

"I chime in with a 'Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?!' No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of... poise and rationality! Again..."

Following Tokoyami's lead, you and Shinsou acted as his back-up singers by singing the chorus with him and you provided the crazy dances as the three of you vigorously rocked out.

Emo and proud.

~~~Extra Bonus Ending~~~

Meanwhile downstairs...

"Man it sounds like they're having fun up there..." Kirishima and the rest of the 'Bakusquad' had returned to Heights Alliance early, and you had pretty much put your music on full blast once you hooked it up to the TV. And didn't count on anyone coming back so quick...

"I kinda wanna go up and join em!" Kaminari was getting into the music he was hearing through the walls. "YEAH! Let's go and party with those guys!" Mina would never say no to cutting lose and dancing to awesome music.

"I'm sure (Y/N) will let us. Most of us..." Sero shrugged his shoulders with his casual smile, having known you fairly well but he wasn't so sure you would let ALL of them hang out since you and Bakugou never really entirely got along.

"Amateurs..." Bakugou muttered under his breath as he marched upstairs to go to the floor you were occupying. You were being WAY too damn loud, but at that moment he decided he'd show you how a REAL singer sings My Chemical Romance.

SO LONG AND GOOD NIGHT TUMBLR!!!!

I own nothing :3

#shinsou hitoshi #shinsō hitoshi #bnha shinsou #bnha hitoshi #mha shinsou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shinsou x reader #hitoshi x reader #bnha imagines #reader insert #mha imagines #mcr #my chemical romance #shinsou is an mcr fan #that's my headcanon #it makes perfect sense #we all went through an emo phase

[sweetsweetamber]

23.06.2020

Emailed this to a friend earlier today.

I have been putting off even beginning to allow myself to process my feelings on this since I found out Zac Hanson was a raging racist, transphobic, sexist piece of shit. The problem is he keeps doubling down on his stance and making it so much worse, instead of letting me delete him from my memory and never have to think about him ever again.

This is so different to when multiple women came forward with allegations against Jesse Lacey. Like the second I found that out I never listened to Brand New ever again. Done, deleted. They were one of my favourite bands too, like the same level as Fall Out Boy, MCR, Panic and anything Andrew McMahon does. It hurt, mostly because I used their music to help me get through dealing with shitty men doing similar things to what Jesse Lacey did. But I haven’t really thought about them since, and I only miss their music sometimes. Maybe one day I’ll be able to listen to it without feeling disgusted, but that time is still a long way off.

I am also not the kind of person to idolise celebrities really? Not since I was a kid, anyway. Like all my favourite bands now, I have no idea about their personal lives beyond probably the mid 2000s. I have no clue what their kids, or wives names are, or even how many kids they have. I don’t even know all the names of the people in the band sometimes! I don’t feel connected to them as a person, I feel connected to them through their art, their music, their lyrics. As well as the fandom, the fans, the concerts, and the things I experienced in my life while listening to their music.

Anyway, here’s a brief timeline of what lead up to the main blowout to help put things in context:

May 25th-27th: George Floyd was murdered and Hanson posts normal content on social media with ordinary fan comments

May 28th: Protests against police brutality happen across America, Hanson shares a post about the rocket launch. A handful of fans (mostly Black and POC) express their hurt and frustration with Hanson in the comments

May 31st: Hanson posts advertising a livestream with an organisation that provides mental health support to musicians. Fans comment pleading with them to do the right thing, other fans start absolutely dog-piling those fans and tell them to stop “attacking” Hanson

June 2nd: Black out Tuesday. Taylor posts a black square and a few people comment asking him to actually say Black Lives Matter. The main Hanson account posts nothing.

June 3rd: Isaac posts on his account that “racism is wrong!” to very mixed reactions. Still won’t say Black Lives Matter.

June 4th: Zac posts about recording a podcast. He responds to a few comments about why he won’t say Black Lives Matter, it turns into a shit show and he deletes all the comments.

June 5th: The main Hanson account makes a post advertising their shitty yearly island vacation but it got blown up with backlash in the comments so they deleted the post. Zac makes a really fucking weird instagram text post, that says “Racism is wrong, but simply saying I denounce racism in a post will not save the life of the next young black man who comes upon it, or the next victim of reckless brutality”. The main Hanson account posts a photo with the one black hand in it they could find and still refuse to say Black Lives Matter.

This is where I jumped in and commented “Open your purse” and got completely torn apart by racist fans. I spent hours fighting back and supporting another indigenous Hanson fan who was also getting hurled tons of abuse in the comments. It was genuinely hard to try to calmly engage with these people who were spewing paragraphs about how Hanson don’t owe us anything and to “stop forcing your beliefs on them”. Whew. I think I blocked like 60 accounts, and had to change all my instagram settings to keep me as protected as possible without having to go private.

I knew Hanson fans were terrible. I found this out while in line for their first concert, when everyone was obnoxious assholes who wanted to brag about how many tens of thousands of dollars they’d spent following the tour (no one in line with me in the mornings were locals or even from New Zealand). The more money you spent, the more of a fan you were in their eyes.

This put me completely off ever going to their yearly fanclub island retreat which had been on my bucket list for at least a decade. The thought of being trapped on an island with Hanson and hundreds of complete assholes put me right off for life.

The funny thing is, I always met the nicest and most amazing fellow Hanson fans in line for other bands concerts? But the second concert I went to really solidified my opinion of Hanson fans being the most entitled assholes ever. I should have known it was only a hop skip and a jump for them to slide over being to racist as hell.

I eventually ended up deleting my original comment because a week later I was still getting angry racists coming at me for a fairly mild but sassy post. Which is hilarious because when Gerard Way made a similar half-assed post on his instagram, nearly every comment was “open your purse” and sarcastic “we stan a king who does nothing!!”. The next day he was like, I fucked up, here are some links and resources, we are redirecting the MCR store page to links to donate etc. There were probably some fans getting angry at the “backlash”, but if there were any I didn’t see it. Just insane to see the difference between two groups of fans for bands that I like(d).

On June 6th, a whole lot of Zac’s personal social media accounts got leaked, including a Pinterest board, youtube account and instagram account. He then he publicly confirmed they were all his because he’s a fucking idiot.

A few days later I got sent a link to the r/PostHanson subreddit, which had screengrabs of all of Zac’s pinterest boards. Seeing all those ridiculous and incredibly offensive “memes” was like a punch in the gut.

I had not kept up with this dude's personal life at all, I have forgotten his wife's name and lost track of how many kids he has after the first one. I just figured he was probably conservative because homeschooled + super religious + getting married quick and churning out babies. I’d never really heard or seen Hanson take a political stance on anything, but I didn’t really follow them too closely.

Apparently it was known to fans that Zac was SUPER INTO GUNS and played airsoft which is basically paintball crossed with modern military reenactment?

His pinterest page was completely full of stuff he’d pinned about guns (so many guns) and second amendment memes, that said things like “an 18 year old is too young to buy a gun, but a 5 year old is old enough to decide its own gender?” and one with a picture of a man and a woman with the caption “I told her guns make me feel uncomfortable, she said we should both see other men” which he added the comment “So true” to. The worst were the ones that were supportive of George Zimmerman.

I felt frightened, disgusted, and upset.

On June 8th the Hanson instagram account finally posted (with comments turned off) saying Black Lives Matter.

Since then, Zac has really just…. doubled down on being a shithead. He’s been posting as normal on his main account, blocking fans and deleting even mildly critical comments, liking the most disgusting comments that racist fans have been posting in support of him - one comment he liked was a fan justifying Zimmerman murdering Trayvon Martin. Also replying to some critical fans, making a ridiculously long comment where he thinks everyone is mad at him for being a second amendment nutter which genuinely made me more upset, angry and scared. He truly is the most dangerous type of white person: uneducated, ignorant, arrogant, and with a massive platform to spread his fucked up views. As someone else summed up so perfectly in a comment on one of his posts:

Too stubborn to look inward and see how their own actions, thoughts and behaviours are problematic. No desire to actually hear out marginalised voices. Instead, they'd rather create their own narrative, they want to play the victim, feign being attacked, deflect from any of the issues brought up, and will do anything BUT hold themselves accountable. Instead, they block black people and other POC (Rule #1 of what NOT to do right now), and will "like" comments of other uneducated ignorant white fans who are blindly loyal to anything he says and also don't care at all about marginalised and underrepresented people. Because it's all about HIM. The Poor, entitled, white man is feeling attacked. Zac, you are less than a man. Your development, somewhere down the line, was truly stunted.You are so brainwashed, so self righteous and so far gone, I don't know if you are even salvageable at this point. You would rather be in your bubble, clutching your guns and "liking" comments on your page that are defending the murder of black children than taking the bandwidth, introspection and WORK is takes to actually evolve and be a good person. As a black woman, at least I know now not to waste another dime of my money on you. Now go do what you do best and block another black voice, or write yet another tone deaf and ignorant response to make POC feel crazy (ie: "I'm sorry you are feeling hurt", "I love you", etc.) SAVE IT. That's more deflection bc YOU as the white man are CAUSING the hurt. If you want to love black people, start with explaining to all of your black fans why you believe a young, innocent black child named Trayvon Martin deserved to die because he attacked George Zimmerman. You were man enough to post it. Be man enough to defend it and stand BY your actions.

So I’m not entirely sure where that leaves me or where to go from here. I feel completely blindsided by the boy I picked as my favorite member when I was 12 grew up to be an abhorrent racist fuckhead. I saw in the subreddit support group someone said it feels like someone died and we are all in mourning, which sounds strange but it really does. The Zac Hanson I thought I knew is dead. He never really existed in the first place, or maybe he did for a short while before all the hate wormed its way into his heart.

I also believe that the type of music you choose says a lot about you as a person, and so much of my identity in my preteen and early teen years are wrapped up in Hanson. Both them as individuals as much as the music - I think that's why I can’t separate them because there has never been any separation between the two for me. I first heard Hanson on MTV with their music video for Mmmbop and decided I was in love with Zac before the song was over. I don’t think I can ever stomach listening to that song ever again.

Everyone makes mistakes, has racism to unlearn etc, but Zac hasn’t even bothered to lie and give us the PR answer of “I’m listening and learning etc”, even if he isn’t. He doesn’t even want to seem like he’s saving face because he truly thinks nothing he said or did was wrong, and that is the most horrifying thing of all.

I don’t know how to move past this. It's very easy to think, “people are flawed so you shouldn’t idolise them” but I can’t just snap my fingers and remove this weird 23 year old bond I have that is a mix of intense love and nostalgia? Like there was genuinely a point at age 13 where I actually truly believed: if he could just come to NZ and lock eyes with me at a concert we would fall in love and get married. Which sounds wild but it's how all 3 of them met their wives so it actually was a pretty solid plan.

I immediately took down my signed photo of the band that I had on the wall though because seeing it didn’t remind me of the happy memory of seeing them in concert for the very first time, it just reminded me that Zac is an awful person and his brothers are probably the same and just better at keeping their views private.

I always wanted to get my Hanson tattoo covered and redone but now I think I’m just going to get it covered. A lot of fans are selling or throwing out merch, but I don't want to do that so I've just packed the few things I have away so I don't have to see them for now.

Thinking about the time I met Zac makes me feel sick. It used to genuinely be the best day of my life that I could think about if I was having a shitty day and think “Hey, remember Zac Hanson hugged you”. I’m just so angry that he has tainted so many amazing and happy memories with the hateful rhetoric he is spewing now. I know over time it will hurt less but everything just hurts a lot right now.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk lmao.

#personal essay