#also post-bite mike completely stops seeing his friends

[and-stir-the-stars]

uuu aaaaaaAA

for question: what would the immediate aftermath of the bite be like? like generally in most aus where the bite incident happens-

(also just got on and new au?? you spoil me eheh)

long answer under the cut

I’m assuming you’re talking about My Brother My Wound, since this ask came in with all the other MBMW ones? If so, it’s funny that you’d call the au new; it’s actually my oldest au, I just haven’t talked about it on tumblr much for some reason

I hadn’t put much thought into what the immediate aftermath (as in, before Evan wakes up) would be, so thanks for the excuse to develop it more :) 

First, let me explain how the Bite goes down in the au: Gregory is late to Evan’s birthday party because he wanted to put finishing touches on Evan’s gift; he wanted the present to be extra perfect and special since Ev had to have his party somewhere that scares him. Liz is off with her friends somewhere off-screen, wanting to avoid Mike’s tormenting of Evan as much as possible so she can pretend she’s just hanging out with her friends having fun. Liz hears Evan crying as Mike drags him away, and as Gregory rushes forward in a (fruitless) attempt to save him, Elizabeth (not seeing what is happening) wishes both of her brothers would just disappear so they won’t embarrass her or remind her of how broken things are in their family anymore. Then, chomp. In the panic and confusion as William and Mike rush Evan to the hospital, Liz gets left behind at Fredbear’s. I might change this but I’m currently thinking that Freddy realizes she got left behind, and takes her with the rest of his family as they follow Evan to the hospital. 

So, immediate aftermath would go smth like this. 

Mike gets taken away from the Afton house for about a month while Evan is in his coma. You can probably come up with some kind of believable reason for why the authorities do this, but I’m just gonna come out and admit that it’s purely for plot reasons. Because with Michael gone, Liz is left alone in the Afton household for that month, alone with William and with the crushing guilt that both of her brothers are gone after she specifically wished that they would disappear. I shudder to think of her there alone, but Elizabeth just tries to duck her head and stay out of William’s radar, and William is busy dealing with fall out from the Bite on top of his normal workload. Even so, though, sometimes Liz can’t quite help but look to him for comfort. She asks him if Evan will be okay. She asks where Mike is. She asks if William is doing okay. She asks if they’ll all be okay, in the end. She mostly just gets clipped, insensitive answers (“Evan is a braindead vegetable who in all likelihood won’t be alive in a week” “Michael is out being an embarrassment, there’ll be hell to pay when he gets back” “don’t ask stupid questions, Elizabeth. Put it out of your mind and do not speak of it, not to me or, god forbid, anyone else.”). Liz has to go to her school “friends” for the comfort she isn’t getting at home, but unsurprisingly, her toxic friends don’t provide her with much comfort, either. Maybe teachers find her to be more clingy and desperate for approval than normal in this time period. 

Liz has pretty conflicting emotions when Mike finally gets dropped back off at home from whatever foster home or psych eval or juvie facility he was in. On one hand, her brother’s back; she’s not to blame for him being gone anymore. On the other hand, she listened to William go on a lot of rants where he called Mike and the place Mike was at all kinds of bad words, and in his anger, he made it seem like it was Mike’s fault that Mike left, like it was some kind of choice Mike had made to leave them and go be “a humiliation”. So, Liz holds some resentment toward Mike because William and his rants. And, Liz blames Mike for Evan being in a coma. She wouldn’t have lost both of her brothers like that if Mike wasn’t so stupid (it totally doesn’t have anything to do with Liz finding it easier to blame Mike than to blame herself for wishing them gone so much, it wasn’t her fault, it WASN’T, of course not)

Liz sort of wobbles back and forth between demanding (not asking) affection from Mike to make up for the time he was gone and pushing him away for what he did. Maybe it’s not until the “i think we’re both broken” conversation in BCOH that Liz fully forgives him, because she can finally admit to herself that she’s as broken as he is and has done stuff as awful as Mike himself has done, too. Before then, she tried shrugging the blame off on Mike a lot. 

Mike lashes out sometimes when the stress, guilt, and abuse get to be too much, but only when he completely loses control; when he has an ounce of self-control left in him, he’s too scared of hurting Elizabeth like he did Evan for that, and too certain that he deserves everything that’s happening to him. Mike doesn’t fight when Liz and William say awful things about him. He  said “I didn’t mean for that to happen” so many times during the month he was gone, when people were poking and prodding at him trying to figure out what happened at Evan’s party and if it’s safe for Mike to be around other kids, that the words have lost all meaning– and Mike has already learned from that month that it doesn’t matter how many times he says it, because no one will believe him. 

Despite how William is, I don’t think William would be physically violent with Mike when Mike gets returned. Not at first, at least. Because the thing is, as annoyed as William is with Mike for tarnishing the family name by forever associating the name “afton” with “tragedy of the Bite of ‘83” and by making it seem like William can’t take care of (re: control) his own kids, that’s not what REALLY makes William angry. What really makes him angry is that Mike showed signs that he was just like William (an angry killer), and yet, William can’t experiment on his son to see if it’s true/make Mike more like him because the authorities took away his property. When Mike is given back, William goes into overdrive with his experimenting and observations, trying to make up for lost time. What these experiments are, I dunno; let me know if you guys have any ideas. But as the experiments go on, William realizes that Mike isn’t all that like him; Mike killed (almost), but he didn’t enjoy it. It’s not until a month or two later when William can no longer deny that Mike didn’t enjoy it that he starts getting really bad with Mike, because “His youngest getting so severely hurt had been bad enough. At least if Michael had begun showing signs since then that he was similar to his father in more than just appearance, the incident would have meant something– would have given some kind of result. As it was, William had merely gotten from it one damaged son and an unending stream of problems” (Collection, ch 6). 

I’ve also been thinking about it, and like.., wouldn’t it be awful if during the time Ev was in a coma, William actually wanted to pull the plug on Evan’s life support, but the only thing that kept him from doing so was his own pride? If once the novelty of his genuine concern over Evan faded, he didn’t really care whether Evan lived or died anymore, and the only thing keeping him from pulling the plug was his fierce determination that he does NOT want the death of a child to permanently tarnish his life work (the PUBLIC death of a child, at least)? 

I can see it working two ways: 1) William sees Evan as “damaged” goods and genuinely doesn’t care whether he lives or dies, maybe even would prefer it if Evan died bc his son being dead is better than Evan being braindead or even waking up and being just as cognitively impaired as the doctors warn him Evan will be if he ever wakes, or. 2) William still sees Evan as “damaged goods,” which is why it unnerves him that he still seems to care whether his son survives; William doesn’t like how unpredictable and nonsensical this feeling (caring for Evan) is, doesn’t like how weak it makes him feel, so he wants to get rid of Evan (and his confusing feelings) entirely by pulling the plug. Either way, once Evan finally wakes up and starts getting better, William’s attachment/feelings/concern fades away once Evan isn’t in the danger zone anymore and William is certain he’s going to survive now. 

 Honestly, Evan is lucky that it was a Fredbear location where Mike hurt him so badly, because if William’s company wasn’t on the line, William probably would have pulled the plug. I wonder if Liz, Mike, and the Fazbears ever find out that William genuinely considered it…

As for the Fazbears, there is just. So much therapy. Ness and Greg and Freddy canonically regularly attend therapy in the au, and the three of them get sooo much more therapy post-Bite to help them all cope. My thoughts on their reactions are less developed, though. Gregory’s grades slip. Ness and Greg both start lashing out more to deal with stress (tho they ofc, like. Actually apologize and work through their feelings afterward, unlike Mike). Freddy tries not to let it get the best of him, but… he’s angry, too. 

#also post-bite mike completely stops seeing his friends #i don't really have characterizations for mike's friends #but one of them (freddy mask) is more. like. touchy feely and sensitive than the others. #freddy mask tries to approach mike at school one day and mike snaps bc he's made it pretty clear that he doesn't want to be around them #he punches or shoves freddy mask; nothing too violent but just violent enough that freddy mask and mike both walk #away from the experience scared of mike (in mike's case of himself) #i don't know what the other masked kids would do. if they want to ban together as the whole school (or town) #turns on them and calls them murderers or if seeing each other is Too Much and the friend group disbands. #maybe one or two of them moves away entirely. #(jeremy isn't one of my masked bullies btw. just to like. avoid the implication of any shipping plz and thank you) #my brother my wound #a nest torn empty #fnaf au #tw child abuse #tw child death #i can already hear crumble yelling at me for not developing mike's trauma in this more. i'm SORRY okay lmao

[wisehearts]

omega!will + alpha!mike thoughts??

<3

owowowoo okay first of all I'm not fantastic with this au because I actually never touched it in fandoms until byler? Idk what it is about them that did it for me but from the things I have embraced about it, and figured out I like, some thoughts for you:

scenting!!!!! I think they love just nuzzling each other, spending quiet times just brushing over the sensitive glands... but o!will just loves the smell of mike in general he will burrow himself all up and around mike's body

o!will should not get so wet when a!mike holds eye contact while scenting clothes for him, but he does, and mike loves inhaling the air between them and realizing it's happened

o!will is a size queen I don't make the rules. he's fucking drunk for his alpha not just because of the size of his heart but because of the size of his knot 😌🫶

on that note o!will hates when mike's away and his heat comes early because toys just aren't satisfying and he's inconsolable, a!mike literally can't handle being away for it and everybody makes way for him to get back to his omega and make it all better

a!mike's instincts *bites hand* I just love the thought of him being different and a sweetheart gentleman of an alpha, more romantic, but ultimately unable to control how primal he gets during his rut, lucky for him will gets delirious with pleasure about it

Idk I just love the thought mike had to hold back when he first presented because he was just overwhelmed by will's scent, because he's meant to prioritize will but oh right now he can't help it (he could be a bee to a blossom, come home.....)

likewise a!mike has always loved will's cheeky nature, how he challenges mike, but the way will becomes so needy and so irresistible as an omega is addicting to mike, he falls in love with yet another side of will. now when his best friend rolls his eyes and gets snarky he gets bred about it

o!will can get so slick (during what I assume is like pre heat? or actual heat? Is that how it might work?) and I'm thinking it's more like a biological thing he could get shy about, but mike loves it. the fact he can stick his fingers between will's thighs when he's wearing shorts or briefs and have something to taste

like I said in my post the other day o!will can get railed within an inch of his life and a!mike will still lay his head on his marked up, overstimulated omega's chest and melt over his hair being stroked and feeling praised for making will fall apart so good

all wills are sleepy angels, so I think o!will would love his nesting times and makes the most comfortable nests. I just can't decide between everybody happily giving will what he requests, and him feeling so safe with the scents of his loved ones OR a!mike literally scenting the entire nest as soon as he gets on it because he's will's alpha, he doesn't want to smell anybody else here, and will feels so happy and calm being surrounded by mike in every way (maybe he even did it on purpose just to see mike get possessive)

a!mike gets surprisingly emotional the first time o!will asks if they can mate in his nest, it's so personal and mike feels so at home. and he should feel bad thinking that because this is will's space. but mike is a ball of eager yesyesyesyes just wanting to make everything perfect for will because his omega makes everything perfect for him

This post wouldn't be complete without mike having a breeding kink. and what mike better to have one than alpha mike? he wants to knot and breed and knock up that omega... he's usually good at keeping his possessiveness in check but the thought of will having a swollen tummy to remind other alphas he's mike's? he wants it.

if it's a/b/o with pregnancy ooh man... o!will is the most glowing gorgeous thing in the world. he's so happy to be full and bred. a!mike is intensely more protective and doting, he's actually the best partner an omega could ask for. he also will not stop sucking o!will's full tits 🫶🫶🫶

Okay so I apparently did have thoughts

#asks 🔮 #spicy byler #omegaverse au

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

valentines day

summary: valentine’s day. the day of chocolate hearts, flowers, budding romance, and heartbreak.

WC: 1.7K

warnings: this is clean

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

this is version2 of what i original started with but my break caused me to change it. so maybe in the future my version1 of certain stories might be posted, we’ll see obviously.

THANK YOU FOR 300 FOLLOWERS💗💗💗

series masterlist

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February 14, 1985

The house was quiet, the only noise heard through the structure was the mild volume of the TV. Movies and shows playing their romantic scenes, couples going on dates, a guy running through the rain to get the girl before it’s too late or many other romance gestures Hollywood could think of.

No one was in the house, well except for two people, those two people lounging on the couch just staring at the small screen and it was only two-thirty in the afternoon. Jonathan went out earlier since he planned a who day with Nancy, and said something about going to the next town over for dinner or something. Joyce had to work, as usual, she was basically the only employee at Melvard’s, so you wouldn’t see her until later that day. So it was only you and Will.

Steve called earlier and said he’s being held hostage, metaphorically, but also literally. His parents were in town for a few days and he mentioned something about lunch and his father’s work, so you know he wishes to stab himself to leave that situation. So you wouldn’t see your adoring boyfriend until tonight, dinner plans he step up, not Enzo’s he added.

You asked Will what his plans were when you saw he made himself comfy on the worn brown couch, just lounging in his pj's.

“Mike said he’s hanging with El today, followed by Lucas remembering to make plans with Max, so that’s two couples I don’t want to third wheel today.”

“What about Dustin? He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

His attention moved from the screen to a loose thread he started picking at, “said he was working on a science project or something, and also that he was going with his mom for bingo at her friends.”

You twisted your torso to lean into the cushions, left leg angled on the seat while you face Will, head tilted at his pouting face. You poked a finger into his right thigh for his attention.

“Why don’t we do something? Like we used to do.” It used to be homemade valentine’s day cards with baking brownies or cookies and the final piece, going on a walk down the block and venting to each other.

“Is it only ‘cause Steve can’t come until tonight?” His comment was low, but you heard the sadness in the whispers.

You scooted closer to his, your leg to his thigh, your hands grabbing at his to stop any fidgeting, “Will, you know I love hanging out with you. Just ‘cause I have a boyfriend now doesn’t mean that changes.” With one hand you placed it upon his left cheek and turned his head to completely face you, “you’re my number one guy, always will be. Partners come and go, but my family will come first no matter what.”

You saw his eyes dip away, “hey,” you cooed softly to him, “Will, is something wrong?”

He didn’t even say anything and you knew there was something eating at him, but he was holding back. The only sign was the wetness growing along his lash line, and the tiny bite to his bottom lip.

“Hey, hey, hey.” You moved off the sofa to crouch at his knees, “Will, please, please, tell me if there’s something I can do to help. Or tell me what’s wrong, please, I don’t like seeing you like this.” Your own eyes tearing up and your throat straining.

The tears started to slip from his eyes and down his cheeks, matching stains on both your faces. He still didn’t say anything, only sniffling to stop the snot from dripping. Your fingers drummed along his knees, the physical sign of your nerves.

“Will…”

“I…I like someone…” his voice cracked on the last word, like the thought of them broke his heart.

You released a small sigh, relieved it wasn’t about something horrible, just a middle school crush. Your actions showed your thoughts as you dropped your forehead to rest on your knuckles that still sat on Will’s knees.

“Will…you scared me-” Your light chuckles stopped when you felt his body shaking and looked up to see his face pinched in hurt.

“Will… everything… it’s only a middle school crush.” You tried to comfort him. “You- you don’t… you don’t get it (Y/n).” His stuttered cries cracked your heart.

“Then tell me, explain to me. I was a kid in middle school not too long ago with a crush, I know the pain. I even had elementary crushes, and those hurt me.” A quick flash of middle school you staring longingly at middle school Steve, a kiss shared between you and another girl in your room.

You moved from the floor back to the couch, closer to Will and pulling him in by the shoulders, his head resting on your collarbone. One hand going to tangle in his dark brown strands while the other rubs up and down along his spine to soothe his hiccuped crying.

“Okay, okay. You don’t need to tell me anything right now, but know that you can tell me when you’re ready. I understand the pain of crushes, some of them you can’t have.” His hands clutched at your shirt.

No words were spoken for the next five minutes. Only the sounds of the TV as white noise, Will’s sniffling, quieting, and trailing off as the seconds ticked by. Your hand moved in slow and soothing circles over his shoulder blades while your other hand held the back of his head.

“Do you want some water?” Those were the first words out of your mouth.

Will nodded in acceptance of the offer. You both detangled from each other, limbs sore and bones cracking at the sudden movement. Your footsteps thudded against the hardwood that led into the cool tile of the kitchen. You stood on the tips of your toes and reached for a clean mug before placing it under the faucet. Just as the cup was full and you turned around, the landline blasted its high pitch ringing. A bit of water splashed to the floor due to your jumping at the blaring noise. You exhaled a sigh, placed the mug on the table, and trekked to the ringing phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, beautiful.” His honey-laced voice greeted you.

A smile tugged at your lips, “Hi, Stevie. How are you doing?”

He huffed at the question which caused a giggle to slip from you, “I wanted to stab my ears so I could block out my dad’s annoying voice and comments. But I’m free now, so can I escape my jail and hide out at your place until dinner tonight?”

You twirled the thick cord ‘round a finger, “as much as I would like to see you, Will kinda needs me right now.” You kept your voice low, and you peeked into the living area to look at Will.

“Is everything okay?” Your heart skipped a tiny beat hearing the worry in Steve’s voice at the mention of Will.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing horrible, just something personal. But I’ll- I’ll call you back when you can come over, or maybe you can come over in like…in like two hours. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll bring some extra stuff to stay over.”

“Perfect. I wasn’t planning on having you leave at the end of the night anyway, Harrington.” The last name holds an implication in the tone.

“Oh really, Byers. And why is that?” 

“Well-” “Please, god, stop!”

Will was fully facing you from the couch and his face was morphed into a disgusted scowl. You chuckled at his annoyance but knew you should hurry up anyway to get back to him.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, don’t have too much fun without me.”

“That won’t be a problem.” And you hung up.

Will watched you as you came back to the couch, polka-dotted mug in hand.

“So…you wanna- wanna talk about it? Your crush.” Your fingers drummed against the ceramic.

Will took the mug from your grasp and chugged half the fluid before setting it on the table. You weren’t gonna rush him, knowing if you pushed someone in the Byers family to open up, most likely they’ll close themselves off.

So you waited and watched as he picked at the skin around his nails. Saw how his top teeth dug into his bottom lip harshly, blood likely to draw if he went any harder. And just when you were beginning to think he had changed his mind, his voice hiccuped.

“I…I like someone…that someone being...” he started picking harder at his skin, “it’s a- it’s a b-boy…” he trailed off, you almost didn’t hear him with the TV still on.

“Oh. Oh.”

Now you understand his pain and hesitation to tell you. But also you’re just a bit hurt to think he was scared to tell you, you understand where he’s coming from.

“Will, I understand that feeling you’re having. Where your brain is telling you it’s wrong to feel these things for someone of the same sex, but your heart is doing somersaults at just the tiny thought of them, getting to hold their hair, watching them smile at a stupid joke you made, or just looking at you like you’re the only person in the world to them. And- and I know people say it’s wrong an- and immoral or some bullshit that they use religion as an excuse, but there is nothing wrong or disgusting or immoral about loving someone.” 

The silence, along with the tones of dialogue in the background filled the space. Your mouth got a bit dry at the end of your speech, need to make sure you got your point across in one go so Will could speak up at any time. You wanted him to ask questions, get those horrible thoughts out of his head and replace them with a new perspective.

“Do you… do you wish you could be normal? Not have these thoughts? I- I know what you went through…when dad was here.” He was looking at you through his lashes.

“Sometimes,” you sighed, remembering laying awake after getting hit by your dad, “but I would never change that about myself. And you should never think about changing yourself just to fit into the norm.”

You held a hand out, palm up with inviting fingers. It took a second, but Will got the message and linked hands with you. He didn’t say anything further, and you didn’t poke for more information. The two of you just sat in the quiet, knowing that the two of you shared something no one else in the family would understand, your bond growing just a bit more that day with each other.

-----------------------------

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#The Byers Harrington Story #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things series #stranger things self insert

[dual-fantasy]

So much. Yes. the babyfication of mike(& the rest of the system to an extent) cause hes nervous sometimes and mentally ill makes me so mad. hes a bit of a dick and its okay. let him be a dick. he deserves it. let him be awful and gritty. scike ultimately would fail because of how much they just dont love each other. they end it on awful terms. anytime they're near each other they end up getting in a fistfight. mike kicks his ass every time. he'd have to be physically dragged off scott if anyone cared enough to stop him. jo cheers him on. people only get in the way of it when they realize scott might actually Die and even then its just a suggestion. Also, bit of an unpopular opinion in the fandom but I don't like zoke. I think they'd be friends after the show but they wouldn't date. mike grew a backbone after the show as well. he got cooler i reckon. its the mental illness though he stopped going to therapy after roti(also. i want to talk about how people completely forget that he actively sees a psychiatrist?? he is fucked in the head stop ignoring it) and somewhere through dating scott he just Stops Giving A Shit. he contracted scotts shark rabies or whatever and it made him evil. but its okay cause its mike. let him be evil. he deserves it. let him be mean to people. scike are absolutely awful for each other. their ''relationship'' is messy at most. nobody knows how they started dating it just happened one day. they yell at each other in the furniture displays at big stores and make everyone uncomfortable. they cant hang out together around anyone else cause 30 minutes in they get mad at each other and ruin the mood. actually the fandom interpretation of mike pisses me off so much. he is not a dainty little twink he has abs. that isnt just vitos italian superstrength(funniest fucking thing to me) or whatever hes strong as hell. let him beat someone up. let him be mean. he pushed scott into shark infested waters. he was a stupid boy in love with a pretty girl but hes also a dick. it means so much to me. hes an awful person sometimes and he absolutely deserves to be. half of the total drama fandom can not comprehend a mentally ill guy having complexities that make him a kind of bad person. hes a dog motif in a guard dog way. his bites worse then his bark. i do not frown on him being horrible i think he should be like that more. make mike mean twenty twenty four. td fandoms displayed him in such a horrific way i have to level the scales by making him the horrible person he deserves to be. not even in an angsty way he isn't sad and miserable. he should just be allowed to fuck scott up a lot. let him break some noses. I saw a post about brick and mike(no idea what the ship name is. bike ????) and i think they should be allowed to kiss just a little bit. brick frowns on him getting in fights but he isn't gonna stop it. scott deserves to get beaten up a little. mikes stupid and in love with brick though. tying into the guard dog motif. he comes home soaked in blood(probably scotts. none of its his own) and makes brick dinner cause hes actually the best boyfriend ever. just not to scott. theres no scike happy ending they dont become friends or learn to tolerate each other theyre forever bitter and hateful Grave Dog. i wrote this all in one sitting in 2 minutes i hope its somewhat comprehensible

YOU'RE SO REAL the fanon interpretation of mike actually drives me mad. like fucking insane. I hate it. I think the issue is that people don't want actual mental health representation they want the perks that come with being able to say he's mentally ill without actually having to see what mental illness is. they would rather die than realise nuances in his character. and your right the system has also had this happen but to a lesser extent. I like the fanon system more but only in the way that it's actually researched. in every other way it sucks. Ive seen it happen a lot with svetlana too. Its the obsession with easy troupes and simple characters that are easier to portray. they want characters to be more palletable so they erase their real character for the simplicity. it's bad

I think scike is literally never going to work out. it's always bad and it never improves and they're so terrible. they would never say they'll love eachother but they'll spend every waking moment imagining ways to destroy eachother. it's so bad and so good. mike is actually fucking killing Scott at one point. like his face is three hits from caving in. the only person to bother with helping him is brick because of "moral codes" or something. Cameron also wanted to help but he would get killed like. immediately. not even intentionally he would just get hit and crumple and die. everyone else is cheering them on tho. Anne Maria and B made a betting pool. lightning and dawn are announcing everything that happens like sports commentators.

I do not like zoke either because I don't like the way that Zoey was handled in canon. I think they should've made her weirder. she cannot be the "weird small town loser" if her only weird personality trait is a flower in her hair. she shouldve collected bones and made them into jewellery. they're friends but I can't see them dating. he stops caring after the show (and the reset button doesn't work!! it does not fucking work!! the system is still there!!) and decides to just be terrible. making up for the fanon bullshit my making him worse you're right.

and the Italian superstrength is easily one of the funniest explanations I've ever seen. in anything. Vito doesn't have fucking superpowers y'all mike is strong. he canonically does kickboxing!!! and is very passionate it!!! the show makes a point out of it!!! and also he can do everything that Svetlana can. even if he doesn't have the form or the practice in order to actually do it he could still theoretically do it. because Svetlana can only do what their body allows. mike is fucking jacked and incredibly strong he's just skinny. his ass is NOT a twink you all just hate nuances! he needs to beat up people. he needs to be worse. he needs to be terrible and horrible and cruel

and the guard dog motif is soooo good. weapon that's only used in necessity. bites not for enjoyment but for protection. able to fight but has the morality to restrain himself. he should be allowed to go crazy though. pleaseeee pretty please can he go crazy and silly and insane and violent. you're so real about brick and Mike I think they would be cute.

also DW I write all my posts in 2 minutes too that's why they're all incomprehensible

#babygirlification of mike is going to drive me insane #total drama #td #td roti #td revenge of the island #revenge of the island #td mike #scike #td scike #🪦🐕 #long post

[doloresdraws]

| time-lapse of the painting on my youtube |

❤ I wrote these for Twitter, but decided to post them here as well ❤

Werner Adler, Nosferatu residing in San Francisco, Embraced in 1970 in his mid 30s.

1. Werner is pretty chill most of the time, more than angry he gets frustrated from not being satisfied with his writing or when he says something that makes complete sense, yet the other person still fails to acknowledge it, especially when it is about something important.

2. I think he never believed in soulmates, until he met Leslie. Now when she is gone, a part of him is gone too.

3. His pet peeves: When people call themselves stupid or speak about themselves in a degrading way, especially women and children. Also when he sees grammar mistakes like they're/their, etc.

4. Unfortunately, what used to be his happy place now brings him a lot of pain, so he rarely allows his thoughts to venture there. When Leslie was still alive and he thought she was living a happy, fulfilled life somewhere, he often thought about their life together.

5. He has suffered from depression since his teens, but his happiest time was when Leslie said yes to his clumsy proposal, they got married and were planning their future together. Despite his coming and going depression and some bad days, she made him very happy.

6. His least happy time: Finding out that Leslie was dead, running to the hospital morgue and seeing and holding her lifeless body in his arms.

7. I think he is neither. He would sit at the bar minding his own business.

8. As a mortal, he never had any serious physical injuries (mainly because he was at home most of the time) As a vampire he got his wrist broken by the Gangrel who had found him after the Embrace, Werner didn't understand anything and wanted to just run away.

9. He doesn't really remember his Embrace as he was passed out sleeping, so the Embrace itself isn't a traumatic experience for him. There is a lot he would rather forget during his Kindred existence, but nothing tops his desperate attempt of Embracing Leslie's dead body.

10. His childhood wasn't exactly filled with many good memories. His parents argued a lot and it ended up in divorce that left him living with his quite overprotective mother. His fav memory would probably be time he spent hanging out with his best friend, a neighbor kid Mike.

11. Honestly, no, he doesn't have a type. He was seriously in love only with Leslie. They had a connection right away as she as an artist understood his need to be sometimes left alone with his writing and at the same time possessed quite a different, more positive outlook in life.

12. A pen that he bought from his first salary. Lucky for him, he was able to keep it even after his Embrace. Also his and Leslie's wedding rings and her journal that he stole after sneaking into her husband's hotel room and going through her things.

13. +14. No tattoos or piercings, even if he wasn't a Kindred/Nosferatu he wouldn't even consider it. He is quite old school, he doesn't really like them.

15. He had his dream house already. Not long before he got Embraced, he and Leslie had bought a house in a small town in Maine. It wasn't much, but they had so many plans for the garden and for the kid's rooms.

16. I think others, especially Kindred of other clans wouldn't probably expect him to be so well-mannered, gentle and well-spoken considering his dishevelled, unclean looks. He just sees no point in showering or caring for his look when he isn't really socializing with anyone anyway.

17. He is very thoughtful when it comes to gifts. He is that kind of person that would give you a present out of the blue, just because he would see something that he thinks you would enjoy.

18. He has a love-hate relationship with his writing. Some days he thinks he is really good at capturing the right mood with his words, other days he is questioning his writing skills and if he should even continue. He isn't proud of anything that he does, unfortunately.

19. A stranger would probably describe him as a sad man who desperately needs a bath and new clothes.

20. A close friend (Kayley) would describe him as kind & caring, but broken man who is trying his best and tries to do the right things.

21. He actually isn't concerned about his looks at all, he didn't care much about his looks even when he looked normal. His biggest insecurity is fear that somehow deep inside he is a bad person and that he somehow deserves what happened.

22. Physical: dexterity, non-physical: Intelligence.

23. If he knew that the lie was for his own good, he would actually appreciate the thought. If it was a lie to spare him from fear (I am looking at you Kayley) he would get upset at the sheer irresponsibility and the harm that could have happened and you would be in for a lecture.

24. He doesn't care much for the weather when he's spending most of his nights alone in his sewer haven, but he finds rainy nights inspiring and accurate to his own feelings of despair. He sometimes goes to the cemetery when it pours, stands in the rain and allows himself to cry.

25. He has no problems saying I love you to the people that he cares about when it feels right and appropriate to the situation. Though he usually never says it first, but more as a response :)

26. He doesn't like to talk about his worries - like when he was a mortal he really didn't like to talk about his fear of not having enough skill to make it as a writer, as he felt like he was failing Leslie to not make enough money for them to be able to raise a family.

27. He murdered a man that was a threat to Kayley and Jane. He really thought that there wasn't another way, but he sent the children away while he did it, so they didn't have to see. He was on the verge of frenzy and part of him could justify the murder as the man was a scumbag.

28. He isn't ticklish, but he would probably try to stop you tickling him anyway.

29. As a mortal, he had pretty low pain tolerance, but as a Nosferatu and after Leslie's death he realized that any amount of physical pain was nothing compared to the crippling pain and guilt that he feels inside everytime his mind slips and he thinks about what happened.

30. He wishes he had the courage to walk up to Kyle (Leslie's then husband) and tell him that he was sorry, that he was weak, selfish and negligent and that it was his fault that Kyle lost his wife and his unborn child. But of course, he never did it, and now Kyle is an old man.

31. Messy: feeding is a very stressful ordeal for him, he only feeds on the homeless men from his herd and he gives them money for it. It's always a terrible time for him, it takes him a while to actually bite down and then he wants to be done with it as soon as possible.

32. When 14 yo Kayley made him bite her after she found out the truth about what he was and she wanted a proof that it didn’t hurt when he fed on people, despite him reassuring her it didn’t. He was deeply hurt by this request, but he forgave her, he realized she was just a curious child, she didn't know how much pain this was causing him.

33. When Leslie found him and despite seeing how he changed, she still told him she loved him and was willing to stay with him. And maybe even more when they had met a few years later and despite the time, he could still see love for him in her eyes like nothing had changed…

34. Hard choice between vision & touch. Both would hinder his ability to write and that is that is the only thing that keeps him somehow sane. Well, together with caring for Kayley, but as she is growing older it is better she sees less of him and has a normal life.

35. He can hold on small talks pretty well,it's actually the only kind of talk he is willing to have with other Kindred after Leslie's death. Mirabelle especially noticed the change in his behavior, but she understands that they weren't really friends and she has no right to pry.

36. He would ask Leslie if she can forgive him for what happened to her and her unborn child. But the truth also is that he is absolutely terrified at the idea as he fears that the truth is that wherever she is, she hates him.

37. The past-so he would have never traveled to San Francisco, or at least he would have traveled to the night when Leslie came to him and this time he would be stronger and pushed her away, not letting her touch him... The future is pointless, there is nothing left there for him.

38. Positive - Leslie made him feel understood, Kayley - gave him some will to live back, Jane - made him feel like he made a difference in her life by persuading her to own her mistakes.

Negative - His Sire who made him question why he deserved this fate for his kindness.

39. He was used to live alone, then he met Leslie and then he was alone again. He was always a solitary person, so the solitude and isolation actually didn't even bother him after the Embrace.

40. The worst had already happened to him, so for a time there wasn't really anything that would make him terrified. But then he met Kayley and of course he fears for her safety as he feels responsible for her. He's afraid that her compassion will one day cost her her life.

Werner © me/doloresdraws

#OC Werner #clan nosferatu #vampire the requiem #vampire the masquerade #World Of Darkness #my art #doloresdrawsocs #digital painting #vtr #VTM #nossies #vamily #nWod #chronicles of darkness #ocs #digital portrait #clip paint studio #digital paintings

[ghostnebula]

I have now been thinking about this for over 24 straight hours so here’s some fun:

The Losers’ Club’s many and varied allergies.

1. Eddie has zero fucking allergies. The man is invincible. Food allergies? Fuck no. Pollen? Get the fuck out of here. Dust/grass/pet dander/anything else? Weak. In a perfectly ironic turn of events he is literally allergic to absolutely nothing.

2. Richie is an idiot with at least 12 random food allergies he’s managed to ignore for most of his life, but most prominently, peanuts. He does not know he is allergic to peanuts for probably 15 years, until one day Mike is eating his signature peanut butter and onion sandwich and Richie, dead serious, asks, “Don’t you hate that? Don’t you hate how that feels?” and some of the other Losers are like, “....feels? Don’t you mean tastes?” and anyway he may be book smart, but...

3. It’s actually during the fallout of point 2 (see above) that Bill discovers he also, perhaps, has some food allergies. He thought it was, like, normal for your mouth to go all tingly when you eat strawberries. Is that not normal? What do you mean the little seeds don’t like cut up the inside of your mouth and make it go all numb?

(Eddie is this close to a full-on conniption -- how are his friends this oblivious?)

4. Mike is minorly allergic to eggs and that’s just fine by him because he’s a vegan. However, he’s got a sort-of allergy to mosquito bites: his bites swell up worse than anyone else’s, so Eddie, resident mom friend, will douse him head to toe in the absolute best bug repellent available, and also carry an AfterBite stick in his pocket/fanny pack just to be safe (he’s always got allergy meds on hand, anyway; the AfterBite is just an extra precaution).

5. Stan is also allergic to eggs but it is not minor. He will be hospitalized. Do not feed him eggs. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. 

6. Bev has seasonal allergies but bad. Some other Losers have seasonal allergies, too, but not like this. She chugs allergy meds like water and at any point during a particularly bad day can be found zonked out on a sofa somewhere in the Losers’ House with 3000 used tissues piled around her. She’ll come stumbling down the stairs, completely zombified, at ten in the morning, after several Losers have already left for work, eyes puffed up so bad she can barely see, and croak, “Who the fuck left the window at the end of the hall open last night? I just wanna talk.” She’s also lactose intolerant, which we’ll count as an allergy for the purposes of this post, but she isn’t going to let that stop her from eating ice cream straight out of the bucket and chugging cow’s milk, because fuck you.

7. Ben has a citrus allergy but he somehow manages not to learn about it until his early 20s, when the Losers are all out for dinner and they all get lemon slices with their drinks. Richie dares them all to eat the lemon without making a face and he’ll give the winner ten bucks. Ben’s face swells up immediately and Eddie jumps straight into fucking paramedic mode. He probably has an EpiPen handy anyway because of Richie’s allergies (Eddie carries the EpiPens now because Richie managed to lose the last 3 and how the fuck do you just LOSE an EpiPen, Richie? Do you have any idea how expensive they are?)

n e ways feel free to add anything else you feel should be included

#the losers club #it #text #it 2017 #it 2019 #they're all dumbasses #just a bunch of dumbasses loving each other and living their dumbass lives together

[asteriismos]

Tear You Apart -- Bill Denbrough

Authors Note : wooo this was a whirlwind to write. self quarantine is slowly starting to eat me alive, but I hope everyone is doing good! stay healthy and wash hands! also, if anyone wants to be on the tagging list, just shoot me a message or an ask! I also changed around the request slightly but it’s pretty much the same thing. Requests are still open.

Warning(s) : smut ( obviously ), seventeen! bill denbrough, choking, this is kinda just filth but what’s new, im going to hell

Request : 

Loved your last bill smut you posted! Can you do one where the losers all have a sleepover and Bill has to share an air mattress with the reader and they end up having really hot sex while trying not to wake up the losers yet fail bc the reader is loud asf and maybe the reader has a choking kink and tells him while they’re making out to choke her harder. and the next day they have marks all over? (Sorry my thirst for Bill is unreal rn 😂). Ok so I also wanted to add to my bill x reader smut where he tries to push the reader to her limit and see how many times she can cum and it gets to the point where she’s screaming and crying at the same time bc oof 🥵 that’s hot (again I apologize for my horny ass I just wanted to add a little to my request)

When Richie Tozier gave the suggestion that the friend group should have a sleepover over Labor Day weekend, you were one of the first to scream yes. It was the beginnings of your senior year and you weren't going to waste a second of it, you wanted to spend every second you could with your friends and boyfriend, Bill.

The only problem was that it took a while to find the house you all should sleepover at. Though Richie had the idea, he said that his parents were planning something Saturday night, which meant a no from his end. Eddie’s mother wouldn't allow anyone over because of germs, and Bev’s aunt was not about to have eight teenagers in their apartment. 

Luckily, Bill’s parents were out of town for the weekend because of the holiday, so you all finally could take the plan for action.

The rest of the day was dedicated to getting supplies for said sleepover. You and Bill went to the dollar store on the corner for snacks, Mike and Stan went to get as many blankets as they could, Eddie and Richie got movies, and Ben and Beverly set up the spare air mattresses in the large living room.

Once all of you got back, the party finally began.

“We have to watch Jurassic Park. It just came out on to VHS tapes,” Richie begged to the group. “And it’s so good, you gotta admit.”

“Richie, no, come -” Eddie’s rejection sentence got cut off by Richie already putting in the tape. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, obviously. “Fine, whatever.”

All of you laughed at the two bickering and settled in for the movie. You were sharing an air mattress with Bill, the giant bowl of popcorn sharing both of your laps. You two were all snuggled and cozy under two blankets. As the movie got started, you felt his left hand land on your thigh. It wasn’t unlike him to put his hand there, considering you two weren’t prudes to types of PDA, but for some reason it felt different this time. It felt like there was a motive behind it. 

You looked at your boyfriend, and even in the dim lighting of his living room you could see a smirk on his face. 

Well, you thought to yourself, two can play at this game.

Your own hand came down under the covers and laid on his thigh, giving it a good squeeze. Bill tensed up under your touch, breathing in a very big amount of air as he kept his eyes on the movie. He wasn’t going to give up without a fight, that was sure.

A good ten minutes passed with no other touches from Bill, maybe he had stopped for the night in fear that your friends would start to notice the strange behavior between the two of you. You two weren’t all that good at being subtle, to be honest.

However, your previous thoughts seemed to be wiped away when you felt his hand go to your waistband of your sweatpants. Your legs tensed up for a moment and your stomach churned, looking around at your friends to see if they noticed. They hadn't, all of them were focused on the movie, since it was getting to the good part. That was a good thing, considering if any of them found out about this ( particularly Richie ) you two would not hear the end of it. 

His hand slipped under the waistband and stilled for a moment, almost as if he was asking permission. You grabbed it and squeezed it, signaling that you were okay with it. And with that, he proceeded up go under your underwear lining. You breathed in sharply, causing Ben to look your way.

“Popcorn kernel,” you whispered his way. He nodded and turned his attention to the movie once again. From the corner of your eye you could see Bill laugh a little bit. Glad to see he was enjoying this. You tried to keep your face from reacting when his middle finger entered you. 

But it felt really fucking good.

He stayed with one finger for a while, pushing in and out slowly, with rhythm. You turned to look at him and awkwardly held up a peace sign, signaling that you wanted another finger. Bill happily obliged, slipping another finger into you. That was enough to start changing the pace of your breathing, your focus at the bowl of popcorn on your legs. The movie was playing in the background but you couldn’t even think about it. Instead, you were thinking about the earliest you could fuck the shit out of Bill.

Which was now. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to feel him inside of you, all of him. The want and desire was enough for you to quickly grab his hand, stand up and say, “We’re going to go make some more popcorn.” The Losers nodded, their eyes still fixated on the film. You pulled Bill by the hand into his family’s kitchen, not wasting a second of the limited time you two had before one of them would get suspicious.

His lips caught yours first, his body pushing you up to the top of the island counter. You obliged, scooting so that your butt was seated on the edge of the island, your legs wrapping around his torso. There wasn't an open space between you two as you kissed, the air in the room got hotter and hotter. It was the thrill of you two doing this in his kitchen, but also the thrill that someone would come in and witness the very unholy thing that was going down.

Bill pulled away from your lips, his kisses instead going on your cheek and along your jaw. They got up to your ear and he whispered, “I want to see how many times you can cum.” It sent shivers down your spine. You two probably only had about ten minutes or so before someone got suspicious and would investigate. The thought made a pool begin in your panties.

His hand went back to where it had previously been prior to the kitchen, two fingers reentering you. You moaned into his shoulder, the soft cotton proving to be quite helpful in muffling your moans. But that didn’t seem to be enough for Bill, he was not looking to be caught early. So his hand came up to your throat, squeezing a little bit. Instead of pain, you felt pleasure. Bill had complete control over you and you loved every second of it.

The first orgasm came soon after that, your moans being stifled by his hand and his shirt. You thought that he would stop so he could have some action of his own, but he didn't. Instead his fingers kept going in and out at an even faster rate. It felt good to ride out your high, but now you were so sensitive to his touch.

“Bill, I’m still pretty sensitive,” you choked out against his shoulder. He just nodded his head and kept going. The dominance he was showing was unlike everything before, and you hated to admit that it was turning you on so much.

His lips attached themselves to your neck, his teeth almost expertly biting in just the right spots to get you closer and closer. You counted all the spots that he reached, but lost count in your second orgasm after seven. You’d have to do a lot of damage control with makeup the next day.

Both of Bill’s hands left your body, and for a moment you thought that he was leaving. You opened your eyes and reached out to him, putting your hands on his shoulders. He wasn’t leaving, he was just taking off his belt and unzipping his pants, quickly getting himself out of his boxers.

It didn’t take long for him to enter you, his pace slow as you adjusted to his length. Despite your past two orgasms, you still felt yourself moaning in pleasure from his actions. His hand went back to your neck, repeating the same squeezing motion every time he would thrust into you. You looked past his shoulder at the clock on the wall, seeing that about eight minutes had passed. You were praying that your friends didn’t find you in this position. 

“Bill,” you breathed out quietly, feeling the same fire in your stomach grow with each thrust. “I think I’m going to-” Your words were cut off by your third orgasm, hitting you like a tidal wave. He kept thrusting into you faster and faster, then finally reached his own peak, his thrusts becoming sloppier as you both rode it down. 

He kissed your forehead, pulling out of you and getting a rag to clean up the mess you two had made. Once you two were moderately clean enough, he redressed and helped you off of the kitchen counter. You semi felt bad, considering you have helped Mrs. Denbrough prepare dinner on this counter many times before and done homework with Bill here too. 

“I would just try not to think about it too much,” Bill said, obviously thinking the same thing that you were. Both of you laughed and hugged, your breathing coming to a safe pace again. 

When you two walked back into the living room, the movie was showing it’s credits. Both of you tried to seem as normal as possible, but it was inevitable that someone would ask something.

“You two said you were going to get popcorn, where is it?” Eddie asked, his eyebrow raising. 

“Yeah, we also didn’t hear the microwave on in there,” Richie added, a smirk plastering his face.

A blush creeped onto Bill’s cheeks and soon your own, realizing that you hadn’t been that quiet and discreet as you two thought. 

#bill denbrough smut #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough imagine #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #it #it imagine #it 2017 #it 2019 #it movie #reddie

[princecharmingmendes]

Heartstrings | Chapter XI | Shawn Mendes

“ ‘It’s like a best friend, but more. It’s the one person in the world that knows you better than anyone else. It’s someone who makes you a better person, well, actually they don’t make you a better person… you do that yourself because they inspire you. A soulmate is someone who you carry with you forever. It’s the one person who knew you, and accepted you, and believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. And no matter what happens..you’ll always love them.’ - unknown”

“Shawn was a huge believer that the ‘soulmates’ situation’ was the most stupid thing on the planet, specially since it was such a rare thing to find someone with the same mark as you. He would do anything he could to prevent the so called 'destiny’ from happening, but could he?”

hi, i hope everyone’s doing okay and this is another chapter to the new series, filled with angst, so i hope you like it and don't hate me, please give me some feedback.

*Word Count: 2K+

*Warnings: cursing and angst, mentions of drinking.

*Posted: May 28th, 2020.

                                                   -*-

I woke up at some point during the morning, not knowing which hour was, which is not a thing I do normally, but when I finally started realizing my surroundings and the weight that was enveloping my middle I finally realized it wasn’t just another Sunday. I carefully turned around on his arms as not to wake him up and enjoyed the beautiful sight in front of me. It wasn’t like I have never seen Shawn asleep, it’s just I never had the opportunity to actually observe every single inch of his gorgeous face. His hair was a mess, but the sort of that you just want to bury your fingers in it and gently comb it through, his lips were slightly parted and in the most amazing pink shade, just like his cheeks.

I guess noticed my slight change of position, because he hummed still sound asleep and pulled me closer to his chest, nuzzling his face on my hair, and I had to use all the strength on my body not to giggle or squeeze him tighter. So I just laid there for a little while until I realized how bad I actually needed to pee. And I tried getting out of his vice grip as delicately as I could, again, to slip into his bathroom without waking him. But as soon as my body wasn’t tangled with his anymore he groaned and said something as he buried his face on his pillow. I still thought he was asleep, so I just tip toed to his attached bathroom, but in the middle of it I heard him calling my name.

“Baby? Where did you go?” he called from the bed.

The room was still pretty dark due to his curtains, but I could see the silhouette of his Godlike body sitting up.

“I just need to use the bathroom, be back in a sec”

“Okay” he mumbled and laid back down.

Since I was already there, I took the opportunity to brush my teeth with the spare toothbrush he had for me since I’ve been spending a lot of afternoons here to help him finish his paper. I also washed my face and applied some deodorant, trying to do it as quietly and quickly as I could. When I got back to the room, his form was laying down, so I decided he was probably back to sleep, but as soon as I got close to the bed, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down to him, making a giggle bubble on my throat.

“Careful, Shawn” I said between giggles and he chuckled lowly.

“Jus’ want my girl back in bed with me” he mumbled nuzzling on the skin of my neck.

“I’m here”

“I thought you were gone” he said wrapping his arms even tighter than before around me “and now you’re not leaving this bed till I’m done cuddling you”

“You’re a bit needy”

“I’m baby and tired, so I’m not responsible for whatever I’m saying right now, so don’t use them against me”

“Sure” I mumbled holding back a chuckle and placing a kiss on his forehead.

And before I could overanalyze it, he untucked his face from my neck with a pout on his beautiful sleepy expression and let out a little sound in protest. So I tried kissing his cheek and he leaned closer to my face, so I kept on planting soft kisses anywhere I could reach, until he started relaxing enough for me to know he fell asleep again. So I just decided to go back to sleep for a little while. The next time I opened my eyes there were a pair of honey orbes already looking at them. Shawn was softly playing with my hair as I was still laying on top of him. I just let my eyes flutter close again and I heard him chuckling.

“Morning, sleeping beauty” he said with his raspy morning tone.

“I was up before you, you just convinced me to go back to sleep” I tried saying without letting on how much strength I had to use to hold back a shiver.

“That’s fair” Shawn answered placing a sweet kiss on my hair line “If I remember correctly, I promised you breakfast”

“You did”

“Want it now?”

“Do I have to get up?”

“I can bring it up here”

“Then I do” I said smiling sheepishly at him, who only giggled in response.

“Fine”

He got up and closed the door behind him. I just sat down and let the events from earlier this morning and last night finally sink in. Everything felt too surreal to be true and if I’m completely honest, I still believe this was all a dream, but the tingling sensation on the places he touched was trying to tell me otherwise. Twenty minutes later he showed up with a tray filled with breakfast food for both of us to enjoy. He carefully placed it at the end of bed so we still had some space to move around and gave me a bashful grin, then he turned around and turned the TV on and sat down beside me.

“Is this all for us?”

“Yeah”

“Isn’t it a bit too much?”

“I’m starving and I eat a whole lot more than you”

“That’s true” I said reaching for a glass of orange juice “any response from your teacher?”

“I got an email but I didn’t open it” he replied placing a hand on my thigh.

“Why not?!”

“I’m afraid of it...? I know, it’s silly, it’s just...”

“It’s okay” I tried reassuring him by placing a hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze  “want me to open it for you?”

“Would you?”

“Sure” I said and he handed me his phone unlocked, so I quickly opened the email and read only the part that mater for me, which was his grade “you did it!”

“I did it?”

“You did, you got a pretty high score by the way” I said and he quickly wrapped his arms around me laughing.

“I can’t believe it!”

“Well, you should”

“Thank you so much for helping me out, really, I couldn’t have done it without you”

“Of course you could, you’re completely capable of doing everything”

“Thank you”

“It’s okay”

“I guess our little deal is over”

“I guess it is” I said biting back any expression that would indicate how sad I actually felt about it “and now we’ll go back to normal”

“Yeah, thought you would be happy about it”

“I kinda liked hanging out with you, just like we used to before Tyler and stuff”

“We won’t stop doing that” he said sounding a bit offended “at least we don’t have to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to have you away from me again”

“I don’t want it either, Shawnie, I just like you”

“I like you too, baby”

“So we’re still the same?”

“Yeah, and Mel wouldn’t let me leave if we ever were apart again, she really believes we’re going to get married or something”

“Melissa is obsessed with the idea of love and soulmates, she’s just excited I guess”

“She is, which is cute I guess, all I hear all day is Mike telling everyone here how much she’s amazing and stuff” Shawn said with a playful roll of his eyes.

“That’s sweet, I didn’t think they would become something, they both weren’t interested in a serious relationship”

“I’m happy they did, Mike seems happier”

“You can’t stop smiling, can you?

“I’m just so happy things are going just fine” he said “I just didn’t expect anything from that paper”

“It’s cute”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and I’m glad things turned out okay”

“Me too, by the way, Brian asked me to tell you that you’ll have to come to our next game night”

“I’ll come” I replied with a giggle.

And then we fell into easy conversation, eating and laughing about our conversation and the movie playing on the background. We spent a great amount of time just talking and laying there together, and then Mel started calling me cause I promised her that I was going to help her paint her nails and organize her notes for monday. So Shawn offered a ride to my dorm room, that I wasn’t about to refuse. So we went downstairs, and I had to borrow a few of his clothes to go back to my room, and the guys couldn’t hold back any silly jokes but I just didn’t care, it was just funny and they were just boys at the end. At his cars we just talked and sang a bunch of songs that was on the radio, and he parked outside, but as soon my eyes left the car, Tyler was standing there and I just stood there frozen. Shawn quickly hopped off his car and before he could do anything I was quickly following him to stop any mess they both could start.

“Hey, Shawn, chill, it’s okay” I said grabbing his bicep.

“I will as soon as he’s out of here”

“I’m not here for you, dude, I’m here to talk to her” Tyler practically spat on his face.

“I really don’t want to talk to you, you can just leave”

“I just want to apologize, Y/N, come on”

“Dude, she told you to leave”

“Shut up, Mendes”

“You can go-“

“Shawn, please, just say what you have to say, Tyler”

“So… I’m sorry, I was completely wasted and I know that’s not an excuse, but I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talked to you like that or anything”

“It’s okay, I just don’t want to talk about it or with you in general to be honest, so you can go, it’s okay, I don’t hate you or anything, I just don’t want to be friends anymore’

“It’s okay, thank you, bye Y/N”

“See you later” I turned to Shawn as soon as he was gone “so, you wanna come upstairs, Mel wouldn’t mind”

“You’re just going to let him walk away as if nothing happened?”

“I don’t have the time or energy to have him bothering me, if I just let him go I’ll be free and it really doesn’t matter”

“Is it because you still like him?”

“Of course not, Shawn, I just want to be left alone”

“He was an idiot to you!”

“And so were you! Shawn, I really don’t want to cause a scene or have any bad blood with you, can’t we just let this go?”

“No! Y/N, he literally tried to use you and I thought you’re done with him”

“And I am, Shawn, I don’t want to talk to him or whatever”

“But still you let him walk like nothing happened”

“Why does this bother you so much? It isn’t that big of a deal” I said tried to end this whole thing.

“It is, cause if it was me on his place you would have ripped my head off”

“That’s not true! And if I got more upset with you it’s because you and I have history, and it would be far worse, and stop with this whole competition you two have going on and projecting this on me, I have nothing to do with you”

“I’m not projecting anything, I’m trying to understand you, you’re being completely unfair with yourself by allowing him to think it’s fine, cause he’ll do it again, and even if it’s not with you, and you say it’s because you don’t like him, you just want peace, but that is a lie, you literally went to a party last night to have a chance to make out with him, and when things didn’t work out you came running to me and I just held you all night, only for you to say that’s okay to him to do that and get over everything the next morning”

“What are you trying to say with all this?”

“That you are a fucking player, Y/N, and I can’t even believe I actually thought we could be a thing, guess soulmates aren’t real” he said before climbing on his car and leaving.

And I just stood there, still in shock with everything that happened.

                                                   -*-

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[calumcest]

there’s no time for running away now

so me exposing myself: yes i write fics that i never post. here is one of them that i’m pretty sure i wrote while completely out of my fucking mind at like 2am and have not re-read or edited so? absolutely cannot guarantee the quality of this fic in any way shape or form please do not hold me accountable for any of its content. unless you like it in which case please do hold me accountable because i require at least 3 doses of validation a day to survive. also this fic was literally me coming up with the final line and then writing 2.4k just to have a reason to have it

It’s three a.m., and Ashton’s awake. 

On the surface, that might not appear to be a problem. And ordinarily, it wouldn’t be - ordinarily, Ashton would either roll over groggily, will sleep to come with every fibre of his being and maybe a quick prayer or two, or read something mind-numbingly boring like his urgent work emails to send him back to sleep. This, however, isn’t the most ordinary situation. 

Ashton is awake because of Luke. 

And, okay, that’s a bit of an unfair characterisation. It’s actually Ashton’s racing thoughts keeping him up, but since Luke’s the focus of said thoughts swirling in a huge cluster through Ashton’s mind, overlapping and interlocking so Ashton can’t pick them apart from the love love love that’s threading through them all, he’s going to blame it on Luke. And it’s not exactly Ashton’s fault he’s in love with Luke, is it? He’d challenge anyone to spend years crammed in tight spaces with Luke Hemmings and not fall in love with him. 

(Michael and Calum don’t count, obviously. Ashton’s never seen two people so blinkered by love in his life, and he’s equal parts envious of their deep, easy love and grateful that they’re not his competition. He’s not sure he could take on Calum’s thoughtfulness if it came down to it.) 

The real problem is that Ashton’s alone. They’re in a hotel, some shitty place in northern England that Ashton can’t even remember the name of, but they’d all been so ecstatic to find out that they had a room each (each!) that they hadn’t been able to bring themselves to care. They’d all hopped straight in the shower, washing off three days’ worth of sweat and grime, and then one by one dropped out of the group chat (Ashton had heard Calum’s door clicking open and shut, muted footsteps and muffled voices), until Ashton thought he was the only one left awake. 

When Ashton’s squashed in a tour bus with God knows how many other six-foot-something men in their twenties, there’s nothing he wishes for more than a moment to himself. He sneaks the moments in when he can - a few minutes backstage, a few moments on the bus in the morning before anyone else has woken up, before Luke comes padding in with bleary eyes and a sleepy smile that makes Ashton’s stomach flip - but it’s never more than ten minutes, never enough time to feel the solitude. Now, though, he’s got nothing to do besides let the seclusion envelop him, listen to the silence and his tinnitus and let the ringing infiltrate his thoughts. 

It’s been so long since Ashton’s been on his own, really been on his own - usually on hotel nights, he’s so exhausted and grateful for a proper bed he falls asleep fully-dressed and wakes up disoriented - that he’s kind of forgotten what it’s like. He’s forgotten the way that his thoughts start to squirm around in his mind, all clamouring for his attention, one following the other in such rapid succession that Ashton barely has the time to process them before the next one is already gripping him by the throat and forcing him to look at it. He’s forgotten how fucking overwhelming it is, how it makes his breath catch in his throat, his stomach churn, thinking himself in spirals that he can’t think himself out of. 

The fact that Luke’s next door isn’t exactly helping matters. The hotel walls seem to be a product of a scientific experiment into creating materials that are one atom thick, so Ashton can hear every move Luke makes. He heard it when Luke padded into the bathroom for a shower, when Luke ambled over to the desk, heard the entirety of the news that Luke had on for about twenty minutes (apparently the Queen’s giving a speech tomorrow, and the EU are looking to pass a law about interest rates). He heard it when Luke got changed, heard his fucking jeans drop to the floor, heard him tossing and turning trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. He can hear every creak of Luke’s bed, can almost make out Luke’s deep breathing if he really strains his ears, and it’s making it impossible not to think about him. Not that Ashton’s particularly good at ever not thinking about Luke. Luke Hemmings is definitely the majority shareholder of Ashton’s mind. 

Now, though, at three in the morning, in a shitty hotel room in God knows where, a country that isn’t home and never will be, on his own with nobody there to ground him, it feels frightening, more overwhelming than Ashton could ever put into words. He’s so in love with Luke, so fucking in love with Luke, and it puts everything on a knife’s edge. His sanity, his friendship with Luke, his career - everything’s on the line because Ashton can’t say no to those baby blues.

At half-past, when Luke rolls over in bed and makes a little noise of contentment, duvet rustling as he moves, Ashton breaks. 

“Wha’?” Michael says groggily when he picks up, sounding too sleepy to be annoyed. 

“Are you awake?” Ashton says, as quietly as possible, gnawing at his lip. 

“No,” Michael says, and then the line cuts out. Ashton hates him. 

“Are you up?” Ashton asks, when Michael picks up again, on the first ring. 

“Am now, dickhead,” Michael grunts. “‘s up?” 

“Luke.” There’s a pause, then a rustling sound and quiet footsteps, and then the sound of a door locking. 

“Ash, it’s three thirty in the fucking morning,” Michael says, and his voice echoes strangely, bouncing off the walls of what Ashton can only suppose is his en-suite, but it’s soft, understanding. He knows why Ashton’s still up, why he’s getting a call from across the hall at three-thirty in the morning. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says, hoping Michael understands yeah, that’s why I’m this fucked up. Everything feels worse at night, when Ashton doesn’t have the bright light of day to convince himself that it’s not that bad, he’s not going to fuck everything up that badly. Michael sighs, and it’s tinny and a little staticky, and Ashton’s suddenly struck with the thought that Michael’s voice is being beamed up to a satellite thousands of miles away before being sent back to Ashton, even though he’s about five strides away. It makes him feel a little sick, that level of removal between the two of them. Michael’s a few metres and yet thousands of miles away. 

“Ash,” he says gently, which is never a good sign from Michael. “You’ve got to stop torturing yourself like this.” Ashton bites at his thumbnail. 

“‘m not torturing myself,” he mumbles. 

“Oh?” Michael says, a note of scepticism in his voice. “You’re not lying in bed at three-thirty in the fucking morning thinking about how in love you are with Luke, convincing yourself you’re going to fuck everything up because of it?” Ashton hesitates. 

“Fuck you,” he says eventually, and Michael doesn’t even retort, just sighs again, heavy and sad. 

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” he says. 

“You’re not seeing me,” Ashton says, a little childishly. 

“You know what I mean.” Ashton does, and he hates it. It adds a sheen of guilt to all the other confusing emotions bubbling through him, that Michael’s got to deal with this, got to walk the tightrope of being between his two best friends. 

“Sorry,” Ashton says, a little too meekly. 

“Don’t,” Michael says sternly. “You’ve got to do something about it, Ash. You can’t spend the rest of your life stuck in perpetual limbo.” Ashton tears at a hangnail, relishing the way it stings when he rips it. 

“Do what?” Ashton says. “‘s not like I can tell him. Could fuck everything up.” He hesitates, and then adds: “Could fuck your life up.” 

“You think that matters more to me than your happiness?” Michael says, sounding genuinely incredulous, and Ashton loves him, absolutely fucking loves him, and absolutely doesn’t deserve him. 

“I love you,” he tells Michael, who snorts, the sound echoing strangely in the bathroom. 

“You’d better,” he says, but it’s fond. “C’mon, Ash, you’ve got to talk to him at some point. What the fuck else are you going to do? Sit around and wait for Luke to get married and have two-point-five kids?” Ashton blinks up at the ceiling, stomach churning at the thought of Luke with a faceless spouse and a white picket fence. 

“Maybe,” he says, counting the stains on the white paint to give him something else to think about. “Doesn’t sound like the worst plan in the world.” 

“No, Ash, it does,” Michael’s tinny voice tells him. “Christ. You’re such a fucking emotional masochist.” Ashton sighs, and casts his gaze down to the hem of his shirt, picking at a loose thread.

“What the fuck would I even say?” he says. It’s not like he’s never envisioned it; a grand declaration of love - always returned by Luke, of course - but in his fantasies, it’s a certainty that Luke’s going to feel the same way, so there’s none of that gut-wrenching, stomach-rolling uncertainty, no bile rising in his throat, no clammy hands and dry mouth. 

“The truth?” Michael suggests. Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“Mike, I can’t just waltz up to Luke and tell him I’m in love with him,” he says.

“Worked for me,” Michael says, and Ashton can almost hear him shrugging. 

“That’s different,” Ashton says, because it is. Michael’s not a massive fucking overthinker. 

“Is it?” Michael says, a little shrewdly. “I didn’t know if Calum felt the same way. But what else was I gonna do, wait around the rest of my life wasting my time on him? I needed closure either way. Would’ve spent the rest of my life making myself miserable living off hope otherwise.” Ashton knows he’s right, knows from the way his stomach sinks and his heart speeds up, but hates it, wants to rationalise why he doesn’t need to tell Luke, why he shouldn’t. “You’re overthinking it,” Michael says into the silence, like he knows exactly what’s going through Ashton’s mind right now, and Ashton scowls. 

“Right, fuck me for overthinking something that could end my career,” he hisses, gripping the phone tighter than necessary because his hands are a little cold and clammy now at the thought of having to actually stand in front of Luke and say the words I’m in love with you. 

“You’re such a fucking drama queen,” Michael says, tutting. 

“Are you insane?” Ashton demands, incensed, and this is good, this is safe. He can redirect all the discomfort and anxiety into righteous anger; he can handle that. That’s well-worn territory with him and Michael. 

“I’m not doing this, Ash,” Michael says sensibly, because he knows Ashton far too well for Ashton’s liking. “You can’t keep running from your feelings the minute they get too heavy for you to bear. ‘S never gonna get any better if you’re not letting yourself process it. It doesn’t go away on its own.” 

“I know,” Ashton says hopelessly, because he does, and it’s what he’s been trying to run from. He knows he can’t live in this limbo forever, but he can’t bring himself to take a step in either direction. “Fuck, Michael. I don’t know if I can do it.” 

“You can,” Michael says, gentle, encouraging. 

“It’d fuck everything up,” Ashton says. 

“It won’t,” Michael says. “You’re both mature adults.” He pauses, and Ashton knows they’re thinking the same thing, and then he adds: “Okay, well. You’re a mature adult. I’ll drag Luke into maturity kicking and screaming.” Ashton can’t help but huff out a laugh at that, chest warming as he hears the meaning behind what Michael’s saying - I’ll fight your corner. I’ve got your back. 

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Ashton says, biting his lip. 

“Then at least you know,” Michael says. “And you can start moving on.” Ashton swallows, ignoring the pain of the lump in his throat. 

“I don’t want to,” he says, and it comes out a little strangled. 

“I know,” Michael says. Ashton waits for something else, for him to justify it, but there’s just staticky silence from Michael’s end of the line. 

“That’s it?” 

“What, you want a deep, motivational speech as to why you should tell him?” Michael says. “I’m not going to give you that, Ash. Do it or don’t, it’s up to you. But you’ll never be able to rest, never have your mind to yourself, until you do it.” Ashton exhales shakily. 

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice cracks, because God, it’s fucking terrifying, thinking that he might have to face Luke and say the words I’m in love with you in order to get his own sanity back. “You’re right.” 

“I know,” Michael says, and Ashton huffs out a laugh to cover the flutters of panic in his chest. “Can I go back to sleep now?” Ashton blinks, and nods. 

“Yeah,” he says again, voice a little steadier this time. “Sorry.” 

“‘S okay,” Michael says through a yawn, and Ashton has to stifle a yawn of his own. Christ, he’s actually fucking drained. Overthinking should qualify as a sport. “Love you. Not as much as I love Calum, though.” 

“Arsehole,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Love you too. But not as much as I love Luke.” 

“I’d fucking hope not,” Michael says. “Don’t want you to be fantasising about fucking me.” Ashton wrinkles his nose. 

“I don’t want to fantasise about that either,” he says. 

“So don’t.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Good,” Michael says, stifling a yawn. “Don’t fantasise about Calum, either.” 

“Why the fuck would I fantasise about Calum?” Ashton wants to know. 

“Hey,” Michael says, sounding a little affronted. “What the fuck are you trying to say?” 

“I’m saying neither you nor Calum are exactly at the top of my fantasy list when Luke’s right there,” Ashton says. 

“That’s fucking rude,” Michael tells him. 

“What the fuck? You just told me-” 

"Yeah, but on principle you should want to fantasise about us,” Michael interrupts. “You just aren’t allowed.” Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not fantasising about anyone except Luke,” he says. 

“I don’t want to know that.” Jesus Christ. Michael’s fucking impossible. 

“Go to fucking sleep,” Ashton says, because arguing with Michael is a waste of time on the best of days, let alone at four in the fucking morning. 

“I’ve been trying,” Michael says, and there’s rustling sounds as he gets to his feet. “Night, Ashton. Love you.”

“Night,” Ashton says, but Michael’s already hung up. 

He plugs his phone in and rolls back over in bed, the emotional exhaustion starting to kick in, and he closes his eyes, ready to fall asleep, when from Luke’s room he hears a very, very clear-

“Night, Ash.” 

Fuck. 

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#lashton #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #thats probably the sneakiest britpop title i could possibly come up with #i'm actually dead proud of myself for that one #dithered about whether to put the line before in or not #but hopefully no one will read these tags and realise its britpop #lets be honest with ourselves am i going to post something with ZERO britpop references rn? #actually yes i am bc i did that with soulmate au #god my brand...who am i? letting the fucking team down #yes i've literally spent the entire time since answering that ask searching for a sneaky britpop lyric to put as the title #could have written a fkn sequel in that time but oh well! #i wonder if anyone actually reads these tags and is like bloody hell...glad i'm not in her brain #my tags are literally such an insight into how my mind works. or doesnt <3

[thestarsaroundyourscars]

84. Eddie ofc.

Hi, thank you! I’ve had this one for a while but I figured I could wait and post it on Thanksgiving!

84. “I may love you but I will kick your ass if you tempt me to.”

Read on AO3

Richie stopped pacing for a moment to take off his glasses and drag his hand down his face. He was currently standing in front of the Denbrough house⎯ had been for the past ten minutes, trying to prepare himself for what was inside.

Eddie.

It would be the first time Richie saw him in person since they broke up four months ago and Richie wasn’t ready. He thought about skipping Friendsgiving with the losers so he wouldn’t have to face Eddie just yet, but Stan had threatened to fly to California and drag him to Derry by his ears if he tried to do that.

“You’re gonna have to see him at some point Richie, we’re all friends. Stop being a little bitch.” Stan had told him before hanging up and that was it.

For a moment, Richie thought he could handle it. Their breakup was mutual, they were moving to different states for college and they were scared of what the distance could do to their relationship. It was better to end it before letting it ruin their friendship as well. They still talked⎯ at first it was a little weird while they learned to navigate the awkwardness that came with going from boyfriends to just friends, but they made it past that and now it was almost normal. 

Except for the fact that Richie was still in love with Eddie and he missed him every day. Hiding those feelings was easier when it was only texts and phone calls, but now he would seeing Eddie in person and he didn’t think he’d be able to act like everything was okay.

The door opened, snapping Richie out of his thoughts. Bev stood there, raising an eyebrow at him.

“How did you know I was here?“ 

"I saw you pacing from the kitchen window and I got tired of waiting for you to get your shit together." 

“Oh right.” At least it was Bev who saw him. He smiled at her, big and honest. "I’ve missed you, Marsh.”

Her expression softened and she opened her arms, smiling back at him. “I know. Get in here, Tozier.” Richie listened, enjoying the hug and the happy squeal she made when he squeezed her waist.

“Everyone here already?" 

She gave him a knowing look, seeing right through his question. "Yes, Eddie is here and don’t worry, he’s just as nervous as you are." 

"Fuck you, I’m not nervous.” Richie said, she simply rolled her eyes and closed the door behind them. Then Richie heard it, the noise coming from inside. Their friends talking and catching up and over all of that, Eddie screaming at Bill to deal the fucking cards already! 

Hearing his voice in person was like being doused with ice cold water. It must have shown in his face because Bev gave his arm a squeeze before dragging him towards the living room.

“Look who I found lurking outside!" 

"My mother’s cat?” Bill asked distractedly without looking up from the deck of cards. 

“No, your mom’s boyfriend.” Richie replied, grinning and doing finger guns at his friends.  

They all groaned and rolled their eyes, but also crowded around Richie to hug him. When it was Eddie’s turn, they both hesitated. Richie didn’t know if they were supposed to hug or if that would be too weird. 

“Hey Eds.” He said, waving awkwardly. 

“Hi Rich." 

His friends were trying to give them space, turning their backs to them and engaging in meaningless conversation. Richie loved them for it, but it made the moment even more awkward. 

Well, if it was already awkward⎯

Fuck it, Richie thought and wrapped his arms around Eddie, pulling him in. Eddie let out a little yelp before relaxing and tentatively slipping his arms around Richie’s waist. Richie didn’t want to let go, he had missed Eddie so much his heart ached, but he forced himself to pull away after a few seconds.

"Okay!” He cleared his throat, putting some distance between him and Eddie and trying not to stare at his cute little blush. “Are we gonna eat or what? I’m fucking starving!”

They crammed into the table, jostling for seats. Richie ended up between Eddie and Stan. He thought about asking Stan to switch, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. He already knew what Stan would say, they used to sit like this even before he and Eddie started dating and Richie would just have to suck it up. 

Conversation flowed easily, the seven of them speaking over each other while they ate, talking about their classes, their dorm rooms, the people at their college. Richie was having fun and he was happy that he came. He’d missed his friends, including Eddie. 

Once they got past the initial awkwardness, they easily fell back into their usual banter. Richie made fun of Eddie and the wet wipes he pulled out of his fanny pack, Eddie bitched at Richie for eating with his hands and they bickered over silly stuff. It was good, normal⎯ as long as Richie ignored the way his heart sped up when Eddie smiled at him a certain way or how his breath caught in his throat when their knees touched under the table. 

After dinner, they moved to the living room. His friends had been playing Uno while they waited for Richie to arrive, the cards still spread out on the coffee table. Bill, Eddie, Mike and Richie crowded around it to play another game while Stan, Bev and Ben sat on the couch and browsed Netflix for something to watch. 

Their game dragged on mostly because whenever one of them was close to winning, the other three would band together to make sure that person had to draw a bunch of cards from the pile.

It was already the third time Eddie was down to one card, after yelling uno! so loud and sudden that he startled Ben who’d been falling asleep on Bev’s lap. Eddie did a little dance, a smug smile on his face. Richie had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from blurting out cute cute cute.

He stared down at his cards instead. He had a lot of them. It turned out that Bill sucked at shuffling and during his last turn, Richie had to draw like ten red cards before finding the yellow one that he needed. That was okay though, Richie wasn’t trying to win, he only wanted to have fun and pissing off Eddie was always a sure way to do that. Luckily he had the perfect card for it. 

Eddie knocked his feet against Richie’s leg. “Are you having a stroke? Your face is doing something weird.”

“It’s called a smile Eds, you should try it sometime.” Richie shot back with no heat. 

Eddie stuck his tongue out at him. 

After Bill and Mike placed their cards on the pile, it was Richie’s turn again. Eddie was anxiously bouncing his leg, waiting for Richie to play so he could do the same and win. 

But Richie was about to rain on his parade. 

“I have a surprise for you, Eds.” Richie singsonged, smirking. 

Eddie frowned, then his eyes drifted to Richie’s cards and those eyes widened. “No! Richie, no! Don’t you dare.”

Richie’s smirk widened, he picked the Draw four card from his pile and showed it to Eddie, whose eyes narrowed. 

“Richie, no.”

“Richie, yes.”

“Do not use that card.” Eddie told him, pointing a menacing finger at him. 

Richie lowered the card slowly towards the pile, making a show of it. “Or what?”

Bill and Mike were watching the exchange, both amused and exasperated. Richie could see Stan shaking his head at them from the corner of his eye.

“You were so close, Eds." 

Eddie groaned, reaching for Richie’s card with a quick movement but Richie saw it coming and he held it above his head. "Give me the card, Richie.”

“Nope." 

Eddie pounced, climbing over Richie to get it himself. Richie blinked up at him, slightly panicked at having Eddie in his lap. He still managed to keep the card out of his reach. "Eddie, what the fuck?” He said, voice a higher pitch than usual. 

“Give me that card! Richie!” He yelled, reaching for it, straddling Richie and almost sending his heart rocketing out of his chest. He could hear Mike trying to coax Eddie from his lap, bless his heart, but Eddie wasn’t listening. “Goddamnit Rich, I may love you but I will kick your ass if you tempt me to.”

Richie let out a strangled noise, Eddie froze realizing what he just said. He stared down at him with big brown eyes that looked as shocked as Richie felt. The living room was completely silent, except for the movie playing in the background. Richie could feel all of their friends staring at them.

Then Bill was standing up, clearing his throat. "I think I just saw my mom’s cat through the window.” He said, exchanging a look with Mike. “Do you guys want to see if we can⎯”

“Yeah.” Mike cut in, also standing up. “We’ll leave you two to it.” He told Richie and Eddie, walking to the door. Bev and Stan did the same, dragging a confused Ben with them. 

When they heard the door close, Eddie scrambled off Richie, his face a dark shade of red. He sat back on his heels, staring down at his lap. Richie sat up and watched Eddie closely, there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and he was biting on his lower lip. 

“Here.” Richie said, offering Eddie the card. He accepted it with a snort, playing with it. “Listen Eds, I know you didn't⎯ It’s fine. This isn’t the first time you said something you didn’t mean in the heat of the game.” He chuckled nervously. Eddie still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I mean, there was that time you said you’d cut off Bill’s hand while we played Monopoly. At least I think you didn’t mean that, but you know, if you did⎯”

“I meant it.” Eddie said, so quiet that Richie almost didn’t hear him over his own rambling.

Richie frowned confused, even if Eddie wasn’t looking at him. “You wanted to cut off Bill’s hand?”

Eddie gave him a look, the you’re an idiot look Richie knew so well. “No Richie, the⎯ the other thing.” He said, flicking the card at his face. “I love you.”

Hearing those words again made Richie feel warm all over, it had been so long. He tried to squash down the feeling but he couldn’t help softly asking, “You do?”

“Of course I do, Rich. I never stopped.” Richie stared at him, mouth opening and closing but no words came out. Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I knew this would happen, shit. That’s why I didn’t want to come.”

“I didn’t want to come either.” Richie said, biting the inside of his cheek. “Stan had to fucking threaten me. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kissing you or doing something stupid like⎯”

“Like saying you still love me?” Eddie supplied with the faintest of smiles. 

Richie let out a snort. “Yeah, something like that.” Eddie giggled softly. Richie stared at him, sure that there were literal hearts behind his eyes. How could he forget how cute that sound was? “I do by the way. Still love you." 

Eddie sighed, mouth curled downwards. “That doesn’t change anything.” 

“Why not?”

Eddie shook his head, frowning. “Because even if we love each other, we still live in opposite sides of the country Rich, we can’t make a long distance relationship work⎯”

“We’re making a long distance friendship work Eds, how is that any different?” Richie argued. He didn’t know where this was coming from, he hadn’t planned to try and get Eddie back, but now that he knew there was a chance, that Eddie still loved him, he had to give it a shot. 

“It’s different if we’re together, you⎯ you could meet someone.” Eddie said, voice small and sad. “What if you meet someone and you like them and you can’t be with them because you’re stuck with me? Your boyfriend that is a thousand miles away.” 

“I already met someone I like.” Eddie’s face fell and Richie had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at him. “It’s you, you idiot. I don’t want anyone else. Do you?” Eddie shook his head without missing a beat. “Then why the fuck are we still arguing, when we could be making up for four months of not kissing?”

Eddie chuckled, leaning in and butterflies exploded in Richie’s chest at having Eddie so close. Before their lips touched though, Eddie paused. “Do you really think we can make this work?” He asked, Richie heard the fear and worry in his voice. He was worried too, but he loved Eddie too much to let fear get in the way again.

“I think we at least deserve a chance to try.” 

“Okay.” Eddie said before finally closing the distance between them and capturing Richie’s lips in a kiss. Richie responded eagerly, pouring four months of longing into the kiss. Eddie climbed on his lap for a second time that day, Richie gave his thighs a squeeze. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” Richie said, smiling against Eddie’s mouth.

“Me too, Rich.” Eddie cradled Richie’s face. “But if you use that Draw four card on me, I’m breaking up with you again.” 

Richie let out a laugh, nodding. He didn’t care about the stupid game, as far as he was concerned, he already won. 

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh​​​​ @yes-dillman-yes​​ @richietoaster​​ ​ @beepbeeprichiellc​​ ​ @its-stranger-than-you-think​​ ​ @lemonaayyee​​ ​ @losers-gotta-stick-together​​ ​ @tinyarmedtrex​​ ​ @richiefuckfacetozier​​ ​ @sam-i-am2468​​ ​ @richardtoz​​ ​ @s-s-georgie​​ ​ @reddie-for-anything​​ ​ @eddiefuckinkaspbrak​​ ​ @constantreaderfool​​ ​ @stanleuyris​​ ​ @jesuschristsupruvestar​​ ​ @mirandonsky​​ ​ @reddie4diaster​​ @alargedepresso​​ ​ @purplepoisonedgem​​ ​ @pan-ini​​ ​ @reddie-to-cry​​​ @reddieforlove​​ ​ @trashmouthnick​​ ​ @multi-fandom-wby​​ ​ @wheezyeds​​ ​ @nancynwheeler​​ ​ @reddieslashgeneralhorror​​​​ @madi-personal​​ ​ @reddie-tozibrak​​​​ @lover-mouth​​ ​ @atownofeggs​​ ​ @that-weird-girls-blog​​ ​ @appojoos​​ ​ @castielwinovak​​ ​ @a-gay-treee​​​ @twoidiotsinl0ve​​ ​ @fcngirltrxsh​ @spirited-marvel​​ @typewrxter​ ​ (if you want to be added, let me know!)

#reddie #UNO bringing people together instead of apart for a change #getting back together #losers club friendsgiving #monse writes #newtopiarising

[thewildwaffle]

Abduction - Chapter 31

I had scheduled this to be posted this morning but had accidentally set the wrong day, so I hope no one thought I was just pulling an April Fools Day joke and not posting it at all. I was thinking of posting a joke chapter (maybe a few paragraphs long) but I thought of it too late and my brain just doesn’t want to work anymore right now. Maybe later though.

First Chapter     Previous Chapter      Next Chapter

***

Jebannuck nudged his food with the blunt end of his utensil. He hadn’t eaten since he’d first woken up, and it was now late in the cycle. He just couldn’t find any interest in the sauteed parteem stems right now.

His humans were leaving today.

“Are you just going to push those around your plate forever, or are you actually going to ingest them?” Simmo pestered him from across the table. Since being released from the medical ward, Simmo had been granted restricted clearance aboard the Rock Base. It was actually quite restricted and only granted after a few threats (mostly from the humans, but some from Jeb about reporting the illegality of their attempt to remove her from Demfar’s care without authorization earlier.) One requirement to Simmo’s freedom was that she was to always be accompanied, and if she wasn’t with Mike or Wenona, she was usually with him.

Jebannuck looked up from his uneaten meal at her. Her compound eyes stared back coolly. He sighed. He really should eat, but his stomach felt too tangled up to hold anything. He grunted and pushed the plate across the table to her. Her antenna flicked as she looked the food over. After a moment, she speared one of the stems with her claws and slid it into her mouth.

“These are better when they’re not cooked,” she managed to say between bites. “Makes them mushy.”

Jebannuck nodded half-heartedly as he rested his chin on his hand. He wasn’t sure why he felt like this. He should be happy. Mike and Wenona were going home, back to their normal lives before they were abducted. Back to Earth where they could get help and get their lives back together.

He suspected he felt this way because… well because…

He exhaled and leaned back in his seat. Simmo, who was still munching away quietly, eyed him curiously.

“What’s with the long face?”

Jeb looked up. He raised one eyebrow. “Long face?” He brushed his chin with to make sure nothing was wrong he hadn’t noticed. “Does my face look different than it usually does?”

Simmo’s eyes suddenly shone bright, smug that she knew something he didn’t. “It’s a human expression. Mike told me a few so I would better understand conversations on Earth. It means, ``Why do you look so sad?””

Jeb’s hand dropped back down to his lap as he frowned.

“I’m… not sad.”

Simmo growled.

“Why would I be sad?” Jebannuck countered. “Today is a happy day. Mike and Wenona are finally going home, it’s what they’ve been trying to do for partecs now. I’m glad for them.”

Simmo studied him for a moment. “You’re going to miss them.”

Jebannuck opened his mouth automatically to respond, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. Before he could make up his mind though, he was interrupted by a loud voice from the other side of the cafeteria.

“Well if it isn’t Jebannuck Sefra! I hear you’re back from the dead!”

Jeb looked to the source of the voice. A large, hairy, red biet was strolling in followed by two squifra. He recognized them.

“Biet Tungs Arku, is that really you?”

“In the fur!” Tungs laughed and as she approached the table. She gave Simmo a side glance before sitting down. The squifra joined as well, side fins up cheerily, but giving the Montauk plenty of space.

“We would have come to visit you earlier,” Tungs continued, “but we’ve been busy with finalizing the repairs on our ship.” “You’re still on the ESS Butel?”

“Still am. So is Burrek here,” she motioned to the shorter squifra with a mostly green-colored skin patterns.

“Good to see you Burrek,” Jebannuck nodded respectively. Burrek had served under him while stationed on the ESS Butel as the Chief of Security. They didn’t get along amazingly well, but kept things cordial enough to do their respective jobs. He had been promoted once Jebannuck had transferred to the Gladius.

“I’d like to say it’s been quiet since you left, but, well, we’ve added another human to the crew, so you know it’s probably good you got out when you did.”

“What do you mean?”

Tung and Burrek shared a look with each other. “Well, it’s no secret you weren’t a huge fan of Humans Derrek and Carl, and then you go and get marooned on a Death World and then held hostage by the Burnti with two of them. Just you and them, up close and personal.”

Simmo made a loud set of clicking noises with her mandibles. Tung gave her a quick glance and ammended, “and a Montauk.”

“I heard they’re going back to Earth today,” Burrek added. “That must be a bit of relief for you. Well, at least for a while. I’m sure humans will be officially integrated into your crew soon. Most ships in the fleet have a few.”

“Poor Jebannuck,” Tung laughed, “Try as you can, you just can’t seem to escape them huh? Oh, Burrek, do you remember the time Human Derrek pulled that prank on ol’ Jebannuck?” She bowed over with laughter, her voice seemed to shake the air around them. “It was so funny, and Jebannuck was so mad! Oh!” She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. “Oh. It must have been hard for you. After I mean. You thought you’d gotten away from humans and then had to go through all… that ordeal. That must have been hard.”

She waited for an answer, but none came.

“Jebannuck?”

Still nothing.

“Hey Jeb,” Simmo pushed aside the rest of the plate of parteem stems and stood up, “it’s almost time for that meeting. We’re going to be late.”

Jeb looked up, confused but relieved. “Biet Tungs, Squifra Burrek,” he nodded politely to the other squifra he hadn’t been introduced to, “I must accompany our friend here. It’s been… a pleasure to run into you. Safe travels and infinite horizons to you all if I don’t see you before we leave.” And he stood up and followed Simmo out of the cafeteria. 

They walked down the hall for a while in silence before Jeb turned to Simmo. “I wasn’t aware we had a meeting.” “We don’t. I could tell you were getting upset.”

He stopped. She stopped.

“Upset?”

She blinked her compound eyes silently at him.

“What do you mean. Why would I be upset?”

Simmo flicked her antenna, annoyed.

They stood there, staring at each other in the almost empty hall. A few couriers hustled past them, trying to get their packages delivered quickly as well as put some distance between themselves and the Montauk. Jeb’s frown finally broke and he sighed deeply.

“Back there...I was reminded… when she talked about… I used to be so… but…” He groaned at himself inwardly. There were very few moments in his life where he ever struggled to find words. Two of them now were when he was talking to or about Mike and Wenona.

Simmo just stared at him. “They changed you.” She sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Seems to be what humans are good at.”

A smile played on the edge of Jeb’s mouth. “They’ve changed you a lot too.” Simmo sneered and tossed her head. 

Jeb couldn’t help but let the smile completely spread across his face. “Come on, they should be getting done soon. We should go help make sure they’re ready to go.” He started down the hallway, looking back slightly to make sure she was following. “You’re really set and determined to go with them?”

Simmo scoffed. “Verses what? Staying here stuck being babysat by you the rest of my life? No thanks.”

Jeb didn’t want to get into it with her that she did have other options. She knew that. She’d made up her mind already and no force was going to stop her, and he wished her the best. He smiled to himself. Friends with a Montauk. Simmo. He really did wish her the best on the human home planet.

“Earth it is then.”

***   *   ***

It had been two years. That’s what they're called here. Two sets of 365 local planetary rotations to orbit the local star.

Whoo-hoo.

Simmo smiled smugly to herself. She was getting pretty good at human phrases. Whoo-hoo was a very fun one, albeit too energetic for her tastes to use unironically. It was much more fun to use it with sarcasm. And oh, did she enjoy sarcasm. It’s not solely a human thing, but they did have it down to an art.

With a final tug, she finished ratcheting a bolt into place. There. That should do it. This stupid bucket of bolts should be ready to fly now. It had better be, she’d spent a good chunk of this past month working on the dumb shuttle. It was an older model, but her new employers, Near Star, hadn’t phased it out, much to her chagrin. She would fix one thing only to find two more problems with it.

She wiped a bit of oil and grit off on a rag as she stepped back. Her thorax ached, but she felt satisfied with the job. She’d just need to test it to make sure everything was good to go. The next part of her job was less satisfying. Paperwork.

She threw the rag onto a desk and walked around the shuttle, stretching and admiring her work.

A thought struck her. Life was crazy. It was a thought she had a lot, but it felt really poignant today. Life is so fluid, it could just change shape and alter course as if on some whim. She was proof of that. Life had been rough to her, then full of adventure. It gave her a family, then treacherously stole them away. It left her desperate, injured, captured, then decided to gift her peace and quiet, with new friends and family, a quiet life with simple tasks to do and a home on a death world of all places.

She had had a good year living with Mike and Wenona. She had learned a lot. She met world leaders, ate the sweetest foods she’d ever had before in her life, nearly baked to death in the desert, and swam in an ocean. Well, she didn’t really swim. She waded in it a bit to appease Mike before getting the heck out of the water. She had read up on what lives in there. Flargin’ monsters of the deep, that’s what. It was also huge, and way too salty. It terrified her on a primal level, though she’d never admit it.

Her phone rang and pulled her from her mental meanderings. She went to fetch it from her cubby. It was a primitive thing, even by human standards. Their newer phones that were more “smart” mostly used screen interfaces that did not cooperate well with her exoskeletal, sharp hands. This one folded in half and had soft buttons for her to push.

“Hello?”

“Ahoy Simster!”

There were only two beings in this plane of reality that would ever be permitted to live after calling her that, and only one ever did it regularly.

“What do you want Mike?”

“Well, I was just wondering for no real reason, but have you heard anything from the Galactic Confederation lately?”

“I hear what’s in the news. That’s it.”

“They… haven’t contacted you or anything?”

“No.”

“Nothing at all? No incoming messages, or phone calls, or… did we ever help you set up an email?”

“Mike, I’m at work, you want to maybe get to your point?”

“Well I just think it’s weird you haven’t heard anything yet is all!”

“Mike.”

“Well, I guess it only has been an hour. Well, almost an hour.  I’m just so excited! I’m not going to spoil it though, but if you don’t hear from them by the end of the day, I just might. I’m going to be back in Arizona in about two days.”

“Two days?” Simmo caught that part with a frown and held the phone a little closer to her tympanal to make sure she was hearing alright. “I thought your training went on for another two weeks. What do you mean ‘two days?’”

There was a rustle and Mike’s voice on the other side went a little garbled, like he was covering the speaker while yelling something to someone. When he got back on the phone, Simmo could almost hear the stupid grin on his face. “Listen Simmo, I’ve got to go, but yeah, I’m coming back day after tomorrow. They’ve got something new and it’s big. Like, big big!” “Well it sounds awful already,” she grumbled.

“Hey, let me know if they get in touch with you or not. I’m not doing it without you, or, you know without you being able to chose to or not. I mean, no hard feelings if you don’t want to.”

“Mike, you’re making less and less sense the more you talk.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry-love-ya-got-to-go-BYE!”

And with a beep from the little speaker, he was gone.

She folded the phone and put it away with a hiss. What, by all that is bright and shining, was that all about? Shaking her head, she started back toward the shuttle with it’s keys to give it a test run when her comm device went off. It was set up similarly to the ones used by the Galactic Confederation (who had probably traded the technology with Earth a few years ago). It was supposed to be set in the local network within Near Star, but it did also have access to the planet-wide internet. She pulled up a holographic screen and read through her messages.

The newest one was from an external source. It was from the United-Earth Space Embassy’s Galactic Confederation Relation’s office. Her hand hovered over it for a while. What could be so big? 

It was a fight inside her mind. On one part, she was nervous and weary. The Galactic Confederation did not hide their disdain for the Montauk race as a whole. What could they possibly want from her? She had found a place to call her own here on Earth, and had somehow started to think of it as home. Life was quiet, but after everything she’d been through, quiet was good. It was more than good. Earth had welcomed her as a hero who had helped save two of their own. All her needs were met, she had want for nothing.

And that, the other side of her mind countered, was part of her problem. Life was good yes, but it was quite sedentary. Her whole life, ever since her second molt, had been on the move. It was a matter of survival then, but it became a part of her. For every shuttle she repaired, she imagined herself boarding it and taking off through the stars.

The problem was she had nowhere to go. No one to go with. Mike and Wenona were her hive now, and they were on Earth.

This was home.

But at the same time, she felt so restless.

She dropped the hologram and paced next to the shuttle. Her mind kept going back and forth like a match of that one weird human sport Wenona’s little sister kept trying to get her to play.

“What am I doing?” she muttered to herself. “I don’t even know what they want. Mike said something about me making a choice,” she pulled the hologram back up. “I should probably find out what decision it is that needs to be made before I go driving myself crazy like this.”

With just a small pause, she opened the message and browsed over all the flowery pomp and circumstance of the first paragraph. Frewan, these people could never just get to the point, could they?

Then she found it- what had gotten Mike so excited. She read it and re-read it to make sure she was understanding it correctly.

This was big.

***

Next Chapter

#abduction #jebannuck #simmo #i wasn't going to do another Simmo chapter but she's grown so much i had to #humans are weird #humans #space orcs #space #aliens #writblr #original writing

[sarcastically-defensive17]

OMG, so I just saw a post of Australia, you know the kind of show how wild nature is there, so I just thought like any member of 5sos x reader where whoever you choose is so exited to show reader Australia and his home and reader is just really nervous and afraid bc Australia is wild jajsjsjdjd But she doesn't say anything bc she loves to see how exited he is

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie - M. Clifford

So this probably didn’t live up to expectations so I hope you don’t completely hate it! I figured Mikey would be the type to hype himself up to a reader who had no experience with the fine country I come from.

Gotta love the crazy ass animals we have here!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

When Michael informed her of his decision to take her on a round trip of Australia, she had to feign excitement.

She knew that it was a beautiful country, filled with beautiful people and Michael had so much love for the land he called home, but there was one largely terrifying factor.

According to every nature documentary she had indulged herself in, in preparation for the trip, Australia had some of the most dangerous wildlife imaginable.

“Ooh, the wildlife channel,” Michael sounded from behind her, and she turned her head from the television to see her blond boyfriend walk into her vision. He had a black hat positioned on his head. “Getting excited to battle the frightening natural elements back in ‘Straya?”

She giggled at the way he molded his accent, resembling the way Steve Irwin spoke in the Crocodile Hunter movie he had subjected her to.

“It’s not that crazy, is it?” She was hesitant. She had heard so much about the creepy crawlers, the large snakes that could kill people within seconds, the vicious kangaroos and whatever ‘drop-bears’ are. She was terrified.

“Oh it’s much worse!” He giggles. If only he knew that his jokes were increasing her anxiety for the trip. “I remember when I was younger, a kangaroo jumped in my backyard and started chasing me. Those 2 meter y’all Mike Tyson’s are terrifying.”

Y/N felt her face visibly pale. Kangaroos are meant to be cute and cuddly. When she was younger she heard that they were the kindest Australian animal.

“Don’t even get me started on the drop bears! One of them ate my puppy when I was 6!”

“What’s a drop bear?” She gasped, letting her mouth fall open slightly.

“It’s what we call Koala’s that have gone rabid,” he held a devilish grin on his face.

It might have been cruel of him to torment his girlfriend in such a way, but he couldn’t deny the amount of badassery he felt when she gushed about how tough he is to have survived living in such a dangerous place.

Having a girlfriend who was born and raised in a nice neighbourhood in Columbus, Ohio had some benefits to his ego.

“Bad time to say that I don’t wanna get eaten by a drop bear?” She laughed nervously, “Koala’s are cute and cuddly. How do they go rabid?”

“The rabies gets to them.”

“Rabies?”

He made a noise of agreement, “You will be fine baby,” he rubbed her shoulder softly. “Just need to remember your running shoes.”

She groaned, feeling no other way to expel her nervous energy but to smack the hand off of her shoulder.

She was going to get eaten, she knew it. One of the dangerous wild animals in Australia was going to murder her.

That, or she would be sent to prison for strangling her boyfriend.

“How did you survive down there?” She whined, dreading the trip they will be leaving for in a few days. “Everything is so terrifying already.”

“Us Aussies are born with fire in our blood, sweet cheeks,” he quipped, flexing his arm and frowning when his bicep didn’t inflate enough. “We know how to handle the crazy wildlife.”

“I can’t imagine you or Luke handling a 3 meter long Red-bellied Black snake, or a big huntsman,” she grumbled.

“Ahh, see, you know the threats already! Summer time is the worst for the snakes and spiders, but we will be fine!” She sighed at his words, closing her eyes as he pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling her close. “At least, we might be.”

()()()()()()

The flight from LA to Sydney was long and arduous, but made better by the presence of her boyfriend and her friends who were either visiting family or accompanying them on their trip.

Calum, and Luke and Sierra had planned to visit family while in their home country, whereas Ashton and KayKay and Michael and Y/N would embark on a three week trip from state to state in the country.

Everybody seemed excited apart from Y/N who was filled with dread at the sight of any native animals, but she loved nothing more than to see the way michaels eyes lit up when they landed at the airport.

She was even more terrified when she found out the first place they would be staying would be at a camping site that Taronga Zoo in Sydney had, but he was beyond excited to see all of the different animals up-close.

He told her a story on the plane ride over of how he did the camp out with his parents when he was younger, and it made her heart swell.

You could physically interact with the animals that surrounded the area, and she would be at the mercy of all of the little critters that swamped the ground. Nevertheless, she was determined to do it with Michael.

Ashton, in all of his sane glory, insisted that once they arrived at the zoo, they all needed to take a walk through the reptile exhibit.

All was fine and well until they reached the entrance to the cave like structure and Y/N couldn’t move her feet anymore.

She had forced herself to not mention her feelings to Micheal because of how excited he was to visit his home turf and spend time introducing everything to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to physically enter the cave.

Unfortunately, the blond man she adored noticed her faltered steps and walked backwards towards her with a concerned look in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He asked, a soft smile on his face that slowly stretched into a sly smirk, “scared of some snakes?”

She let out a soft laugh, lacking every ounce of humor as her wide eyes darted from Michael’s face to the entrance to the cave.

“Would you laugh if I said yes?”

“No, but I would laugh at the huntsman about to crawl on your ear?”

Her eyes widened further than they were, and a screech left her lips at the same time a loud laugh left Michael’s. She lurched her body, swatting at her shoulder and rushing to Michael’s side.

It took her a solid minute to realize there was no spider when her boyfriend was doubled over, taking in large gasps of breath as he released obnoxious laughs.

It took him a further minute to recover from what he believed to be the most hilarious joke ever, and when he looked up, he was met with the unimpressed expression that Y/N had on his face.

“I’m going to go find an animal that is cute and cuddly, and I’m staying far away from anything that slithers, or has more than four legs, or will bite me and kill me,” she began walking in the direction of a sign displaying koalas and kangaroos, without waiting for Michael or anybody else to catch up.

Footsteps sounded behind her as Michael jogged time catch up with her annoyed footsteps.

He slung an arm around her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her forehead and sending her an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, baby!” No reply. “You’re not seriously mad at me, are you?”

She gave him no sense of acknowledgement, walking along with her arms crossed.

“Y/N, please?” He began to put now, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her to face him. “Okay, baby. I know this isn’t your most ideal vacation, and all of the murderous animals here are getting to you, and don’t try to deny it because I can read you like a book,” he wagged a finger at her, poking her nose before continuing. “But I also know that there is no such thing as drop bears, and there are perfectly cuddly koala’s not far from here that I convinced some keepers to let you meet after hours.”

She seemed to perk up at this. She had read much about koala’s as she was drawn to the fluffy, grey bears and she was most excited to see them.

She couldn’t stop the smile from her face as she laced her fingers with his and pulled him along towards the koala sign.

“That’s my girl!” He beamed back at her. “You’re gonna love this! They’re so fluffy and they’re gonna let us give them some eucalyptus leaves, and have as many koala hugs as we want-“

His words stopped short, as well as his footsteps, much like Y/N did at the entrance to the reptile cave.

She stopped along side him, raising a brow at him, “Mike? What’s wrong?”

He gave her no reply, his eyes locked on a single figure ahead of him.

She turned her eyes to see what had him in such a state of fear, only to be met with a single kangaroo.

“Holy shit, they are bigger than I expected,” his voice trailed off, causing a laugh to fall from Y/N’s lips.

“I thought you said you went toe-to-toe with a kangaroo when you were little?” She was now the one to smirk, crossing her arms in a sarcastic way.

“Okay,” he huffed, “I lied. And now I don’t want to go near it because it looks really scary so let’s just run in this direction.”

Before she could protest, he had her sling over his shoulder and they were running in the direction of the much awaited koala exhibit.

Maybe Y/N would enjoy her time in Australia more than she thought. Especially with Michael by her side.

#michael clifford #5sos #michael clifford x reader #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum hood #5 seconds of summer #requested #australia #aussie #holly is so un-australian so she probably did this really badly but sorry!!! #im only good at songfics #even then im pretty bad!

[shawnsorangeglasses]

Better Conversations - Part 8

3.7k words

Look who finally decided to post!

Synopsis: Another assistant AU, you’ve known Shawn since the beginning but you don’t really become friends until a label party in New York. Then he offers you a job as his assistant.

Some after show tension occurs.

warnings: mild woes

...

Six hours until showtime. It is all hands on deck for everyone in the stage crew. Busy bodies move about the arena, putting together final touches for tonight’s performance. The tour is a little over thirty shows in. Since joining in the middle of it all, (Y/N) is finally starting to get the hang of things. Andrew made it clear that Shawn was her only priority, but with the new extra hours in the day, she tries to do for anyone on the team whenever she can.

She’s coming back from a local deli in the area with three paper bags full of food for Shawn and the band. Sandwiches for the band and salad for Shawn. A singer’s diet, though sometimes he’d cheat and get a small something dairy or doughy. They hardly ever request anything for lunch, but she always picked up something for them anyways, knowing they wouldn’t eat until much later.

As she walked down the sidewalk, she took note of the growing line of bubbly fans waiting out front. Every single one of them looked so sweet and pretty. A few girls wave to her as she passes by and she waves back.

After some time, she became closer and more at ease with the Mendes Army. A majority of them demanded that she make an account on Instagram to see her and Shawn interacting behind the scenes. Eventually, (Y/N) caved and made one separate from her personal profile one after about three days of them pushing Shawn about it. The account gained 100,000 followers in roughly two hours.

She cut through the alley to find the back door that leads to the main stage. It was really interesting to see the crew slowly build the set from the ground up every night. Earlier in the day, the sounds of metal barriers clanging and loud machinery filled the arena from top to bottom, but now it was mostly quiet aside from the well-practiced sound check from the band. Shawn and the guys were onstage doing last minute rehearsals. (Y/N) jogged across the general admissions floor, squeezing through the barrier to meet them stage left.

She hoisted the bags up onto the stage, peering over in silence as the guys practiced. Shawn was sat on the edge of the stage next to one of the larger amps, kicking his boots to the beat Mike was drumming. (Y/N) could tell from the baby blue guitar on his lap that they were running through “Nervous” again.

The musicians drop everything and run over to her in a huddle to claim their food. “I got you guys the fresh stuff. Fruit salads and some sub sandwiches.”

“Thank you, (Y/N)!”

“Yeah, thanks (Y/N).”

They each disperse to their own little corners. Shawn is still hunched over his guitar testing chords. (Y/N) saunters over to him, jostling a separate bag near his feet. “No tomatoes this time, Mendes,” she sings.

Shawn snaps back into reality again. The first thing he sees is (Y/N)’s proud, squinty smile. Last time she brought him a salad with the tiny tomatoes in it and he still hasn’t forgiven her completely. It’s become an inside joke for them.

He crosses his arms at her, giving a new definition to the muscle shirt he was sporting. “You sure there’s no tomatoes?”

“I’m absolutely positive. I checked six times on the walk back here. It's like 50% avocado.”

He slides his guitar safely behind himself and holds his hand out to her. (Y/N) takes secure hold of his wrist as her hauls her up on the stage with him in one swift motion. She watches intently as Shawn empties the contents of the paper bag. He briefly bumps his head into her shoulder, giving (Y/N)’s hand access to the tufts of hair falling on his forehead.

“Y’know, you don’t have to get us lunch if we don’t order anything,” he reiterates. “It only comes out of your pocket then.”

“I know, I know, but you guys workout in the morning and then keep moving, so you should all eat something. Besides,” she pinches his cheek, “you’re still a growing boy.”

“You sound like a mom.” Before he takes a bite, he asks, “What’re you going to eat?”

“Oh I filled up on free samples at the deli.” (Y/N) pats her belly. “I should be good until dinnertime.”

“Nice,” Shawn chuckles.

(Y/N) looks past his shoulder at all the guys chatting over their meals near center stage. “Don’t you want to eat with the other boys?”

“Ah, I’ve been around them all day. I haven’t seen you at all.”

(Y/N) refrains letting that last part go to her head. He didn’t mean it like that, even if a teensy part of her wishes he did.

“Well there’s always the time in hotels.”

Oddly enough, most of their hours were spent apart now. Shawn was either hard at work with the band and writers or catching up on sleep. (Y/N) often had errands to run when she wasn’t tending to Shawn. Even on the tour bus and flights, he needed those hours to rest.

Time in the hotels was the saving grace of this whole journey, Shawn always unabashedly requested to have the room next door to (Y/N) now. “For proximity purposes” he claimed, so that he might have her nearby in case he needs something. And although it may have started out that way, it quickly turned into late night talks and occasionally eating whatever singer-safe snacks (Y/N) could buy from local stores. It became their own little tradition.

“That reminds me,” Shawn says through a mouthful of sandwich, “what are we doing tonight?”

“Whatever you want to do,” (Y/N) mutters. She wasn’t really paying attention. Cez just sent her a text about the next flight details. She sort of zones out looking at the emails. Words become letters. Letters become squiggles. It’s hard to concentrate since the brush with Jason a few weeks ago. She was used to his empty threats but that was when she had leverage. Now she has nothing to hold him, not even shame.

Then Shawn nudges her elbow, but she hardly looks away from her phone.

“Huh?”

“We’re doing dinner later this evening. I know you don’t normally join but- hey are you okay? You look really pale.”

(Y/N) takes her time to meet his eyes. They appear to transition to a darker, more intimidating shade of brown. Her stomach does four backflips.

“Yeah just thinking. You know, assistant stuff. Listen, I gotta go.”

“Oh. Already?”

(Y\N) gets to her feet and dusts off the seat of her pants. “Yes, already. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go help set up the Q&A, sir?”

Shawn wags a finger at her. “What did I say about the ‘sir’ thing?”

“Sorry. Force of habit.”

He gets up too, wearing a smile so bright it’s blinding. A bright red blush tears through the pigment in his cheeks. He just wanted to keep talking to her as long as he could, waste no time. Unfortunately, he ends up thinking of the most basic question of all. “Thanks for the sandwich.”

She shrugs. “Just doing my job.”

...

Parents and young adults filed into the room, filling it with conversational buzz. (Y/N) peeked through a slit in the curtain at the little community that gathered there. One group of girls in the very front started singing “Never Be Alone”, prompting everyone else to join in. It was amazing to see the love and devotion among so many different looking people.

(Y/N) goes to collect Shawn from the green room. The clock on her phone read about ten minutes before he had to go greet everyone again. He’s in the middle of pulling up his jeans when she walks in.

“Oh you’re- I am so sorry.” She turns around and brings her hand over her eyes. Blood furiously rushes to her cheeks and ears.

“No no, you’re fine, come on in. Sorry, I’m almost done.”

She steps in with caution and focuses on the upbeat country track faintly pouring from Shawn’s phone. Travelling so closely together, (Y/N) was bound to see a few people at their less than decent. With Shawn though, it was starting to feel like he was doing this on purpose or just stopped caring altogether. She had no choice but to get comfortable with him.

“God, Shawn. Maybe put a sign outside next time so I know you’re naked.”

“I am not naked.” He glances at her. She’s propped herself  against an end table, still shielding her eyes. “Geez, you act like you’ve never seen me in my underwear.”

“Don’t say underwear to me.”

“Would it help if I sang it?”

“No it would not-”

“Underwear,” he riffs. “Underwe-e-ear, yeah.”

“You’re so annoying,” she chuckles nervously with a slight shake of her head. He beams, proud of himself for yet again finding a new way to gently embarrass (Y/N).

He’s referring to the time she accidentally walked on Shawn in his dressing room. It was weeks ago, early on in a completely different city, but it was also burned into the back of her brain. That definitely broke some of the initial ice between them.

(Y/N) chooses the brick wall as something else to focus on. She hears his footsteps getting closer. Out of her peripheral, she can see Shawn’s shirt is still very unbuttoned and his chest is very exposed. He’s almost closed the space between them, leaving only a few inches of air between their bodies.

“You’re standing in front of my cologne,” he mutters.

“Oh.”

(Y/N) side steps out of his way. Shawn takes the bottle and sprays his neck and wrists, not once taking his eyes off of her. That is until he has to return to the other side of the room to button up his shirt. He leaves a couple buttons free at the top like always, then pays special attention to her reflection in the glass, holding his arms out. “How do I look?”

(Y/N) looks over at Shawn. He’s looking at her through the full length mirror mounted on the wall. She rolls her eyes.

“You know how you look.”

Shawn peers at her reflection, then bites his lip. (Y/N) pinches her wrists behind her back.

“Except for one thing,” she says. She takes notice of his lopsided collar and quickly adjusts it for him. Shawn’s breath hitches just barely. His hands are idle at his waist, not really doing anything, but clearly so desperately wanting to touch her. (Y/N) actively pretends to not notice the effect she seems to have on him.

But Shawn captures (Y/N)’s hand in his right before she pulls off, resting it on his shoulder. The fabric is hot underneath her palm. His whole body has become a furnace. He’s about to say something bold. Or stupid.

“(Y/N) I-”

A knock at the door propels Shawn and (Y/N) away from each other. Cez appears in the doorway.

“Oh you’re both in here,” he says with a playful smile. “You ready, Shawn?”

“Y-yeah,” Shawn makes a few more unnecessary tucks of shirt into his jeans. He turns back to (Y/N), “D’you want to come watch?”

“Uhm, I’ll be behind the curtain. I can see everything from there.”

Shawn understood, but he couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. (Y/N) tugs at his shirt around the waistline to loosen the fit again right before he goes out. “I’ll be right behind you, I promise,” she assures him. “If you need anything I will bring it to you.”

"Anything?"

"Right, almost anything."

Shawn smirks. "Just checking," he purrs.

They venture down the hall to the common area that was built in less than an hour. (Y/N) stops just short of where the dimly lit hallway ends and a room full of people begins. Screams and cheers replaced the chatter the minute Shawn set foot in the room. He can barely be heard greeting them over all the excitement. (Y/N) peeks through a sliver in the curtain.

“Before we start,” he begins. “What am I calling this city tonight?”

The room erupts again with all sorts of answers. Shawn singles out one girl in the front and everyone agrees.

“Okay then, um just one thing, if someone’s asking a question please don’t speak over them and speak loud so I can hear you. This is a big group today. Other than that, go crazy.”

Hands go up instantly. Shawn chooses from the back then from the left middle. On and on this goes for a few minutes and the fans ask the usual questions, fun or otherwise. (Y/N) allows herself to relax. Her mind just goes elsewhere.

She’s imagining the last day of the tour, sad as it makes her. Will she still be an assistant when it’s all over? What will have changed by then? She looks at nothing in particular down the makeshift hallway the team has made in the arena. Connor's messing with his camera settings. Cez is talking to a lighting tech. And like she always does in her free time, she zones out.

“Where’s (Y/N) right now?”

The voice, though small, came with a level of conviction that could only be from a small child. That was the demographic of (Y/N)'s fans. They liked seeing her on the street. She's even received a few drawings in past weeks.

Shawn wrestles with himself to give a straight answer. Then he makes the mistake of looking back at the curtain. People start to become restless.

“Guys, guys, I’m sure she’s busy right now. I don’t want to bother her.”

“I’m not that busy,” (Y/N) blurts impulsively, much louder than she meant to. Everyone erupts in chatter. She looks back at Connor, who has the camera aimed at her now. He was getting a shot between slit in the curtain but now the focus has shifted. She peeks her head out at all the fans and Shawn. A collective gasp captures them and they begin waving so she waves back. All the bright happy faces are reassuring enough.

“Do you want to come out,” Shawn whispers as quietly as he can. A few girls in the front overhear and squeak.

She widens her eyes at him. He knew what she was saying. You really want me to come out here? And the answer was a resounding yes, as indicated by a brisk wave of his hand. (Y/N) peeks her head out and all but recoils at the enthusiastic and sudden attention she receives. Then it all died down just as it quickly came.

“Hi, (Y/N),” says the same little voice that asked for her. Everyone in the aws.

“Hello,” she replies. “I remember seeing a few of you outside in the line. Sorry to interrupt.”

“She actually bought everyone lunch today during rehearsal even though I told her she doesn’t have to,” Shawn adds. Someone in the back goes “whoop” and the whole room is brimming with laughter and applause again.

“Okay I better go,” (Y/N) says immediately. “That’s enough fun for me.” She slips behind the curtain again, waving behind her as a few more people say goodbye.

Connor's snapping his viewfinder back into place behind her. He shares a look with her that can only be that

"Can I use any of that?"

"Sure, dude. It's your footage."

She says so each and every time he asks. Connor always made very sure to protect (Y/N)'s privacy when it came to recording her. If she was in the background of any video, he'd make sure to ask. It's what made him a great videographer.

He scurries away to whatever room holds his editing equipment. (Y/N) slides down to the floor, resting back on her heels so she can still see through the partition. Shawn's still somewhat rambling about her to his fans. It's interesting to hear what she is to him through his eyes. Often times she leaves the Q&A as soon as it's been set up. Under these special circumstances, she stays a while, hoping to learn something new.

…

It's evening. The hotel room is the neat chaos (Y/N) left it when she comes back. She learned several cities back never to spread out too much in these rooms after leaving a few chargers in the walls and drinks in the mini fridges.

"We'll go back and get it," Shawn said the first time it happened. "Can we turn around," he politely asked the driver.

"I'll answer that, no we will not," (Y/N) said firmly. "It's like two little bottles of kombucha. I'll live Shawn." It was never mentioned again.

He was always going out of his way for her. Everybody found it endearing, but (Y/N) didn't want him doing any special favors for her. Their relationship was special enough without grand gestures.

She fishes her planner out of the messenger bag on her bed to go over the next week at the hotel desk. Her sister's birthday is today. (Y/N) checks the timezone on her phone. There was still time to call.

The line rings for a while then cuts into an excited voice.

"Hey girl! Mom was wondering when you'd call. She's sleeping now."

(Y/N)'s heart drops to her stomach. "Bea I'm so sorry, I haven't said happy birthday to you all day. I feel awful."

"Aw you know I don't care about that shit. But bitch, Mom made this cake, you are missing out. I'm trying to save you some."

"I don't know if that slice will be edible by the time I get back, but thanks for the effort."

"You know I'm looking out for you around here." Bea sighs. "Girl I wish you were here. It's boring as hell with no one to tell my jokes. Or argue with."

(Y/N) smiles to herself. Bea always got bored by herself. They were lucky to grow up close in grade school, so they always had a playmate at recess or someone to talk to at lunch.

"What're you up to?"

"Same thing I was up to yesterday. Watching these Game of Thrones episodes."

"Did you make another fake HBO account?"

"Yep, but honestly a week is not enough for a free trial. Netflix gives you a whole month."

She goes on about her other temporary subscriptions. A knock comes at her door, the one joining her room to Shawn's.

"Hold that thought Bea. I think Shawn is going to ask me to come to dinner again."

"He what now?"

She swings the door open. "Not that kind, dumbass."

Shawn smirks at the little nickname, knowing right away it wasn't meant for him. Sure enough, he's dressed to go out.

"Your sister," he whispers. (Y/N) nods. "Hi Beatrice."

"Hi Shawn! I swear, only that man can make my full name sound good. Bitch, if you don't want him, I will gladly have some."

"I have never been more glad that he can't hear you," (Y/N) mutters. Shawn smiles downwards. He's only talked to Bea once before, so he can definitely imagine what she's saying.

"You're selfish, is what you are. The man clearly wants you and you're being your usual self."

"I'm ignoring you." (Y/N) directs her attention to Shawn's hopeful face. He’s propped himself against the door frame too, hands in his pockets. Between her waiting on his question, and him waiting for her to say no was a deafening silence.

"I know what you're going to ask,” she starts. “You know how I'll respond."

"Well in that case, I’m not going either," he says, undoing some buttons.

"He said what?!"

"I'm going to hang up on you," (Y/N) warns. She leans on the door frame as he sheds his shirt and shoes. "Shawn, you don't have to stay for me."

"I'm not," he says calmly. "Honestly, I’m doing this for me."

"If you don't let that man love you right now, idiot sister of mine-"

"Bea, I'll call you later. Happy Birthday."

(Y/N) taps the end call button. One last text comes through, almost too vulgar to read, so she shuts her phone off before Shawn can see it. He’s milling around his room, looking for comfortable clothes among the scattered ones.

“Shawn you don’t have to stay here on my account.”

“Well I’m not going to have any fun without you there.”

Shawn pulls his undershirt off over his head. Muscles in his back flex and relax as his arms go up and down. (Y/N) clears her throat, to which he doesn’t react. Tour life has made him so comfortable with clothing changes, he doesn’t always think twice with another person in the room. At the very least, he warns somebody when his pants are about to come off.

“That’s really unfair to everyone else, isn’t it?”

“Not in that way. I mean I’ll just be there the whole time wondering why-”

He stops himself short, ending with a mumble.

(Y/N) crosses her arms. “If this is your way of guilt tripping me or tricking me into saying yes-”

“It’s not,” he says, almost in a corrective way. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Don’t you know that?”

She doesn’t. She wasn’t sure of anything at all when it came to her employer’s intentions. People often cross you because that’s the nature of the business. Trust wasn’t something she gave so easily to someone with that much power over her. Normally, (Y/N) knew when to leave a job that no longer suited her, but Shawn has yet to give her a reason to run.

Shawn picks up a white t-shirt from his suitcase and slips it on. He doesn’t normally wear a shirt to sleep, but he wanted (Y/N) to feel as comfortable as possible. Although she’d never admit it out loud, he’s noticed how she gets around him shirtless. He sits down on his bed and beckons her to sit next to him. (Y/N) takes baby steps to his bedside and sinks into the soft sheets.

“You should at least tell Cez you’re not coming,” she insists.

“I already did.” Shawn waves his phone then sets it on the nightstand. “Right now, I need to talk to you.”

...

TAGLIST:

@spider-mendes @sebsdreamboat @innositer @sauveteen @sauveteen @sinplisticshawn @sohani02 @yourkidsfavbabysitter @matchamendes @gxccicoffee @daisychains4 @nervousaroundmendes @st3p-hani3 @rulerofnocountry @darloing-shawn @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @cheerfulmendes @imaginesofdreams @thesmutpeasant @enchantingbrowneyedgirl

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes imagine #better conversations

[maluminspace]

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Calum Hood/Michael Clifford

Word Count: 3.4k

Requested: @calumsmermaid​

A thought: Professors!Malum are supervising the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, reminiscing on all the dates they had there when they were each a young Ravenclaw (Mike) and Puff (Cal). Also some pining because after a couple years of teaching old sparks are starting to reignite but neither of them have said anything about it. 🥺 

Includes: Pining, mutual pining, mild sexual content

A/N: This was a really great request, Lauren. I enjoyed writing it so much! I hope you like it :)

***

Autumn was in full swing. The large trees lining the path between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were already filled with leaves made up of a multitude of different rich red and gold colours. As Calum walked amongst them, he admired the way they drifted away from their branches and swirled around him in the light breeze. 

The Charms professor always enjoyed supervising these weekend trips, but today felt extra special somehow. That was partly down to the perfect fall weather. After all, the way that the weak morning sunshine filtered through the branches, scattering pretty shadows across the leaf-strewn ground made for a very pretty view. Laughter filling the air around him and the carefree chatter of students enjoying a rare taste of freedom from school, also added to Calum’s particularly good mood. 

As much as all of those things lifted his spirits, Calum had to admit that none of the were the main reason for the smile that seemed to have unconsciously graced his face. No, the key factor in that was walking alongside him, rambling passionately about how his new lesson plans were proving to be a success. 

“...And I’m just really excited to see how my new fifth year students react with the thestrals.” Michael grinned, “I know it must be weird for the ones that can’t see them but it’ll be interesting to see!”

Calum sort of hated himself for not having listened properly to his colleague. He’d been too busy daydreaming. It wasn’t because he was bored, he just couldn’t help remembering his own time as a student. He’d been an eager young Hufflepuff back then, ready to take on the world. There’d been times that he’d felt invincible, like nothing could ever stop him from achieving whatever goals he set for himself. One of those times was during his final two years as a Hogwarts student. Those were the years that he’d been lucky enough to call Michael, the cheeky Ravenclaw he’d been in love with since his first day of school, his boyfriend. 

“Sorry, I’m rambling.” The blonde man mumbles, awkwardly pulling his robes a little tighter around his waist. 

Things had been getting a little tense between the two of them lately. It’s been two years since they’d both come back to Hogwarts as professors of their favourite subjects. It’d been strange at first, having not seen each other for years prior to the welcome dinner on that first night of school. Their break up at the end of their 7th year had been emotional to say the least. Neither of them had really wanted to seperate but the career paths they’d chosen were very different at the time. Michael had wanted to travel the world studying every magical creature known to wizarding kind, just like Newt Scamander. Calum’s dreams, on the other hand, had stretched no further than the Ministry of Magic in London. They’d discussed trying out a long distance relationship but had ultimately decided that it wasn’t fair on either of them, particularly when Michael was bound to be uncontactable for certain periods of time if he was busy tracking dangerous animals around remote parts of the planet.

To distract himself from the heartbreak, Calum had thrown himself into applying for every job vacancy that the Ministry posted. He hadn’t really cared what area of the Wizarding Government he worked in and had initially been over the moon when he landed a position in the 

Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. He’d worked in the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad for three years before the current head of Hogwarts had approached him to offer him the job of Charms Professor. Despite loving his job in the ministry, he couldn’t very well pass up such a rare opportunity and he’d found out later that Michael had a very similar story regarding his appointment as Care of Magical Creatures Professor that same year. 

It kind of felt like fate had thrown them back together, somehow. Two vacancies becoming available at Hogwarts in one year was very rare in itself, so the odds of them being for the two subjects that Michael and Calum specialised in was, at best, extremely improbable.

“Don’t be sorry.” Calum replied, a soft smile curling the corners of his lips. “I’m really happy that your new lesson plans are working out so well.”

“But you wish I’d talk about something else.” Michael giggled, his eyes scrunching in the corners adorably. “You don’t change, Hood. You still have that glazed over look in your eye when you get bored of a conversation. You can’t lie to me.” His tone is undeniably fond as he bumps Calum’s shoulder playfully with his own. 

Calum scoffs. “It’s Professor Hood now, actually. Besides, I’d never dream of even trying to lie to you! You know me too well.”

His words were completely true. He couldn’t really think of another person on earth that knows him as well as Michael does. Despite the years they’d spent apart, the two of them still shared a seemingly indestructible bond. In fact, it was becoming harder and harder for Calum to deny that his old feelings were resurfacing with a vengeance. Michael hadn’t really changed a lot, he was still kind, loving, funny and not to mention that he’d actually gotten even more beautiful since their years as students.

“That’s true.” Michael beamed, watching Calum with those pretty green eyes that constantly seemed to have mischievous glint in them. “So are you going to tell me what you were thinking about whilst I was rambling about my students and animals?”

A slight blush coloured Calum’s cheeks as he shrugged. There was no point in denying that his mind had wondered, but he didn’t want to be too honest about the thoughts that had been fogging his mind “This just brings back some nice memories I guess.” He replied, gesturing to the little knot of buildings looming ever larger ahead of them. “We used to love our Hogsmeade dates, didn’t we?”

Michael’s expression became an odd mix of fondness and sadness. Calum was also sure that there was a hint of longining in the blonde’s eyes, but he didn’t want to kid himself into thinking that Michael still cared for him in the same way he had done back then. “We did.” The former-Ravenclaw sighed. “Remember the time we tried to sneak off into the woods to make out?”

Calum laughed at the memory as he nodded. “We got detention for like a week…” He recalled fondly. 

“Yeah…” Michael muttered, his cheeks slowly heating up to match the pinkness of Calum’s. “We never did finish cleaning all of those potion bottles, huh?”

The Charms professor giggled cheekily, resisting the urge to say anything that might alert Michael to the fact that he missed those times more than he could ever say. “Do you think our professor ever realised what we were really doing in those store cupboards?”

Michael’s blush deepened even further, his gaze focused straight ahead where most of their students were starting filter off in different directions as they reached the edge of the village. “I think we’d have gotten into even bigger trouble, if they had ever worked it out.”

There was no doubt about that. Calum had often wondered just how badly they’d have been punished if a professor had walked in to check up on them, only to find Michael pinned against the shelves with Calum pressed against him, their hands tucked down each other’s trousers as they panted into desperate kisses. He had to try hard to shake that thought from his head before speaking again. “Yeah, you’re right there…”

A slightly uneasy silence settled over them as they reached the edge of Hogsmeade. Calum couldn’t help hoping that Michael was thinking about one of their intimate moments as well. There really was something rather nostalgic about taking this walk together and he wasn’t sure just how much longer he could pretend that he only wanted to be Michael’s friend.

“We used to go to Zonko’s first, every time we came here, do you remember?” Michael asked, pointing down the high street towards the magical joke shop. “We must have spent a small fortune in that shop over the years.” 

“Yeah, we must have.” Calum agreed. “Shall we go and see if it’s changed much?” 

Michael nodded enthusiastically, walking with a little added spring in his step as he made his way through the crowds. It really did feel as though the Charms Professor had been transported back in time, watching his excitable sixteen-year-old boyfriend weaving through the masses of wizards littering the street to get to the joke shop. 

When the blonde man came to a stop outside of Zonko’s to take a look at the magical window display, Calum almost bumped into him, but just about managed to avoid a collision. They stood side by side for a long moment, giggling at the display of nose biting teacups as they repeatedly attacked a moving manikin. Realising just how close he was standing to his fellow professor, Calum felt his fingers twitch towards the back of Michael’s hand, almost of their own accord. When they finally made contact with the blonde’s cool skin, Calum had to suppress a gasp as a familiar sensation, similar to a jolt of electricity shot up his arms, causing his pulse to race in his chest. Judging by the startled look on Michael’s face as they met each other’s gaze in the reflection in the window, the Care of Magical Creatures professor experienced an identical shock. 

Michael glanced around at the crowd of students as though he was worried they’d have noticed something happening between their professors. “Shall we go somewhere a bit quieter?” He asked, a shy quality to his voice. 

Calum nodded, even though he was sure he was about to be subjected to a tedious conversation about how the two of them can never be more than friends ever again. He allowed Michael to lead them off the high street into a slightly less busy one. It didn’t take long for the marginally younger man to work out where they were headed. He decided against saying anything out loud, but his suspicions are confirmed when the garish pink exterior of Madam Poodifoot’s Tea Room looms into view just ahead of them. The tiny cafe had never been that popular with Hogwarts students due to its old fashioned decor and the distinct lack of butterbeer sold there. Calum’s always quite liked it though. He and Michael used to snuggle up together at a table near the window, drinking hot chocolate and chatting for hours, comparing their purchases from Zonko’s, Honeydukes and Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. 

The familiar tinkle of the bell above the door announced their arrival as Michael swung open the old pink wooden door. Unsurprisingly, the tea room was fairly empty. The elderly waitress that Calum recognised from back in his school days, looked up from a teacup he was drying and smiled at them brightly. “Hello boys.” She beamed. “Haven’t seen you two in a long time. Don’t you both teach at Hogwarts now?”

“You remember us?” Calum asked, shocked by this revelation. 

The waitress nodded. “I never forget a face, dear.” She stated plainly. “Your old table is available, if you want to take a seat, I’ll bring you a menu over.”

Calum had already made a few steps towards the table when he realised Michael wasn’t following him.

“Thanks, but I don’t think we need a menu.” The slightly older man said, causing Calum to turn around to face him again. “We’ll just have our usual won’t we, jellybean?”

Calum was caught off guard by the use of his old pet name. Michael had fondly given it to him on their first ‘date’. They’d sat by the Black Lake with some snacks and Calum had brought along a few muggle treats that he thought Michael would enjoy, having had very little experience outside of the wizarding world. He’d particularly enjoyed the jellybeans, giggling that their name was funny and cute, just like Calum. 

The two men locked eyes, unsure of what to say now that Michael had, seemingly by accident, thrown their whole equilibrium off. 

The blonde man looked seconds away from a breakdown as he opened his mouth, presumably to apologise. 

Calum couldn’t bear the thought of Michael saying sorry for using a pet name he’d loved so much. In a split second decision he held his hand out to Michael and smiled, albeit shakily. “Of course, pumpkin.” He replied before forcing himself to look over at the waitress. “Two hot chocolates, please, with extra whipped cream and sprinkles.” He ordered, trying to keep his voice even as Michael took his outstretched hand. 

The elderly lady smiled almost knowingly before bustling off behind the counter to fix their drinks.

Calum still felt kind of shell shocked but having Michael’s hand in his again felt so right. He led the way over to the table by the window that they always used to claim as theirs, his heart thudding in his chest like a bass drum. 

“Cal.” Michael whispered when they reached the table and the younger man reluctantly let go of his hand so that they could sit down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t apologise.” Calum shrugged, trying to sound calm and reasonable. “I’ve always loved when you called me that.”

For  a moment it seemed as though Michael might continue trying to apologise. He still looked a little embarrassed and Calum hated that. “I just… Well it kind of slipped out, I guess this place sort of…”

“I know.” Calum cut him off gently, gesturing to the seat that Michael always used to occupy. “You don’t have to explain to me, Mikey.”

The Charms teacher’s words didn’t seem to have the soothing effect that he’d hoped they would. Michael continued to give off an air of anticipation and anxiety as he took his seat and immediately started staring out of the window.

If he was going to get their comfortable atmosphere back, Calum had to act fast. He reached across the table to place his hand over Michael’s. Part of him wanted to confess that he was still in love, that his heart would probably always belong to Michael and that he could do what he pleased with it. That conversation could possibly end very badly, though, and Calum wanted to enjoy this time with Michael, even if it meant keeping his deepest secret buried forever. He couldn’t entirely change the subject, that would feel forced and he wouldn’t be able to concentrate properly anyway. Instead he found what he hoped was an acceptable and comfortable middle ground. “Remember the time that we suggested Luke bring his date here in our final year?” He asked, smiling mischievously as he recalled the disastrous afternoon. “We came in here to spy on him just in time to see him spill the tea in her lap.”

Michael laughed, his green eyes sparkling beautifully. “She called him a clumsy troll but they still ended up going on a second date.”

“Only because Ashton sent him a letter with a long list of do’s and don'ts for dating to get things back on track.” Calum replied, stroking over Michael’s knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

“Oh yeah!” The blonde exclaimed delightedly. “I’d forgotten about that… I swear those two made dating look like hard work. We never needed anything like that.”

It was true, of course. Dating Michael had been as easy as breathing. Every development in their relationship had felt like a natural progression and despite the odd spatt created by stress or typical teenage jealousy, their two years together were pretty damn near perfect.

“Do you still hear from Luke and Ashton much?” Calum asked, eager to keep the conversation flowing, even though the ache in his chest was starting to reach an unbearable level. 

Michael nodded, smiling faintly. “They both write to me quite a lot, Luke came to visit me over the Summer, too. Ashton said he’d try and get back to England for Christmas so we could have a meet up. Do you still talk to them?”

“Not as much as I’d like.” Calum replies, “Ashton did mention that meet up at Christmas in his last letter, though.”

Luckily the waitress chose that moment to bring over their hot chocolates, saving Calum the bother of trying to muster up another subject change. “Enjoy, my dears.” She chimed, offering them both a fond smile before heading back to her task of drying teacups.

“Wow these look just as good as I remember.” Michael beamed, taking hold of the handle of his mug with his free hand, seemingly reluctant to break contact with Calum.

Equally as disinclined to take his hand away from Michael’s, Calum lifted his own mug with his other hand. The hot chocolate tasted every bit as delicious as he remembered, the whipped cream and sprinkles on the top adding just the right amount of flavour. 

The two men were enveloped in a noticeable silence for a moment. It wasn’t exactly tense or uncomfortable but it definitely felt significant somehow. It was broken, however, when Michael lowered his mug to reveal a tiny blob of cream on the end of his nose that made Calum giggle. “You never change…” He declared delightedly, placing down his own mug so that he could reach over and wipe the little white smudge away with the tip of his thumb. “You always used to get cream on your nose when we were kids.”

Michael’s eyes sparkled with a playfulness that Calum hadn’t seen in a long time. “Yeah, but when we were kids, you wouldn’t just have wiped it off with your finger. You always used to kiss it off, remember?”

The Charms teacher gave a wistful little smile as he nodded. “Of course I remember. You always used to blush, no matter how many times I did it.”

Without uttering another word, Michael took another sip of his drink, holding Calum’s gaze over his mug the entire time. When he lowered it another globule of whipped cream was perched on the tip of his nose.

Calum rolled his eyes fondly. Of course this would be Michael’s way of trying to see whether their old spark was still there. “You did that on purpose.” He accused light heartedly. 

“Oh no… did I do it again?” Michael asked, feigning innocence. “You’re not allowed to use your hands to get it this time.”

A whole flurry of butterflies seemed to fill Calum’s tummy as he silently agreed to Michael’s only condition. He slowly leaned forwards until he was close enough to the flecks of every different shade of green in Michael’s eyes. Not wanting to turn the sweet gesture into anything more meaningful without Michael’s clear say-so, Calum simply pursed his lips and gently sucked the cream from the tip of Michael’s nose. He backed up just enough to see the familiar pink tinge appear in the blonde’s cheeks before Michael caught Calum’s face gently in one cupped hand. “You used to always give me a kiss on the lips afterwards, I’d hate for us to break tradition.” He whispered, tilting his head ever-so-slightly to create the perfect angle for kissing.

 Without hesitation, Calum closed the tiny gap between them, placing a soft gently kiss to Michael’s lips as requested. It felt even better than it used to when they were kids. Their hormonal lust and vague understanding of love had been enough back then, but they were wiser and more experienced in life now. The fact that they still felt as though they fit together perfectly, was even more significant in adulthood. 

Michael sighed blissfully as they pulled apart, giving Calum the impression that the blonde had been aching for that kiss as much as he had. “I really missed you.” Michael smiled bashfully, “I know we’ve been friends for a couple of years again now but… I still missed you.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Calum replied, stroking Michael’s cheek gently with his finger tips. “This feels like it’s how we’re meant to be, doesn’t it?”

Michael nodded, leaning into Calum’s touch. “We’ve been slow to realise it, but I know we’ll have a lot of fun making up for lost time.”

As they closed in for another kiss, Calum had absolutely no doubt that Michael was right.

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#malum #5sos #5 seconds of summer #malum blurb #malum fic #5sos blurb #5sos fic #professor!michael #professor!calum #malum fluff #soft!malum #soft!michael #soft!calum #5sos fluff #my writing #hogwarts!sos #calumsmermaid

[klaineanummel]

looking for something that’ll (never) come 1/6

Blaine Anderson-Chang knows that his crush on his brother’s best friend, straight football star Kurt Hummel, is foolhardy. But every now and then Kurt gives him a look and Blaine can’t help but wonder.

Hey everyone!! Welcome to my newest fic :D This is a fic I’ve been wanting to write for ages, and am finally getting around to hehe it’s a fill for a prompt on the Glee Prompt Meme (link on AO3 and in the sidebar). This fic is complete, and I’m hoping to post it in its entirety over the course of the next two weeks or so. Hope you enjoy!! 

Title from I’ve Been Waiting by Lil Peep

Blaine doesn’t have to be looking at Tina to hear the eye roll in the, “Oh my god,” she lets out when she pulls up in front of Blaine’s house.

Blaine forces his eyes away from the black Escalade parked next to his driveway, turning to his friend with a, “What?”

Tina sighs, leaning her forearms on the wheel. “Blaine.”

“What?” Blaine repeats, knowing he sounds totally unconvincing in his confusion. He knows he sat up a little straighter when he’d seen the car, and he can’t remember doing it but he’s pretty sure he did that little excited wiggle that Tina and Sam are always making fun of him for.

He’s never claimed to be a subtle person.

“Just… chill, okay?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m chill.”

Tina raises an eyebrow. “You did the wiggle, pal.”

Yep, there it is. “Maybe I’m just excited to be home. Not have to see you anymore today.” He sticks his tongue out as he says it, hoping it will distract her.

This time he does see her roll her eyes. “Sure, Blaine. Whatever you say.”

He sighs, moving his messenger bag strap onto his shoulder and clutching it tight in his lap. He opens the door and sets one foot on the sidewalk. Then, he turns back to her and says, “It’s not because of Kurt.”

She frowns in faux-confusion. “I didn’t say anything about Kurt.”

He groans, and fully steps out of the car. He doesn’t close the door just yet, though, instead leaning against the top of it so he can still see Tina. “Thank you for driving me home.”

“Thank you for helping me pick out my prom dress,” she replies, still staring at him completely unimpressed. She glances past him, to his house, then looks back at him and says, “Text me later, okay?”

He snorts. It’s one of the things he loves most about Tina – she may give him shit, but at the end of the day she lives for the drama. No matter how much she disapproves of his crush, he knows he can always go to her with all the sordid details of whatever minute interaction he is overthinking. It’s great. Like having both the devil and the angel on his shoulder wrapped up in one person.

“You know I will,” he says, winking at her. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Blaine,” she wiggles her fingers as he finally shuts the door.

He heads up to his house, pulling out his keys and turning briefly to give Tina a final wave goodbye as she drives away. He then takes a deep breath and unlocks the door.

The first thing he hears is the sound of the TV from the living room, just a little louder than he knows Mama J likes it. He takes off his outside shoes and slips into his slippers, setting his keys on the hook with his name written above it in Mama P’s neat script.

He decides to drop his things off in his room before braving the living room, so he hurries straight up the stairs. When he reaches the top, he hears a couple of voices saying, “Come on, come on,” followed by a loud cheer a few seconds later. He shakes his head, smiling to himself as he walks into his room.

He hangs up his messenger bag on his coatrack, then heads to his closet, opening the left door so he can see himself in the reflection.

He knows it’s stupid to be concerned about how he looks. Kurt has seen him stumbling out of the bathroom at 2 o’clock in the morning with toothpaste still smeared on his face. He was front and center for the inside-out sweater vest ordeal. He’s even seen Blaine without hair gel, for goodness sake.

Still, he can’t help it. He wants to look nice.

He wants Kurt to think he looks nice.

He fixes his hair a little bit, tucks his polo back into his jeans, and adjusts the cuffs of his jeans slightly. He looks himself over for a moment more, then nods approvingly and closes his closet door, heading back downstairs before he can work himself up too much.

He’s just reached the bottom of the stairs when he hears Mike call out, “Blaine? Is that you?”

Blaine heads to the living room, poking his head in as though he’s just stopping in on the way to the kitchen. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Their living room is full of teenage boys. Three on the couch, two on the loveseat, and Kurt, as always, lounging in the recliner. They all look up at him when he speaks, and Finn even graces him with a wave. Then, as soon as he had the eyes of six football players on him, he no longer does, the pull of the football game far too strong.

As subtly as he can, Blaine flicks his eyes over to where Kurt is sitting, leaned forward with his legs spread wide, elbows rested on his thighs. He’s still watching Blaine, smirking a little, and Blaine looks away quickly, already feeling a blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Hey,” Mike says, grinning at him. He scoots a little down on the couch, forcing Finn and Matt to squish together even more. “You wanna join us?”

Blaine glances at the TV, wrinkling his nose a little. He doesn’t really care for either of the teams playing, and as much as he’d love to be in the same room as Kurt for the next hour or so, he does have a lot of homework to do.

Plus, he’s been informed very indelicately by his friends that he is completely obvious about his crush, and he isn’t sure if he should put himself in a position of being caught staring at Kurt for an hour straight.

“I think I’ll pass for today, but thanks.”

“Aw, come on,” Kurt speaks up, still smirking, and Blaine’s heart skips a beat in his chest. “Bobcats, man. We’re destroying the Ravens.”

Blaine scrunches up his face a bit. “More of a college football guy, to be honest.”

“Dude, he said no,” Finn says, shoving Mike back over on the couch. “There isn’t really any room for him here anyway.”

“Yeah, cause you’re on here,” Mike replies, shoving Finn right back. “Besides, Blaine is small. You could fit two of him where you’re sitting.”

Finn just laughs, but Blaine finds himself blushing a little at that. Small isn’t exactly the word he wants his brother’s friends associating him with. Especially one of them.

“I got tons of room over here,” Kurt says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Now he’s definitely blushing, but he manages to hit back with, “Careful Kurt, I might take you up on that.”

A couple of the guys laugh, but Kurt just keeps watching him, smirk still firmly in place.

God, Blaine cannot figure him out.

Without saying anything else, Blaine removes his head from the living room and heads down to the kitchen. He immediately pulls out a glass and grabs some water from the fridge, sipping it slowly.

The thing is, he knows Kurt’s straight. It’s kind of the biggest reason that Sam and Tina give him so much shit over his crush. And he’s not just like, average straight, he’s really straight. Football player who dates cheerleaders straight. Drives an Escalade straight. Texts girls late at night asking if they’re up with the eggplant emoji straight.

But he also does things like stare at Blaine intensely whilst smirking. Or ask him to share a recliner that’s barely large enough for just Kurt. Or text him whenever he’s drunk, asking why he never comes to parties with Mike. Or get really annoyed when Blaine doesn’t come to one of their football games, and then really excited whenever he does.

He doesn’t want to be that guy that’s constantly wondering what if, especially since he’s specifically heard Kurt call himself heterosexual on multiple occasions and he really wants to respect that, but sometimes he can’t help it.

Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in him.

He sets his glass of water by the sink, then walks over to the cupboard Mama J always keeps stocked with junk food and pulls out a half-full pack of Oreos. He picks five out, then puts the pack back and leans against the counter, biting into the first one slowly.

“Yo, Mini AC.”

He looks up, eyes wide as Kurt walks into the kitchen. He has to force himself not to obviously check Kurt out, but it’s so hard because, damn, he had not noticed earlier exactly how tight the t-shirt Kurt is wearing is.

“Hey,” Blaine replies after swallowing the cookie in his mouth. Kurt walks right up to him until he’s leaning next to Blaine on the counter.

He grins down at Blaine, then reaches out and steals one of Blaine’s Oreos. It brings their bodies slightly closer, their hips now brushing together ever so slightly.

Blaine is pretty sure he’s no longer breathing.

“You’re weird, you know that?”

“Huh?” It comes out like an exhale of breath.

“Why do you always eat your snacks in the kitchen?” Kurt takes a bite out of his cookie. “A normal person,” he continues, mouth full of cookie, “would grab his snacks and,” he swallows, “take them up to his room. Or out into the living room, where his friends are.”

Blaine swallows thickly. “Well,” he says, tongue feeling thick as he watches Kurt pop the other half of the Oreo into his mouth. “I don’t like to eat in my room because I hate crumbs. And, uh,” he glances at the doorway just as a loud cheer erupts form the living room. “You guys are really more Mike’s friends. Don’t want to cramp his style.”

“You hate crumbs,” Kurt mutters, grinning and shaking his head. “You’re really something else.”

Blaine presses his lips together to stop the ear-to-ear grin he can feel himself wanting to break into.

“But you’re wrong about the second part,” Kurt says, leaning over to steal another one of Blaine’s cookies. “We’re your friends, too. I mean, christ, we’ve been parking our asses on that couch for like ten years now. You even join us sometimes,” he nudges Blaine with his elbow, and it pushes him away just a little bit. Blaine immediately misses the warmth of Kurt’s body, and wonders if there’s a subtle way he can get close again.

“Sure,” is all he manages to say.

Kurt shakes his head, chuckling. “You coming to the game Saturday?”

Normally Blaine would play coy, see if he can get a reaction out of Kurt by saying he won’t, but, well. He can’t really pretend given what game it is. “You guys are up for the championship. Obviously, I’ll be there.”

Kurt nods. “Good. Need my good luck charm, you know.”

And that’s another thing that confuses Blaine. Because no matter what girl Kurt is currently dating, or sleeping with, or pursuing, he always calls Blaine his good luck charm. And every single time Blaine attends a game and they win, the very first thing that Kurt does is look for him in the audience and point directly at him.

Sam tells him it’s a superstitious thing, but Blaine can’t help but wonder.

“Oh, good, you’re still here,” Blaine looks away from Kurt, surprised to see Finn walking into the kitchen, too. Without thinking, Blaine inches ever so slightly further away from Kurt.

“Hey, Finn,” he says.

“Yeah, hey,” Finn waves a dismissive hand. “Look, you remember the game last weekend? Against Dalton?”

Blaine frowns, then glances up at Kurt confused. He’s hoping it’ll be a small moment of comradery between the two at Finn’s strange question, but instead he finds that any trace of a smile has disappeared from Kurt’s face. His jaw is actually jutting out a little, and he’s sending Finn a fairly icy glare.

It just makes Blaine frown more as he turns back to Finn with a, “Yeah, why?”

“Well,” Finn continues, clearly completely oblivious to Kurt’s stare. “I went to camp a few years ago with the Dalton quarterback, Sebastian Smythe. He noticed you when you came onto the field to congratulate us and thought you were really cute.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up at that. “What?” He hadn’t really been paying attention to anything other than the fact that as soon as he stepped foot on the field Kurt immediately ran up to him and picked him up in a way-too-tight hug that literally swept Blaine off his feet.

“He asked if I knew you and if you’d be interested in getting coffee with him sometime,” Finn is wiggling his eyebrows as he says it, and Blaine feels his heartrate going up a little bit.

“Well, I mean,” Blaine glances up at Kurt again, and yeah, Kurt is definitely glaring at Finn. “I don’t really know him. Or what he looks like.”

“Dude, he’s totally hot for a guy,” Finn says. “And he’s like, nice and stuff. You’ll like him, for real.”

Blaine presses his lips together. He glances up at Kurt again. Kurt, who he has had a crush on for over a year. Kurt, who confuses him. Kurt, who hugs him like he’s the only person who exists but then hooks up with a cheerleader later in the night.

He’s never really been asked out before. Is he really going to say no because of a guy who can’t even return his feelings?

“Uh, sure,” he finally says, shrugging.

Finn does a tiny fist pump. “Sweet! I’ll send him your number and you can fix something up. You’ll seriously like him a lot, I swear dude.”

“Great,” Blaine says, giving a weak smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Finn grins at him, then turns around and leaves again. Blaine looks back up at Kurt as he goes, hoping the iciness will have left his eyes, but it hasn’t. Instead, he’s still glaring daggers where Finn just was, and his arms have come up to cross over his chest.

“That was weird, huh?” Blaine says, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever—”

“Yeah,” Kurt cuts him off. “Right. Look, I’m missing the game, so.”

He pushes off from the counter and walks out of the kitchen without even giving Blaine a chance to respond.

“Right,” Blaine says, though he knows Kurt won’t be able to hear him. “Bye, then,” he says to nobody, eyes falling down to the cookies in his hands.

He sighs, shoves one in his mouth and leaves the kitchen, eating the other one as soon as he swallows the first one.

He really hopes that Tina is home by now, because he doesn’t think just texting her is going to suffice this time.

#klaineanummel fic #klaine fic #klaine au #klaine #pov: blaine #multi chapter #over 10k under 20k

[shes-soparticular]

Might Just Be My Everything and Beyond

Shawn’s girlfriend leaves town for a bachelorette party. He’s left to his own devices.

A/N: Just fluff. P.S. I’m now taking requests and am happy to start a tag list for anyone interested :)

Words: 4180

     He’s never wanted to be that boyfriend. The hopelessly co-dependent kind that can’t be left to his own devices without his girl around to entertain him. But today? Watching Alex throw sunscreen and sandals into her suitcase? He’s feeling a little like that boyfriend. Their bed is presently covered in a pile of her summer clothes, her pointer finger pressed to her lips as she ponders the fabrics like a complex equation. Feeling that familiar wave of neediness come on, he walks up behind her, wrapping his arms tight around her shoulders to stop her as she throws another pair of shorts into the suitcase.

     “I know you’re going to have blast in Vegas with your girlfriends but you know what else would be super fun?” Shawn rests his chin on the top of her head, trying his best to hide the pouty tone of his voice. “If you stayed home with me instead.” When she initially announced she was planning her best friend’s bachelorette party as a liquor fueled weekend in Las Vegas, he’d thought it was a great idea. Alex had been busting her ass at work over the last few months in addition to putting up with his insane tour schedule for the better part of a year, so a long weekend to blow off steam with her girls was well deserved. It wasn’t until he started listening in on all of her planning that he got a little nervous. The club crawls, the all day pool parties, the front row seats at Magic Mike…and if he’d overheard her conversation with her raunchiest friend, strippers weren’t completely off the table. Regardless, he knew he had nothing to worry about. She was an adult, she had more than earned his trust over their two years together, and it wasn’t like he had any concern she was going to run off on him with a Vegas stripper. More than anything, Shawn selfishly felt like he would be missing out. He wanted to hold her hand in front of the Bellagio fountains, wanted to slather her in sunscreen poolside, wanted to carry her out of the club on his back once she refused to wear her heels. (Because this happened every single time Alex wore heels.)

      “And what benefits are in store for me if I stay home?” She inquired, leaning her head forward to deliver a soft bite to his forearm. Her attention was still mainly focused on her wardrobe choices, but as the queen of multi-tasking, she could manage to entertain his pouting.

     “Well, we could stay in all weekend watching conspiracy theory documentaries. Order your favorite Chinese food…” Dropping his arms from her shoulders, he let his hands settle on her hips, thumbs hooking under the top of her pajama shorts. “Have all the sex.”

     “Mmm…you really know the way to my heart, don’t you?” She places her hands over his, momentarily pushing them teasingly further under the hem of her shorts before pulling them away completely, earning a frustrated groan from him. “Let’s put that plan on hold until next weekend? You know I have to go to Vegas, this is my best friend’s bachelorette we’re talking about. I have to be there to make sure it’s a weekend to remember.”

     Something about that statement makes his brow furrow. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?” Watching as Alex resumes her packing, he flops down on the bed next to her suitcase, giving up on sidetracking her. At least for the time being.

     “Don’t worry, this weekend isn’t about me. I’ll be good. You know that.” Her statement is matter of fact, but as she holds up a pair of bikini bottoms that look more like a thong than swimwear, Shawn doesn’t feel especially at ease.

     “But that whole “no talking to boyfriends” rule? Is that really a thing? You’re really not allowed to talk to me for three days?” This was by far his least favorite part of this Vegas trip. Although those bikini bottoms were giving this rule a run for its money. The concern in his voice is enough to catch her undivided attention, bringing her to stand between his knees where they dangle off the edge of the bed.

     “I know, it sounds dumb but we all made a pact. We’re going to have a true girl’s weekend which means not reporting back to the men at home.” Resting her hands on his thighs, she leans forward to give him a soft consolation kiss. “I’m sure I’ll post plenty to Insta and Snapchat. You’ll have proof that I’m alive.” He won’t challenge her now, but he already knows there’s not a chance in hell she’ll obey this rule. Even with his exhaustive touring, they’d never gone a day in their relationship without speaking to one another. Without at least checking in.

     “What if I came with and just hung out in your hotel room? You wouldn’t even have to tell anyone.” Reaching up to her with grabby hands, he simultaneously locks his legs around hers forcing her to lean all the way forward. With an indignant sigh, she lets herself collapse on top of him, her hair hanging around them like a curtain. “It could be our little secret.” Shawn knows how much she loves an opportunity to sneak around. It could be that she’s simply an exhibitionist, or, more likely, it takes her back to the beginning of their relationship when dodging his fans and the media made their romance something of a team sport.

      “I’m sharing a room with two other girls, I think they’d notice you in my bed.” She momentarily lifts herself up, moving her legs to straddle him more effectively. She may not be giving into his requests, but she’s also not strong enough to deny him attention. No matter how much packing she has yet to do or how early her flight leaves the next morning. “You’ll be fine here on your own. It’s just three days and we’ve spent far longer apart.” Even though he knows she’s right and that he’s being far too dramatic, he still can’t shake the sulking feeling. “You’re just getting a taste of being the one stuck at home.” Her eyebrows raise with her statement, amused by the role reversal. Of course she’s right. He rarely thinks twice about leaving for weeks…months at a time. That’s not to say that it isn’t insanely difficult to be away from her. Obviously if he had his way, she’d travel with him for the entirety of tour. But regardless, it’s a thousand times easier to be away from the one you love when you’re moving at such a fast pace you barely have time to reflect on it. Yes, there were days and nights that the urge to hold her nearly drove him to cancel a show and fly home. Yes, there were days and nights that hearing her muffled voice from across the ocean was enough to rip his heart out. But at the end of the day, there was an entire team of people relying on him to keep his shit together.

     This would be different though, considering there’d be no performance to focus his nervous energy on. Instead, he’d be rambling around the condo on his own, with little else to think about than what she was up to. And not even being able to call her? That would make it infinitely worse. “Fine, leave me here. All alone.” Just because he knows that no amount of pouting is going to convince her to cancel her trip, doesn’t mean he’s not going to give it his best effort. “Have your fun.”

   While she won’t admit it, his plan is almost working. His puppy dog eyes are melting through her and it’s nearly enough for her to fake the flu and call the whole trip off. But considering the bride-to-be has been her best friend since the third grade, there’s really no contest. Shawn will be fine on his own for three days, she knows that. As long as he stays away from the stove. “My mopey boy.” Alex pouts right back at him, leaning in to kiss that look right off of his face. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She punctuates her statement with another kiss, her hands taking their own initiative to roam underneath his shirt. Just as her lips start a trail down his neck, she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. Shawn’s hand has somehow found those bikini bottoms, which he is presently trying to shove under the blankets to hide them away from her. He can deal with her going to Vegas. He can deal with her dancing all night with her friends. He can even deal with her throwing singles at some oiled-up dudes. But he cannot deal with seeing her in that thong of a bikini through his phone screen without any means of taking it off. She catches his wrist in the nick of time, holding it down on the bed as she tries to wrestle the bottoms away from him. Unfortunately, he’s got them in a death grip, his other hand free to tickle her side in the exact spot that makes her unable to function. “Okay, okay, but if you make me forget my swimsuit, I’ll just have to skinny dip.”

              Immediately, he releases the bottoms in defeat, tossing them back towards her suitcase. Fine. If he’s going to be subjected to that evil piece of fabric from a thousand miles away, he’s at least going to make up for the lost opportunity in advance. Without warning, he rolls them over, her back landing on top of a pile of clothes yet to be packed. “You’re the worst, you know that?” Giving her no time to respond with her signature sarcasm, he captures her lips in a hungry kiss. She’ll make it to Vegas, but if he has any say about it? It’ll be on no sleep and smelling of him.

      Day one starts off fairly easy. For starters, Shawn absolutely gets his way and they’ve only been asleep for an hour or two when her alarm goes off at 7:00am. He watches with tired satisfaction as Alex rushes to finish packing, throwing items into her suitcase without consideration. He’s pretty sure that in her haste, his jeans from the night before end up in the mix, but he keeps that to himself. He’s not proud of it, but he takes advantage of her guilt long enough to con her into granting him one last quickie rather than taking a shower. So when she gets out of his car at Toronto Pearson, she’s still flushed and smelling of sex and he feels pretty good about sending her off that way.

      At first, time passes quickly. Mostly because he spends most of the afternoon catching up on sleep. It’s around 5:00pm when the updates start rolling in, beginning with a wholesome group photo that Alex has posted to Instagram. He has a sneaking suspicion that this will be the last photo taken in Vegas where they collectively appear sober and bright eyed. In any case, he’s glad to see a sign of life from her. As the night pushes onward, he’s quickly proven right as he watches several of her friend’s snap stories as they go shot for shot with one another, the sound of their woohoo’ing driving him to turn down the volume on his phone to the lowest setting. Okay, so maybe he’s relieved he didn’t go and hide out in her hotel room. Granted, it’s not like he’s any stranger to the sound of screaming women. Around 11:00pm, he nearly chokes when he comes across a video of Alex taking a shot of tequila with her hands held behind her back, the whole bar cheering her on. At midnight, there’s a photo of her holding back the bride-to-be’s hair with in the backdrop of an opulent marble bathroom. He checks for the last time shortly after 2:00am to see that they made it out to the clubs in one piece, though he takes note that Alex has already taken her heels off. Predictable. With one day under his belt and two to go, he drifts to sleep surprisingly quick considering her fingers aren’t threading through his hair.

     Day 2 becomes a bit harder. Not only is he bored out of his mind, but when there isn’t a single update from Alex or any of her friends by 1:00pm, his stomach starts to churn. He knows these girls, they live for social media and a bachelorette party is prime content. Reminding himself of the time difference, he’s soothed temporarily but it’s not long before he’s refreshing each social media account desperate for updates. Just as he’s about to break the rules and call her, the bride starts posting video after video of the group poolside at a day club. He swipes past all of the photos of obnoxious inflatable pool toys and selfies of the other girls until he finds a video starring Alex. From the cover photo alone, he recognizes the cut off short covered ass belonging to his girlfriend. Honestly, he could pick it out of a lineup with ease. The way there’s just a flash of cheek peeking out from underneath the faded denim, the shorts completely filled out to the point that his breath hitches in his chest. As if he hadn’t kneaded that ass in his palms less than 48 hours before.

      Eagerly, he hits play on the video only to instantly hear the beginning of the Lost in Japan remix. The camera zooms in on Alex as she turns towards her friends, a giant, open mouthed smile plastered on her face. Instantly, she raises her comically large, neon colored drink into the air, hips already swaying suggestively to the song. “That’s my man!!” Her voice is hoarse but full of pride and excitement, and he swears his heart almost can’t take it. Without shame, he replays the video over and over, maybe a dozen times. There’s a matching smile stuck on his face as he hears her shout “that’s my man!” again and again. Alright, so maybe Day 2 isn’t so bad either. At least not until he sees the group photo of the girls hanging all over the dancers from the Magic Mike show. Alex, in particular, is sandwiched between two incredibly buff dudes that would put even Shawn’s physique to shame. The way her hand rests on the tanned abs of one of the guys causes a rush of jealousy to burn upwards through his chest, but all he has to do is rewatch the pool video for the twentieth time and the feeling fades away. “That’s my man!” Do people still use personalized ringtones? Because he’s pretty sure he’d like to hear that sound bite all day, every day. Some would call it odd to be this infatuated with someone this far into a relationship, but every glimpse of her gives him butterflies.

      By Day 3, he swears he’s about to lose his mind. The minutes seem to crawl by and nothing helps pass the time any faster. In typical Shawn fashion, he spends a while juggling. He does an Instagram Live for 20 minutes. He tries to figure out how to make this chicken thing Alex always cooks, but he burns it and turns to cereal instead. He screws around on the guitar for awhile but inspiration never strikes. Finally, he calls in the reserves and invites his buddies over for a boy’s night. He also swears to himself that he’s not going to check in on Alex…because he knows if he does, he’ll end up calling her. Since he has a feeling that she’s expecting him to fail at the three day communication embargo, he’s doing his best to power through this final day without proving her right. Inviting his friends over turns out to be the right call, as his mind finally leaves Vegas and joins the world of X-Box and craft beer. It isn’t until he hears Brian snickering from the corner of the room that Alex is brought back to his thoughts.

     “Dude, Alex’s friend Chelsea is live on Insta right now…I think you might want to see this…” He passes his phone to Shawn, the rest of their friends leaning in to see what all the fuss is about. Sure enough, there’s Alex, on a karaoke stage with the bride-to-be, microphone held sideways in her hand. She’s…rapping? Not just to any song, but the incredibly raunchy Ludacris song “What’s Your Fantasy?”. “She’s getting every. Single. Word. Right.” Brian can barely catch his breath he’s laughing so hard, and Shawn isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh along or rub his temples. Alex would. She’s almost more of a ham than he is, always the person in the room cracking jokes the loudest, always willing to make a fool out of herself to get a laugh. Based on what he can see from the video, the crowd is LOVING it and he almost feels a weird sense of pride? For his girlfriend performing a dirty song? It doesn’t make a lot of sense but this is one of those strange, inappropriate moments where the only thought in his head is I’m going to marry this girl.

    ��           The next morning, he wakes up long before his alarm, energy already coursing through his veins. Boyfriend energy. There’s a notification on his phone, only a few hours old, for a text from Alex. He grabs his phone so fast he nearly fumbles it, trying to swipe into the text message to see what was finally important enough for her to break her silence. It turns out to be a video, just a few seconds long. Clicking on it, he’s treated to the sight of Alex climbing into her hotel bed, hair piled in a top knot and sheets pulled up to her chin. “I love you. I miss you. One more sleep, baby.” She blows a kiss to the camera at the same moment one of her friends shouts at her to shut up. The video cuts off just as she yells a “make me” back, face twisting from puppy love to bitch, try me. Jesus, where did he find this woman?? Just like the pool video, he plays this one several times before texting her back. No more sleeps. See you soon, honey. Travel safe. Love you. He is whipped. Completely. Shamelessly. Happily. Whipped.

                      When he finally sees her coming down the escalator, he has to fight to stifle a laugh. Half of her face is obscured by a massive pair of sunglasses, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up over her head and tied around her face. A baggy pair of sweatpants he’s never seen before and a sad pair of flip flops complete her outfit. She moves slowly when she steps off the escalator, a slight limp in her walk as she favors one ankle. She doesn’t notice him at first, but the second she does, her shoulders slump even lower.

              “I am…not okay in this particular moment.” Alex wheezes, voice barely above a whisper and clearly lost from all of the drinking, screaming, and rapping she’d been doing in Sin City. Leaning directly into him, it’s clear that she’s wiped out and wrecked from her three-day bender.

              “What? My girl can’t rally like she used to?” Shawn readily accepts her into his arms, relieved to be able to feel her again. And also, maybe, a little relieved that she made it home in one piece.

              “The problem is that I did rally. For 72 hours. Now I never want to see vodka again. Or tequila. Or champagne.”  She pauses for a beat, head still pressed into his shirt. “Whiskey is still okay though.”

              This time, he allows himself to laugh at her expense but pulls her in tighter all the same. “Well as long as you’re not claiming to swear off all alcohol. That I wouldn’t believe.” She whimpers into his chest, understandably unable to match his energy. “Come on baby, let’s get you home before you drop.”

      By the time he gets her into the apartment, he realizes that she might still be a little bit drunk. Trying in vain to convince her to lay down on the couch, she attaches herself to him once more, arms slung around his neck, doing her best to climb him like a koala. “I missed you. Every second. I should have let you come along.” While he’s touched to hear this admission from her, he really is happy that she got to spend the weekend on her own, letting loose with her friends in her element. There will be plenty of other vacation opportunities for the two of them, a few that he may or may not have started researching when he was climbing the walls on Day 3.

              “I don’t know, it looks like you had a great time. Especially at Magic Mike,” He leans back far enough from her so she can spot his raised eyebrow. “You seemed pretty damn enthusiastic for that, by the way…”

      An incredulous squeak escapes her, face turned up to look at his. “I was only hyping it for the bride! Why would I be horned up for those meatsuits when I come home to this?” Her hands settle on his cheeks, giving his face a soft squeeze. “And this…” Her statement is punctuated by her pelvis grinding into his.

              His hands instantly catch her hips, stilling her before she can go any further. “I’ve had three days of blue balls watching your stories. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

              There’s an actual look of shock on her face, considering she’s not used to being turned down. “Who says I can’t finish?” There’s a determination on her face that makes him second guess himself. But upon giving her a once over, he pauses long enough to think of the most delicate way to let her down.

      “For starters, while you look like the most beautiful train wreck, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this tired.” He bites his lip, hoping that critique won’t upset her. But she seems to willingly accept it, blowing the loose hair out of her face and rubbing her tired eyes. “You need a shower and a nap. As much as I want to make up for lost time.” There’s a mixture of disappointment and gratitude on her face, which he answers by patting her butt towards the bathroom. “Go shower. I’ll nap with you after.”

              As she showers, he gets busy making her a cup of tea with a copious amount of honey to sooth her throat. Being the king of using YouTube to teach himself new skills, he watches a few videos about wrapping sprained ankles until he feels confident. By the time she’s finished, he’s ready and waiting to fix her up. She complies with his orders, relaxing into their headboard, cup of tea balanced on her chest while his hands gently affix the wrap around her injured ankle. Fingers ghosting over her skin once he’s satisfied with his work, he grabs a pillow to rest underneath her foot. “I’m glad you had fun. But. I’m calling it now, no Vegas for your bachelorette party.” He chuckles, crawling up the bed to join her. “I hear Calgary is a great bachelorette destination. Maybe Winnipeg.”

              Swallowing the last of her tea, she discards the mug on the nightstand and rolls to pull herself into him. “You know, there’s this key thing that needs to happen before it’s my turn for a bachelorette party.” It’s a lighthearted statement which she follows with a soft kiss to prove as such. She’s never been the type to put any pressure on their relationship nor has she ever been preoccupied with any timelines. As evidenced that weekend, Alex was more of a “live for the moment” type of person. That was one of the many things he appreciated about her, considering so much of his life had to be tightly planned. With her, there was never any pressure.

              “Just putting it out there. You might want to give it some thought.” He flashes her a knowing grin, bringing his face to hers for just one more kiss. There isn’t a single doubt in his mind that this is the woman for him. And sooner than later, much sooner, he’s going to make sure the whole world knows it. “Now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up and you can tell me all about Vegas.” She settles into him once more, head on his chest and ear over his heart. “And we can talk about your karaoke performance…it’s given me…some ideas…” The last sound he hears before her breathing turns deep is an embarrassed laugh and a murmured I love you.

     Yep, he’s definitely going to marry this girl.

tagging @fourtristattoos for boyfriend!week 

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