#5sos gender neutral

[sierradeaton]

CALUM ♡ YOUNGBLOOD

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Calum flying you out to one of the Europe shows bc he knew you always wanted to visit that country

Hi Blanca! Thanks for the request. We're going with Spain because I'm a nerd and they have the longest break after that show with the 5 seconds of Summer show.

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. Fluff--so much of it.

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Requests are now closed. Finishing up the last one from yesterday

Feel free to look through my masterlist for more.

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Calum knows it’s ridiculous, but he does it because you like it this way--a hard copy backup of the flight information in addition to the app on your phone. He could call it overkill, but he’s not going to do that. Because it makes traveling easier for you. So he digs out the stapler from your desk and staples the pages together. 

Calum listens, catching the crackle of your phone from the kitchen. It cuts over the hum of the stove vent. “No, my toes are not food,” you laugh. No doubt it’s Duke at your feet as you cook. You’ve insisted on this break during the tour to spoil Calum. He’s just glad that his outfits are by no means tight fitting so he can enjoy every single thing with which you spoil him. 

Calum shuffles up from the offices to the kitchen. He keeps the itinerary at his side. He knows you may be a little annoyed at first. But he had the number to your boss’s line for a reason. And though this might not be for the reasons that he had it--mostly in case you got sick or godforbid injured--Calum’s sure that once you find out the location of the destination any annoyance you have will disappear.

“Smells good up here,” Calum comments, peering into the kitchen. 

You smile up at him. “It’s your favorite. And I could be a smidge quicker but Duke’s annoyed he’s not being fed right now.”

Calum laughs, knowing the old man is pretty fond of his schedule. Calum’s arrival was a small interruption and Duke will not let himself be ignored. “I’ll get it for him. But in the meantime, you should probably get packing.” Calum’s careful to put the flight itinerary on the fridge out of the way of the hot stove or the mess on the counter that he’s sure is tomato juice from your previous chopping.

“Packing? Why would I be packing?” you ask, giving the pot a good stir. A few more bubbles are popping up and you know soon you’ll need to turn the heat down. 

You spin to catch the paper Calum’s tacked up. The cabinets with Duke’s food squeak open. You’ve put all that you can think of on the hinges and nothing gets rid of the noise entirely. You read over the details--noticing you’re flying on what will be the date of the Lisbon show but going into Madrid instead--directly. 

“Cal, what the absolute hell is this? What am I reading?” you ask, a little concerned that you hadn’t seen this coming. Though, maybe you should’ve. Your boss normally had a standing 1:1 with you on Tuesdays but the one for next week had seemingly disappeared. Your plan was to ask about that on Monday, but this seemed to be the reason why the date was no longer showing up on your calendar.  

Calum presses a kiss on your cheek, arms winding around your waist. “A trip to Spain. Because you said you’ve always wanted to go.”

“Looks like a trip to Milan too? Just flouncing me around everywhere?” You laugh, turning back to look at him as best as you can. You can’t get more than a glimpse but Calum’s laughter is soft over your cheek. 

“I like to spoil you too. Besides, you haven’t taken a vacation outside the one we took what? Two years ago. I know you don’t like to take time off unless necessary, but I think you’d benefit from just a few days ago, baby. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

You snort, tapping at Calum’s stomach with your elbow. He releases you and you spin towards the stove to turn the burner down. “I’m just so used to sort of holding things down while you’re gone, you know? You’re gone for big chunks when you do leave that I just don’t think about myself? Not in a bad way. I don’t blame you. I just do what’s gotta be done.”

“I understand that. Just want you to have some time to enjoy yourself. Get out there, explore the world with me because I know you want to do that too.”

You do want that too. You want to not feel chained to your work and responsibilities, but letting go is hard sometimes. Maybe a surprise trip wouldn’t be all that bad. “Have you planned who’s taking Duke?”

Calum nods. “Yes, they’re free and able to watch him. Plants will be watered too. Got someone who will check the house too.” This is how your brain works. You need a plan, clear and concise of what’s happening. Calum can give you that, so he takes your hips in his hands to get your attention back to him. When you look up at him, he kisses your forehead before continuing, “Car’s will get you from here and one will pick you up at the airport. You’ll be getting to the hotel before us as we’ll be getting in late that night and you’re landing about late afternoon, but the hotel knows we’re in the same room. Duke’s getting picked up the day before. I’ve already emailed over the instructions though it’s not really necessary. Spare key’s already in the box and they have the code should they need to get inside for anything.”

A plan. A good one. You nod. “And what am I supposed to do for the few hours that you’re off in another country playing a show? Hmm? Mister-I’ve-Got-All-This-Planned.”

Calum laughs. “Plan what we’ll do with my days off. Explore. Send me pictures of all the shops you’re doing to drag me.”

Your gaze narrows, a playful smirk lifting your lips. “Goddamn you know me so well.” Stretching upwards, you capture his lips in a kiss. His cheeks squish a little in your grasps. “Thank you for planning this, baby. I appreciate it.”

“With honor,” Calum mumbles. “Your boss was very shocked to get a message from me though and I had to swear like fifteen times you weren’t sick or dead.”

You laugh. “Sounds like Tom. I think he gets freaked out even more so when I take time because it’s usually always super serious. Like the time we had to spend the night in the hospital thanks to my food allergies.”

“Yeah, no, we’re never eating at the restaurant again and I need you to not bring up the night I’ve ever seen you in such rough shape. You looked like a balloon. I was so scared.”

It was not a glorious night. You’d noticed an itchy throat after you ate dinner, but hadn’t thought anything of it as the spring blossoms had also been giving you issues lately. But when you woke up, hot and itchy, you felt something was wrong. You couldn’t halfway swallow and the bathroom lights revealed the hives across your chest and arms. You knew immediately that it was an allergic reaction and woke Calum. His panic was immediate but he calmed down enough to administer your epipen considering you hadn’t been able to do it yourself. 

The drive to the hospital was tense as Calum sped through a couple red lights. But you spent only a few minutes before you got checked in. An hour and a half of steroids and antihistamines rectified the situation but Calum was putting in the submission for the day off and emailing your boss on your behalf the second you got back to the house.

You pat Calum’s chest, before turning back to the dinner you’re preparing. “I know, baby. You didn’t like it and neither did I. I’m a-okay now though.”

“I got your epipen refilled too by the way. Please bring the new one for me?”

“Scouts honor,” you return. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving that thing behind.”

 “Good, good. But this weekend, you’re packing. Because you’re going on a trip. No ifs, no ands, no buts.”

“I’ll pack, no ifs, no ands, no buts,” you laugh, pulling the garlic knots from the oven. They’re a perfect shade of brown and you know they’re done. Calum brings the mats closer so you can set the hot tray down. 

“Oh, these look fucking amazing,” Calum gravels at the sight. “I’m so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.”

“Damn straight you are,” you laugh. 

*********

Your suitcase rolls next to you, catching just a little at the bumpy texture of the sidewalk. The black truck is paused right outside the house and the driver jogs to catch up to you. You only have a carry-on suitcase and a backpack. Though you don’t travel often, you’ve helped Calum pack more than enough times to know the best ways to get tuck, roll, stuff and flatten all your needs into the smallest bag possible. It’s annoying to wait for checked baggage at times and for the few days you’ll be gone, you don’t feel the need to carry too much. 

“I can take that for you,” the driver greets, reaching out for the handle of the carry on. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you laugh. It’s not heavy at all, but you don’t want to interrupt the kindness. With your case loaded in, you slip into the backseat and the drive passes in light conversation. The sun’s just barely peeking out from the horizon and you’re grateful that it seems to be an easy trip into the airport. 

At your gate, with your shoes still untied, you snap a picture to send to Calum. You anticipate that it’ll go unanswered for a while. But to your surprise, a couple minutes later after you tie up your laces, your phone shakes. Please don’t…trip ;D. See you soon! You hate that you snicker so much at the text. Another text comes in a minute later, Love you too, baby. Can’t wait to explore with you.

Your reply is swift, Love you too. Already plotting something! 

I expect nothing less. 

The flight is uneventful, but a little long. You’re glad for boring though, allowing you to grab a few extra hours of sleep that had been interrupted by the early morning flight. Spotting the car for you is easy--there’s a sign and flowers. Only Calum would ever do such a thing. But you sheepishly close the gap and introduce yourself as the person on the sign. 

The driver smiles, an accent painting their words, but they seem cheerful. “Welcome to Spain! I’ve heard it’s your first time.”

You nod. “If you have any suggestions on things to do, please do tell.”

“Oh, you’re very much in luck; born and raised here.” The drive to the hotel is filled with suggestions and places to check out. They’re suggesting both tourists' needs and spots that only locals are familiar with. Your notes app is littered with names, some misspelled, but you’re beyond grateful to have their perspectives. 

At the front of the hotel, you thank the driver yet again, profusely for the list. “Oh, you’re beyond welcome. Enjoy your trip!”

With your backpack, luggage and the flowers, you juggle your way into the lobby. At the front desk, you’re greeted with a bright smile and you manage to get your keys with ease. The room is cool as you’re already anticipating. The day of travel is catching up and you’re getting hungry. You look to see what’s close around you and decide to set out on foot. It’ll be a nice way to waste a little bit of time. Maybe you can scope out what’s close by to do as well. 

You find a little cafe close by--one actually being one that’s on your list from your driver. It looks cute and quaint with a patio for you to eat on. As you settle down, you snap a picture of your items. Safe and eating some food. Thanks for the flowers <3. 

Throughout the day, as you stumble across various shops and things, you snap a picture and send it to Calum. Your list of things to do with Calum narrows down a little as you realize some things are just for you really. You’ll share what you can with Calum, but you know that he’s going to want to take a much chill approach to the day than you. You’ll do a bit more with the time you do have so that way the time you have with Calum can be about enjoying each other’s company. 

As you wander, a park opens up in front of you. You’re thankful as you settle in a little deeper that you have a strong sense of direction. Perhaps, you’ll just take a minute to sit here, watch some people. It happens to be a beautiful day and you’re grateful for the good weather as you settle down near a fountain to take in the sight unfolding around you.  Most people are just passing through it seems. But you spot some sitting, chatting animatedly. 

God, I’m so jealous. Can we visit again together? Looks beautiful, Calum responds to one of the pictures from the park. 

You’d expect him to be performing at the very least by now, but you’re not entirely sure of the time difference. You’ve snuggle into the sheets, with the TV on in front of you. Definitely we can, you reply. 

As the night continues on, you can hear the streets coming alive. You’re not shocked as you’ve heard the night life goes long and hard in Spain. You’d want to join, but you have the second key to the room and you need to be here when Calum arrives. Also, the long flight today has gotten to you so you’re not sure if you’d have the energy to continue on anyway. But the TV and the laughter below start to blur together as your eyes drop and drop. 

A knock rings out through the room and you snap awake. It takes a moment to unravel yourself from the sheets, but once you do, you scurry over to the door. Through the little peephole you catch Calum’s buzzed head and swing the door open.  “Hi baby,” he smiles.

“Cal, hi,” you return, throwing yourself up into his arms. The hug is warm and tight--a feeling that follows you as you fall asleep that night wrapped in Calum’s embrace. 

The morning is a little slow--a lot of gentle kisses and soft tufts of laughter, but you finally unravel yourselves from the bed to do some light exploring before the car collects the entire group to head to the venue. In the excursions, you try to point out where you went yesterday and where you want to go tomorrow after the show. Calum’s input is relatively minimal and though you make sure he’s not being left out, he just shrugs, “Whatever you want babe.”

“You say that now, but just you wait,” you laugh after a sip of your coffee. “I don’t want a peep come tomorrow then,” you laugh. 

“Scouts honor,” Calum returns. “But, there’s something happening in the evening that the guys want to do.”

“What time?”

“Around 7 or so, I think. Think we’ll make it?”

You nod. “Absolutely, we can.”

Calum grins around his bite of fruit. “Sweet.”

The show goes off without a hitch--the whole day between soundcheck and getting ready for the show also passed with ease too. You’re excited that a few older songs make their way into the setlist, but don’t really take much of your sight off Calum. He bounces around the stage, a smile that hardly leaves his face. The sight makes your chest warm--knowing that he’s enjoying himself. It’s a feeling that you find yourself in often--a sense of calm knowing Calum’s happy with his life, knowing that you’re happy with it too. But you don’t take these moments of clarity for granted, when you get to see just how blessed your life is, you like to do your best to hold them to your chest, pressed into your ribs. 

“I like seeing you happy,” you whisper to Calum that night, straddled over his waist. Your fingers trace the ink decorating his chest. 

“I like seeing you happy too,” he whispers in return. His hands squeeze just a little at your thighs, as if to reassure you of the sentiment. 

That’s all the moment needs, content now to just trace shapes onto his body. Calum seems content too, eyes slotting close at your touch. You imagine all the adrenaline is leaving now. The effort of the shows catching back up with him. Before you can even think about it, the words are falling over your lips in a prayer, “i carry your heart with me(i carry it in/ my heart) i’m never without it(anywhere/ i go you go, my dear).”

In your mind’s eyes, you can see Calum’s handwriting in the margins of the page, an arrow detailed to the lines that are bracketed, us--you’ve seen the world even if you didn’t know it. i’ve never left home, even if i don’t know it. 

You can feel the gaze behind you, as you peer up at the sculpture in front of you. You know it’s Calum behind the cap. The glasses he’s dawned make his face look softer but somehow the lenses seem to magnify his eyes. You can see the blinks, watch his eyes widen when you catch him staring. 

“You’re supposed to be paying attention to the art,” you whisper. 

“I am,” he shrugs. “It’s an added benefit that I can touch the art I’m looking at.” Calum wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“It’s still going to cost you and I’m not cheap,” you retort. 

“I think I’ll be able to afford the cost.”

“Just don’t misbehave in the cathedral. I do not need the saints to come alive and smite you.”

Calum laughs, taking your hand. “What a way to go am I right?”

“No, sir, you’re very much wrong,” you huff, following him into the next room. Your lunch is spent settled into a park--not the one you showed to Calum in the pictures, but thankfully there’s another good one close to where you two are. 

Under the clear skies, you and Calum work over your servings of patatas bravas. Though it did take a little translation via your phones to make sure none of the items were one you were allergic too. Your pen’s in Calum’s coat pocket, but it’s not a risk the two of you want to take. As you chase some of the sauce so it doesn’t land on your pants, you are tentative in trying to decide if you like it or not. Though with a couple more bites, you decide that it’s a dish you very much enjoy. Though with the basics, you think it would be hard to not love fried potatoes. 

Just as the sky gets a little more pinkish in hue, you and Calum find yourselves in a ride. You rest your head on Calum’s shoulder. “The guys are meeting us there right?” you ask knowing that Calum’s the one coordinating with them. 

“Yep, I think they might be there already. They were just a little closer than us.”

Your hum’s the last sound of the room before you pass thanks to the driver. As you step out you notice something floating up into the sky--yellow and red. “Is-is that a hot air balloon?” you question. 

“M-maybe,” Calum returns. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t notice that.”

“Are you taking me in a fucking hot air balloon?” you gape. It’s not fear though your heart rate does spike at the thought of being so high up in just a basket. 

“Maybe,” Calum answers again. “It’s a yes if you’re not mad.”

You laugh, taking Calum’s hand. “No, not mad. A little nervous, but do you know how cool I’ll be when I go back to work and say I’ve been in a fucking hot air balloon?”

“So cool,” Calum laughs. 

It’s scary at first, as the guide walks through the safety procedures. It’s the entire band plus you in one basket, but you’re all spread out so the weight is a bit more even. Michael let’s out a little shriek it lifts off the ground. “Holy shit,” he laughs. 

Ashton pats his back, but it’s much easier to not look directly down. If you keep your gaze and eyeline straight ahead it’s a little less scary. You don’t feel like you might plummet. Your hand is tight around Calum’s but he doesn’t complain once about the grip. His thumb soothes over the skin on the back of your hand. “Just breathe for me, baby,” he encourages. 

“If our tour manager finds out about this,” Luke laughs from the otherside of the balloon. You know there’s concerns about their safety at the forefront and also worry about the tour. But you can’t help but laugh that Luke’s first concern is about getting caught. 

“Don’t spill the beans then,” you return. 

“Touché,” Luke laughs. 

When your nerves settle, thanks to the steady climb with no issues, you can actually pick out parts of the landscape--the mountains, the city below you. It’s a gorgeous sight and your own awe bubbles up your chest in a round of laughter. “This is so insane,” you whisper to Calum. 

The corner of his eyes crinkle with his smile. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

“Thanks for bringing me along.” 

“Wouldn’t want to share this with anyone else,” Calum returns, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

As you watch the expanse beneath you, the horizon that is endless, the trees that look like you could pluck them if you reached out, you’re amazed at how big the world is and how small you are in it. Yet, you don’t feel meaningless in all of the vastness. You’re still a piece of the puzzle--small, but not insignificant. You’ve got a place even if it’s just being a good human in all the madness of the world.  Even if it’s just to love and have been loved in the grand scheme of everything. 

“Look,” Calum offers softly, noticing what appears to be deer clustered together. It’s a little hard to tell from the height, but Calum would hazard that to be the animal. 

You laugh when you spot the cluster. “They look so tiny.”

“Yeah, a little bit they do.” Calum watches your pre-occupation, gaze floating around at the earth beneath you. With the tiny distraction, he reaches into his pocket and digs out the little box. His hands tremble just a little. But when you bring hand to your lips, he knows it’s you attempting to bring comfort. 

“Can-can you hold this for me?” Calum ask, holding out the box. 

“Yeah,” you start to answer without really thinking. But when you feel the shape and the soft texture, you look down at what it’s in your hands. This is not what you think it is. It’s not. It can’t be. 

“Holy fuck,” you hear from your side and look to spot Michael with his eyes wide. 

Calum clears his throat. “I know there’s probably a much smoother way to go about it. But I wanted to say that the time I’ve spent with you has been the most amazing. I could never conjure up someone better to spend the rest of my life with.”

Your can’t quite make Calum out with the blur of your tears until you blink and they clear. “Fuck,” you sigh out. 

Calum laughs. “Will you do the honor of letting me carry your heart with mine for the rest of our lives?” 

Time freezes, Calum swears. He waits, and waits, and the seconds feel like hours. He doesn’t think you’re going to say no. You’ve talked about getting married, knowing it’s a thing you both want. You’d even told Calum you wanted something small and intimate, but know that if Calum’s asking it would be okay to find a way to have the guys there as moral support. The conversations about marriage weren’t immediate, but they weren’t about a far off future. It was a tangible goal--though the two of you had mentioned that waiting for a quiet moment with the band would probably be for the best. So, no, Calum’s not scared you’re going to say no. He never anticipated that he’d ever shock you. 

“Scouts’ honor you’re not bullshitting me?” you ask, a small lump raising in your throat. 

“Scouts’ honor I’m not bullshitting you.”

“I’m nonrefundable,” you laugh and capture his lips in a kiss. Calum laughs into the kiss, but knows it’s a yes. When you break away, Calum slips the ring--a gold band with what looks like a rope pattern etched into the metal--onto your ring finger. 

You watch the sun catch the jewelry too--a glint passing over your eye and feel a squeeze in your chest, pressing at your ribs. You reach up and kiss Calum again as the guys erupt into cheers. Even the person conducting the hot air balloon cheers as well. 

When the balloon touches down again, the guys rush you and Calum in a group hug, laughing. “I swear he wasn’t going to do it. I thought he was going to wait for dinner later,” Ashton giggles. “Swear I was going to have to kick him in the ass to do it.”

You laugh, but when you look over to Calum you can see the sort of toll that asking too. You wind your arm around his waist. “Worried?”

“I was so scared I’d drop the ring from the balloon,” Calum admits with a laugh. 

“Oh, that would’ve been awful, but I would’ve still said yes.”

“Oh, you didn’t even say yes,” Calum howls. “You said, ‘I’m nonrefundable.’”

“Basically the same thing,” you laugh. “I mean at least from me, it is. But you didn’t drop the ring. It’s a win-win.”

“Imagine when you go back to work and you tell them about the hot air balloon and a proposal. You’ll be the coolest one in the office for at least three months.”

“Six months,” Michael tosses in.

You nod at the correction. “That part. Thank you, Calum. Couldn’t have asked for a better trip to Spain with my now future husband.”

Calum giggles. “Husband has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Oh, absolutely it does.”

[ughkat]

new ashton works in the near future for my ash girlies 🫡

[keithpaladin05]

My requests are open!

I only write fluff at the moment.

Fandoms/character I write for:

Voltron

My Hero Academia

5sos

The Outsiders

Hamilton (Laurens, Hamilton, Lafayette, Hercules)

Haikyuu!!

Demon Slayer

Genshin Impact

Yuri on Ice!!

Miguel O’ Hara

Hiro Hamada

Tadashi Hamada

Our Flag Means Death

[gothluke]

together again <3

[hornee4calum]

Jst need 5sos smut where any of the boys refer to readers genitalia as boycunt like. I need some smut aimed towards masc-aligned afab people. Give me some bi/pan calum, ashton, luke or michael i dont even care I JUST WANT TO BE INCLUDED

[wiiildflowerrr]

In this glimpse of a photoshoot in today's video, Luke is wearing Dongme jacket in purple by 'gender-agnostic' US/Indian label Two Point Two.

(How much do I love reverse image search?)

[ierogenvy]

has someone recommended my blog i keep getting new followers that aren’t bots

[talkfastcal]

:)

[plutoccult]

HOW CAN I SNOOZE AND MISS THE MOMENT? YOU JUST TOO IMPORTANT

pairing: kei tsukishima x gender neutral reader

description: even after a long and frustrating day at work, you can’t help but fight to stay up with your favorite person on earth.

word count: 1.6k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: i wrote this because i hated my job at the time (i have since quit and found a job that pays me way more), and this idea spurred after a draining day at work. i debated on who to write it for, but ironically the #1 tsukishima anti (/j) @heavenfilm suggested i write it for tsukishima. i mean, since no. 1 party anthem was so successful, it makes sense for me to write for him once more. plus, the fandom is probably bumping again thanks to the new movie. i know this is short, but don’t most people want that? anyway, i hope you enjoy!

tags: @solefleurs @heavenfilm @mayariviolet @dragon-slayer5 @darthferbert @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten @intheewrld @localgaytrainwreck @rasisarchive

taglist form here

the second you walked through the door and slammed it shut behind you, you wanted to fall to the floor and rot there. it was incredibly overdramatic, you were well aware of that, but you felt such theatrics were more than valid after the hellish day you had at work.

your job was easy for the most part. while you knew you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life working there, you at least wanted it to be somewhat tolerable. sometimes you dealt with annoying customers, treating you as if you were an idiot despite knowing the policies like the back of your hand. but today wasn’t one of those days where you put up with some snotty karen, funnily enough. the villain of your work day happened to be your manager.

when things are going their way, they’re the coolest person in the world. but whenever there was the most minuscule inconvenience, it turned into everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t stand it. it was like playing survival mode on the hardest level. many a time were you tempted to put your foot down and quit, but you were too afraid of being jobless for too long and leaving your boyfriend to pay all the bills. it didn’t help that applying for jobs was such a pain in the ass either.

after a long day at work, you scrunch your face in frustration then let out a long sigh, sliding your back against the door as you found comfort sitting on the carpet. too lazy to do anything else, even kick off your shoes, you sit there for a few moments with your eyes closed. it was the most relaxing moment you’ve had all day, but that title would soon be taken over once your boyfriend tsukishima emerged from your shared bedroom, having heard you come through the door just moments ago.

“y/n?” he pattered down the hall, finding you in your current position. “why are you on the floor?”

you open your eyes and see tsukishima’s face. it was hard to read him most times when you first met, but you had learned him inside and out, down to the way he let out a sigh once agreeing to something he didn’t really want to do. the sight of him just standing there, looking down at you with his head slightly tilted brought you utter joy. his face was the one thing you always looked forward to see after days like these.

“hi, my love.” you say. “it’s been a long day…”

“your manager again?” tsukishima asked. he knew you all too well.

“a pain as always.” you groan. it didn’t require any more detail than that for him to understand your struggle. days like these had been going on for a while, and it pained him to see you like this.

“well,” tsukishima offered his hand, you taking it immediately as he pulled you to your feet, bringing you close to him by wrapping an arm around your shoulder, all in such slick movements. “you should probably have some food then get to bed.”

you quickly shake your head in protest. you didn’t want to go to bed yet. you just got home. you wanted to spend time with him.

“go to bed? but i wanna stay up with you…” you pout.

while your puppy face was one of tsukishima’s weaknesses, he valued your wellbeing far too much than to be selfish and let you sacrifice time that could be spent resting.

“you need to rest.” he insisted.

“but—”

“you’ll fall over if you stand a second longer.” tsukishima interrupted you, gently running a hand through your hair, which almost lulled you to sleep on the spot despite your resistance. “i’ll bring you something to eat as long as you get to bed, okay?”

“okay…” you let out a sigh, looking down to the floor as you dragged your feet to your bedroom. you stop for a moment, your feet aching too much for you to bother taking another step.

“tsukki?” you turn around, tsukishima saying “hm?” as he anticipated your next words. “carry me?”

ah, of course. he couldn’t ever say no to that. “alright…”

tsukishima lifted you up with ease, a given considering he always stayed in tip-top shape throughout the years thanks to playing volleyball. as relaxing as it was to be in his arms, you fought like hell to stay awake, wanting to keep your eyes on that gorgeous face as long as humanly possible.

he placed you down on the bed, going as far as to take your shoes off your feet and set them aside. the constraint of your shoes were killing you all day, so you felt immediate relief upon their removal. you were thankful for tsukishima doing such things for you without you even having to ask. he truly understood you through and through, his love shown in his acts of service rather than words spoken.

“get comfy while i bring you a plate.” tsukishima placed a kiss on your cheek and ruffled your hair before leaving the room. you were tempted to get under those cozy blankets, but you knew it would only make you sleepy, and you couldn’t have that. you didn’t work all day just to fall asleep before you could spent more than just a moment with the one you love.

tsukishima found you yawning as you tried sitting up as straight as possible. he came in with a bowl of fettuccine alfredo, having made it earlier with you in mind, just freshly reheated for your enjoyment. but tsukishima couldn’t help but sigh at the display in front of him.

“didn’t i tell you to get comfy?” he rolled his eyes as he sat down on the bed next to you. “here. i’m sure you’re starving after a long day.”

“i’d start gnawing on your arm soon enough.” you joke and take the bowl from his hands. “but thank you.”

“i’d rather you didn’t.” tsukishima cringed at the thought. funnily enough, he thought that such a thing would affect his performance at games. he wasn’t the same as he was as a teenager, that’s for sure.

you’re too busy to even respond, inhaling your food like it was going out of style. sometimes you’re just too caught up at work to even think about taking a snack break. even if you did relax for once, someone was always bound to ask for your help because they either didn’t 1. have a clue on what to do or 2. feel like doing their job. you were truly stuck to a ball and chain because of these people.

once you finished the last bite, you didn’t have to say a thing as tsukishima took the bowl out of your hands, already thinking to wash the dishes for you later so you didn’t have to lift a finger. he placed the bowl down on the nightstand for a moment, grabbing the edge of your shared comforter, which you immediately took notice to.

“woah, woah, woah!” you exclaim and grab tsukishima’s wrist. “i’m not lying down!”

“you think just grabbing my wrist can stop me?” he snickered, harshly tugging the blanket like a magician pulling a tablecloth off the table while leaving the dishes unscathed. you plop over face first onto the bed as you try to scramble for the blanket, but fail miserably. tsukishima couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

you roll onto your back and pout over his laughter. “what’s so funny?”

“i just don’t understand why you want to stay awake so bad. you’re clearly exhausted.” tsukishima said as he gently stroked your hair, almost trying to lull you to sleep. had he scratched a certain part of your head, you would’ve been a goner and he knew it.

“because i…” you sit up, continuing to resist your inevitable slumber. “i wanna spend more time just with you. you’re too important to me.”

“you’re important to me too.” he replied. “and if you weren’t, i wouldn’t care about your health.”

you can’t help but smile at his words. curse him for caring so much, you almost want to say, but how could you? it’s not like you’d rather he didn’t give a damn at all, you would never. but still, you can’t resist wanting to lay your eyes on him as long as you humanly could.

“ass.” you say, a giggle escaping your mouth with ease.

“butt.” tsukishima grinned, leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. his kiss felt like a spell to you, and you’d be pulled in each and every time.

as you lay down now, the only source of light being the lamp on the bedside table, you find yourself starting to succumb to the sleep you fought so hard to resist. tsukishima took notice, pulling the blanket over your body and reaching his hands to scratch your head. you fell asleep within seconds, just as he predicted.

tsukishima couldn’t be mad seeing you in this state. sure, he missed you like hell all day, but watching you now, looking so peaceful, tsukishima knew this was one of his favorite sights in the world. if he could sit here and just stare at you like this all day, he would do it instantly.

“i love you, y/n.” he said, gently caressing your cheek, hoping he wouldn’t wake you up. “i know i should say it out loud more often, but i hope you know that i do. there aren’t enough words to describe the feeling, but i love you.“

even if you didn’t hear tsukishima, you could still feel his love just from him sitting beside you. you feel it when you look at his face down to when you yap your mouth off while he just listens. you would never feel this with anyone else, and you would forever try to savor it.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Sweet Dreams--Part 12

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted. 

Weeks are passing and maybe more is blooming between you and Calum than might meet the eye.

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert.

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

The snap of the camera sounds well after the flash of the light. Then behind it, what sounds like a thousand more shutters erupt. The flashes blink like the silver dots Calum used to call angels when he was a child in his vision. As he approaches the podium, Calum thinks less about the blinking lights. The lights don’t slow him down like they used to. They don’t hurt as much as they used to. This is all well practiced throughout the years. He smiles, lifting a hand in acknowledgement at the crowd that’s gathered. Since the vote, Calum’s been keeping an eye on the way the funds have been helping those in need, continually surveying those that took place in his initial conversations and polls. Things seem to be going well. But at the conclusion of this year, there still are four seats that will need to be filled. 

It’s unconventional for Calum to even bring this discussion to the floor for the public. The truth of the matter is, he knows he can’t serve a community and people that he knows very little about. He doesn’t know their concerns. He doesn’t know what specific things are plaguing the majority. He’s sure there’s even more pressing things for select groups--everyone has their own prioritization but still Calum’s not on the pulse like he wants to be. So, he’s here now to re-introduce the surveys and forms available to the public. He wants them to know he is listening. Though it is tedious work to review those surveys on a quarterly basis, Calum’s happy to have a team willing to do the nitty gritty work--him included. 

“Thank you for joining me here today. I know we’re closing in on the holidays soon and food and family are most likely at the forefront of everyone’s minds, but still it means a lot that you’ve still shown up here today,” Calum starts, working at the button of his suit jacket. “I’m also happy to see some pretty familiar faces too.”

And it’s true, as Calum peers out at the swarm of reporters, there are a few faces he’s learned to anticipate to see. A few laughs rise from the crowd and Calum takes a moment to glance down at his notes. It’s not a full on written speech, but it is a pretty tightly packed list of talking points.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time today, folks. It is a Friday afternoon after all and I’m not a cruel man. We’re at the tail end of the year and after a particularly tight win in ensuring that additional funds are processed for those in need, it is still very much my intent to keep on the pulse of public concerns. I may be a man a little removed from the day to day struggles of the average person. I am a man aware that the reality of my day to day is vastly different from others. This, most likely, won’t be news to some. But I am hoping that by taking just a few minutes here today, I am able to encourage people to participate actively in their politics and re-introduce them to a tool to express their voice directly. 

“As it has been for the twenty years or so, on our parliament’s website there is a section which allows the public to write into us about concerns they have--whether it be about your specific counties roads, or library, or school--you have the space to let us know what is and what is not working for you. Now, to address concerns, I am sure people will have: yes, this was originally buried and hard to navigate to from the home page. There is a lot of news that we do try to share with you all and information we know you need to access more easily. Yet, I do not want this to be a continued excuse that frustrates people to the point where they believe that their feedback is not valued. 

“It is, in fact, the opposite. It is important that I know exactly what challenges are being faced day in and day out for my people. I am here to serve you. Given this goal to become more increasingly aware, I’ve worked with our designers to create the “Talk to Us” button.” 

Calum waves now to the screen behind him, which in the reflection in some of the glasses from those in the front row, he can see the slide is now showing. The home page--a stale blue--lights up behind him. “The home bar will now, at the conclusion of this press conference, include a direct link to the form, entitled, “Talk to Us”. When you click on this link, you’ll be asked to inform us of location specific details, if necessary, as well as being able to write directly and freely to your government on the actions you see that we need to take or directions you’d like us to head.”

A small murmur starts from the crowd, but it remains low and dies down soon too. Calum knows that soon a new slide should be appearing that showcases an example of the form itself so he continues on, slow and clearly as he speaks, “We will be launching in the new year the opportunity for you to respond to surveys we have created as well once you click on this link. These surveys will be no more than 10 questions at a time and participation is voluntary. The contents of these surveys will be a combination of concerns we have as your government and concerns brought up by you individually. Consider it a feedback loop. The more you tell us about issues, and the more you participate in those voluntary surveys, the better we can serve you. Concerns brought up through the Talk to Us function will be reviewed on a quarterly basis. We hope to hear from you soon.”

“Any questions?” Calum prompts, taking in the faces and notes being scribbled down. A couple hands are being raised after a few seconds. “Yes,” Calum notes, seeing a man in a sky blue button up start to raise his hand. 

He introduces himself and his associated press. “Considering that this function has existed on the website long before now, do you have any thoughts on why previous administrations haven’t taken to making this more accessible until now?”

A question Calum anticipated and he hates the way it pits administrations against each other. “I can’t speak for why previous ones haven’t considered reorganizations of the public website. But as we gain more literacy about user experience and design, it has become clearer than ever that the front page of any website is the most important in getting people to what they need as quickly as possible. We are working with some SEO strategies as well to help ensure that this link does show up in the first two pages of search engine results as well. There’s an entirely new field in politics revolving around online presences and social media. Our drive now is also tied to the direct evolution of this technology in the last few years as well.”

It’s a lot of hot air, even Calum knows that, but he has to say it this way. Has to make sure he’s careful of those that have come before him. Something so simple as adding a link seems obvious now but may not have been obvious before. 

Calum moves on to the next person--a woman, in a pink almost orange top, who gives her name and associated press as well. “Is there any plan to move these functions to an app perhaps in the future?”

“Not currently at this time, no,” Calum answers. “But the page itself will allow users that need it to use speech to text, screen readers, dark mode backgrounds and ensure to adhere to accessibility guidelines as well.”

Another man raises his hand, a white and black striped shirt. Calum signals to him for him to ask his question. After his name and press, the man continues on, “Are there concerns about backlash? People feeling like their concerns aren’t being addressed fast enough or feeling like there’s a ranking system when it comes to concerns.”

“Our team has assessed as thoroughly as we can the best way to sustain the use of this forum and survey platform. We won’t be able to get to every concern sent in and we will have to look at volume as it relates to each individual item raised. But we hope that by establishing the quarterly review timeline, we can be transparent enough to the public about why things may seem to be moving much slower than they anticipated. I have a team established, me included, who will be continually reviewing what is coming in and how efficient are current practices as well.”

“So, you’re really not afraid of the dirty work,” the man teases. The room bubbles with a soft bout of laughter. 

Calum laughs as well. “No, I’m not afraid of the dirty work. It is valuable work to do as I’ve come to learn.” Calum is a little afraid he might be spreading himself a bit thin by taking this one, but should he need to take a step back, he already has people he can pull in to help the team as well. Right now, there’s a lot of the paid interns doing the footwork, but Calum hopes this plan creates a big enough need that he can hire some of them on as full time staffer positions in the next two years. 

Calum, keeping an eye on the time, makes mention that he can only take two more questions to ensure he sticks to his early promise of not sucking up their entire afternoon. So he moves on to another lady in purple. She stands with a smile. “It appears that your special friend seems to be making an impression on you. My particular question--”

“I’m sorry, what?” Calum interrupts. “Who’s making an impression on me?”

Her face falls for a moment, but she recovers with an awkwardly thick laugh. “I think it’s quite obvious.”

Calum’s brows furrow. Part of him wonders if this person is referring to you. But this hardly seems like the place for it. Perhaps there’s something else he’s missing. “Well, color me surprised, because I am genuinely unable to follow your logic and statement. Could you clarify what you mean?”

The woman laughs again, but she begins to fidget with the cap of her pen. Maybe Calum’s not wrong about his initial assessment. But the seconds tick on and he’s not sure if he’s going to gloss over it or let her sit in her discomfort. She finally speaks but her voice shakes, “I just-I mean it’s obvious between your speech before the vote and the photos now that have repeatedly surfaced.”

More now than ever Calum’s positive what she’s been trying to hint at--you.  There’s hardly been news of the two of you lately, seeing as you worked, painted, and fussed over your siblings, Calum and you hadn’t been out in the public much over the last few weeks. Maybe there were pictures of your late night run for cookies at Calum’s insistence last week. But that hardly feels worthy of being brought up in a political press conference. 

“I’m sorry. Can you remind me of your name again?” Calum asks. “I think I missed it initially.”

“Pamela,” she offers though she does have to repeat it given how softly she says it the first time. Like how Calum imagines a child reacts to getting in trouble--sheepish and embarrassed. 

“And your press?”

“Times--Politics division.”

“Thank you, Pamela. I think given the particular reason for this conference this is not the place to divulge into personal affairs--mine, yours, or anyone else’s. Now, I do believe that Times sees you as talented and nuanced at political coverage, lest you wouldn’t be in the room responsible for covering their story about our meeting. I know this news is relatively small and for someone like you it may not take you more than an hour to write, edit, and publish. So let’s ensure that we continue to show Times your brilliance at politics. That sound good?”

She nods, fervently so that the strands she’d tucked behind her ear fall out again. “Ye-yes, Your Highness. I’m sorry.”

Part of him wants to say no worries. But he is a bit annoyed by such a comment she attempted to make, the things she might’ve been trying to insinuate. It could be harmless and it could’ve been so much more sinister. Calum merely nods. “Apology accepted. Now, what’s your question?”

“Thank-thank you. My question is, uh, in regards to the longevity of this new launch, can we expect this to be a long term investment in your tenor when you transition to take over for your father?”

Calum nods at the question. “As long as I remain at the helm, I do intend to continue to promote and invest in transparency on how the public can and should influence their government. The ‘Talk to Us’ is essentially launch zero, if you will. It’s, again, a function that’s been integrated into the site for years now. But I hope that these initial changes to its location help open the door for much more political discourse between the public and parliament.”

Her descent back to her seat is not graceful by any means. Pamela dives back to her seat and Calum feels a small pang of guilt in his gut. “Thank you again for your time,” Calum turns to address the entire room. “I fear we’re out of time for today. But I do greatly appreciate you spending your Friday afternoon with me. I hope you all have a great weekend.”

Calum steps away from the podium and sees Pamela still buried in her pad. Perhaps, she hadn’t meant harm, but the more Calum let slide, the more people would feel brave with their off handed comments, or worse probes into his personal life. This is a world he’d learned to navigate thanks to the years he’d been raised in. You deserve any and all amounts of privacy that can be scraped together. 

His phone is returned to him when Calum returns to the wings. “Great work out there,” Miranda comments before she turns back to her iPad. 

Calum watches her squint, releasing a sigh before he reaches up to her hair and takes the pair of red glasses down. She’d finally caved in getting the prescription but still refused at times on wearing them. “You might even be able to tell me I did a better job if you could see it.”

“Well my hair’s made the lenses greasy,” she huffs. 

Calum offers his spare handkerchief tucked away into the inner pocket of the suit jacket. “Keep it for the sake of your eyeballs please.”

Miranda hums at the offer, which Calum knows will most likely be her only response to it. “I’ll keep an eye out for the response about Pamela’s probe. Should we ask Times to not put her back on the rotation?”

This question sounds genuine and when Calum turns the corner, he risks a glance over to Miranda. Nothing follows the question--no quip, no retort. For a moment, Calum’s positive it’s a trick question but the silence lingers and weighs for longer than usual. “Uh, she asked a good question in the end.”

“Yes, she did. But from what we’ve discussed, we are in the ‘loose lips, sink ships’ position. And this is your relationship, so speak now before I make the call.”

“Don’t box her out,” Calum returns. “Doing so might send too strong of a message and we’re not really in a position to bring down the hammers.”

Miranda nods. “Could make us look desperate and unfair too. You handled it exceptionally well though today, so I am very proud of that. Next week, the fitting is scheduled as a heads up for the charity event. This does mean, I have to ask, will you and your partner be walking the carpet together? We wouldn’t want to use this event for any sort of announcement, but if the two of you are comfortable with the idea, then we’ll need to just review the etiquette for the event with them.”

Now that’s the kind of question expected from Miranda. Direct, no nonsense, objective focused and lasered in. “I’ll talk to them. They’ll be on display with their painting though and my volunteer time.”

“It’s whatever the two of you decide. I’m just saying should you two walk the carpet together, we make no announcements. You walk, you talk to a couple reporters that are outside but you don’t say anything about the relationship. Even if asked.”

Calum nods, tucking his folder up under his arm after pressing the call button for the elevator. Miranda’s right. The charity event would not be the right place for him to say anything. And he’d be a hypocrite now after handling Pamela to try and steal the stage for such an important event. The two of you could walk it separately in blocks close to each other--he goes first for a minute or so and then you follow. But the two of you would inevitably wind up locked arm in arm as the night progressed. But to walk the carpet together and explicitly not answer any questions would be more awkward in the end. Though, it would matter at the end of it what you preferred. 

“How much should I bet that you need a final decision by the time we meet for the fitting?” Calum asks, letting Mirand into the elevator first. 

Miranda snorts at the question. “I wouldn’t bet anything you couldn’t afford.”

You’re supposed to be going back home tonight after your shift. Though it feels like a good portion of your belongings have drifted into the palace, you spend a decent portion of your time at your own place too. Where you live is technically closer to your job and easier on your car for sure. Calum takes a look at the time. It’s pushing just a couple minutes past four pm. The dinner rush would undoubtedly be starting in the next hour or so and Calum knows he can’t squeeze any extra time out of his day. 

But he spies a text from you, from ten minutes ago, and wonders if he could snag you still once he gets back to his office. The preview of the text stares back up at Calum, Have I ever told you just how…. It piques his interest and he swipes to start input his passcode. “You’ll have an answer Monday,” Calum returns to Miranda. 

“Sounds good.”

Have I ever told you just how hot it is to watch you in that suit dealing with the press? Because if not, I really should tell you how hot it is to watch you in that suit dealing with the press. 

Another text comes through just as Calum starts to type. 

In all seriousness, thanks for handling that particular comment like you did. I know sooner or later things will come out in the open, probably the charity event undoubtedly, but it means a lot for you to still keep this close to the vest still. And you are hot too, which helps. Love you. 

The doors open again and Miranda gestures in Calum’s periphery. He looks up to see her holding out his handkerchief. “Thanks.”

“Didn’t I tell you to keep it so that you have no excuses for not wearing your glasses?” Calum laughs. 

Miranda’s body half way between the doors keeps them from shutting but she eyes him, lips curled up in an unamused smile. “I think it’s a little inappropriate.”

“And I think you should be able to see.”

“Take it,” she orders, waving the cloth at him to take it. “I have a lens cloth in my office.”

Calum edges closer to the opening of the machine. She refuses to meet his gaze and it makes the suspicion increase tenfold.  “Show me. Because if you’re lying.”

“Oh, fine,” Miranda huffs. “I lost it. The same fucking day I got the damn glasses and I lost the cloth.”

“Then keep it,” he laughs. “I’ve got too many of them anyway.”

“Thanks,” she mutters and then starts down towards her office. 

“You’re welcome,” Calum calls out watching the doors slide closed. 

His attention turns back to your text even with the tuft of laughter he releases at Miranda’s stubbornness. I hope I wasn’t too harsh on her. But thank you, baby. I’ll keep that in mind for later. He adds a winking emoji before continuing on,  Is it bad yet for you guys? Love you more.  He asks even though he’s sure he won’t get a response until either your next break or until you leave for the night. But he sends it anyway and swipes through his other missed messages. 

There’s one from Luke in the groupchat, We’ve got Forest reserved at 5:00 PM the Saturday before Michael’s birthday. The restaurant does close earlier than most at 8 just as a heads up. 

Calum hadn’t been fully aware that Forest was even an option for the dinner. He’d tossed out a few options, one was a sushi place that Michael loved for late lunch or a really early dinner and the other was a French inspired cuisine. But it wouldn’t shock Calum if he’d lost track of the names. It does make Calum wonder if it would be feasible to ask you to join. Would it be too awkward for you?

There’s a few more texts in the chat so Calum scrolls down. Ashton asks about the other options they’d discussed and Luke replied that they’d been booked for the time for the time or wouldn’t let reservations be made this far in advance. Forest has a three week window for reservations which allows them to get to the slot now. Given how rapidly schedules shift, Calum knows it’s better to take this now rather than wait too much longer. 

Luke, how many did you confirm for? Calum asks.

They can only support a group of 12 max. So I went with that. I can keep checking other places too in the meantime.

Calum settles into his office chair, popping a few more buttons at his dress shirt. A text from Michael comes through. Forest is cool with me. My parents and I are doing things on my actual birthday. We should be good at 12. There’s you three, me, our plus ones and then a couple dudes I worked with previously I’d want to do dinner with. We can say 9 for a bigger group at some local bars and then call it a night by midnight if that’s cool?

Sounds good to me, Luke replies. 

Cool with me, Calum answers and Ashton replies with the same sentiment of an affirmative. 

Calum wipes to take him back to his text message threads and taps on your name. Michael’s birthday dinner is going to be 5PM on the 17th. It’s at Forest. Do you know if you’ll be working? 

The answer feels like a no. You wouldn’t know because he doubts the schedules made that far out in advance. But Calum prays. He hopes maybe by the cosmos divine art you can see the text message here soon. A watch pot never boils and his eyes glued to the screen won’t make you respond faster. So Calum turns back to his office computer, saves some work for the templates, and data collection. It is a Friday and there’s very little work that he’ll be able to get done or want to get done at this moment. 

The elevator settles and the doors open up to the residency hall. Calum, if he ever had a tie on, would absolutely be tugging it off his neck as he walks towards his bedroom door. Instead, he only has the buttons he works at on his shirt. There’s still no text from you. He knows the dinner rush has gone up in its major swing. But when his phone buzzes, and Calum checks it to be sure if it’s not you, he contemplates if he’s going to agree to the schedule he made of working out in the evenings. He knows he should. There’s been a lot of time spent indoors, cooped up by his computer and various documents. It’ll be good for him, even if it’ll hurt just a little, so Calum pulls himself free from the dress pants, shirt, and shoes. He dawns himself into the basketball shorts, his workout sneakers and a t-shirt. He even takes the stairs back down. 

The air is crisp outside; it hits his lungs sharply and Calum’s grateful for it. The grass crunches just a little under his feet as he settles the free weights down. Calum starts with stretches, trying to loosen the left hip that likes to get a bit stiff on him. It’s an old injury, probably from one of the few times Calum pushed himself a little too hard in games. He hardly feels it when he’s on top of his physical therapy regime. But he falls off every few weeks when things get busy and the stiffness makes itself known more and more. Calum knows he should coordinate another appointment with his physical therapist about it. Maybe during the holiday break he’ll snag an appointment.  

His headphones play a thrash of guitars, the high tssing of the symbols on the drum kit come filtering through. Calum pulls the dumbbell up, the tightening of his bicep letting him know he’s doing the exercise right. As much as it can feel like a drag, as much as the weights do get heavier as the sets go on, Calum finds the small sliver of peace. When he’s got no thoughts but keeping track of his reps. The motions are up and down, the brace of his core, the inhale and exhale. Calum focuses on the press, the pushing of the ground away from his body as he goes through a round of pushups. 

Twenty-nine, thirty. 

His music lowers for a moment, a chime louder than his music. Calum keeps pushing up, taking himself back down, and then pushing back up. Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six. Another chime cuts through. 

Forty. 

His knees brush the ground first as he releases his plank and digs out his phone. I wish I’d seen this sooner, reads your reply. Turner just asked me if I was okay with working that day because of a large party and I said yes. 

Calum pants, the sweat running down the lines of his face. Though it’s cold outside, the jumping jacks, the exertion of his exercises have made him sweat. Calum can’t lie, part of him is  tempted to ask if you could switch out the hours, but he knows. You’re not just working to kill time in the day. You’re working to survive. You’re working to take care of yourself and potentially as it looms your siblings too. 

Calum wipes at his brow before working over the screen to reply. Well, the invitation for you to join for drinks after will still stand if you’re up for it. 

Sounds good. I’ll make sure Michael’s well taken care of though. Promise. To make up for missing out on the festivities, could you find out his favorite sweet treat?

Calum nods without thinking. I will. Let me know when you get home, yeah?

Of course. Also, to answer your earlier question: it’s busy as fuck. I’m literally in the freezer right now trying to compose myself just for a second. 

Calum snorts at the mental image--you in your uniform tucked into the walk-in freezer. But he also knows what it means, just how busy things have gotten. A piece of guilt rises up in his throat, like bile it burns. He’d never meant to make things worse. He never meant to put you in such positions. But nothing changes what’s happened. The only thing now is forward. The only thing now is what could be made of what’s happening in the present. 

Tell the tomatoes to be kind to you, Calum replies. 

“Don’t tell me I need to call the nurse with the way you’re breathing.” 

Calum looks up to his father, who grins down at him. Calum laughs at the quip, as patchy as it comes. “No, no need to call the nurse.”

“Dinner’s ready, you know. Pretty sure it’s some fancy pasta I’ll never be able to pronounce."

With how thick the early evening is around them, how dark it is for only how early it feels, Calum is not shocked that it is dinner time. He nods, wiping at his dripping brow again. “I need to clean up but I’ll be there in a minute.”

His dad lingers and the words are pressing at the back of Calum’s teeth, if everything is okay, but his dad beats him to the punch. David grunts as he lowers himself into the grass next to Calum. “You’ll help me up, right?”

“Yeah, Pops, I will. What’s up? I thought dinner was ready with some fancy pasta you can’t pronounce.”

“It is, it is. But I was, well, I know there’s been a lot of conversation that’s sort of up in the air about when me and your mother are going to take a step back from the game. And I know it’s something you’re thinking about. You did real well in your press conference today. I do think that sometimes the best solutions are the most simple ones. I just wanted to see when the two of us could really sit down and talk about what that transition will look like and when we’re both comfortable with it. And, and I’m not asking we do it right now. But soon, in the new year, we look at our schedules and find a good day for it.”

It’d been an ever approaching deadline--something that would happen and would happen sooner rather than later. But it still felt far away in praxis. Transitioning of power was a thing that was approaching but it hadn’t hit the horizon. Now, though, as Calum watches his father, he thinks perhaps he’d been counting on at least a couple more years, something closer to thirty than not but nothing ever happens like anyone wants for it too. 

Calum nods though at his father’s request. “Yeah, we can find a time for that.”

“Good, good,” David returns, patting at Calum’s knee. “And things are okay? Anything you need to talk about?”

“Things are okay.” They’re far from perfect, but they’re not bad. Yet, Calum doesn’t voice that. The balance in the universe was not to make things perfect by his definition. 

“That doesn’t sound too convincing. You alright?”

“It’s--it’s just life, Dad. You know? Every up has a down.”

“What kind of downs are we talking?”

From the night, Calum catches the scratch of the crickets tuning up for the night time songs. The darkness is closing in rapidly and ruthlessly. As much as Calum did want to voice his concerns, he also knows his father is going to be a solution oriented person. The second a problem crops up, his father wants to find a solution for it. Calum’s not really looking for solutions right now. “It’s anthills,” Calum answers. Because they are, they are small concerns in the grand scheme of everything. “But I can handle them. I know I can.”

“Well, if you need reinforcements, I got your back.”

“Will do, Dad. Thanks.”

“And, and if you need to just vent, I’m here for that too.”

It’s anthills. And they were small, but still mighty. “Guess, it’s just sort of scary to know I’ll actually be taking over, you know? It was real, but was always sort of in the distance.”

“It is scary,” David agrees. “It’s very scary. But just because you’d be taking over doesn’t mean I’m not there to help. Consider me a consultant.”

“What’s your retainer fee?” Calum jokes, watching the grin bloom on his father’s face. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. But it’s okay if it’s scary. You’re human doing something new for the very first time. It’s going to be scary. And the next time you do something for the first time, that’ll be scary too. But the more you do the things, the less scary it gets you know. It’s like when you learned to drive. You were terrified to get behind that wheel. But look at you now. A driving whizz. It’ll take you some time, but I’ll still be there for you. Promise, son.”

It’s reassuring, certainly. Calum won’t be doing it all alone, but it’ll be his face and his name that’s riding on everything that comes after the transition. That’s the part that terrifies him. Yet, Calum can’t control what hasn’t happened yet. To worry about what hasn’t happened wouldn’t only serve to paralyze Calum in the long run. But the fear bubbles, like a pot left on simmer, Calum can feel it in his gut. It’s going to be a strange time. “Thanks, Pops,” Calum offers softly. 

“You’re welcome. Now, help me up, yeah?”

Calum laughs as he works himself up. “No one told you sit down on the grass.”

“Oh, hush.”

It’s with a few grunts, but Calum helps his dad up. “You good?” Calum asks and gets a nod in response. “I’m going to get these weights inside and at least wash my hands and face before joining you and Mum.”

“See you inside.” 

Calum’s left with a pat on his back, but as the night chirps around him, he hopes that he’s not really alone in all of this. The weights are a little heavier than they were before but Calum gets them up with no issue. He ducks into one of the bathrooms on the first floor, washing his hands before splashing water over his face. He watches the water drip down his chin. He wants to tell you--how scared he is, how much he doesn’t want to do this, but knows he’s got no other choice. But will it seem trivial?

Yet somehow right behind the doubt, he hears your voice, telling him that it doesn’t matter if it’s small, all that matters is that he’s scared. And that it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay, Calum chants to himself down the hallway and back into the kitchen. It’ll all be okay. Because it has to be okay. Because it’s been six years of Calum in Cabinet and it’s all worked out so far. So it’ll keep working out in the end. 

“Oh, you stink,” Joy laughs, as Calum slides into the bench across the table. 

“I washed my hands and face at the very least,” he grins-- a rule ingrained into him from his childhood. 

She shakes her head, sliding the plate closer his way. “At least there was that.”

The warm water is a welcomed reprieve, after dinner and clambering his way back upstairs, Calum can feel himself craving bed. It’s early, he knows. But the fear from transition is heavy on his bones. It’s not even late enough for you to be off work so he can’t call as you drive back to your apartment. And he wants to stay awake long enough for that, for the hum of your drive and the soft lull of your voice. 

But in the stillness, Calum holds to the quiet voice in the back of his head. What will it all mean when he takes over? All the while you asked him what he wanted to do, what really made him happy, and all the while Calum answered that he would always do his duty, he would serve. And he’d be proud to serve; he is. But his father has already been the crutch. Calum’s never been on his own doing this. Does he actually want to do it? Or is this just the natural reaction of fear?

It all feels like being underwater. When he falls into his mattress, Calum feels the whoosh of air like a head ducking under the surface of water. There is a world above him--the duty he’s always followed, the path that always felt like loomed before him no matter what twists and turns he took in his life. But he is in the water, arms scoping water at his sides to keep him afloat and his movements feel slow and sluggish. Is this really all that he’s wanted? Could it all be just the things Calum���s told himself to believe so it makes it feel less like force and more like choice?

The ticking of the clock is long, but at some point his ears goes numb to the sound, focused instead of keeping up with the race of his thoughts. He chases them round and round as they go. 

The ringing of his phone pulls him back up and out of the rush and thump of his internal dialogue. Calum fumbles for a moment to get the phone off the charger, but when he finally gets a firm grip, he answers the call. 

“Hi, love,” you answer--certain and confident that it’s even Calum who’s answered. 

“Hi, baby,” he returns, falling back down into the mattress again. 

“What is it? Something on your mind?”

“How’d you know?” he laughs. To him, he sounds all the same. But the immediacy in your question makes him wonder if he’s really as good as he thinks at keeping things under wraps with you.

“Just a feeling,” you return. 

“I think my number’s been called. Dad wants to talk in the new year about transitioning out of power.”

You hum. In the background, Calum hears the beeps of cars, the rush of the wind as you walk, probably to your car. “It was always coming. But I sense something more.”

“It’s scary. Didn’t think it would be so soon. Don’t know if it’s fear or genuine how much I’m worried about taking over.”

“Fear of what?” you question. “Fear just because it’s new or something else?”

Calum pulls his phone from his hear, tapping to switch the conversation to speakerphone. It’s buying him time. Because if he says it out loud, it feels like he’s making it true. But he’s not going to hide from you. He won’t let himself do that. “Fear that I don’t know what I really want.”

“We’re all afraid of that.” Your voice echoes against the four walls of his room, fills the space in such a way that he could hardly imagine that you’re just in the bathroom. 

“You seemed pretty confident about cooking.”

“It’s a means to an end. Something that I can use anywhere to make ends meet. I like cooking, at the end of the day it helps me not feel so bad about life. But I don’t know if I was put on this planet just to cook or not.”

“I guess that’s the question, huh. Have I been put on this planet just to work in politics?”

“Well,” you start, a pause echoes with the thud of your car door. “Have you? Have you been put on this planet just to work in politics?”

He wants to say no. But if he’s honest, this has always been the end of the line for him. Taking over as King was his finish line. That was the stamp on his youth, to mail it off and close down the chapter. Calum’s always thought that this is in fact the end. It’s a means to an end. But even if Calum wants to agree that he hasn’t been put on this earth just to wind up as King, he doesn't know what else is there?

“But what am I if not meant to be King?”

“Well, you’re Calum. Who trained for a summer in Brazil for football, who plays the guitar, writes some songs. You’re Calum who loved his dog for every second he walked the earth. You’re Calum who baked his mother a birthday cake and it actually held together. You’re Calum, who manages to find just the right words when they’re needed, who loves deeply and selectively. And you’ll be so much more too. But the truth of the matter, you will never find that answer in a day, in just one conversation. It’ll take years. You’ll be a King, and work in politics, and be so much more. This is not an either-or situation, maybe. I know I asked previously about it. And I apologize if that made it seem like you had to choose. Perhaps, you don’t have to choose.”

Perhaps, you don’t have to choose. “Yeah,” Calum agrees, gaze focusing in on his ceiling. He does actually miss those stars now that he thinks about it. He wonders where he could find the stencils again. Would it be stupid to paint them back? “Maybe you’re right.”

[cobaltperun]

i have a request if possible ? for a tara carpenter x reader , or any jo character as you see fit , but in my head , it’s always been tara and no gf au-

so basically , if you’re familiar with 5 seconds of summer , every time i listen to them (their self titled album, specifically heartbreak girl) i always come up with like scenarios of r, mindy, amber and wes being 5sos basically and having r write that song about tara and how she’s always calling/texting r about the problems she’s having with chad without realizing that r is in love with her

which ofc leads r to go to amber, mindy and wes to write that song together and having them preform at a local bar/club or something because they’re locally known and tara, sam, chad and the rest of the friend group is in the crowd, being supportive- but once they hear the song , they immediately know who it’s about and just look at tara awkwardly , and- that’s as far as i’ve gotten

Heartbreak Girl

Tara Carpenter x gn!Reader (Request)

First of all, thank you for the request, it kind of just flowed out and here it is. I went with gender-neutral Reader since you didn't specify the gender. I hope you'll enjoy reading this.

Masterlist

Word count: 2.7k

"I know I should have seen it coming, but it still hurts, you know? I still love Chad, I just can't get over him," she sobbed, and you stopped pacing around your room to lean back and rest your head against the wall. You knew the story, you heard it from Tara countless times, and you may have heard it from Mindy even before Tara told you, mostly because Mindy got a bit pissed that Chad would end his relationship with Tara like that. Tara and Chad were in a relationship, they worked the summer job together and met Liv. Chad fell in love and broke up with Tara. The rest was history, and Tara, sharing Chad's circle of friends, and still being in love with him, couldn't move on.

One time Tara told you she figured it would be easier if he cheated on her. He didn't. He just sat down with her one day and said how he felt. Two weeks later Chad and Liv went on their first date and the circumstances kept Tara and Chad as somewhat friends.

"I'm sorry for being a bother, Y/N," she must have noticed your silence.

"You're not being a bother, Tara, I just don't know what to say that I already didn't tell you before," you bit your bottom lip, knowing full well you were lying. You knew what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell her you loved her, that in her heartbreak she kept breaking your heart too. Another sob made you speak before you could think things through. "Let's go out, just the two of us," you suggest, realizing too late what you were saying. "As friends, of course, just to get your mind off of everything," you quickly backtracked, hoping the explanation was sufficient enough, hoping she couldn't hear the nervous tapping of your foot against the floor, or the crack in your voice when you said 'friends' or anything else that could give you away.

Because, as much as you loved her, as much as you wanted to be with her, you didn't want to push her into another relationship when she was vulnerable and still heartbroken. You also didn't want to be her way of getting over Chad and nothing more. And you absolutely didn’t want to take advantage of her emotional turmoil.

"I'd love to, Y/N," it sounded like she stopped crying, thought she still sniffled a bit. "Thanks for being my friend and always being there to cheer me up," her words, even if you just encouraged them yourself, still hurt you.

"Don't mention it, I'm here for you," you brushed it off, subconsciously hoping maybe, just maybe, she'd realize how you feel on her own. You had no idea how mixed the signals you were sending her looked every now and then. In less than a minute you went from proclaiming friendly hanging out to promising to be there for her. "When do you want to meet up?"

Tara paused for a moment. "I'll call you tomorrow at ten to figure that out. Is that okay?"

You nodded and then frowned when you realized a moment later you were on the phone with her. "Of course."

And so you said your goodbyes, and you just slumped into the chair and dropped your head down to the table. A bit recklessly you tossed the phone to the bed on your side and silently expressed gratitude that it didn't hit the wall or drop to the floor. You sighed and placed your hands over your head, feeling like you were stuck in a never-ending cycle with Tara Carpenter.

Against your better judgment, you grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and began writing.

~X~

The friend date went well, better than you imagined it would and you and Tara hung out an hour longer than either of you anticipated. It was a nice change of pace and for a moment you actually convinced yourself you didn't feel anything romantic for her. For a moment, you were reminded of simpler times, when Tara really was just a friend in your eyes. That time was a long time ago, but sometimes you wished you could go back to that, at the very least everything was much simpler back then.

The paper waiting for you at your table broke that illusion and you grabbed your guitar, maybe you had something here after all. As you sat down to try different tunes you sent a message to the band, Mindy, Wes, and Amber, asking to meet up tomorrow for an additional practice.

~X~

The four of you met up in your garage where you kept your instruments, the guitars, and drums, anything else you needed you would just rent out for a couple of days. You were still a local band, so renting still saved you money.

"Let me see if I got everything right. You," Amber pointed at you, almost accusingly. "wrote this song about Tara and you don't want to confess how you feel?" she asked incredulously.

"Come on, it's not that obvious," you defended yourself and pointed at a line in the song. "See? Chad didn't exactly treat her bad, he just broke up with her."

"Yeah, sure, one line is going to convince everyone it isn't about Tara," Mindy added sarcastically and threw her arms up. "It's there for the dramatic effect, Y/N! Remember?" well, yeah, but still, were you really that obvious?

"She got you there," Wes wasn't helping.

You picked up your guitar and began playing the tune you thought would work well with the song. "Listen, I think we got something good here," you tried to focus on the song itself. "Regardless of who it was written for," you muttered.

"You're kidding, right? A sad tune? You're making this a ballad? No way," Mindy went to her drums. "This needs more energy," judging by the tone of her voice she wasn't budging on this. Well, at least she was on board.

"We are totally adding 'Thanks for being a friend' to the lyrics," Amber teased and you just groaned and buried your face in your hands.

"Don't forget being a sucker for anything Tara does," Wes joined in, causing all three of them to laugh at you.

"You're the worst," you muttered, too embarrassed to look at them. As it was the song that maybe could have passed as, you know, not absolutely obvious, might as well be named ‘Tara’ with how specific it was turning out to be.

~X~

Over the next month and a half, you and Tara fell into a bit of a habit. The first two weeks she continued sobbing, and you'd ask her to hang out. The week after that she just complained and you still asked her to hang out. The past few weeks she rarely even mentioned Chad during your calls, but she still insisted you were friends.

Honestly, just the fact that she seemed to be moving on as weeks went by mended your own heart. Somewhere along the line, you found out you were fine with the way things were. In a relationship or as friends, you wanted Tara in your life.

You walked her to her house, the backs of your hands occasionally brushing as you walked. The accidental touches became something both of you were comfortable with, as neither of you moved away from each other.

"You'll be performing tomorrow night, right?" Tara asked out of the blue.

You glanced at her and your eyes met. "Yeah. Are you going to come?" it wouldn't be the first time Tara would be in the crowd. Tara, Sam, Chad, Danny, Anika, and Liv were all supportive of your band, so they regularly came to your performances.

"You're not really asking that, are you? Of course, I'm going to come," she lightly jabbed your arm. "Besides, Mindy might have told me you guys have a new song you'll be performing for the first time in front of a crowd."

That little traitor. You cleared your throat to buy yourself a few extra seconds to get it together.

With the way things were going between you and Tara, you were almost tempted to scrap the song, but the other three voted against it. "No pressure then, it's not like we haven't had a new song in almost four months now," what could you say, it was a bit of a drought period as far as creativity went.

Tara laughed and just for a moment you thought you saw something else in her eyes, something similar to the way you would so often look at her. "You'll do great," she offered a much-needed encouragement as the two of you stopped in front of her house.

"Guess this is it for tonight," you smiled at her.

"Mhm, I'm glad I was the one to ask you out tonight, as friends, of course," she took a step closer and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. And then you froze when she got on her tiptoes and kissed your cheek. "Thank you, for always being there for me," somehow, this time she omitted the friend part.

"I," you cleared your throat once more. "did say I'd be here for you, didn't I?" you tried to brush it off as you usually did for months now.

The intensity of Tara's gaze captured all of your attention and for a moment you even considered leaning in. You didn't though, you weren't sure she felt the same, or that she actually moved on.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then?" she asked, lowering her gaze to your lips before quickly looking away.

You noticed it, and you wondered if Tara could hear how loud your heart was drumming in your chest. "Y-yeah," you finally stepped back from her, and the tension you were trying so hard to ignore began fading.

~X~

Tara pretty much threw herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. What was wrong with her? Falling in love with you so quickly and almost out of nowhere. Especially when you so explicitly insisted on hanging out as friends. Perhaps you were insisting too hard to cover your own feelings? A girl could hope, right?

She turned her playlist on, hoping to find some peace in music. As if to spite her, the first song that played was Brian Fallon's You Have Stolen My Heart and she nearly chucked her phone into a wall. Groaning she turned around and tucked herself into a blanket. It was entirely your fault. With your charming smile and clumsy mixed signals, she could never get a good read on them.

~X~

You were amazing on that improvised stage, just mesmerizing to watch and listen to and Tara found herself falling even harder. She also found herself ignoring Sam's teasing smile.

"Thank you, thank you! You are too kind! We'll wrap up the night with a premiere of our new song!" Wes yelled, hyping up the crowd.

"Let's hear an applause for Heartbreak Girl!" Mindy demanded, encouraging the crowd to interact with the four of you.

Tara was pulled to her feet by Anika and they both cheered. The name of the song, however, made Tara's heart skip a beat. Or was it the way you looked at her from the stage?

"You call me up, it's like a broken record, saying that your heart hurts. That you'll never get over him getting over you, and you end up crying. And I end up lying, 'cause I'm just a sucker for anything that you do," you sang, your eyes never leaving Tara's. It felt like there was no one else in the club but the two of you. But you weren't alone, and Tara felt the awkward stares directed at the back of her head.

Did you actually write a song for her?

"And when the phone call finally ends, you say "Thanks for being a friend" and I'm going in circles again and again," now she had no doubt, that the song really was about her. She stopped cheering and just stood there, taking the lyrics in.

She saw you hesitating, probably since you noticed her reaction, and she just smiled. You smiled back and continued.

"I dedicate this song to you, the one who never sees the truth, that I can take away you hurt, Heartbreak girl. Hold you tight straight through the daylight, I'm right here, when you gonna realize that I'm your cure, Heartbreak girl?" did you...? Were you saying what she thought you were saying?

She wasn't reading this wrong, was she?

"I bite my tongue, but I wanna scream out, you could be with me now. But I end up telling you what you wanna hear, but you're not ready. And it's so frustrating, he treats you so bad and I'm so good to you, it's not fair," her heart skips a beat as you continue, quoting the promise to call you tomorrow at ten and once again singing the chorus.

"I know someday it's gonna happen, and you'll finally forget the day you met him. Sometimes I'm so close to confession, I gotta get it through your head, that you belong with me instead," the look in your eyes, the eyes that told her 'This is it, I can't take it back now' it vanquished any doubt she may have had about how you felt.

She just wondered how long you felt that way about her without saying anything? Definitely before you first asked her to hang out as friends, but how long before that? And she felt like apologizing, for not noticing how you felt, for leaning on you for support even if it hurt you as well. And at the same time she fell even harder, because you were there for her even with everything you were feeling you were giving her all the time she needed.

~X~

The moment you ended the song and without any idea where the sudden boldness was coming from you jumped down from the stage and went over to Tara. You took a few deep breaths as you closed the distance and offered her your hand, the guitar still in your other hand.

Yeah, you didn't quite think that through.

Tara raised an eyebrow, clearly looking at the guitar, but then shrugged and took your hand.

"Uh, what now?" you asked sheepishly.

"Isn't that something you were supposed to figure out? Before you jumped down and came over?" she gave you a cheeky, teasing smile.

"I didn't think I'd get this far," you admitted, causing Tara to laugh.

"Just go behind the stage dumbass!" Mindy yelled, with the microphone still on. "And leave the guitar there while you're at it!"

You lowered your head and winced, trying to hide the embarrassment clearly visible on your face. Tara wasn't doing much better as she quickly pulled you behind the stage to escape the teasing.

You packed the guitar as both of you took time to compose yourself and catch a breath. "I really didn't think this through, did I?" you asked.

"No," Tara sat down on the chair near you. "You really didn't," she was fiddling with the loose thread on her shirt.

"I meant it, the song. Well, at least when I wrote it a month and a half ago," you decided to just be honest with her.

Tara raised her head to look at you, you could see hopefulness and uncertainty in her gaze. "What changed?"

You approached and sat down next to her. "I don't think you are still heartbroken," you took her hand.

Tara smiled. "I'm not. I'm in love with a clumsy musician that sucks at flirting," she leaned closer to you.

"Hey, it worked," you closed the distance, capturing her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "Mhm, how about we go on a proper date then?" she asked when the kiss ended and you couldn't think of any better idea.

[lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me]

could you write a quick thing abt hoon and comfort? like the s/o and hoon had an argument and then he makes it up to her. idk if it makes sense but hoon has been running thru my mind lately (never forgetting riki ofc tho)

-⭐️

missed date (request) ♪ park sunghoon

warnings: fluff, comfort, angst if you squint REALLY hard, pet names (angel, babe), gender neutral reader, really bad humor (its completely me), mentions of cuddling, hoon is so sweet :(, i think thats all!

this wasn’t the idea y/n had for the night. it was supposed to be the perfect night. sunghoon was supposed to come over and they were going to cook together and watch movies. that was until he didn’t show up. as y/n ignored the pinging phone, all from sunghoon trying to apologize and explain. the texts ended suddenly, but soon after, a thud comes from the window. what was that? they wonder. they look out the window to see their boyfriend outside, another rock in his hand ready to throw at the window. they open it and yell down at him “what the hell are you doing here sunghoon?”. “to apologize. please let me in y/n it’s really cold. i know im an ice skater and you call me elsa, but the cold does in fact bother me anyway”. they smile faintly at their boyfriends joke. “fine, i’ll be down in a second. go to the door” he smiles up at them as they close the window. they open the door and are immediately pulled into sunghoons arms. "i'm so sorry angel i didn't mean to forget. vocal practice ran late and i was just so tired that i went straight back to the dorm and fell asleep and i didn't wake up to my alarm-" he rambles on trying to explain himself for skipping their date. y/n couldn't help but smile at his adorable, apologetic state. "hey, it's okay hoon. don't worry" they say. "its not okay! you're upset and i'm such a shitty boyfriend!" they feel bad for him as he clearly felt terrible for the accident. they calmly explain to him "babe, im not upset. it was an innocent mistake. i'd much rather you get rest and accidentally miss our date, then not get rest and come tired or completely forget and we fight. its okay. i'm not mad.". "are you sure you're not mad?" he asks. "not at all" they say, smiling faintly at their worried boyfriend. he responds with a smile back, the adorable fangs that had charmed y/n peeking through. "come on, i expect serious cuddles after our missed date" y/n half jokes, "i couldn't think of a better way to make it up to you" sunghoon replies, the adoring tone clear in his voice. he loved his partner, and he couldn't think of a better way to spend his night then cuddling and watching movies with the person he loved most in this world.

masterlist

luckys note!: THROWING ROCKS AT YOUR WINDOW AT MIDNIGHTTT is what this imagine reminded me of and i LOVE it. if there's any 5sos fam reading this: hey im one of you🤭 but i hope this was good this is like my first written imagine so it might be a bit wonky LMAOO so im open to ways to improve my writing!! i hope you all enjoyed and i hope this is what you were looking for ⭐️ !!! thank you sososo much for your request i very much giggled and smiled a lot while writing this

© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📍) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

@siya-bean @ivyannemarie

(🎀) ANON/EMOJI LIST IS OPEN!

⭐️

[bratzforchris]

Hey could you do a Luke hemmings x reader story where reader is helping Luke write bloodline for his solo album WFTTWTAF 🥹❤️ because Sierra helped him irl I thought this would be sweet :)

Writing

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Just some little headcanons about writing WFTTWTAF with Luke :)

Pairing: Luke x gender neutral reader (romantic)

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short! I just haven't had much writing motivation for 5sos related stories since their fandom is so dead on here :/ I hope this is alright, though!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

☔︎ writing bloodline with luke is such an emotional experience, mostly because it involves him telling you parts of his past and experiences you haven't heard about before

☔︎ you two hardly write anywhere else besides his home studio, but sometimes you'll go over lyrics at the beach

☔︎ writing wfttwtaf with you is almost like therapy for luke. it lets him explain to you what he's feeling without saying it

☔︎ on release day, you two spend it at the beach; having a picnic, laughing, talking, and streaming the album

☔︎ you definitely help with tweaking some parts of bloodline, mostly because you can relate to how the emotions come through in the song

☔︎ honestly, his solo album makes you more in awe of your lover if that is even possible. it gives you a direct look into luke's soul

☔︎ "y/n, what do you think about this?"

"luke, that's perfect."

☔︎ sometimes, luke just needs to take a break by cuddling you and bouncing lyrics off of each other

[royaldaycare]

WELCOME TO MY BLOG!

Hello !! I'm Logan (or Johnny!) and welcome to my daycare! you can call me Logan, Lo, Johnny, big brother or dada! I also occasionally go by saint or my OC's callsign, Sparrow!

A little about me ! :

I use he/they/it pronouns as well as some neo's and xeno's too!

I'm trans, gay and asexual! I'm also questioning whether I am poly or not!

I am an age regressor and a caregiver! (my agere blog is @gh0stlyb34r !)

I'm 19 and my birthday is June 3rd!

I'm from the uk!

my anons! ;

💚 ,

I am a 100% sfw caregiver! any nsfw accounts will be blocked!

This blog is a safe space for regressors and caregivers alike! anyone that makes this blog an unsafe place will be blocked immediately

My rules!

dni ; nsfw, edsh, zionist, racist, homophobic, against Palestine, transphobic, ableist, trump supporters, anti agere, ddlg/abdl accounts, anti petre

boundaries ; keep all terms used for me either masc or gender neutral, do not flirt with me (even if it is as a joke or friendly), please keep all asks sfw.

My interests!

games ; call of duty, overwatch, resident evil 4, forza horizon, roblox (royale high, dress to impress, obby's and tycoons!), fnaf, poppy playtime, indigo park, red dead redemption 2, animal crossing new horizons, good pizza great pizza, hogwarts legacy, valorant, a little to the left, unpacking, mario kart 8, mario kart wii, just dance, the last of us

movies/shows ; deadpool & wolverine, deadpool, x-men, harry potter, fantastic beasts, atsv/itsv, marvel, star wars, the umbrella academy, stranger things, the batman, titains, heartstopper, young royals, criminal minds, fnaf, arcane, ghostbusters, barbie, oppenheimer, nimona, christopher robin

musicals ; les miserables, hamilton, waitress, the greatest showman, la la land, hairspray, dear even hansen, heathers, high school musical, lemonaid mouth, annie, descendants, beetlejuice, mama mia, tick tick boom, into the woods, mean girls, in the heights, little shop of horrors

youtubers ; pezzy, elasticdroid, puffer, grizzy, smii7y, gtlive, game theory, warn, frogger, aspen, beaplays, dawko, ethan nestor, blarg, thedooo, coleydoesthings, film cooper, dechart games, hthaze, james marriott

musicians ; james marriott, taylor swift, mcr, twenty one pilots, billie eilish, hozier, noah kahan, sleeping at last, the smiths, laufey, chappell roan, bruno major, paramore, novo amor, depeche mode, p!atd, daughter, djo, feels like july, florence the machine, frank sinatra, gerard way, ghost, lady gaga, lemon demon, lily allen, maya hawke, 1d, 5sos, mitski, micheal jackson, sleep token, taylor austen dye

misc ; books, dolls (monster high, lol, rh), pop figures, lego, posters, flowers, pin badges, jewellery, halloween, fall/autumn, deco pacis, colouring

DISCLAIMER ; I hold all of my faves accountable! I do not support jkr, noah schnapp ect!

My faves !

celebs/authors ; pedro pascal, hugh jackman, ryan reynolds, ali hazelwood, kit connor, oscar isaac, hayden christensen, ewan mcgregor, tom hiddleston, andrew garfield, tom holland, aiden gallagher, eddie redmane, aaron tveit, erik j brown, david tennant, josh hutcherson, david harbour, wynina ryder, natalia dyer, maya hawke, matthew gray gubler, thomas gibson, aj cook, barry sloane, neli ellice

characters ; John 'Soap' MacTavish, Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Captain John Price, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Robin Buckley, Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Penelope Garcia, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Loki, Logan Howlett, Scott Summers, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Leia Organa, Ben Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves, Newt Scamander, Din Djarin, Deadpool, Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Danny Zuko, Jean Valjean, Ben Florian, Flynn Rider, Aziraphale, Crowley, Nick Nelson, Charlie Spring, Diego Hargreeves

dividers and Lydia banner by @kodaswrld <3 bj banner

[lionhanie]

my writing! (masterlist) ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

written for gender-neutral reader unless specified otherwise!

ꕥ = personal favorite ;D

OT6 ♡

↳ ꕥ boynextdoor as old 5sos songs (oneshot series) IN PROGRESS!

↳ ꕥ boynextdoor playing minecraft (hcs)

park sungho ♡

↳ as your boyfriend

↳ beautiful stranger

lee riwoo ♡

↳ as your boyfriend

myung jaehyun ♡

↳ as your boyfriend

han taesan ♡

↳ as your boyfriend

↳ ꕥ back 2 u (series) IN PROGRESS!

kim leehan ♡

↳ as your boyfriend

↳ ꕥ moving to busan (surfer!leehan)

kim woonhak ♡

↳ coming soon!!!!!

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!