#maybe i can squeeze in an extra match or two before eep. maybe

[eudico-my-beloved]

middle of a match my pc started lagging like crazy and added with my shaking hand it made it really difficult to move because the mouse kept going to a different tab and it got to a point where this heavy asked me if i was a bot 🥲

[takecxver-blog]

They Don’t Know - Michael

So this is my first post on this new blog… eep. Hope you like it. I had that super old One Direction song in my head while writing this and I’m not even a that big fan of them but it fit so whatever… idk. Also lowkey inspired by Good Girls (that one line is cringy I know I couldn’t resist). Flashbacks in italics.

Everyone will say they know about your relationship. The ‘bad boy’ and the ‘nerd’. They just know what they’ve seen and heard. Michael driving you to school and walking you to class, you sometimes wearing his leather jacket, that one time you got detention for being late (“it’s that boy’s bad influence on her, she’s never been slightly late before” - your chem teacher while shaking his head), you failing a test and being grounded (again, his bad influence, according to your dad). In reality, they knew a fraction of what they thought they did. For example, how you met.

You sighed, looking around nervously before pulling a crumpled packet of marlboro reds from your backpack and pressing one in-between your lips. It was a habit you’d picked up from the stress of studying for finals, your dad’s pressure to get into Harvard and all nighters. Staying late in the library every night had been his idea, and you weren’t one to argue. Fumbling in the bottom of your bag for your lighter, you cursed when you realised exactly where it was: in the hoodie pocket you’d used when you had a cigarette outside yesterday before your dad got in from work.

“Need a light?” You jumped at the unfamiliar voice and looked up to see Michael Clifford offering a lighter matching the current bright red of his hair. The school had long given up telling him not to dye it anymore. You’d always thought he was pretty cool, if a little irresponsible.

“Sure.” You took the lighter and lit the cigarette, taking in a long drag and exhaling in relief. Handing him back the lighter, you offered a smile. “Thanks.”

“No worries, you looked like you needed it.”

“You can say that again.”

“You looked like you needed it.” He smirked. Rolling your eyes, you took another drag and watched as he pulled out his own packet and lit up.

“Are you always this annoying?”

“Are you always this annoying?”

“Seriously, what are you, five?”

“Seriously, what are you, five?” You shook your head, laughing.

“You’re something else, I swear.”

“Don’t swear, it’s offensive! I’ll tell on you!”

“Oh no, anything but that, please!” You pretended to fake cry.

“Can you keep it down, some people are trying to study. And put those death sticks out, or I will tell on you!” A girl called from inside the library, then slammed the window behind her. It rattled in it’s frame and Michael shushed it, making you laugh even more.

“So what are you doing out here behind a library, doesn’t seem like you?” You asked after a while.

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover, (Y/N), I could be here studying.” He retorted, making you snort. “Okay fine, I was dragged here by Mr Higgins for extra math tutoring. He thinks I’m in the toilet. What about you, miss goody two shoes, smoking, doesn’t seem like you?”

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover, Michael.” You repeated, grinning. “And anyway, good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.” Stubbing out your cigarette, you winked at him before disappearing back inside.

He’d appeared by your side as you left that evening, offering you a ride home. It beat taking the bus, so you agreed, chatting pleasantly the entire ride to your house. When he pulled up outside, he asked for your number, and you found it hard coming up with reasons to refuse. He began texting you memes within the hour and you knew you’d made the right decision.

One thing people did get right about your relationship, though, was how protective of you he was. Practically the whole school had witnessed it nearly eight months into your relationship.

You stood outside your school, waiting for Michael. He insisted on picking you up, since it was still winter, and so pitch black by the time you finished school at four o’clock. And hey, you weren’t going to complain about not having to wait for the bus in the dark and cold, plus getting to see your boyfriend was a bonus. He’d gotten suspended for refusing to take out his new eyebrow piercing, so you hadn’t seen much of him the past week except for five minutes when he drove you home. But tonight was your weekly date night. Your dad hadn’t been too happy when you’d told him you had a boyfriend, as it would ‘impact your studies negatively’, and he was even less thrilled when you introduced him to Michael, not liking his appearance or grades in the slightest. After a few ‘loud discussions’ though, he’d come to accept it. You had a strict curfew of six that he extended by an hour every Wednesday, and you’d never broken it (at least not that he knew of). You’d been texting Michael all day, and were honestly so excited for the new chocolate fudge sundae from the ice cream place in town. Skipping one or two study sessions wouldn’t hurt.

“I bet your boyfriend thinks he’s so badass, doesn’t he?” You raised an eyebrow as you turned to see one of the douchey guys from your english class, Josh. He was popular and pretty much a fuckboy. He was also butthurt because Michael had called him out in class last week for calling a girl a slut, and then given him a black eye when he confronted him when he came to pick you up yesterday.

“If you’re talking about him kicking your ass, you deserved it.” You said, turning back around, only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

“Ooh, kitty’s got claws.”

“Yeah, and I’m about to claw your eyes out if you don’t let go of me and fuck off.”

“Oh, come on sweetheart, I was just playing.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. You shot him a tight smile and spun around to see Michael, leaning against the hood of his car, smirking. He walked over and wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your cheek in greeting.

“Hey love, good day?”

“Not too bad, relieved that it’s over though.” You smiled.

“Ah cool, this asswipe’s not bothering you, is he?”

“She threatened me!” Josh exclaimed. “I was just asking her a question and the little sl-”

“If you’re looking for a black eye to match the first one, finish that sentence, I dare you.” Michael’s tone hardened as he glared at Josh.

“What? The little slut threatened me?” The asshole smirked, reaching over to brush your hair behind your ear. The next thing you knew he was being held against the wall by his collar.

“Don’t fucking touch her. I know you’re not exactly the smartest, but trying to get to me through her is probably the stupidest thing you’ve done yet.” Michael growled. By now a crowd had gathered around the three of you, attracting the attention of a couple of teachers.

“Mr Clifford! Let go of him this instant!”

“Mikey, c’mon, he’s not worth it.” You pleaded, not wanting him to get suspended for longer than he already was. Michael sighed and dropped Josh to the floor. He turned around and reached for your hand, only to freeze when he spoke again.

“Yeah, Mikey, your little slut needs attention.” Needless to say, Josh ended up with a second black eye and you spent the next two hours sitting outside the principal’s office. The ice cream place closed at five.

“I’m sorry, love. I know you wanted to go to that ice cream place tonight. We can go Saturday, I promise. Are you okay?” Michael said, squeezing your hand as you sat on the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

“I’m fine, just annoyed that I’m gonna have to wash my hair again, I only washed it this morning. Or maybe I should just bleach it like yours instead?” He was giggling until he was called into the office.

“I really am sorry.” Michael said as you walked out to his car at half six.

“Hey, it’s okay. That was so boring though, I need a cig. Plus, we still have time to make out in the backseat of your car.”

“Fuck, I love you.”

Badass. That was pretty much everyone’s view of Michael. They didn’t know how sweet he could be, or how much of a dork he was.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” Michael removed the beanie from over the top half of your face (you didn’t have the heart to tell him you could see through it the entire time). You were in his bedroom/basement, and you had to give him credit, it looked amazing. Fairy lights were strung all about the room, and there was a very inviting blanket fort in the middle of the room, over the small sofa, facing the TV. On further inspection, you saw pizza, a tub of your favourite ice cream, and a bunch of movies inside the fort. “Happy anniversary, love.”

“Mikey, this awesome!” You exclaimed, running to get comfortable.

“Really?” He asked, crawling in next to you. You knew he was slightly insecure that he couldn’t take you out to some fancy restaurant for your second anniversary, his job in this alternate coffee shop wasn’t the best pay. But you couldn’t care less, this was thoughtful and adorable and way more fun than sitting in some posh restaurant all night.

“Yes!” You giggled, proceeding to tell him all the reasons why this is the best kind of date. Plus, it was Saturday, so you had all day to yourselves. Most of that day may or may not have been spent feeding each other pizza and making out.

Deadpool had just finished, and you were having a hard time staying awake. It was half five, and you were just so warm and comfortable wrapped up in Michael’s arms as he played with your hair and dropped kisses onto your forehead. Surely you could nap for a little bit? Michael would wake you up when he had to drop you home.

Bad decision. You shot up at 6am and, after checking your phone, panicked. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Mikey, get up!” You shook your boyfriend. Normally, his adorable, sleepy face would melt you, but right now you were too panicked by the missed calls and texts waiting for you. “Michael!”

“W-What?” He yawned, sitting up. “What’s wrong, love?”

“What’s wrong is that we fell asleep and I was supposed to be home twelve hours ago!” He perked up, suddenly much more awake.

“Shit.”

“Shit is right. I’m gonna die. My dad’s gonna kill me. It was nice knowing you.”

“Hey, hey.” Michael wrapped his arms around you, seeing tears in your eyes. “This is the first time you’ve ever been late. Text him now and explain, I’ll drive you home and we can talk to him. It’s gonna be alright, I’m gonna be right there with you the whole time, love, I promise. C’mon, deep breaths.”

“Okay, yeah. He’ll understand, right?” You sighed, and Michael nodded, kissing you softly.

“Let’s go.”

Turns out you had nothing to worry about. Sure, your dad was initially angry, but after you explained (and nearly cried), he calmed down, and just told you not to let it happen again. Which is why you’re currently biting your lip, debating on whether to sneak out and see Michael on a school night when you’ve got an exam tomorrow. It’s not the first time you’ve done it, and you’ve never been caught, but this exam is a really big deal. Sure, your place at Harvard, still your dream school, is pretty much secured for September, but this is in the thing you’re going to be minoring in (your major is chemistry upon your dad’s request), your true passion, art. A text comes through, jolting you out of your reminiscing.

from: mikey ♥

I know you’ve got your art exam in the morning, but that stuff comes naturally to you. It’s why you should be majoring in it, love. You don’t need to study for something you’re already amazing at.

Fuck it, you think, grabbing a hoodie (Michael’s) and some sneakers. Even after two and a half years, you never were good at saying no to him. Climbing out of your window and down the conveniently placed tree, you jog over to Michael’s car and jump in.

“Hey, love.” He greets you with a kiss and you giggle.

“Just drive, Mikey.”