A couple of OC commissions from the utterly incredible @shanlightyear! These two are some of the protagonists from my novel, and she made them look AMAZING!!! I can’t even tell y’all how happy these make me!
S/o singing "Fortune's fool" by Hiatus & Shura to male overwatch characters of your choice
He’s struck by some emotion he can’t explain, you’re such a good singer and the emotion is clearly being painted with your voice. He wishes he could be stuck in this moment forever, listening to you sing.
He blinks away tears when you finish, pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring praises under his breath.
He’ll ask you to sing again, only if you’re comfortable.
You could be the worst singer ever and he would be completely enamoured with how you sound. He just loves every part of you and that includes your horrible voice.
He pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. The two of you just stand there, you rasping the last verse.
He asks you to sing at night when the day is wearing you down, knowing it’ll calm you down.
He joins in, his voice rasping from years of smoking, you sound so good in comparison. You don’t tell him, loving the passion on his face.
He pulls you close, the two of you beginning to sway with the music. His hand clasps into yours with another on your waist, his bearded chin on your shoulder.
If he’s ever down you can cheer him up like that, the two of you singing and dancing together.
This is the last installment in the neighbor!5sos series! Thanks everyone for reading! We hope you enjoyed the series and we hope you stay tuned for our next couple series as well! -Bronte
They were at it again. Yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs, seemingly unaware that their teenage daughter was just a couple doors down listening to everything they were saying. Their fights used to at least make a little bit of sense. Dad had come home too late or mom went out with her friends too much. But now, their arguments seemed to be about nothing at all. It was a wonder they weren’t separated yet. You kept waiting for one of them to sit you down and explain that you had to choose who to live with and all that jazz that came with a divorce. It had happened to most of your friends already, but neither of your parents ever spoke those words. You had two theories about it: either they didn’t have to guts to leave each other or they didn’t have the guts to have to tell you about it. Either way, you knew any love they had for each other had faded over the years So here you were, sitting in your room trying to block out their shrill voices you were sure the whole street could hear. You were trying not to cry. You had cried far too many time because of them and you desperately wished you could just stop feeling some type of way about it but you just couldn’t. At the end of the day you just cared too much about the whole thing. They were your parents! How could you not care?
Just as you let a single tear slip from your eye, you felt a small object hit you on the forehead. Blinking in surprise, you looked around for the source of the projectile when another one hit you. You looked down and saw a green guitar pick in your lap followed by a small “psst.” You looked in the direction of the noise and smiled. Outside your window and across the way was your next door neighbor Michael grinning at you. His house was squeezed next to yours in the suburban neighborhood you both lived in. He had moved in about five years ago and you had been friends ever since your mom forced you over there with a plate of fresh cookies for the new neighbors. Wiping the stray tear away before he could see, you hurried over to the window sill to talk to him.
“I ran out of pebbles so I had to throw guitar picks instead.” He chuckled.
“It’s intuitive, I’ll give you that. Plus, your accuracy was on point.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, his piercing catching the light of the street lamp and glinting at you.
“You should’ve seen your face! You didn’t even know what hit you!” He teased, making you smile a little bigger which was something you were only ever able to do with him these days. Seeing your smile, Michael was about to make another joke before he was abruptly cut off to the sound of your dad yelling at your mom.
“I pay most of the rent around here, I shouldn’t have to pick up every single dish I use!” He roared.
“Well it wouldn’t kill you to help me out every now and again! I do enough around here as it is without you causing more messes! Maybe I should just move out of here so I don’t have to look at you and your mess!” Your mom screamed back at him.
“Is that all I am anymore?!? A mess?”
“It’s sure as hell all you act like!”
Their voices became more faint and you could tell that they were moving the argument downstairs leaving you not only embarrassed, but once again fighting tears. Seeing your expression, Michael softened and looked at you with sad eyes.
“They’re at it again?” He whispered.
“Every night.” You couldn’t even look at him. Too ashamed to even be able to meet his eyes.
“You wanna come over? Mom made mac and cheese tonight and I know there’s extras.”
“Um, no it’s okay I wouldn’t wanna bother you.” You mumbled, honestly wanting nothing more than him right now.
“I think it’s funny that you think I don’t know when you’re lying Y/N. I’ll get the bridge, just stay there.” He said, disappearing into his room.
‘The Bridge’ was a piece of plywood that you and Michael used as a way to clammer back and forth between your houses when going through the front door was unacceptable. Michael usually kept it in his room meaning you often came home to find him chilling out in your room while you were away. Although, his habit of breaking and entering led to him walking in on you changing a few times, which of course he never complained about, but made you turn bright red and scrambling to cover yourself up while he laughed and mumbled “boobs.” Of course the little shit often left his blinds open and had a peculiar habit of walking around his room without any clothes on, meaning he wasn’t the only one who had seen the other stark naked.
Michael returned, heaving the bridge over the ledge and connecting it to your window. Standing up, you balanced yourself on the edge and shimmied across.
“I can’t believe one of us hasn’t died yet.” You grumbled. As if the universe took that as a challenge, suddenly the bridge began to crack. “Shit.” Without hesitation, you leaped the rest of the way across falling directly towards a wide eyed Michael. He tried to reach out and catch you, but the boy was not coordinated at all and so the two of you went tumbling down to the carpet, him underneath you, with a thud. Fortunately for you, he broke your fall and you were surprised you hadn’t just plummeted to your death.
“You jinxed it.” He pouted up at you. You took this time to realized how close you were to him. Michael’s arms had wrapped around your middle in hopes of catching you and you had fallen so that your nose was barely brushing his. His green eyes stared up at you as his pink lips turned upwards into a smile, his blue hair brushing his forehead.
His voice was low, “You know what we’re in the perfect position for?” Your cheeks turned hot as you realized what he could be suggesting. But like usual, Michael loved to keep you guessing.
“A TICKLE FIGHT!” He rolled over so that you were pinned underneath him and started pinching your sides and running his fingers up and down your body in the areas he knew you would react to.
“Michael!” You stuttered, barely able to breathe because you were laughing so hard. “Michael no!” But he kept going, under your arms, down your stomach, the outside of your thighs, he knew every single place that you were ticklish. He knew you better than anyone and the more he saw you laughing, the more he couldn’t help but smile and laugh as well. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to keep them open anymore when suddenly the tickling sensation stopped. You opened your eyes to find Michael gazing down at you, his arm locked next to your head as his other hand came up to brush the hair out of your eyes.
“I love to see you laugh.” He whispered. “I love it more than anything in the whole world.” Your lips parted and you let out a small gasp at his words. “I hate to see you so sad. I hate that they don’t care enough to shut the fuck up for a day and make sure you’re okay. I hate that you think no one cares about you when I care about you more than anything. I love to be the one to make you smile and laugh. I love watching you dance around in your room to Taylor Swift when you think I’m not home. You’re so amazing and I wish you knew that Y/N. And I’ll tell you every single day if I have to until you start to believe it.” He breathed. Awestruck, you stared up at him. You were at a loss for words, unable to even process what you were going to say before he continued. “Since the bridge broke I guess you’re staying here tonight. I’ll get you some clothes to wear.” He climbed off of you and stumbled over to his drawer to retrieve some extra clothes for you to sleep in. You got up as well, walking over to him, His back was turned, so you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his shoulder. You felt him tense up at your touch but you hugged him anyway. “Thank you Michael. Just for everything. For being here and staying with me and just for being you I guess.” You sighed.
“Well I live just next door, it’s not like I could ever get away from you, even if I tried.” He teased.
Turning around, he handed you an old Metallica t-shirt that he always wore.
“My favorite shirt for my favorite girl.” Blushing, you took it from him and went over to the corner of his room to change, but he was still looking at you.
“Mikey turn around!” You ordered.
“C’mon babe, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Okay fine, fine.” He covered his face with his hands as you began to undress. Naturally, being the little shit he is, he peered out through his fingers to try and get a glimpse of you. Your shirt was off, but you were turned towards the wall exposing your bare back to him. Oh the things he would do to you if you would only let him. He didn’t dare tell you how he felt. You had told him before that you didn’t want a relationship with anyone right now. Not with the state of your family and all the stress it caused you. You weren’t ready to devote yourself to someone yet. Little did he know though, that you would devote yourself to him if he asked. You would do anything for him. He may just be the boy next door, who threw guitar picks instead of pebbles at your window but that’s okay. Michael was anything but ordinary and that’s what you loved about him.
“I know you’re peeking Mikey.” He could practically hear your smirk, and he could’ve sworn he saw you swing your hips a little.
“Oh aren’t I a fortunate fool.” He chuckled under his breath. “And we are quite the pair Michael Clifford.” You winked at him, making his stomach churn in a way only it only did when he was with you.
“I’m going to sleep in my boxers.” He announced, hoping you would follow his lead. “You can take the left side of the bed.”
“Are you sure you want me in the bed with you?” You asked tentatively, looking shyly at him.
“Of course! I’m certainly not sleeping on the floor tonight and I’ll be damned if you think you are.” He climbed into bed and you got in next to him as he pulled the covers up over the two of you. You both lay in peaceful silence for awhile until you spoke quietly.
“Do you think it’ll ever get better than this Mike?” He knit his eyebrows together.
“What do you mean?
“I mean do you think that everything is going to work out for me? For us?
“Like will my parents ever stop fighting? Will your band become successful? Will I get into a good school? I just don’t know. It doesn’t feel like anything will ever be better than it is now you know?
“Oh.” Michael paused to think about what he was going to say next before explaining, “You know, I think it will. At least for you, I know I would do anything to make sure you were happy. But I think that the real question is, will it ever be as good as it is now? Because we will never be as young as we are now. One day we’ll fade away and the world will be grey. We have to seize the day and we can’t wait for tomorrow we have to live now. Do what we want to do while we’re young.”
You stopped and stared up at him, left practically speechless at his answer to your question. “That could be a song lyric, you know. It’s poetic, you should get on that because it could be a hit.” Michael let out a laugh. “I’ll run it by the guys and see how it goes over. You know they only like stuff that sounds punk though, so none of that sappy shit.”
You laughed at him before teasing, “I’m sure you guys could make anything sound punk rock.”
“Well we do have a song called Pizza, and it’s pretty hardcore.” He chuckled.
“Haha, sure it is Mikey. He stuck his tongue out at you, making you grin mischievously before you began to squirm around in the bed, trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. Just as you were about to give up, he wrapped his arm around your stomach and pulled you into his chest.
“Is that better?” He cooed into your neck.
“Mmhhmm.” You mumbled, already slipping into a peaceful slumber now that you were close to Michael.
“Good.” He whispered, taking in the scent of your hair and memorizing the feeling of your body next to his. Your breathing slowed and his did as well, matching your delicate rhythm.
The two of you laid in silence for awhile, the luminescence of the moon shining through his open window and lighting up your still form. Michael stayed awake, his thoughts swimming, unable to focus on anything but you lying next to him, when finally he softly spoke words that he never before had had courage to say aloud. “I love you.” He whispered. But his words went unheard by you, as you dreamed of the boy with the colored hair.
Wheel of Fortune - attributed to Albrecht Dürer
It is an illustration from the book “Stultifera navis” (Ship of fools) by Sebastian Brant, published by Johann Bergmann von Olpe in Basel in 1494.