i want an australian for breakfast

Something I think we all need: El using her powers and just being a kid. Making the bell ring at school and adjusting the hands on the clock to make Mr. Clarke think class is over early. Sneaking the cookie jar off the top shelf and into her hands because Holly wants a cookie before dinner. Messing with the radio’s frequencies so they can ask Australians if they eat kangaroos for breakfast. Making Mike physically unable to get up off the couch when she still wants to cuddle. Moving the TV remote progressively farther away from Hopper when he reaches out to change the channel. Focusing her energy on making her darn Eggos toast faster and nearly burning down the house in the process. Levitating herself (and Mike) up to a high branch in a tree so she can get a better look at the stars

Smashed Avo on Toast, with eggs. (Tronnor fic)

The first time he tweeted it, they’d been apart for less than a few days. Troye woke up jetlagged, still on Cali time, and felt a pang in his heart, followed quickly by one in his stomach. He frowned, upset with his body for making him both lonely and hungry when he couldn’t do anything to fix either at this time of morning. He pulled up his laptop and cuddled into the covers, hopelessly reaching for something to curl up next to. Opening the lid, the screen shone bright with a picture for their eyes only; him and Connor on Bondi just moments after the best breakfast they had ever had. Troye shut his eyes tight, bringing that moment into his memory clear as day.

It wasn’t just the food that made it good; the two boys were more interested in each other than the poached eggs with avocado on toast that they’d both ordered. Connor had finished his food quickly, and was watching Troye savour every bite. The younger boy was struggling a bit eating with only one hand, but he didn’t dare mention it, less Connor release his fingers from his warm familiar grip. Troye was really into the meal, and didn’t catch the way Connor was looking at him like a priceless work of art, like something he could stare at forever and never quite comprehend. Connor was mesmerized by the boy, totally entranced with his every moment, still not quite sure how he managed to get here, holding hand with someone so perfect. As Troye swallowed his last bite, he began to speak, just as Connor ducked his head to whisper out the words he’d been bursting to say since he arrived in Sydney. “Avocado is definitely my favourite - Tro, I love you - …fruit.” The words smashed together and both boys looked up startled, eyes wide and cheeks bright.

“Somebody wake up and get breakfast with me.” Troye sent the tweet, the indirect message to Connor, saying he missed him without using the words that made the cracks in his heart split open. He sighed, frustrated, and threw himself back into the covers. He loved Australia, but if Perth could be just a little closer to Los Angeles, he knew two young men who certainly wouldn’t mind. Thinking back on the breakfast two short months ago, he made one more tweet before rolling over to go back to sleep. “Smashed avo with feta and a poached egg on toast and coffee cmon” - the tweet was meant for only one.

Troye nearly choked despite having nothing in his mouth. “I love you”?? Was that really what Connor just said? How? How could this perfect man who lived so far away and yet gave up his time to come to Sy- oh. Troye suddenly realized how blind he’d been. Sure, him and Connor were together, and it was something, and Troye had been in love with him for ages, but it wasn’t until right there, with an empty plate of eggs, that he realized Connor loved him too. And shit - he should probably say it back. Of course he would; Troye was hopelessly in love. But for some reason, his tongue seemed to be stuck. It was Connor who broke the silence. “Troye, I’m sorry. It’s too soon, isn’t it? I mean we aren’t even dating. Are we dating? Don’t answer that. Too much, Con, you idiot. Shit. I’m sorry Troye.” Connor stopped speaking when Troye squeezed his hand almost painfully; getting him to lift his eyes from the table edge he’d been studying. “Connor, look at me. LOOK. Good. I love you too. I love you babe. I just… I didn’t know you loved me.” The older boy looked him in the eye and spoke, his voice coming out scolding and strong. “I love you Troye, and I always will. Ok? I. Love. You.”

On the other side of the world, Connor was staying up far too late, hoping to catch a certain boy when he woke up so they could Skype. He glanced at his phone to see two notifications from twitter. Opening the app, he smiled, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Somebody missed him. Somehow, smashed avo with toast had become their secret way of saying hello to each other, and more than that, saying “I love you” without the whole online world knowing. Even privately, Troye would text him about his breakfast, and Connor would reply with “I love you too T”. It was their thing, their secret, the only way they could be honest on their social media right now. Connor tweeted back to Troye, and laughed as the small band of Tronnor shippers he tracked started responding to the interaction. Those poor dears were grasping at straws sometimes, but had no idea how close they were to the truth.

Less than a week later, it was Christmas Eve. Connor was with his family, and Troye was in Australia. They were happy, together with the people they loved for their respective holidays, but as always when they were apart, a small piece of them was missing. Troye decided to make some breakfast, laughing when he realized Mum had bought everything he needed to make his and Connor’s meal. Tweeting about the meal, he pulled up his direct messages to talk to the dear boy he wanted to be with most.

When Connor woke up in Minnesota, he was shivering. It was cold here, away from warmth of LA and somehow even further away from a certain Australian.  Speaking of… Connor opened twitter and laughed. He opened their recent convo and recorded a quick voice message. “I love you T. Making breakfast now.”

Troye had a notification from Connor. A tweet about breakfast, again? He smiled, and rang the boy in Minnesota. Voicemail. “Hey Concon. We might have to stop with the breakfast tweets love.  I don’t know how many different ways we can talk about avocado and eggs before our cuties figure it out. And, Connie? I love you too.”

Stranger - Calum Hood [smut]

Requested - yes

Anonymous - “hey so you are such an amazing writer and I think you could make this idea I have perfect so : you are at a party and are pretty drunk and you start talking to calum not putting the pieces together that it’s him and then you get it on and then you wake up and realize it’s him and when you are getting ready to leave he asks you to go out him because he likes and then yeah :) it would mean a lot if you did this!”

A/N: I’ve been excited to write this ever since I got it

Word Count - 1089

Parties are never rare where you live so you never have an empty weekend. Often you don’t even know who’s party you’re at since there’s a multitude of celebrities, internet stars and general party animals in the are and it’s not like they’re invitation only.

This weekend is different though, usually your friends go with you but this Saturday they don’t. Some are off out of town and the others are thrown off because the party you plan on going to is in the fancy ass expensive part of town but none the less you go. You dress in some of your nicest party clothes, expecting every other girl to be doing the same but you soon discover than you could have been wearing a plastic bag and you’d be wearing better clothes than some of the trashy girls there. You’ve never had trouble acting confident, even when you don’t particularly feel it, so you blend in quite well when you go and get yourself a drink. Without a second thought you are handed a re solo up of beer and you start up conversations with anyone who happens to be around you.

Being fairly drunk, you decide to dance, something you only do when you’re drunk, and within a matter of minutes you’re center stage of the dance floor. Your moves are sloppy and frankly idiotic but the fact that you don’t give a shit coupled with the fact that you don’t know anyone at this party means you can dance all your cares away. The only thing that throws you off is when you feel a pair of hands at your waist and someone pressing themselves up against you from behind, but you ease into it finding no problem with casual grinding on a Saturday night. You decide you need to see the face of this stranger but in your drunk state it wouldn’t have mattered if he was wearing a paper bag over his head. You let you arms hand around his neck as your body move in time and you feel his plump lips nipping the skin just below your ear.

Alcohol begins to take affect as you have no recollection of the steps that took place to get the two of you from the party to, what you assume is, his place, none the less you stumble through the front door of the apartment, your lips not moving apart for more than a second. He tugs at the hem of your dress pulling his body away for a moment to shimmy it up your body while he kicks off his jeans. In another instant you’re both in just your underwear as he walks you backwards into his bedroom. You fall backwards onto the bed with a hiccuping giggle as he attacks your neck with hickeys, peppering a trail down the valley of your breasts.

If you were sober there would be many things you’d question about this situation, you met this boy less than an hour ago and you don’t even know his name, in face you can’t even remember his face for longer than a second. What is annoying you however is that you’ve not yet spoken to each other.

You go to speak but his hand slides beneath the waistband of your panties causing you to moan to which he responds, “Fuck you’re hot”

You notice an accent but are unable to place it due to the fact that he has got you like putty in his hands. He grips your waist tossing you further up the bed, pulling down your panties when he retracts his hands. He lets his hands flow across your back to unclasp your bra letting it fall from your body as he marvels at your chest. He kneads your breasts as he leaves a strong kiss on your lips as you hook your fingers around his boxers and pull them down his legs.

“Honey, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to struggle with walking tomorrow,” he smirks kissing down your jaw line.

Without warning he thrusts into you with a throaty moan that mixes with your high pitched whine. His breathing becomes heavy and almost grunt like as you arch your back and press your chest to his. Each movement of his seems sloppy no matter how much he may be trying which confirms he’s equally as drunk as you. You don’t know how much you’re going to be able to withstand at this rate but his thrusts begin to slow down getting deeper as he does which suggests he’s close too so you take the opportunity to clench around him. He gives one last groan, as do you before the two of you flop down into a mess of tangled up limbs.

The next morning you have no idea what happened and it confuses you to wake up in a stranger’s bed with no recollection of the night before.You rub your eyes and squint at the light coming in through the window, trying to get rid of the already prominent headache. You turn over trying not to wake the guy asleep next to you, just to get a look at his face, even if you didn’t get a name. But as soon as you glance at him you know exactly who it is, you just got fucked by Calum Hood.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself.

He’s not going to want to talk to you this morning, you think to yourself, you may as well get out before he even sees you.

With that thought you get up, trying your best to dress quietly before gathering your shoes.

Just as your about to reach the door you hear a croaky Australian accent say, “Hey, where you going?”

You sigh and turn around, “Thought I’d leave in true groupie style”

“Groupie? Who said anything about a groupie?” he chuckles.

“Come on, you’re world famous, I’m not expecting a five star meal,” you say.

“Well you should be, maybe we could go and get breakfast?” he suggests. You shrug, “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t know who you were until this morning,” you tell him.

He smiles, “Good, then you didn’t sleep with me for the wrong reasons. Now would you come lie back down, [Y/N]? I want to cuddle before we go anywhere”

“You remembered my name?” you sit down next to him.

“I don’t think I was quite as drunk as you,” he laughs.

He wraps an arm around you and hugs you close.

—————————

Masterlist // Request

How You Get The Girl

(A/N: This is my first ever posted fan fiction of JaDine. I’ve been wanting to share my thoughts about them and here I am. Give it a shot and tell me your thoughts, maybe? xC)

It’s almost 2 in the morning here in Australia and I can’t sleep. I’m here but my mind is somewhere else. I don’t understand myself why do I keep on thinking about her. This feeling has been creeping up on me for almost two months now and I don’t know why.

I can still remember the agony that I felt that one time we fought. She did not talk to me for four days. Those four days were like fucking hell to me because maybe; just maybe, my day isn’t the same without hearing her bubbly voice and seeing her bright smile. And maybe, I’ve been attached to her not knowing I’m falling for her already.

Wait…. What?                                      

Did I just say that I’m falling in love to her?

I closed my eyes and I can hear my heart beating so fast that I think it’s not normal.

Fuck. I’m falling in love with Naddie.

*

“Son, you’ve been staring at your phone for full ten minutes now. What has gotten into you?”

I snapped out because I just heard my Dad talking to me. And yes, I’ve been looking at my phone because I’m waiting for her reply to my message that has been sent to her an hour ago.

What’s taking her so long to reply?

“James, is there something bothering you?”

I looked to my Dad who’s enjoying his Australian breakfast before speaking up saying, “Nothing, Dad. I’m fine.”

“But you’ve been checking your phone nonstop and you haven’t touched your food. Tell me what’s up.”

“Dad… Really. There’s nothing for you to worry. I’m fine.”

“You know, son,” he says before drinking from his cup of coffee before continuing. “Something’s different about you.”

Dad looks at me directly in the eyes and I know that he’s about to say something real because he’s like this when he wants to do some serious talking.

“Uhm, what kind of different? A good or a bad one?” I answered him.

“Even better than the word good, son. It’s a great different,” He answers my question. “Do you still remember the message I sent you when you came home from taping? Son, you were smiling like you got in to the Harry Potter cast and I’ve never seen you smile like that before. A smile that speaks for pure and true happiness.”

Okay… A serious talk is about to happen.

“I know you’re feeling your leading lady. Am I right?” He asks and being shocked is an understatement towards what I feel with what he just said.

“Wait, what?”

“James, don’t ‘wait, what’ me. I’m your Father and I notice every little thing about you,” he looks at me sharply in the eyes and I got a bit afraid. Afraid that he might slap me with the truth. “That time you told me that you and Nadine fought and you don’t know what to do to make it up to her, I saw how sad you are. Your eyes speaks that you’re heartbroken with it and I knew, I knew that very moment that you’re feeling something for her. And here you are, waiting for her reply to your message. Now, tell me honestly that you’re not into her…”

I sighed heavily with what with my Dad just said because I know deep in my heart, it’s the truth. He wouldn’t say something if he’s unsure about it.

I looked straight into his eyes before saying, “But, Dad… Nadine is different. I don’t think… I don’t think I’m the one she wants. I’m too dysfunctional.”

“Can you hear yourself, James? If she doesn’t want you in her life, why does she come around every time you screw up? She never judged you despite all the screw up you’ve made and she just tells you that she got your back. She was with you all the time, son. You are not dysfunctional. There are just things that are way out of our league and things just happen. Nadine even tells me that you are a great guy…”

A smile showed up on my face upon hearing the last line that my Dad just said.

“Wait… She really said that?”

“Why would I lie to you? But for your assurance, yes, she did. So you better get her before it’s too late, James. I know Nadine makes you so happy so why stop yourself from being happy?”

I was about open up my mouth when my phone lightens up telling me that I have a notification and it was her. Naddie.

Good morning to you, Hayme! Happy almost new year! I hope you’re having a great time over there while I’m missing you over here… :( HAHAHA!

And fuck, beaming like I just got my first robot toy is nothing to what I really look now. I look ridiculous smiling from ear to ear but who cares?

“Uhm… I just have to reply on this, Dad. Wait…”

“Go ahead to your room son because I can feel that you want to FaceTime her at this very moment.” Dad says and he even wiggled his eyebrows that made him look weird.

“Are you sure?”

“Go make yourself happy, James. I’d like to see you happy.”

This is why I love my Dad. He wants nothing but us to be happy. He makes me realize things that I’m dodging to realize any sooner.

“Thanks, Dad… You just know what to say and I’m very thankful for you,” I stand up from the chair that I’ve been sitting and kissed his head. “Thank you.”

He pats my hand and tells me, “Go get your girl.”

Yep. I’m definitely getting the girl whose name is Nadine.