The current BROTP of EastDorm, consisting of AdamDunlap and MichaelSheely. Has a devoted following of fans who create fanart, fanfiction, cosplay, and customized m&ms.

This ship ships itself.

Engages in such activities as: Sharing waffles, dressing as conjoined twins for Halloween, longboarding on the same longboard, giving each other piggy back rides, running together, forgetting they don't live together, actually living together, emailing you when you are ACROSS THE OCEAN to tell you their fanart on funwiki isn't displaying properly (<3), etc.

"Has Adam responded yet?" - Michael
"I'll go if Adam goes." - Michael



(It should be noted that KiraWyld denies all association with this)

The TacoFic


“I’ll go if Adam goes,” the brunette boy stared obstinately at the girl who offered him a chance at life.

“We don’t have time for your little games. This is the zombie apocalypse.”

“It’s not a game. I can’t run without Adam.”

“Squeeee!” went Max and Kira in the background, stopping from their slaughter of zombies to fangirl over their favorite OTP.

“Michael, the zombies are here. The rest of east can only hold them off for so long, and we need to get you away from here. Your hair holds the secrets to everyone’s survival, after all.”

“Someone should text Adam to see where he is,” was Michael’s only reply.

It had been a little over a week since the zombie apocalypse had begun, and those of the East had eventually figured out that Michael’s hair- besides just defying gravity- also contained the secrets to the cure. Now, lives had been given and battles fought in an attempt to get Michael to the chem lab for testing on how to mass produce the cure. Only one obstacle remained.

“Has Adam responded yet?”

“Not yet,” the entire camp sighed, and realized it was going to be a long day.


A fiery haired little boy stood in line, nervous for the judgement soon to come.

“Do you know what house you’re gonna be in?” the tiny brunette next to him whispered.

Adam looked over at where his cousins, the Weasleys, sat at the Gryffindor table, “No idea, you?”

“I’m hoping Hufflepuff!” with excitement in his hazel eyes, Michael grinned at his new friend.

“No one hopes for Hufflepuff,” the redhead, Adam, snorted. But not a bad snort. A snort of amusement at the antics of someone he could already tell he’d be good friends with.

“Oh my goodness, Arithmancy is the best class ever!” exclaimed the now rakish dark-haired third year, swigging from his bottle of butterbeer on their first Hogsmeade weekend.

“Tell me about it!” replied Adam, his Slytherin scarf bringing out the green in his ordinarily grey eyes, the silver in it accenting the shine in the rims of his glasses.

“Wow, what are you doing hanging out with the Hufflepuff?” smirked an older Slytherin as he walked by, his tie matching terribly with his shirt.

Adam is torn- he looks up to Squiggles, so much, but Michael is his friend! “Mmmm,” is the only reply he can muster, before staring down at the pretzel Michael had bought for them to share.

Prefect Squiggles just rolled his eyes, tired of having this argument with the younger Slytherin. If Adam had decided to imprint on the Hufflepuff, he guessed there was no hope.

Two boys sat on top of the Astronomy Tower, furiously scribbling at their homework. The O.W.L. was merely a week away, and due to a kerfuffle over Quidditch, they were behind on studying.

“Wait, so adding an infusion of Wormwood to to the powdered root of asphodel makes the Draught of Living Death, right?”

“Yup!” Adam grins back at the brunette, and tries not to think of when Michael had been lying on the quidditch pitch, like death himself. Madame Pomfrey had said it was just a skull fracture, but…

“You’re thinking of when I bumped my head again aren’t you?”

“Hand hug!” the redhead quickly tries to distract his friend, but then Michael just tackle hugs him instead, and everything is alright in the world again anyway.

It’s spring at Hogwarts, as two boys run through the dewy grass. Michael looks over at his fiery haired friend, and smiles with joy at the sight of his red hair contrasted with the fresh green grass. It’s like Christmas, only better, because Adam had gone away for Christmas.

“What are you going to do next year?” he ventures to ask the first friend he’d made at Hogwarts. With graduation only a couple weeks away, it’s been everyone’s most frequently asked question, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask Adam until now.

"I was thinking I would go work in the robotic section of the Mudd Research of Magic facility. But I'm not entirely sure,” said Adam, in a tentative tone, hoping that his plans would not offend his… friend.

“...They have an Arithmancy section, don’t they?” asked Michael, eyes glimmering with hope, elated that maybe his dreams were aligning like the stars in Adam’s eyes.

“Didn’t you apply to work there last month?”

“Oh yeah!” Michael grinned. He totally had.

“That’s…” Adam blushed, “Kind of why I applied too.”

Michael hadn’t thought it was possible, but he smiled even more, “Really?”

Adam turned as red as his hair, “Mmm.”

The two embraced.


(Or is it?)



Created by MaxHlavacek.

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Last edited November 10, 2015 16:17 (diff)