#and alex loves danny

[jam3sacaster]

“Don’t waste your time with him.” PT 1.

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by my sweet heart anon 🫶🏽 / Your uncle, Freddie Jones, introduces you to his new business partners, and you end up wishing he didn’t…

18+ FANFIC / SMUTTY, angsty, hot, in love. Longer than usual so I apologise and hope you don’t take a nap halfway through. Reader character aged 21. As always, request what you wanna see in my asks 💋

Desperate to escape the exhausting bustle of London, it had been agreed some weeks ago that you were to stay at your uncle, Freddie Jones’, Manor House in Rutshire. He had mentioned, vaguely, over the phone about his new business idea and that your expertise in marketing would provide a real asset. Pulling into the extravagant driveway at 8am sharp, you slam your car door shut and pull three substantial cases from the boot. “Darlin!” The familiar accent chimed as your moustached uncle threw open his front door, walking towards you with outstretched arms. Dropping your cases to the floor, you ran to meet him, embracing in a tight, meaningful hug. “I’m so glad you see you.” You exhaled, already feeling the stresses of London melting away. You had always been incredibly close to your uncle, but his newfound wealth and social status and upheaved him from his family and everyday life and plunged him into Rutshire. “Leave the cases. Someone will bring them up for you.” He nodded, taking your hand and leading you into his remarkable home.

“Hello, darlin!” Your auntie Valerie peeped from the doorway, momentarily giving you an uncomfortable, cramped hug. “You’ll have to excuse Fred Fred for an hour, he’s having a business meeting.” She rolled her eyes as she spoke. Embarrassed, Freddie looked down at his feet, but still mustered a smile for you. “Don’t worry about that, come in and meet them. I can tell you all about our new business plan, it’s fuckin’ incredible.” He spoke, beaming to himself now as Val pottered her way outside into her lavish garden. Opening the door to his office, Freddie ushered you in and boomed to the two men standing inside. “Gents, this is my beautiful niece, she’s staying with me for a while and she was an absolute marketing genius down in London. Darlin, this is Rupert-Campbell Black, Minister for Sport, and Declan O’Hara, former star of Declan on Corinium.” He introduced you. Declan tutted at the very mention of the C-word.

“Hello.” You spoke gently, awkwardly glancing between the two men. They quickly exchanged the necessary response to you, and gathered Freddie round the table, mumbling statistics that were far beyond understanding. “Sit, sit.” Freddie tapped the seat beside you, and you hesitantly obliged. Scanning your eyes over their scrawled out business plans, Rupert took the seat beside you, leaning over you slightly to point at some arbitrary on the paper. The potent, saccharine aroma of his aftershave wafting into your nostrils. As he retreated his hand, it brushed across yours softly, making your jump gently in shock. “Sorry.” He muttered, looking up at you and presenting you with a faint smile. Time stood still for a moment as your eyes interlocked contact — Rupert’s eyes softening in lust, yours in affection. “So,” Freddie’s hands slapped against the wooden desk, “We’ll have lunch, a couple of drinks and then get back to it.” He rubbed your shoulder and grinned at you, mouthing shortly after ‘You okay?’, to which you nodded.

Standing up from your chair and making your way into the garden, you breathed in the soft fragrance from the luxurious assemblage of flowers — Soft, pastelled hydrangeas, electric primroses, and properly preened roses of scarlet red and crisp white. You wrapped your soft, knitted lavender cardigan around your torso and squinted slightly under the subtle early morning sun. “London then, eh? Whereabouts?” An aristocratic voice sounded from behind you, cigarette smoke clouding the aroma from the flowers. “Kensington. I worked for a marketing agency, but they ended up thinking I was some kind of businesswoman so I ended up marketing a few television shows.” You reply, turning around slightly to see Rupert Campbell-Black stood, top button of his pastel blue shirt undone.

“Hmm. You’ll be a great asset to the team then. We could use your expertise.” He internally rolled his eyes as he spoke. There was nothing more dull and droning than boring a beautiful young lady with business. “Declan seems nice.” You reply, cheeks delicately glowing a rosy hue. To this, Rupert raised an arched eyebrow — appearing confused but a painful tinge of jealousy coursing through his veins. “Don’t waste your time with him. He’s… emotionally unavailable. His wife just fucked off back to London.” He chuckles abruptly, taking a long puff of his cigarette. Your supple lips pouted, feeling a rather strong wave of sympathy for Declan — partly for his wife leaving, partly for Rupert divulging such personal information to you. “I’m up at Penscombe Court, should you ever need to visit. To talk business and such. Or maybe more.” He winked, and you snickered, shaking your head softly. “Thank you. I’ll-umm… remember that.” You respond, making your way back inside.

Back in the office, Freddie was pacing up and down on his mobile, hand struggling to clasp around the thickened brick of a phone, and the antenna wafting around after him. Declan, muttering to himself under his breath, was sat at the desk, scribbling on an a5 piece of paper. “Drink?” You ask him, and he takes a moment to respond. “Sorry, love. Umm… yes, please. Just a soft one.” He replies, curling his bottom lip into an awkward smile. Temporarily migrating to the kitchen and walking back with a teeming jug of lemonade, laden with ice cubes and slices of fresh lemon, alongside four glasses. Pouring one out for everyone, Declan thanked you as you sat bedside him. “Sooo… what are you working on?” You ask, leaning into him to look over his shoulder. “Just a few pitch docs, jus’ throwin’ some ideas around.” Declan replied, but placed his pen back onto the table and sat back in his chair. “How old are ya?”

“21.” You meekly squeak, his presence intimidating. “And you’re already a marketin’ expert? Ya’ must be really good.” A reassuring smile plastered across his face as he spoke, and took a quick swig of his lemonade. “Well, I don’t know about that. I think Uncle Fred has made me seem a lot better than I actually am.” Freddie looks as you as you speak, smiling through his tedious phone conversation. “I’ve been propositioned already by Mr Campbell-Black.” You sigh, to which Declan shakes his head in disbelief. “Honestly, that man. There’s not a woman on the planet that he wouldn’t ride. Don’t waste your time with him.”

As the evening grew piercingly cold, the budding Venturer team roamed to the living room — television on, fire crackling and tumblers of amber whiskey flowing. You felt small amongst the room of men, talking too loudly and laughing too obnoxiously. Freddie was talking Rupert’s ear off, and that now familiar look of disinterest on Rupert’s face gave it all away. You grinned at him with twinkling eyes as he screwed his face up jokingly towards you at your uncle’s surely riveting conversation. “Whenever ya’ free, and ya’ wanna talk strategies, let me know and we can call a meeting.” Declan spoke, now drunk and stumbling over his words. “This isn’t your way of trying to flirt is it?” You ask, rolling your eyes and pouring yourself an offensively large glass of Sauvignon Blanc. “Trust me, darlin’, you’d know if I was trying to flirt.” All of a sudden, it wasn’t a joke anymore. His tone was low and gruff, and his eyes sharpened. “Maybe we should talk business now?” You suggest, inching your voice towards his. Without responding, Declan rose from the sofa and entered the office. To avoid arising suspicion, you get up a few moments later, with a half-arsed excuse about needing to use the bathroom. Barely waiting for you to close the office door behind you, Declan crashed his lips into yours, pinning you to the wall as the sounds of your colliding lips fought for dominance over your passionate groans.

•

Sliding his hand under your blue floral frock, Declan rubbed his thumb over your slit, the friction of your pants sending a jolt through your body. “Wet for me already?” He asked into your ear, before pulling your pants to the side and gliding two fingers inside you. You yelped in pleasure as his fingers immediately curled towards your g-spot. The frantic passion of the seductive man increased your groans, as you brought your hand down to rub his growing cock over his jeans. “Do you want me on my knees?” You asked with a smirk. Declan opened his mouth to speak, but —

The doorknob turned, and you both desperately panicked to straighten yourselves out. Smoothing down your dress as Declan turned around, in attempt to hide his hard-on from whoever was to enter the room. “Darlin?” Your uncle asked, and you perked your head up innocently. “You okay?”

“Yes, Uncle Freddie. Declan was just… picking my brains.” You chime, turning around slightly to check for his reaction. He suppressed a smirk, and nodded in agreement towards Freddie. Unsuspecting as always, Freddie smiled in contentment and closed the door behind him. “Fuck, that was close. Jesus feckin’ Christ, you turned me into an animal.” Declan wheezed into laughter. You stepped towards him and lifted his hand, sucking his brutish fingers that were, moments ago, inside of you. “Fuck.” He growled in response, running a course hand over his hair. You opened the office door and stepped out, Declan following close behind and giving you a playful snack on your behind that made you yelp. Freddie stood by the door, phone to his ear and speaking nonsense to a pretend caller. He was watching, and keeping a close eye.

•

“Cigarette?” Rupert’s voice spoke from the kitchen towards Declan. You hear Declan decline, and make your way into the kitchen to refill your drink. “You?” He asks, and you nod your head in response as you take a few, very-needed sips of wine. Pulling your uncle Freddie’s lighter from the countertop, you follow the suited man into the garden, taking a quick seat on the frosted wooden bench as Rupert stood above you. He lit his cigarette, and leant down to your level, lighting yours with the blaze within his.

“Finding us insufferable already?” He teased, taking a step back. Shaking your head and puffing your cigarette, your mind could barely muster a response as you envisioned the sound of Declan’s groans and the way his fingers hooked inside of you. “Umm… no. You’re both very nice, actually.”

“Hmm. Declan’s a bit of a cunt but we fair well for ourselves. Think any more about my offer?” He asks, sitting beside you now. “Not yet. How do I know you’re not some chauvinistic Casanova that wants to add me to your long list of conquests?” Raising an arched eyebrow as you speak. Rupert raises his hands in defeat, chuckling to himself that he’d been completely rumbled. You chuckle half-heartedly, semi-believing your own joke. “Well, let’s forget business. I don’t believe in waiting for something you desire. You’re a beautiful girl, and I’d like to take you to dinner.” He declared, taking a long drag of his cigarette and rubbing his thumb over your silky cheek. Taken aback by his rather attractive forwardness and gently biting your lip, you tilt your head upwards at the gentleness of his touch. The bitter evening silence in the garden was comforting — solemnly tranquil, interrupted only by autumn leaves tumbling in the wind and the occasional croaking of a frog in the grass. Even more beautiful still, the heavens opened up to unleash a downpour of of rain. Luckily, the bench was tucked under the porch, but one could still admire the serene display of nature.

Keeping your head tilted towards him, he ran his thumb from your cheek to your lips, lining the top lip, and then the bottom. So enamoured with desire, you could barely breath. He gently pushed his thumb into your mouth, making contact with your tongue. Keeping it there for a moment, he paused and spoke .. “You are magnificent.”

“Darlin’? Are you comin’ in? It’s rainin’ cats and dogs out there.” Freddie’s voice beckoned you from the kitchen window, catching a slight glimpse of the scene unfolding on his garden porch. Taking his time, Rupert removed his thumb from your mouth and stubbed out his cigarette against the brick wall. “You know where I am, angel. Don’t hesitate.” He expressed solemnly, as you collected yourself and went to join your uncle.

“Be careful, darlin’. You’re playing with fire.” Your uncle Freddie warned.

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

The Librarians S02E03/Almost Paradise S01E07/Leverage Redemption S02E06.

[ellelans]

I apologize for all the secrecy,chaps.But this an unsanctioned,unofficial and unauthorized mission.If we're picked by the Brits,we will all go to jail.If we are picked up by Germans,torture and death.

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (2024)

[sun-ni-day]

Parallels: Hawaii Five-0 1x20 Shore NCIS: Origins 1x03 Bend, Don't Break

[abrielarnold]

help. (danny's eyebags have eyebags. ie, my prediction for chap 10)

Things That Bleed by @artistfingers @kkachis and @ghostly-cabbage

[fizzytoo]

janine answered the ad for their spare room. welcome, janine!

the siblings got to know their new roommate through cards and board games. then, dalila stopped by for a while and solidified her friendship with amaya (while ama secretly hoped for something more...?)

dali by @beebeesiims

[jake-is-screaming-in-tune]

[petit-papillion]

Winter Break 2023-2024

Source: F1

I only see 2 drivers driving (boats, but we'll take it).

[conanssummerchild]

JAKE PERALTA WATCHES DUCKTALES??????

[ghostly-penumbra]

Me, with the "dannypocalypse" tag blocked, seeing post after filtered post from my phandom: They're having fun :)

[thingsthatbleedfic]

how much of alex rider would you recommend someone read/watch to get the full experience of the fic? i know you've said you're making it understandable to people who haven't read/watched it, but i personally like knowing some backstory before reading fanfics! (apologies if this has been asked before!)

Hi! Thanks so much for this ask and sorry for the delay in answering! We are using a blended canon of the books and show (mostly bc the show is only in its second season so far) But we're also playing just as fast and loose with AR canon as we are the DP canon. That being said, our recommendation is to watch the AR show! (It's free to watch with ads). Even if you only watch a few episodes, it's really great to establish the tone that this fic is set in. (I would personally encourage you watch the entirety of the show becuase it's really just so well done and the three of us agree that it's... honestly better than the books. merely because of its more serious and darker tone. The books were written in the 00s-10s for kids and the show is adapting it in a way that reflects that they understand that their audience are all adults now.) Books wise, if you want to know more about Yassen, (one of the main characters of the fic) we ARE keeping Yassen's canon backstory; Russian Roulette, the Yassen origin solo novel, is a really great read and will give you TONS of context. Yassen is unfortunatly not a HUGE part of the AR book canon. He only shows up like 3-4 times in two of the books and then haunts the narrative for the remianing majority.

[eggyolkguzzler]

mod do u have a voice claim for alex

Walk with me for a moment.

[a-chris-lloyd-big-fan]

Taxi behind the scenes

[jake-is-screaming-in-tune]

[oliverreedmasterass]

Greta Van Fleet having their own Disney Channel show like imagine if they were brought up that way omg

Notes: EVERYONE GIVE ALEX (@jmkho) SO MUCH LOVE FOR THE INCREDIBLE TITLE, I LOVE IT WITH ALL OF MY HEART SHE'S SO UNBELIEVABLY TALENTED!!! AND ADDISON (@starcatcherkiszka) THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT AND TALKING ME THROUGH THE PLAN FOR THIS FIC!! Much love to you both 🫶

Synopsis: In this pilot episode of a Disney Channel-esque show, the members of Greta Van Fleet all face their own personal challenges: Josh struggles with writer's block, Jake is convinced the studio is haunted, and Danny and Sam are in the midst of an intense prank war

Words: 5k (but it goes by fast since it's a script, trust me)

Warnings: ghosts/spookiness/hauntings, allusions to insanity, chimpanzees, James Hetfield

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The scene opens in the studio. Josh is pacing back and forth while murmuring to himself, Jake is perched on a stool with an acoustic guitar in his hand staring blankly at a wall, Danny is behind his drum kit attempting to twirl his drumsticks around, and Sam is sitting at his keys cradling an impressive cup of coffee. 

JOSH: I can’t believe this. 

JAKE: It’ll come to you, don’t worry. It always does. 

JOSH: No, it’s just, I don’t know. It feels different this time. Like, my brain isn’t coming up with anything. 

DANNY: I think the song you started writing about your rhinestones had potential. 

[Flashback to Josh brainstorming the rhinestone song]

JOSH: Twinkling, glittering, glimmering musical colors radiating on my face, my shining face, beaming at youuuuuuu…

[Cut back to the present]

Josh squints at Danny. It’s obvious he knows Danny is lying. 

JAKE: We have time before this song has to be done, Josh. No need to force it out. 

SAM: [to Jake] Actually I think he would work better under pressure. [to Josh] If we don’t finish this song in the next hour, I’m leaving the band. 

JAKE, DANNY: Sam! 

Josh drops to the floor and folds himself up in the fetal position with a moan. 

JAKE: Great idea, Sam. 

Jake sets his guitar down and squats next to Josh so he can place a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

JAKE: [to Josh] Why don’t we give you some space to work out the lyrics? 

Behind Jake and Josh, Sam takes a drink from his coffee and spits it out with a loud “BLEGH!” Everyone turns to look at him. 

DANNY: [cheekily] Burn your tongue? 

SAM: This tastes awful, like a salt lamp! 

JOSH: How do you know what a salt lamp tastes like? 

With a wide grin, Danny removes a handful of empty salt packets from his pocket and holds them up to Sam to see. 

DANNY: Gotcha. 

SAM: No! 

JAKE: Is this a part of your stupid prank war? 

SAM: It’s not stupid. 

DANNY: I’m beating Sam by a landslide. I only have to prank him three more times and then the crown will be mine. Sam, you have what? Seven more pranks? You’d think with two older brothers and all, you’d be a lot better at this. 

SAM: You haven’t seen my best pranks yet. 

DANNY: I’m hoping they’re better than drawing a banana on my drum kit. And my car. Actually, why do you keep drawing bananas on my stuff? 

SAM: It’s funny. 

DANNY: It’s annoying. 

Josh groans from the floor. 

JAKE: C’mon, Josh. Get up. 

Jake helps a limp Josh back to his feet and makes sure that he’s going to stand upright when he releases his grip on his shoulders. Josh looks dazed but stands vertically, which earns him a pat on the head from Jake. 

JOSH: I’m gonna get the studio to myself? 

JAKE: Yeah, we’ll give you some space to actually hear your own thoughts.

In the background, Danny crawls on his hands and knees to Sam’s feet where he proceeds to tie his shoelaces together. Sam is blissfully ignorant, giving his rank coffee another testing sip, which he spits out again. 

JOSH: Okay, yeah, hear my thoughts, good, yeah. 

Jake grabs his guitar and leads the way out of the studio, giving Josh a quick wave which Josh returns. Danny follows behind Jake and Sam stands to his feet, still unaware of his shoelaces. 

SAM: [whispering to Josh] Hey, give me a call if you need any help. 

JOSH: Thanks, I won’t. 

SAM: I’ve got some good ideas to motivate you to write something. 

JOSH: I don’t trust you. 

SAM: I’m only a phone call away. 

JOSH: Please leave the room, Sam. 

SAM: You’ve got it, brother. 

Sam starts to take a step forward and promptly tumbles to the ground with a thump. Danny and Jake pop their heads back into the room and start to laugh and taunt Sam, who is staring down at his feet in awe. 

SAM: DANNY! HOW? WHAT? WHEN? 

DANNY: [calling from outside the room] It’s too easy! 2 pranks to go! 

Sam grumbles, hastily unties his shoes, and then ducks out of the room, hanging his head in embarrassment. The door slams shut, finally engulfing Josh in silence. He closes his eyes and lets in a deep inhale, followed by a long exhale. He opens his eyes and sits on the floor next to a notepad and pen that had obviously been discarded in frustration earlier. 

Starcatchers Theme/Opening Titles

[acoustic theme song with a harmonica] 

From the fires we emerged anew, 

Singing, playing rock and roll, 

Reviving a genre just for you. 

Across the globe we traveled far

Recruiting an army of peace, 

Enchanting crowds with our guitar. 

A battle ensued at the Gardens Gate

And we preserved the gift of nature, 

Standing up against a culture of hate.  

We are the Starcatchers, reaching for the sky, 

Discovering words of wisdom to live by. 

We deliver a message from the heavens above:

Live your legend through the intelligence of love. 

[end theme] 

JOSH: [to the camera] It’s one song. Just a single song. What does it matter? People can never understand what I’m saying anyways, I could write literally anything. 

Josh immediately stares daggers at his notepad, deep in thought. His face is starting to turn red and his eyes bug out. He stops before his head explodes and throws himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the studio. 

JOSH: Nothing. 

Across the hall and a few doors down, Jake is in an empty studio, walking in circles while strumming his acoustic guitar. 

JAKE: [singing] What will we do with a drunken sailor? What will we do with a drunken sailor? What will we do with a drunken sailor ear-lay in tha mornin’! Way hay and up she rises, way hay and up she rises, way hay and up-

Jake is cut off by the sound of something scraping against wood. Jake’s face pales in fear and he whirls around in a quick circle, searching for the source of the sound. 

JAKE: I just wanna say, for the record, I can kick really, really hard. 

The scraping suddenly stops and Jake lets out a sigh of relief. Then, he catches a glimpse of a water bottle quickly jerking across a table in the corner of the room. It seems as though it moved on its own. In a blind panic, Jake drops his guitar and books it for the studio door. He jiggles and pushes on the handle to no avail. The door appears to be locked. 

JAKE: Ruh roh raggy.

Jake is breathing heavily now, well beyond the brink of panic, and starts to kick the door with all of his might. The threat he threw out earlier has some merit: he can kick really, really hard, but the door doesn’t budge. Jake squeezes his eyes shut and smacks his forehead.

JAKE: C'mon, brain. Give me something.  

Jake grabs hold of the door knob again. He twists the handle and tries pushing out, but the door is still sealed shut. Jake turns the knob again and pulls the door towards him. The door opens. 

JAKE: [staring at the door warily] You’ve got to be kidding me. 

Now free from the haunted studio room, Jake runs down the hallway as fast as he can, past Danny, who is sitting in the studio lobby. 

JAKE: Ghosts! 

Danny watches Jake run past and then, unbothered, looks back down at his phone. Behind him, Sam sneaks along the wall of the lobby like he’s in Mission Impossible, armed with two bananas. He creeps closer to Danny and can’t help but let out a soft laugh, which makes Danny turn around. 

DANNY: What’s going on? 

Sam quickly retracts both hands behind his back to hide the bananas. 

SAM: Nothing…

DANNY: What have you got behind your back? 

SAM: Oh, you know, stuff. Taxes. I have taxes. 

Before Sam can react, Danny springs to his feet, barrels towards Sam, grabs his arms, and tugs them out in front of him so Danny can see the two bananas. Danny and Sam both stare down at what’s in Sam’s hands, and then Danny shoots Sam a tired look. 

DANNY: More bananas? 

SAM: Hyah!

Sam tosses the two bananas at Danny’s chest so they hit him with a soft thump before dropping to the floor. Danny stares down at the bananas, expressionless. 

DANNY: You just bruised two perfectly good bananas. 

SAM: Pick them up, you’ll get the prank. It’s a really stellar one. 

Danny looks like he doesn’t want to, but he grabs the bananas and turns them around in his hands with his eyebrows arched. 

DANNY: Oh my god. You drew my car and drum kit on these? 

SAM: I’m on my A-game now, Daniel! 

Sam runs off, cackling loudly. Danny watches him go and shakes his head. 

DANNY: [to the camera] What does he think a prank is? 

Danny places the bananas on the lobby table and then sighs and walks in the direction Sam went, passing by the studio where Josh is currently holed up. In the studio, Josh is stationed in front of a whiteboard. 

JOSH: What story should I tell? What needs to be added to the Greta Van Fleet universe? [Speaking aloud as he writes on the whiteboard using a sharpie] I get carsick. No. Jake’s feet smell bad. No. Womb memories. No. European architecture. No. Argh! 

Josh launches the sharpie off to the side and it crashes against one of Danny’s cymbals. 

JOSH: This is impossible. I can’t do this by myself. 

Josh eyes a landline phone sitting in the studio. The screen splits in two as Josh calls James Hetfield, and he answers the phone. 

JAMES: Howdy, it’s the beast under your bed, in your closet, in your head. What can I do for ya? 

JOSH: Hey, quick question, do you ever have such a hard time writing a song that you want to pull your brain out of your head and play basketball with it? 

JAMES: Can’t say that I have. 

JOSH: Darn. 

JAMES: Want some advice? Don’t answer that. I’m gonna give it to you anyway. Write about the things that make your skin crawl, that make you shiver, that your brain actively avoids thinking about. That’s where your most complex emotions lay. 

JOSH: Eighteen wheelers. I’m certain they can’t see me when I’m driving next to them. 

JAMES: No, I’m talking about like the lowest of lows here. Think war, famine, plague, climate change, scary stuff. 

JOSH: Chimpanzees. Ooh, I’m getting shivers. I think it’s working, James!

JAMES: Oh, um, okay, get to writing then, Josh. I won’t keep you. 

With an air of triumph, Josh slams the phone down. 

Outside the studio, Jake is talking on the phone with a 9-1-1 operator. 

JAKE: I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, the water bottle moved. 

9-1-1 OPERATOR: No, I get what you’re saying. That’s not an emergency, sir. 

JAKE: Listen to me, the water bottle moved on its own. There’s something paranormal happening here, and I don’t want a poltergeist situation going down. Being sucked into a spooky closet is one of my top 10 fears. 

9-1-1 OPERATOR: I’m going to hang up. I have other calls to get to.

The line disconnects. Jake huffs and jams his phone back into his pocket. 

JAKE: How do they not have a paranormal sub-department? 

In the background in the parking lot of the studio, Danny tiptoes into frame with a marshmallow gun and a pair of goggles on. He scans the area and then crouches down, on the prowl, trying to find Sam. 

DANNY: [softly] Sammy, come out and play. I’ve got a little treat for you. 

Danny continues creeping around the cars and, as he moves past Sam’s Tesla, Sam jumps out of the trunk, decked out in a banana costume. 

SAM: [literally shouting] COME MISTER TALLY MAN, TALLY ME BANANA! 

DANNY: [shouting back] WHAT IS WITH YOU AND THE BANANAS? 

Sam reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a new banana, which he once again throws at Danny. 

SAM: How does it ‘peel’ to get pranked this hard, Daniel? 

Sam proudly removes himself from the trunk and stands in front of Danny, placing his hands on his hips with confidence. Danny can’t help but silently unload his marshmallow gun on Sam, pummeling him with mini marshmallows. Sam squeaks out in shock and ducks into a ball on the pavement. Danny continues until he’s out of marshmallows. 

DANNY: [down to Sam] One more prank to go. 

SAM: [coughing up marshmallows] You’ll never win. 

Jake runs over to his band members. 

JAKE: [still unbelievably on edge] There is something creepy afoot here. 

DANNY: I’ve told you before, Jake, the moaning sounds you keep hearing are coming from the experimental band’s sessions down the hall. 

JAKE: A water bottle moved right in front of my eyes. 

SAM: [mocking, from the ground] Ooh scary. 

Jake picks up a marshmallow from the ground and proceeds to chuck it at Sam. 

JAKE: [back to Danny] There’s a ghost in there and it’s upset that we’re invading its space. I’m gonna get sucked into a closet if I go back in there, and I can’t risk it. 

Danny and Sam exchange a glance. 

DANNY: I’ll go back in with you and show you that there’s nothing to worry about. 

SAM: And I’ll stay here because I really don’t care.

Danny shoots Sam a look and then guides a reluctant Jake back towards the studio. 

JAKE: Do you have any holy water on you? 

DANNY: I don’t think that works on ghosts, Jake. What do you think we’re up against here? 

JAKE: I want to be prepared for anything. 

Even though Jake is dragging his heels, Danny succeeds in pushing him through the front doors and guides him past the lobby, towards the “haunted” studio. Jake once again looks pale as a sheet. 

DANNY: See? Nothing supernatural going on here. Except you. God, you look like a ghost. 

JAKE: [whispering] I’m a ghost? 

DANNY: No, no, come on, show me the room where it happened. 

Jake starts to cautiously step towards the room when they hear Josh belting out lyrics down the hall. Danny and Jake stop in their tracks and listen. 

JOSH: Ooh! Ooh! Aah! Aah! Chimpanzee on my mind, coming near me, he’s by my side! 

Without uttering a word, it’s mutually agreed between Danny and Jake that they need to step in before Josh writes any more terrible lyrics. They both move to his studio door and storm in. Josh is sitting on a stool, shaking a tambourine, but stops when he notices them. 

JOSH: Something wrong? 

JAKE: What the hell are you singing? 

JOSH: [cautiously] The new song? 

DANNY: Chimpanzee on my mind? 

JOSH: You don’t like it? 

JAKE: Our album is called Starcatcher, Josh. Could you write about something a bit more on theme than apes? 

JOSH: [matter of factly] They sent a chimp to space.

DANNY: This is a good starting point, Josh. Maybe try to work with something a bit more abstract. How do chimps in space make you feel? 

JOSH: Confused. 

DANNY: Okay? Try to work off of that. 

JOSH: Yeah, yeah, okay. 

Josh shoos Jake and Danny out of the studio and looks back at his notepad with a sigh. Jake and Danny step out of the room and move back towards the haunted studio. Jake stands by the door, glued in place. Danny watches him. 

DANNY: Should I? 

Jake purses his lips and nods. Danny slowly pushes the door open and steps in first. Jake hesitantly follows behind him. Danny scans around. 

DANNY: Everything looks normal to me. 

Jake has peeled himself away from Danny and is stationed in front of the haunted water bottle, where all of his problems began. 

JAKE: [pointing a half centimeter to the right of where the water bottle is now sitting] It used to be here. But now it’s here. 

DANNY: Uh huh. 

JAKE: It jerked over on its own. I was nowhere near it. And there were weird scratching noises too. Maybe there’s something in the walls. 

DANNY: Like a squirrel? 

JAKE: Like a ghoul. 

DANNY: You know, what is a ghoul? 

JAKE: A force you shouldn’t reckon with. 

DANNY: I wish you could be a bit more specific sometimes. 

JAKE: I can’t help that I’m mysterious. 

DANNY: No, actually I do think that’s something you can help - 

A chilling sound fills the studio. 

MYSTERIOUS GHOSTLY VOICE: Oohhohohooooohhhhhoooooooooo

Jake screams and jumps into Danny’s arms. Danny instinctually catches Jake. The lights start to flicker.

JAKE: RUN, DANNY, RUN! BEFORE THE CLOSET OPENS AND TAKES ME!

DANNY: THERE’S NO CLOSET IN HERE, JAKE!

Danny runs out of the studio anyways and bumps into Sam, still dressed in the banana costume, in the hall. 

SAM: What’s going on? 

JAKE: [not making any sense] Water bottle and wood and oohhhooooohooohooo sounds and ghouls and spooky and closets and - 

SAM: Danny? 

DANNY: The studio is haunted. 

SAM: Oh, word. 

Jake squirms out of Danny’s arms and faces Sam. 

JAKE: You’re not freaked out? 

SAM: Why should I be? 

JAKE: Ghosts, Sam! They’ll get you! They’re always two steps ahead. 

SAM: Ghosts don’t have feet. 

JAKE: It’s an expression, Sam! 

Cut to Josh in his studio. Jake and Sam’s argument is muffled outside the door, but still audible. Josh sits back on the ground in front of his notepad and pen. 

JOSH: C’mere, lyrics, pspspsp, come to papa. 

This obviously does not work. 

JOSH: [tapping his pen on his chin] Maybe I’d be inspired by our old lyrics? Uhhh what’s a good one? Light My Love? Your mind is a stream of colors. Stream of colors, stream of colors, stream of co-lors. Stream of co…Hmmm. That’s it! A stream of consciousness! That should give me something to work with. 

Josh picks up his pen, suddenly filled with a new surge of energy, and starts to scribble on his paper. A montage of Josh writing in different dramatic angles plays with a song similar to Gonna Fly Now blaring in the background. He finishes writing and drops his smoking pen to the floor. 

JOSH: There. 

As if he’s dealing with an ancient relic, Josh carefully lifts the notepad up to his eyeline and carefully scans over what he wrote. 

JOSH: [reading aloud] All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. Oh god! It goes on for four and a half pages! 

Josh crumples the pages into tight balls and eats them, removing the evidence. Josh approaches the glass panel separating the studio from the sound booth and looks at his reflection, jabbing his finger into his reflection’s shoulder. 

JOSH: No one can know about this, you hear me? No one! This is between you and me. 

JOSH’S REFLECTION: Whatever you say, boss. 

Josh shakes his head and backs away from his reflection. 

JOSH: Woah. [to the camera] I wonder if Carole King has to deal with this. 

JOSH’S REFLECTION: She doesn’t, but James Taylor does. 

Josh hops away from the glass in shock and returns to the whiteboard in a daze. 

JOSH: [to himself] It’s all in your head. 

He attempts to wipe his previous notes away, but it’s not working since he wrote them out in sharpie. Josh drops his arms in defeat. 

JOSH: What’s the point? 

Josh reassumes his spot on the ground in the fetal position. In the studio lobby, Jake is in a similar position on the sofa, staring down at his knees in muted shock. Sam is sitting next to him, still in the banana costume, awkwardly patting his legs. Danny enters back into the room and takes a seat across from Sam and Jake. 

DANNY: I didn’t hear any weird noises in any of the other studios. Well, actually, I think I heard Josh talking to himself, but that’s not out of the ordinary. 

SAM: [to Jake] Hear that? The spooky ghost is on vacation. 

JAKE: [softly] Ghosts can’t go on vacation. 

SAM: How do you know? Are you a ghost? 

Jake huffs but doesn’t continue to argue. 

SAM: [to Danny] One of the assistants brought in some smoothies if you want one, they’re pretty good. 

DANNY: Oh cool, thanks. 

Danny grabs one of the smoothies from the table and takes a long sip. Sam is staring at him, looking on the brink of laughter. Danny sets the smoothie down and eyes Sam. 

DANNY: What? 

SAM: Got you! 

DANNY: [paling] What? What did you do? 

SAM: I put a little extra something in your smoothie. 

Jake untucks himself out of his fetal position to watch the exchange between Danny and Sam. This is some interesting stuff. 

DANNY: Sam, what did you do? 

Sam, beaming wide, pulls out a banana peel and drops it on the floor in front of Danny. Danny looks down at it. 

DANNY: I don’t get it. 

SAM: I put a banana in your smoothie! 

DANNY: Are you being serious? 

SAM: Samuel Francis Kiszka does it again! 

JAKE: Sam, smoothies already have bananas in them. It’s literally one of the main ingredients.

DANNY: Oh thank god, I thought you put laxatives in there. 

SAM: The banana strikes again! I’m right on your tail, Daniel! 

JAKE: I don’t think putting a banana in a smoothie counts as a prank, Sam. 

Sam pouts. A bang and a crash comes from down the hall where Josh is. Jake springs to his feet in alarm. 

JAKE: Josh? 

Completely forgetting about his paralyzing fear of the haunted studio, Jake rushes down the hall to Josh. Danny and Sam trail behind him. Jake throws open the door to the studio and gapes at Josh, who is bashing a tambourine against the glass panel separating the studio from the sound booth. 

JOSH: Stop! Talking! To! Me! Get! Out! Of! My! Head!

JAKE: Josh! Our insurance doesn’t cover trashed studios! 

Josh continues banging on the glass. It’s as if he doesn’t realize Jake is there. Jake tries to turn Josh around to face him, but Josh doesn’t budge. From Josh’s perspective, he’s smacking his reflection with the tambourine while his reflection laughs and taunts him. 

JOSH: Your treacherous ridicule will never break me! 

Danny rushes to Josh’s side and drenches him with a bucket of ice water, finally snapping Josh out of his spell. He stumbles back from the glass a few steps and then holds at his head and grunts. 

JOSH: [dejected] I didn’t write the new song. I got distracted. 

SAM: Yeah, obviously. 

Josh looks Sam down in his banana costume. 

JOSH: Did Danny and Jake tell you about my chimpanzee song? Did you like it or something? Is this an act of solidarity? 

SAM: Wait, you wrote a song about chimpanzees? 

JOSH: James Hetfield told me to write about something that scares me. 

SAM: And you wrote about chimpanzees? 

JOSH: He shot down my idea about eighteen wheelers. 

Sam doesn’t know how to respond to this. 

JOSH: I’m sorry, you guys. I’m just not getting inspired in the right way. I don’t know if the lyrics are ever gonna come to me. 

DANNY: Hey, they will. It just takes some time. 

JAKE: I say we call it quits for the day. I wanna get out of here. 

JOSH: [finally taking in Jake’s face for the first time] You look like you saw a ghost. What’s up with you? 

JAKE: [whispering] That’s exactly what happened to me. 

JOSH: Okay, yeah, let’s get out of here. 

Jake and Josh move for the door but then stop when they realize Sam and Danny aren’t following behind them. 

JOSH: You guys coming? 

SAM: We’ll be right behind you, just give us a second. 

Jake and Josh shrug and leave Sam and Danny behind. They move down the hallway and, when they pass the haunted studio, clawing noises sound inside the door. Jake and Josh exchange a terrified look. 

JOSH: Is that? 

JAKE: Yeah. 

They’re both stuck in place, staring at the door in fear. The door starts to thump and spooky sounds come from inside the room. Before Jake or Josh can react, two sets of hands pop out of the door and drag them into the room. 

JOSH: Oh mama! 

Jake and Josh are standing in the dark as the door slams shut behind them. 

JAKE: Josh? 

A bunch of crashing noises sound and Jake lets out a yelp. 

JOSH: Sorry, I tripped over something. 

Jake fumbles for his phone and turns the flashlight on. Across from him he can see a panic-stricken Josh, his eyes darting around looking for danger. Jake slowly moves the flashlight around the studio, taking in the empty space, and then lets out a holler when he sees a shadowed figure standing in the corner of the room. Josh sees what he’s looking at and screams as well. 

JOSH: It’s a chimpanzee! 

JAKE: What? No, it’s a vengeful spirit! 

The shadowed figure starts to slowly move closer to them and Jake and Josh embrace in a tight hug, screaming. 

JOSH: [shrill] Stay back! 

JAKE: I’m gonna kick you so hard in the gonads! 

The shadowed figure stops about 20 feet away from Jake and Josh. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: [in a large and booming voice] Jacob Thomas Kiszka and Joshua Michael Kiszka! 

Jake and Josh scream at the top of their lungs, still hugging. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: You have continually trespassed on my territory. You must face a reckoning for your carelessness. 

JOSH: Would a simple sorry suffice? 

SHADOWED FIGURE: NO! 

Jake and Josh cower further. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: You must go through the spooky door to another dimension. 

JAKE: Oh god, no! Anything but that! 

The door to the studio flings open on its own. Strobe lights and smoke flood into the studio from the door and Jake and Josh shield their eyes in fear. They both back up against the wall farthest from the door.

SHADOWED FIGURE: Whatever you think is beyond that door, it’s worse. 

JOSH: [whispering to himself] Eighteen wheelers. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: Three…

JOSH: Oh god not a countdown. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: Two…

JAKE: What do we do? 

SHADOWED FIGURE: One…

JOSH: It’s been nice knowing you, little bro. 

Jake whirls to face Josh. 

JAKE: By five minutes! 

SHADOWED FIGURE: Zero! 

Sam jumps between Jake and Josh, still in his banana costume. 

SAM: IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE HAS BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH MESOTHELIOMA - 

Jake and Josh jump about 4 feet in the air. 

JAKE AND JOSH: AAAAAAUUUGHHHHHHHHHH!!!

The lights to the studio flick back on and Jake and Josh are greeted by the sight of Sam and Danny standing in front of them, laughing hard. Danny is wearing a cloak, revealing him to be the shadowed figure. Jake pushes out of Josh’s embrace and storms up to Sam and Danny. 

JAKE: You need to start explaining yourselves now. 

Sam puts his hands up, guilty as charged. 

DANNY: I thought Sam was easy to prank, I guess it’s actually all the Kiszkas. 

SAM: It’s amazing what a voice changing microphone and some strobe lights can do. 

DANNY: And a fishing line. 

JAKE: A fishing line?

Sam moves over to the haunted water bottle, steps behind the piano, and tugs on a string, making the bottle lurch to the side. Jake stares, dumbfounded. 

JAKE: It was all you? 

Sam and Danny share a glance. 

DANNY: I mean, yeah. 

JAKE: Why I oughta…

Jake moves his foot back, ready to kick Sam and Danny with all of his might when Josh speaks up, capturing all of their attention. 

JOSH: I felt like such a massive chicken back there. But I think I finally understand what James was trying to tell me. I’m terrified of the unknown, of a feeling of hopelessness, where everything is crashing and burning around you, but you have to try and hold things together.  

SAM: My god, he’s doing it. 

Josh is already booking it back to his studio. 

JOSH: The lyrics are coming! They’re crowning! 

Jake looks back and forth between Danny and Sam like he still really wants to kick them, but ends up shaking his head and following behind Josh. Josh needs supervision in the studio moving forward - he can’t be left alone anymore. 

SAM: That was one hell of a prank, Danny. 

DANNY: I’m glad we could team up against Jake and Josh. They need a little humbling from time to time. 

SAM: I couldn’t have said it any better. 

Sam clasps Danny on the back and then motions towards the door. 

SAM: Wanna watch Josh’s creative genius at work? 

DANNY: I do like it when he yells, “BAJABULE!” every time he gets down a verse. 

Danny walks past Sam and moves through the door. Sam happily follows behind him. When Danny turns into the hallway, he subtly drops the banana peel that Sam had thrown in front of him earlier. Sam doesn’t notice and steps on it, slipping backwards and falling with a loud THUD. 

DANNY: Victory, baby!! 

SAM: [dramatically groaning from the ground] What a tragic end to a war. 

DANNY: Eat it! 

Danny does an impressive victory dance over Sam, who is still sprawled on the floor in defeat. Transition to Josh, Jake, Danny, and Sam playing The Falling Sky in the studio. As the song finishes, they all come together. 

JOSH: For a while there, I really thought I would never be able to write a song again.  

DANNY: We’ve got a real winner on our hands. You know, like me. 

SAM: Drop it, Daniel. 

DANNY: I think you owe me something, Sam. 

Sam grumbles but takes his bass off, retreats to the side of the studio, and returns with a crown made out of bananas. He brings it to Danny and places it on his head. 

SAM: [emotionless] I hereby pronounce you, Daniel Jean Louise Marie Wagner, King of the Pranks. All hail the king. 

Jake approaches Sam and Danny. 

JAKE: As a congratulations, I would like to extend my foot into both of your shins. 

As Jake is about to do this, the lights in the studio flicker out. 

JOSH: The same joke twice isn’t very funny, guys.

JAKE: I didn’t think it was that funny the first time around. 

DANNY: We didn’t do anything. 

SAM: Yeah, that wasn’t us. 

Chimp noises sound around the dark room. The band screams. 

END OF EPISODE

[comfortfromyourpain]