#i will watch it in a normal was tomorrow cause today i gotta watch jack and joker

[guzhufuren]

the korean web drama Fragile that was first announced as korean remake of Skam and then was retracted as such and advertised as its own show (with similar model of airing and themes) premiered

i skimmed through episode 1 and plainly, it is Skam. not just similar or reminds of, but a really damn faithful adaptation of the show, remade with korean filming style and mood. the story, characters' profiles and traits, relationships, the storytelling style (like intro speech about societal problems of high schoolers), showing the date of events in the beginning of a clip, the airing model with bonuses on social media, it's all identical. we have a korean Eva with horrible insecurities and loneliness, korean Ingrid who makes her feel like shit in classes, her boyfriend korean Jonas whose affection she is so unconfident about

korean Isak is very possessive of korean Jonas and his feelings can be seen like 5 kilometers away so i assume if it's renewed for more seasons we will see a gay storyline later too

korean Noora briefly appeared in the middle of the episode too and seems to be as cool as the original which thank god, korean Eva is gonna need her influence badly

if anyone is a Skam fan and wanted to watch back when it was announced and got discouraged when it was retracted as a remake, you can do it. as long as they don't suddenly go completely different way in episode 2, it's Skam Korea

[ventihonklightice]

Clingy || Wilbur Soot

word count: 3.5k

~~~

Y/N had been lounging around the flat all day as her boyfriend filmed videos with his fellow Minecraft friends. Wilbur had currently been recording with Tommy and Quackity, another one of their wild Minecraft mod videos. She knew her love was busy and had his responsibilities with his own videos alongside the ones made with his friends, but she had been scrolling through Twitter and saw that he had just gotten verified. There was no way he knew about the news as he had been busy all day doing his job.

A smile grew on her face as she rushed to his bedroom door to share the great news, however she paused as she heard the nature of his current discussion with his friends.

“- but she’s been good. We’ve been really good,” Y/N smiled at his words, seemingly knowing it was about her. That smile quickly disappeared at the words her boyfriend was about to spew. “Just, she’s been kind of needy and clingy or something,” Wilbur shook his head not fully understanding his own words, looking at the wall behind his monitor too lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t quite understand his own thoughts half of the time, especially today as all he has done was played Minecraft. Slowly, the hate he has been receiving has been catching up to him, forcing him into this pit he’d never thought he’d be in which added to the stress that fueled his words. “Like she thinks she always has to be with me. Right now even, she’s at the flat.” Wilbur ran his fingers through his messy brown hair as he proceeded to explain his relationship. “I love her, I do, but I can’t even be with her right now so I don’t understand why she has to be here,” he confessed, mind clouded with tiredness masked by the wine he downed in an attempt to calm his nerves.

Y/N furrowed her brows leaning forward to listen further. “Well, she loves you, so what do you expect her to do? Not want to be with you?” She heard an American accent, likely belonging to Quackity.

“I-I don’t know. It’s just- I’m not used to this. It’s been a while since I’ve seriously been with a girl like this before. I just need space, but she wants to be around me constantly. It’s annoying.” The anger, the annoyance, and the frustration were all evident in his voice, making Y/N second guess a lot of her choices the past few days. She looked down at her hands, the mustard sleeves reaching past her palms belonging to the man behind the door she leaned on.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to push back her tears before she walked away, not being able to listen to him any further. Her eyes began to water more and more as bothering him was the very last thing she had ever wished to do. She sat on the couch before pulling the jumper off of her body, folding it neatly in her hands before pulling on her shoes.

Fanning her face quickly to reduce any possible puffiness or redness, Y/N timidly knocked on the door to Wilbur’s room. “Hold on guys,” he spoke to his friends, muting himself on discord. “Yeah?” She heard his deep voice call from the other side, taking it as her cue to push the door open. His hair fluffed about as he turned to face her. “Hey what’s up?” He asked with a soft smile.

“I uh think I’m gonna head home, got an early shift tomorrow and all,” she spoke softly while avoiding his gaze. Y/N wasn’t one to lie so she felt guilty for doing so but she didn’t know what else to do.

He furrowed his brows, confused at her words. She almost always stays the night, especially when she works early because he lives closer to her job.

“You sure? You’re more than welcome to stay the night. Y-You always do,” he muttered with slight concern in his words as he took his headset off.

She shook her head lightly, “nah it’s alright. Gotta water the plants,“ Y/N fiddled with the door handle as her other hand traced the sweater, knowing full well she doesn’t have any plants.

“Alright, I’ll walk you out,” he stood up, adjusting the chair in order to do so. Y/N reached out to him, his jumper resting in her hand, “where’d you like me to put this?”

He stood up, increasingly getting confused at her actions because he knew that she loved wearing his clothes and stealing them any chance she got. “I-I’ll um, just toss it on the bed,” he pointed to the made bed, slipping on his shoes to walk her out.

She felt his form loom over her as he walked with her out of the flat and to her car. They walked in silence, uncharacteristically. Wilburs’s hands were stuffed in the pockets of his pants lost in his thoughts as he heard her car alarm He walked to the driver’s side, lost in his thoughts while he opened the door for her.

She approached the door, getting ready to sit in the driver’s seat before turning to Wilbur to bid goodbye. He leaned down to kiss her, standard for all of their farewells, but she turned her head at the last second, his lips crashing onto her cheek. His heart dropped at the odd situation he was placed in, wondering why this was happening.

“I-I’ll see you later,” she smiled softly before sitting down and preparing to drive.

He could let her go like this. He had to know if things were good, okay even. Before he shut the door, he leaned down a bit to get closer to her. “Is everything okay? You seem a bit off, darling.”

“Y-yeah I’m just really tired,” she chuckled humorlessly, placing a hand on her forehead. “Sorry, it’s just been a weird day.”

“If you’re that tired you could stay here,” his voice practically pleaded, assuring her once more that she always had a place there.

“I-I’ll be fine, I promise.” Her words were soft along with her eyes, but she just wanted to give him what he desired; space.

“You sure?” He asked once more, extremely concerned, but what answer was he really expecting? Y/N nodded her head, “positive.”

“Alright, text me when you get home,” he leaned back, preparing to shut the door for her. She nodded her head, pushing her keys into the ignition. “I love you,” he spoke sincerely, bending down so that she’d be able to see him better once more. There was an emotion in YN’s eyes that he couldn’t recognize, but the smile on her face was sad. “I-you too, I’ll see you later,” she fiddled with her keys before meeting his gaze.

His heart shattered at the words. You too? What the hell is that suppose to mean?

He gave a tight smile before shutting the door for her. You too, the words echoed in his mind as he began walking back to the front door, pausing his steps on the pavement to watch her pull out of the driveway. He sighed before turning back to his path home. Upon returning, the place felt dimmer without her presence and he quickly took note of that.

Letting out a huge sigh, he plopped down at his desk, unmuting himself on Discord. “Sorry bout that, I’m back. J-Just walking Y/N out,” he spoke, taking the only opportunity his friends quieted down to speak.

“Wilbur!” Tommy yelled as the rest of the VC, which now had Niki, Jack and Fundy, errupted in chaos. “W-What? What the fuck happened?”

“Dude you got verified on Twitter,” Quackity shouted. His eyes went wide, opening the light blue app to see if it was true. Sure enough, a small check mark emphasized his name. He beamed at the sight of it, rushing to make a tweet about how grateful he was.

He went back to his feed, noticing that Y/N had made a tweet about ten or so minutes prior.

y/n✨| @yourusername

so proud of my favorite boy getting verified <3 love you @WilburSoot !!

His heart clenched at the tweet, being drawn back to the events that occurred moments beforehand. He liked and retweeted it, watching his fans swoon at the couple’s interaction without knowing what was happening behind closed doors, before getting back to his friends being completely distracted by thoughts on the girl he loves.

~~~

Y/N never texted him to tell him that she was home. She woke up late that morning seeing a few texts from him about twitter, how his stream went and so on.

As she looked at the time on her phone, realizing the lie she told him about working early and chose not to answer quite yet.

She spent the rest of her day around the house, cleaning, cooking or watching TV. She wasn’t in any mood to go on social media, not wanting to interact with Wilbur quite yet. Y/N sighed thinking about yesterday, thinking that it would be a better idea to just give him some space.

And so she did, for several days before Wilbur’s worry consumed him.

He sat on Discord with his friends, days after his last interaction with his girlfriend. “It’s just weird because she’s never like this. She always calls or texts me whenever she gets the chance regardless of whether or not I ask,” he expressed to his friends as they were fucking around on their own Minecraft world. He wasn’t even paying attention to what he was doing in the game, just aimlessly pressing buttons and moving his mouse as he thought of Y/N.

Tommy chuckled shortly, “now look whos being needy.”

“Shut up Tommy,” Wilbur explained, running a hand across his chin, fingertips gracing his incredibly overgrown stubble. “Look I’m just saying,” the blond furthered, “there’s no need for you to say she’s clingy or whatever when your freaking out over a text! Like you saw her less than what, two, three ago?”

Wilbur shook his head, fuming now, “Oh my god, shut the fuck up Tommy! How would you, a literal child, know anything about what’s going on? You’ve barely hit puberty!” His outburst caused his friends to quiet down, them not being used to anger being directed in such a way.

“Wilbur,” Tommy started once again, becoming more serious, “I know you. You worrying over a few short days almost disproves everything you said the other day. I think you don’t know how to handle affection well, not that she’s clingy or whatever.” Hearing Tommy acting serious and not childish for this one second made something snap within Wilbur, knowing that the child was right.

He sighed, “I-I’m sorry for snapping at you. Everything is happening at once in my life right now and Y/N not talking to me has me worried. This isn’t what’s normal between us. It’s strange.”

“But isn’t this what you wanted? She isn’t being as ‘needy’ now. You got your wish, didn’t you?” George chimed in, hoping to help even though his own experiences with relationships hasn’t always been the best.

“Yeah, and I fucking hate it, I don’t know why I even said that. I don’t mean it. I love when she’s around, I hate when she isn’t,” Wilbur went on, his thoughts focusing on the good memories he has with his girlfriend.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Dream spoke ominously, feeling as if now was the most appropriate time to speak.

“I-I’m gonna call her,” the distressed twenty year old expressed, whipping out his phone to go to her number. As the phone rang, he became more and more nervous.

“What if she got in an accident? Or someone kidnapped her or something?”He rushed before him and his friends heard “please leave a message for 3-“

“Wilbur, she’s probably fine. She probably had a long day at work or something,” Niki spoke, hoping to add a small but of optimism to the situation.

“Yeah but she would’ve told me that. She would’ve called me to rant about her day, and tell me how much she wanted to see me, but she didn’t.” He leaned back in his chair, getting more and more stressed out over this.

“I-I think I’m gonna head to her flat.”

~~~

The drive was long as his anxiety slowly but surely began to increase with every green light. He pulled into her complex, parking and building up the courage to confront her.

“It’ll be fine. Things are fine,” he muttered to himself as he walked up the steps to the familiar doormat.

He knocked on the door, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. After a minute, there was no response so he knocked again with more ergency.

“Just a minute,” he heard her soft voice yell out, flooding him with relief. The voice wasn’t as warm as it typically was, only increasing his nervousness.

Before he knew it, Y/N opened the door, eyes meeting his chest before trickling to his eyes. “Wilbur? What are you doing here?”

He froze, shocked at the situation that he forced upon himself without realizing it. “I-You weren’t answering any calls or texts. I was worried,” he mumbled, immediately taking note of her puffy eyes.

“Have you been crying?” He stepped closer to her with concern lacing his voice. He reached out to hold her waist, caress her cheek, anything, but she stepped away slighted. Y/N blinked, “y-yeah, it’s just allergies.”

“You don’t have allergies like that Y/N. May I please come in?” Wilbur knew her better than that, probably even better than she knew herself. She nodded shortly opening the door wider for him to enter, looking down at her sock clad feet.

He entered the tiny flat, taking not that the once welcoming space has become littered with turmoil. The tissues by the sofa didn’t go unnoticed and neither did the pile of dishes in the sink. “What’s been going on? These past few days you’ve been acting strange,” he asked sincerely.

Y/N looked around, finding something and pretending to be busy with it. “I’ve just been busy,” she mumbled looking over the pile of mail she refused to actually look through. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, would you like some tea?” She asked, realizing her manners.

“Y/N,” he spoke defeated, “come on talk to me, please.” He practically begged as he followed her steps into the kitchen to start the kettle, even though he didn’t give her an answer.

“Everything’s fine, Wilbur,” she replied absentmindedly as she searched for her various teas. “We got chai tea, black tea, Engli-“

“Y/N, I dont fucking want tea right now I want you to talk to me,” he shouted, approaching her in the kitchen and forcing her to face him by pulling her waist gently. She gasped at the loudness of his words, not used to him yelling at her.

“Wilbur,” Y/N whispered, her hands on his chest as he looked down into her eyes. Desperation was clear in his before being mimicked in his words, “this is the longest you’ve gone without calling me Wil. Come on Y/N, please.” His voice cracked towards the end, the shakiness not leaving.

She closed her eyes tightly before she pulled herself out of his arms, turning to grab two mugs out of the cupboard, “you’re getting chai tea.”

“Love, I just want us to be okay,” he spoke passionately, pleading for things to be right.

“We are okay Wilbu- Wil,” she corrected, more so forcing the nickname to combat his complaint. As she prepared each cup, putting Wilbur’s desired amount of sugar into his cup and respectively her own.

He shook his head, not believing her words as his own eyes began to turn red, “there’s something wrong and I can tell. Please just-please Y/N.” His voice was completely broken and she knew she had to express her concerns. She paused her motions, staring at the jar of sugar she just placed onto the counter.

“I-I didn’t want to bother you,” she muttered softly, examining the mugs before her.

The man sniffed, confusion growing within him. “W-What do you mean? You could never bother me Y/N,” his voice soft, approaching her once again.

She shook her head, moving to put sugar in each cup, forgetting that she already did so, “but that’s not true. We both know that.” The water remained on the stove while copious amount of sugar occupied each cup. Wilbur gently grabbed the hand holding the spoon that shoveled the sugar into the mugs, making her stop her own actions.

“Yes it is, love.” Wilbur whispered softly as she put the spoon into the jar, coming back to reality. Y/N let out a shaky breath, facing the counter while Wilbur occupied her side, facing her.

“So why’d you tell all of your friends that I’ve been clingy and needy and overbearing and everything under the sun?” She whispered as her voice wobbled, indicating that tears would soon come falling down.

Wilbur furrowed his brows, confused at the words she expressed. He scavenged his mind, not understanding what she was stating. “What are yo-“ he cut himself off, taking his hand from hers as he remembered that conversation.

Guilt washed over his soul as he realized the greater impact of his words. She thought she had to change....for those idiotic meaningless words expressed in a fit of stress and exhaustion. He shook his head lightly, refusing to look at her, refusing to look at the damage he’s caused.

“I didn’t mean it Y/N. I just-there was a lot on my plate and I just had to complain about something. A-And you were there to complain about.” He spoke honestly, knowing that it doesn’t excuse his behavior. The sound of the kettle went off, the whistle tones attacking his ears while Y/N ignored it to focus on the conversation at hand.

“I just didn’t want to be a burden,” she muttered with a wobbling bounce that made the tall idiotic man pull her into his arms.

“No,no,no don’t ever ever think that again. You are not a burden. You never were Y/N. This is on me, I shouldn’t have said what I had said,” he muttered into her hair, repeating apologies like a mantra while kissing her hairline.

She let go, allowing her pent up feelings from the past few day flow out through tears while in the comfort of his arms, “my biggest fear is bothering people. I-I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You didn’t,” he pulled away to hold her tear stained cheeks in his hands, regret prominent in his gaze, “you have been nothing but patient with me these past few months and that is something I don’t even have the words to express, love.”

“You, Y/N L/N, are not a burden, not now, not ever,” he whispered lovingly. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry I even said it. I didn’t mean it, but fuck I shouldn’t have. Look at what I’ve done to you,” his voice wavered as he pulled away to assess the damage. “Fuck,” he shook his head as a sob escaped his lips before he could pull her into his arms again.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, holding her tight while the whistle pierced his ears. She leaned back slightly, pressing her forehead against his while closing her eyes, “I know, I know. It’s okay. I know you. I know you wouldn’t mean it.”

“I love you,” he whispered, holding her head in one of his hands. “I love you too, Wil,” she whispered back, pulling his lips onto hers, sealing their words with this actions.

As much as he loved the feeling of her soft lips on his once again, he pulled away. “Okay, okay, as much as I don’t want this to stop, that damn kettle is driving me mad,” he expressed, making Y/N chuckle before kissing him on the cheek and going to turn off the stove.

He watched fondly as she was about to pour the water into the mugs, stoping to see the plethora of sugar in each. “Oh shit,” she paused, laughing at the mess she had made. Wilbur snapped out of his gaze, examining the scene that caused her words.

He shook his head lightly, grabbing the kettle from her hands before placing it back onto the stovetop. “You,” he turned to face her, poking her cheek, “go to bed, get all comfy and put on a film. I will finish the tea and bring it to you.” His eyes got soft towards the end of his statement as he went to assess the mug situation.

“Then,” he spoke gently, grabbing her waist once again, littering her face with kisses that trailed down her neck, “I’ll spend the whole day making it up to you.”

Y/N laughed, running her fingers through his soft hair, “can’t wait.” His lips stayed pressed onto her neck, before they made their way back to her own.

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

Since [redacted] seems to have forgotten the character of Sam Winchester, I wanted to give everyone a brief reminder that this is Not My Sam Winchester. Not the one who always wanted Dean to fight to keep living, to keep loving, to keep embracing that he is worthy and valued and deserving of happiness and a fulfilled life. Not the one who got addicted to demon blood so he could save people possessed by demons by pulling the demon out of them without harming their bodies.  Not this Sam.  Sam Winchester is not a man who would be happy someone else died so he could live.

But since we are all talking about it, buddies - 

[insert banner art with WINC*ST shippers keep your hands off this post here]

Receipts after the cut.

(I also wanted to add that honestly this commentary is not surprising.  See this post.)

2x22 All Hell Breaks Loose (part 2)

SAM (Voice breaking) 

How long do you get?

DEAN 

One year. (SAM nods, tears in his eyes.) I got one year.

SAM 

You shouldn't've done that. How could you do that?

DEAN 

Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you. That's my job.

SAM 

And what do you think my job is?

DEAN 

What?

SAM 

You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? 

And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change.

3x10 Dream a Little Dream of Me

05x22 Swan Song

DEAN

So then what am I supposed to do? SAM

You go find Lisa. You pray to god she's dumb enough to take you in, and you – you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me. 

8x22 Clip Show

SAM

You heard Crowley. He's not gonna let one near us, and without a demon, all we can do is sit back and watch people we know, people we saved, die like Sarah.

DEAN

So what are you saying?

SAM

I'm saying... Maybe this isn't one we can win. Maybe we should just take the deal.

8x23 Sacrifice

9x07 Bad Boys

SAM You just got lucky?

DEAN nods.

SAM (continues) Kind of like you did with this place. I mean, here I was thinking this was the worst part of your life, and it turns out it was the best. Why'd you ever leave?

DEAN Never felt right.

SAM Really?

SAM Dean ... Thank you.

DEAN For what?

SAM For always being there, for – having my back. Look, I know it always hasn't been easy …

10x07 Girls Girls Girls

SAM

What you said earlier, back there, about being past saving -- were you really --

10x23 Brother’s Keeper

DEAN

And I was wrong. You were right, Sam. You knew that this world would be better without us in it.

SAM

No, no, no, wait a second. You're twisting my words here, Dean.

[Sam reaches into his jacket and holds some photos in his hand]

SAM

Take these. And one day, when you find your way back... Let these be your guide. And they can help you remember what it was to be good...what it was to love.

[Sam looks down and places the two pictures we saw in the opening on the floor. One of Mary Winchester and Dean as a young boy and another of Mary, Dean and Sam as an infant. Sam looks back up at Dean and Dean hesitates, looking conflicted. Death is standing behind Dean]

11x02 Form and Void

Dean deserves a life.”

11x05 Thin Lizzie

11x23 Alpha and Omega

SAM:

Dean, you know, you don't have to do this.

12x22 Who We Are

SAM

Promise.

13x23 Let the Good Times Roll

SAM

Kill me.

JACK

What? ‭

SAM

Kill me.‬‬‬‬

You can stop him, Jack. You can get your power back.

JACK

No, I-I c-can't. 

 ‭‬‬‬SAM

What?‬

JACK

I know you can.

14x01 Stranger in a Strange Land

SAM

Cas, I -- No, I-I-I don't blame you. I... Honestly, I-I wish I'd have thought of it first. If it meant finding Dean, I-I'd work with -- 

14x12 Prophet and Loss

SAM You have one card today! But we’ll find another tomorrow. But if you quit on us today, there will be no tomorrow! You tell me, uh, you don’t know what else to do. I don’t either, Dean. Not yet. But what you’re doing now, i-it’s – it’s wrong! It’s quitting! I mean, l-look what just happened. Donatello never quit fighting. So we could help him because he never gave up.

14x20 Moriah

SAM

I'm the one who brought him back, and I brought him back because he's family. And then he came back, and he burned his soul off to save us... you and me. And now what? You... Now you... you want my permission? You want me to say I'm cool with losing him and losing you all at once? 'Cause I can't do that. I won't say that, 'cause I...

15x20: Carry On (I am so mad I am so mad I am SO mad that I even had to go to this transcript but this is important to include)

SAM

Yeah.

Um... alright.

I'll call for help. I'll get the first-aid kit.

***I’m sure there are more examples than this, but none of this tracks with what was said in the article.  THIS is the show I watched.  

Honestly, the only Sam That Would Have Agreed With What Was Said is this one -

[twistedlymad]

Hi there its me again. So I was just wondering since you mostly have a the reader being a girl, why not have another incident from your lovely chaos trio (grim, ace, and deuce) that made the reader turn to the opposite gender. End of story reader changes back, but for some odd reason the whole boy college suddenly became an all female college. 😈😈

Hello again!! I’ve gotta say, that ending twist there made me widen my eyes :’)

Thank you for making a request again! This took a little longer than I expected? I’ve decided to make this into a 2-part story as I didn’t really expect myself to blurt out this many words for this story XD 

I also added a cut so that you don’t have to keep scrolling every time you want to just browse Tumblr and my post keeps getting in the way.

Nevertheless, I hope this story meets your expectations! Thank you for requesting and have a lovely day!!

What if you became a boy? (Ft. Ace, Deuce, Grim, Epel, Jack and Sebek) (Part 1/2)

“Come on! If you don’t complete at least 100 laps around the field, you won’t have big muscles like me!!” A teacher clad in red shouted to the first-years. Students here and there were breathless, taking breaks and leaning onto each other for support. You were breathless as well, considering it was your 59th lap, you’d say you did pretty well! You smiled to yourself and took a rest before continuing your laps.

“Quick!! We’re going to miss out on P.E!!” A certain orange-haired male said to his other 2 friends. You see, due to Ace, Deuce and Grim not really passing their grades in Alchemy, they had the initiative to ask for extra credit from Professor Crewel. With that being said, the three first-years were on their way to the field from the lab to not miss out on their sports time. Could you blame them? Sports to them was like, freedom!

“Grim! You sure you have the potion?!” Deuce asked the creature on his head.

“Yes I do! I’m not as dumb as you think yanno? After all, I am the Great Grim!” The furball replied, holding out a bottle containing a colourless liquid.

“Great! Keep it safe!” Said Deuce as he and Ace navigated through the crowd of people in the hallway, trying to save what little P.E time they had left.

Soon after, they arrived at the field, they placed down their stuff on the bench where you guys would usually sit to take a break. Ace and Deuce placed down their books and Grim placed down the bottle. The three immediately rushed to the field to start their laps.

You just finished your laps and you absolutely tired. You sat down at the bench where the three had just put down their stuff. You looked at them as they were already on their 46th lap. Since they were boys, they had a little bit more stamina compared to you. While you just sat down, they already ran 7 laps. You kept your focus on them, admiring how they managed to run so much and they weren’t even breathless at all.

‘It’s nice to be a boy huh?’ You thought to yourself while subconsciously picking up a bottle. You looked at it and it seemed to be a normal water bottle, nothing out if the ordinary and you were parched, so, you took a sip from it.

The water tasted… funny? You winced at the taste and quickly set the bottle back down.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have drank that…’ You thought. Ace, Deuce and Grim were taking a break and sat down next to you.

“So, how was your extra credit class?” You asked the trio. They just looked at you, taking a few breaths before answering.

“Professor Crewel had us make a potion. He said the drinker would have something change to the opposite after they took a sip from the potion.” Ace started off.

“Yeah, but he had something to do last minute and he’ll judge our potion tomorrow, so we were dismissed.” Grim continued.

“Of course, we couldn’t leave the potion out in the open, so we scooped it into a bottle and brought it here.” Deuce said and pointed to the bottle. You saw where he pointed to and you realize it’s the exact same bottle that you just took a sip from. Your eyes widen slightly.

“Y-you mean, the potion is in this bottle?” You stuttered.

“Yeah, why?” Ace asked.

“N-Nothing! Nothing at all…” You said with a fake smile.

You were terrified! What did they mean by ‘have something change to the opposite’?! Were they referring to your body parts? Like your hair changing into an opposite color? Your hands would become your legs? Your eyes would be at the back of your head? You didn’t know and you were afraid to ask.

But, so far, nothing’s happened. You didn’t know why either. Did the potion need time to take its effects? Did the potion only work at a certain time? Did the trio brew the wrong potion AGAIN?

You tried to believe that they did brew the wrong potion again what they said next left you speechless.

“I’m glad we brewed the right potion. If anything went wrong, there would be some color in it, but this liquid is completely clear!” Deuce said.

“Right? It almost looks the same as normal water!” Ace replied with a smirk.

“Of course it would be right! I, the Great Grim, brewed it alongside the two of you!” The furball said.

“Yeah, right.” The ADeuce-combo said sarcastically.

You were screaming internally, but your face didn’t show any signs of you freaking out. Your poker face game was on point there! Now that you knew they brewed the right potion, you couldn’t help but think what was going to happen to you and when would it happen. You went so deep into thought, you didn’t notice the trio was calling out to you.

“Hello? Twisted Wonderland to (Y/N)?” Ace waved in front of you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You blinked and looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“P.E. class ended, we can go to our next class now.” Deuce said, packing up his stuff and taking the bottle containing the potion.

“O-Oh, okay.”

“Yanno, (Y/N), are you alright? You’ve been spacing out a lot today.” Grim asked you as he landed on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine, let’s go back and rest.” You reassured the creature on your shoulder while nuzzling against his head. You took your stuff and walked with your friends to your next class.

You then spent the day going to classes and hanging out with your friends. Like watching Epel train with Jack and Deuce, breaking up Ace and Deuce after Ace insulted Deuce’s pink colored leopard shorts while they trained for track and field, refraining Grim from stealing anyone’s dinner and causing any ruckus resulting in the headmaster punishing the two of you. You know, the usual chaos. And because of this chaos, you forgot that you accidentally drank a bit of the potion.

After dinner, you said your goodnights to your friends as you and Grim head back to Ramshackle Dorm.

“Alright, I’m going to hit the hay…” Grim said as he plumped himself on the bed that you two shared.  You tucked the creature in before crawling in yourself. You fell asleep soon after.

The next morning, sunlight greets your eyes through a window beside your bed. You tossed a little before sitting up, you weren’t fully awake then. However, when you let out a yawn you snapped your eyes open and quickly closed your mouth.

Why did it sound like a boy was yawning in your place?

You got out of bed and rushed to a nearby mirror. You saw that your face was no longer feminine but rather manly, your hair was cut very short instead of (normal length) hair, your hands were a lot rougher instead of elegant. Of course, there were two more changes made to your torso and from the waist down but I’m not allowed to say it.

You kept blinking to check if you’re fully awake to acknowledge this, you even pinched yourself to make sure. Once you did, you were too shocked to say anything. A few seconds later, only you let out a manly shout. That, woke Grim up.

“(Y/N)? What time is it?” The creature asked, rubbing his eyes. You turned to look at him. Once the furball opened his eyes and sees you, he immediately got aggressive.

“Fgnaaaaaa! Who are you?! What’re you doing in our dorm?!” Blue fire began to fly towards you.

“Grim! Wait! It’s me! (Y/N)!” You yelled out while dodging his attacks. The creature let out a ‘hmph’ before continuing blasting magic at you.

“You seriously think I would fall for something like that? (Y/N)’s a girl you dummy! Fgnaaaaaa!” The creature said and it immediately clicked in your mind.

“A potion that changes something to the opposite.” You said to yourself. The opposite of a boy is a girl. The potion you drank changed your gender!

“I am (Y/N)!! I accidentally took a sip of the potion from your extra credit class yesterday!” You blurted out.

“Oh yeah?! Tell me something that only (Y/N) would know.” Grim said and stopped his attacks. You thought about it for a moment.

“If you need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, you need me to hold your hand and walk you to the bathroom. You also need me to ‘stand guard’ for any potential threats while you did your business. All because you’re afraid of the boogeyman.” You said, looking at him with a smirk plastered onto your face.

“It’s actually you (Y/N)! But don’t let that secret slip past your mouth to anyone!” Grim said and ran into your arms. You hugged the creature back.

“Yeah, I’ll take it to my grave, don’t worry you scardy-cat.” You said, patting his head.

“Why did you drink that potion anyway?!” Grim asked you, you sweatdropped.

“It was during Physical Education, I already completed 100 laps around the field and I was parched. I noticed a bottle on the bench we would usually sit at and the liquid was colorless. I, for one, thought it was water, so I took a sip.” You said as you sat down on the bed, Grim still in your arms.

“Yanno! You’re really careless!” Grim scolded you.

“To think I would be scolded that by you and especially you.” You laughed and sat Grim down on the bed.

[evqnbuckley]

Chapter 1: Hopeless

Okay so i wrote my thoughts on what I wanted the finale to be and this got out of hand...this is like almost if not 6k and i’m not even finished. If this is popular enough I’ll continue to post on here but I’m gonna continue to update on ao3! @princesscas

Sam awakens from his nightmare, disoriented. The visions of seeing himself grow old, having a family and dying feel all too real. The beginning of his nightmare is fading and somewhat fuzzy but he remembers Dean making an appearance. He remembers seeing himself fight alongside his brother, killing some vampires, a normal hunt. Then his memory clears and the image of his brother impaled against a wooden pole catches his breath.

He wipes a hand across his face, trying to erase the images of Dean saying goodbye, of Dean's hand dropping as he took his last breath, and the image of lighting his own brother's pyre.

Sam pulls the covers off and walks toward the kitchen for a glass of water. The bunker is quiet, peaceful even. He still hasn't gotten used to calling it home, not really. The thing about a home is, four walls don't constitute it. Family is similar. It's not based on who you're related to but who loves you and has your back. Family, a home, whatever they are things you build around you. He had learned that long ago.

The wooden floors creak as he walks through the library. The silence is deafening yet comforting. It's a reminder that, for once, the world isn't ending. The linoleum sends shivers down his spine as he enters the kitchen. Sam replays the nightmare in his head while he downs a glass of water from the sink. The images slowly become distorted and misplaced in his memory. He eventually cannot picture it in his mind.

Sighing, Sam places the glass in the sink and walks back to his room. His feet make a pit-pat noise, approaching the hallway. Dean's door is cracked open slightly with faint light seeping through. Sam turns toward the door and peers in. His face softens, taking in the scene. Dean is cuddling a pillow adorned with a worn, rough, blue pillow case. The light emits from a lone lamp on his desk. Some type of paper for a mechanic position sits atop a few books from the library. Sam eyes the paperwork, puzzled. Dean never told me he got a job. Underneath, one of the books has a bookmark in three different places. There are a few crumpled up papers on and around the floor. Sam picks one up and unravels it.

Cas I know you're in the empty and you probably can't hear me….why did you do it? Why didn't you tell me about the deal before? I know I messed up and Billie was about to kill us both but….we could have died together found another way.

Why didn't you tell me?

Sam picks up another one. This time it's the one closest to the trash can. The markings are a bit sharper than the paper before. Almost more angry. It appears some words are smudged but still legible.

I try to move on and put on a brave face for Sammy. He needs to know now that Chuck is gone we can move on. We have to. I have tried to find a way to bring you back Cas. None of the books are fucking useful. I can't read Enochian. I don't even know if Enochian text is the key to saving you. I've tried contacting Rowena but i think she's busy. I'm at my wits end. I haven't gotten much sleep to be honest. As I'm writing this I have looked through 28 books all based on portals to other dimensions, hell, sacrificial rituals and reverse rituals. Even Astral projecting. I don't know what to do….

Sam swallows past the dry lump caught in his throat. He glances at Dean, making sure he's still asleep. Dean briefly shifts, pulling the pillow closer. Sam relaxes and picks up one more crumpled up paper. This one appears fresh, as if Dean wrote it tonight.

I tried praying to the angels. They didn't listen. No one is listening. Jack isn't even listening. He took himself out of the story, I know but this is you I'm talking about. How can he just sit by while you're suffering. I guess I'm on my own.

Why did you say that now?

The last sentence confuses Sam. He burrows his eyebrows as he studies the three entries. Dean is searching for a way to save Cas. To bring him back. And he didn't tell me? Sam quietly crunches the papers back up and places them back where he found them. Dean doesn't move. As Sam switches the lamp off, he feels the heaviness of the dark engulf him. I have to talk to Dean tomorrow.

Dean rolls over as the aroma of burnt bacon fills his room. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he sits up. Realizing that Sam is about to burn the bunker down, he slips on his robe and jogs to the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Well good morning to you too," Sam replies a bit offended. He's flipping bacon as Dean yanks the tongs out of his grip. "What- I am making breakfast. Can I not make breakfast?"

"I don't know what you think you're making but it definitely, definitely ain't breakfast," Dean smarts. He trashes the burnt bacon and starts a new batch. "Sit. No, why don't you make some coffee."

"Already did. Here ya go," Sam slides Dean's mug across the island, "your highness," Sam says under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, me too," Sam perks up. "I think I found something that screams our kinda thing. We should head there after we eat breakfast. It's not too long of a drive." Dean finishes as he places the cooked bacon on some paper towels and grins from ear to ear. Sam just watches as his brother starts on some scrambled eggs. This might be more challenging than I had hoped.  

"So when you said our sorta thing you meant pie?"

"I meant pie," Dean confirms with a satisfied smirk. "Now, I'm gonna go eat me some of that pie."

"Didn't we-Dean we just had breakfa- nevermind," Sam gives in and follows Dean through the crowd.

Several families are participating in the pie fest. Some are gearing up to find out who can eat the most pie, who makes the best pumpkin pie, and some are just making whip cream pies and pieing each other. Sam observes those around him with a small smile. A life he desperately wants someday but knows he can't have. Or can I?

Dean approaches Sam with a big box and almost runs into some bystander. "Hey, watch it."

"What is that?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"I couldn't pick just one! Come on, Sammy we're at a pie fest. What do you take me for?"

"An idiot."

Dean ponders his answer and let's it slide. He picks up one of the pies and offers it to his brother. Sam declines. "Dude, you gotta at least try it."

"No, really I'm good."

"Alright, what is it? What's got you so down today?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Sam replies.

"No, see I know my baby brother. So I know that is your sad Sam face. Fess up, what's wrong?"

"I'm not-" Sam begins, but Dean gives him a look.

"I don't know. I'm just thinking about Cas, about Jack."

Dean's expression falls. He looks down and places the pie back in its spot. "Yea me too. I think about them too. Every day. But we have to move on, Sam. Live our lives. Or else that sacrifice, it will all be for nothing," Dean looks at Sam. "So help me finish this pie."

Dean reaches down for the same pie again but his face is met with a cold surface. Sam smothers the pumpkin pie in Dean's face, laughing. "You know what, I do feel better!"

Sam shakes his hand to free the whip cream, watching Dean rake the remainder of the pie off his chin with his fork. Suddenly, Sam's temples begin pulsing painfully and he has an immense sense of deja vu. His smile falters and he feels out of place. Almost, as if he's reliving this moment. It's similar to the feeling he had this morning.

"Hey, Sam. You okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He's not honestly sure if everything is okay.

Sam texts Eileen and tells her he wants to make up for the date they missed months ago. She agrees it has been too long and tonight would work for her. Sam doesn't want to make promises, as the day is still young, but they plan for their date tonight at 7. Dean teases Sam about it even though the two are already a couple. Saying things like, "don't do anything I wouldn't do" or "make sure you use protection." Sam just sighs and shakes his head.

It's 6:35 pm and nothing has come across the wire. Social media is quiet, so Sam texts Eileen that the date is a go. She replies five minutes later, ready to go and excited to see Sam. Dean offers to let Sam take the Impala out to pick Eileen up. For once in a long time, Sam is excited. When he reaches the garage door, Sam glances back at his brother and sees him nursing a brand new whiskey bottle. Sam frowns at the sight. Dean deserves to feel excited, to be happy. Sam will go on this date with Eileen, tell her about Cas, and they will come back to help Dean. Help Dean get his best friend back. Our best friend back .

Dean waves his brother off and slumps into the chair in the library. It's not very comfortable. In fact, the wooden back is digging into his thoracic spine and causing some pain. But it's better than the alternative. The alternative of thinking about what he's lost, who he's lost, and how he lost them. That pain will never go away. Right now I can focus on this acute pain and center my thoughts on it. Keep myself from sinking into the dark hole of nothing I've been trying to climb out of since I lost - since I lost

Dean finishes the whiskey bottle before Sam gets home and he's still not drunk enough. He rises from the chair and walks to the liquor cart. All the bottles are half empty or nothing but drops of whiskey, gathering at the bottom of the glass. He picks up one empty glass bottle and stares at it for several moments. His vision becomes distorted from the small glass textures, his left ear begins to ring from the silence as he falls into a trance like state. Then, a glint of sapphire reflects in the textured glass. It catches his eye; Dean swallows. Suddenly, he's thinking of Castiel. Cas. He's thinking of "I love you's" and "Goodbye, Dean" and black goo. He's thinking of how the image of his best friend disappearing into a black mass of nothing is seared in his memory forever. He's thinking of how he didn't get to say goodbye, or anything really, and now he never will.

He grimaces at the bottle, squeezes the neck so hard his knuckles blanche, and throws it across the room, into the kitchen. It lands by the island, shattering to pieces, with a deafening crash. Dean feels his eyes burning and hot tears gathering at the corners. Before he realizes, Dean is grabbing all the glass bottles and throwing them into the kitchen. In his fit of rage, Dean throws one bottle too high and it shatters against the side of the kitchen table. Glass spreads across the floor. He doesn't even register the intensity of the mess until one bottle knocks off another, shattering it at his feet. He stops throwing the bottles, breaking from his trance.

"I tried everything! I can't save you! There's nothing left! How could you do this to me, you son of a bitch," Dean cries. He places his hands on either side of his head, thinking. "Jack! How can you just leave us? We need you. Cas needs you! Fuck this all powerful, all knowing God bullshit. We're family!" Dean tosses the cart over. "Isn't that enough?" He pauses and glances around for a moment. Nothing. "Dammit, Jack. Why won't you answer my prayers? I need some help!" He cries out and slowly sits down. "I can't do this on my own," he whispers between his sniffles. He begs over and over again please please please in his head for a few moments. But he's met with silence like every other time. Dean accepts this and wipes his tears away, picks the cart up, grabs the broom and dustpan from the kitchen and picks up his mess. He can't have Sam see what a hypocrite he truly has become.

Dean cuts himself on a few lone pieces of glass, but it's nothing he can't handle. In fact, for a brief moment, the pain gives him something to focus on. He mindlessly watches the crimson slowly drain down the sink as he holds his palm under the running water. He wonders what it feels like to float down the water, through the pipes, through the darkness, into nothing. What is wrong with me? But that's where Cas is right now. A bunch of nothing. Dean grabs a hand towel and wraps it around his left hand before returning to the broom. The kitchen is just about clean. Within about 5 minutes, all the glass and spilled whiskey is gone. Almost as if it never happened. Dean places the broom and dustpan back in the corner and trudges through the hallways.

There is a secret stash of whiskey in his man cave that Dean hid for emergencies. And this constitutes an emergency. He walks to the wall, removes a Star Wars poster from the fifth movie, and pulls out a few bricks, revealing the beautiful brown bottle of Jack Daniel's. Not his favorite but Dean was in a rush when he bought it a couple of weeks ago before they defeated Chuck just in case anything went sideways. Also, in case Sam found his stash at least it wouldn't be his good whiskey. Popping the cap off, Dean takes a long swig as he stumbles toward the couch. Sam should be home soon. I'll be done with this bottle by then and be able to forget anything blue for a while. Except all he dreams of is blue.

Bright blue swirls fill his dreams as he drifts off. He feels immense warmth as the blue wraps around him like a large ribbon and he floats above the grass. The ribbon caresses Dean like a soft, silk cloud, holding him in place. A slight breeze causes the ribbon to ripple in harmony and alternate between hues of blue. The colors circulate between indigo to azure to cobalt to cerulean to teal and finally midnight blue effortlessly. Dean sees dark angels wings above and feels safe. He flies higher as the ribbon ascends toward the wings. Flashes of cerulean eyes skip by, sad and yearning, before Dean is pulled down into dark azure ocean water by the wings. The ribbon of blue dissolves into nothing. Dean feels alone. In dreams, people don't usually have their sense of smell, but Dean swears he smells hints of sandalwood, a campfire, and honey. Then, he sees Castiel materialize before him with his wings extended, long and wide. Beautiful. They're untouched with no sign of rebellion or impurities. Just as Dean had first seen them. Before he met me. Before he rebelled and lost everything for me. I cursed you, Cas. Green eyes lock with blue and Castiel smiles at Dean. Then suddenly, Castiel's wings begin to dissipate and burn away. He appears to scream in pain. Dean reaches out just as soon as the water darkens and swarms around Castiel. He thrashes against the thick water but cannot break free. Dean is frozen in the water and at once cannot breathe. He screams out to Castiel but no sound comes out. He, instead, inhales the water. Castiel disappears within the black, thick water just as soon as he appears. He's gone.

Dean's eyes slowly open. This is a recurring nightmare he's had since Castiel sacrificed himself. Since he left. Dean had hoped the alcohol would impair his subconscious enough to avoid the nightmare. Beer hasn't been strong enough, nor tequila, or vodka. Whiskey is his last resort and apparently it does jack-shit. I need something stronger, if I am to get any sleep. Although the whiskey does not keep the nightmares at bay it does keep him numb. That is enough to continue drinking. He reaches for the bottle and misses. I may be seeing double. After a few tries, Dean successfully retrieves the bottle and downs the remaining third of the whiskey. His head feels heavy and his chest feels hot. Dean can feel his fingers tingling and toes numbing against his socks. This is the sweet spot of feeling drunk, he thinks.

Sam returns from his date, unnoticed, and walks into the room, seeing Dean spread out on the couch. He eyes the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table and sighs. Sam remembers the other whiskey bottle left on the library table. The same one Dean had been nursing before Sam left. Dean is on a bender again. Eileen shuffles up next to Sam and glances at the couch. She looks at Sam with a sad look. At dinner, he filled her in with everything he knows about Castiel and his sacrifice for Dean. But Eileen didn't realize it would affect Dean this badly. She walks over to Dean and pulls the blanket from on top of the couch and covers Dean. He's passed out again and is slightly twitching. His eyes are racing back and forth.

"We will regroup tomorrow and discuss Plan SOC," Sam whispers while signing.

"I'm still not sure about the code word," Eileen signs with a grimace.

"We'll work on it," he signs with a shrug.

The next morning Dean wakes to his Jack Daniel's replaced with three ibuprofen pills and a glass of water. Grateful, he slowly takes them one at a time due to the agonizing headache. Usually he doesn't have headaches or hangovers but the nightmares don't give him much rest. He really isn't able to sleep off the alcohol. Pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes to push back the headache, Dean sighs with exhaustion. He doesn't even know what time it is. His watch reads 4:32 but Dean is unsure if it's AM or PM.

Suddenly, he feels his stomach growl and Dean realizes he hasn't eaten since about noon today. Yesterday? He sloppily rises up and makes his wake toward the kitchen. Nothing really sounds appetizing except for some string cheese. Only, they don't have string cheese. Of course. So, Dean settles for the two day old pepperoni pizza in the fridge. Not too bad, and he will never say no to pizza. Dean isn't sure how long he was passed out but the effects of the whiskey have certainly worn down a bit. He can't walk a straight line, but his vision is more clear. He clumsily carries the pizza box over to the library table next to his laptop and sits it down. Quietly, he pulls the chair out and takes a seat. The hunter in him wants to make sure everything is quiet out in the world. The clock on his laptop confirms its 4:38 AM.

A few clicks and searches show there's a local mysterious killing. Our kinda thing. Dean smiles, knowing that this case will help keep his mind busy. And he will be able to save someone. At least this way he will feel like his life was worth saving. Ironic. I feel like I've said that before. Why do people feel the need to jump at any chance to save me? I don't deserve saving. Dad sold his soul for me and now Cas. I don't deserve it. He shakes his head and munches down on cold pizza in silence.

Dean finishes the last three slices of pizza, underestimating how hungry he had been. He watches a few dumb YouTube videos for a while, to keep his mind off things, waiting for Sam to wake up. Dean is tempted to grab a beer from the fridge but decides against it. He needs to be as sober as possible for the hunt, for Sam. If Dean were to go alone, he would not care. Not at this moment anyway.

Dean has realized his mood swings are ridiculous lately. At one moment, he's super depressed and doesn't care about anything. He honestly doesn't care if he lives or dies.  The next moment he can't wait to see what life has to offer. It's as if his brain doesn't know how to comprehend what Castiel's sacrifice means to him. His thoughts can become so tangled and incoherent Dean doesn't know how to act - what to say. That's why he started writing down some of his thoughts, and then thought how much of girl that made him and crumpled the papers up. Right now, he can really use a moment to write down his thoughts.

He grabs the notepad and pen on the table and scribbles away. I hate this feeling. What am I supposed to feel? Anger? Sadness? Relief? Emptiness? Frustration? All of the above? Others? You left me with so many unanswered questions and I left you with nothing in return. How am I supposed to go on knowing this? Cas, how can I go minute to minute, hour to hour, knowing what I know now? I fucked up. I had a chance to say what I've been wanting to say for a while and I couldn't. I didn't. Did you even know? I mean do I even fucking know? I can't even hate you to make myself feel better. I can't bring myself to say I hate you for doing this to me. Because I could never hate you. The paper becomes wet with a few tear drops. I will find you, Cas. Just wait for me.

Dean places the pen next to the notepad after a moment. He wipes his nose with his flannel sleeve. Not many tears fell but his nose is running pretty good. Out of all of his thought entries, this one felt the most cathartic. He sometimes pretends that Castiel can hear him read the words to himself or even hear him as Dean writes the words. Just as Castiel heard his prayer in Purgatory. But he doesn't. He won't. The empty is a dark and torturous place. My prayer and words will be the last things he'd focus on.

Dean lays his head on the table from exhaustion, but doesn't shut his eyes. He won't risk falling asleep. Instead, he focuses on counting the books on each shelf to his right. Then, once he's done with those he counts the ones on his left. Dean notices some of these books, he nor Sam even use. He doesn't know half of the content in these books. Unfortunately, Dean underestimated how counting can cause drowsiness no matter the subject at play. His eyes begin to drift when Sam walks in with loud footsteps.

Yawning, Sam says, "What are you doing in here? You should be in bed."

Dean jerks up, shaking his head from thoughts of sleep. "I found us a case," he replies.

"Mhm. Is that all you were looking for during the early morning?" Sam asks, eyeing the covered notepad. Dean notices and quickly turns it over.

"Sam," he warns. "mind your business."

"Good morning," Eileen joins the boys in the library.

Dean isn't too surprised to see her here but is happy for Sam nonetheless. "Morning, Eileen. I hope sasquatch here didn't take up the whole bed."

Eileen blushes and laughs at Dean. "I don't kiss and tell," she winks at Sam as she kisses him on the cheek. "Who wants breakfast?"

"Yes, please!" Sam signs.

Sam joins Dean at the table and a long beat passes between them. Sounds in the kitchen of water running, the clinking of plates, and banging of pans fill the silence instead. Dean repositions himself in the chair, still not making eye contact with Sam. Sam, however, is studying Dean. He appears disheveled, bags under his eyes, day old stubble and crust around his lips from dried whiskey. He's a wreck.

"So this case-" "We need to talk-" They start simultaneously.

Dean glances up for the first time. "You first."

"I know about Cas." Dean's eyes widen slightly. "At least I know there's more to the story. You didn't tell me everything and I know whatever happened is eating away at you." Dean gestures to dismiss Sam. "Dean, I know you. I can see it. I know when you get like this it's because of something close to you." Sam pauses. "I also read some of your crumpled up papers." A dark look crosses Dean's face. Almost like he wants to punch Sam.

"You did what?" Dean says.

Sam continues, ignoring Dean's comment. "I know you're trying to bring Cas back. I want to help," Sam offers.

Dean sighs, looking to the side. He knows the many dead ends and how disappointing it is trying to save Cas. He doesn't want to subject his brother to the very same thing. "It's no use, Sam. Everything is a dead end. I've tried everything I can think of. Cas is gone," Dean resigns, defeated. "All we can do now is save people, hunt things, and live our lives. It's what Cas would want. It's what everyone, who we have lost, would want."

"Dean," Sam starts. "You're giving up way too easily. There is always another way. Don't you always say that?" Dean doesn't respond. "I know how it may seem hopeless but we have options. We have the resources to continue the search to save him. You can't give up now, Dean. This is Cas."

"I've tried everything I can think of, Sam. Everything! Praying, research, calling Rowena. She doesn't answer. Jack is off grid. I've tried! There's nothing. He's gone!" Dean's voice cracks. He swallows down the pain. "We have to accept that. And however I deal with it is my business. So don't give me those judgy eyes like you are now." Dean says pointedly.

"But, Dean-"

"I said no Sam."

Dean gets up, signaling he's done with this conversation and takes the notepad with him. He doesn't even acknowledge Eileen as she brings breakfast to the library. "The case is pulled up on my laptop. I'm going to get ready." Dean turns the corner and is gone before Sam can reply.

Eileen's face falls as she holds a plate of french toast, bacon, sausage, and lots of syrup. Then one plate of regular scrambled eggs with toast for Sam. She sits the plates on the table and watches Dean leave. "Is he not hungry? I made his favorite." She says.  

"It's not that, he's dealing with some, he's just-" Sam doesn't seem to know how to finish his sentence, or fully explain his brother's behavior.

"Cas?" Eileen offers. Sam nods.

Sam reads the case on Dean's laptop and begins to feel nauseated. He has a bad feeling. He, again, has a sense of deja vu. Two days in a row, it can't be a coincidence. It's like there is an itch at the back of his brain, crawling to the surface, wanting to show him something. He feels a headache come on and the pain is similar to when he used to get visions as a young adult. The pain grows stronger as the itch continues, pulling toward his frontal lobe.

Then, a flash of images of Sam and Dean dressed in their normal FBI threads quickly blink by. Another image of them at an abandoned barn fighting some strange, masked creatures. Sam recognizes the mask from Dad's journal. And then a burst of images, showing Sam and Dean fighting these creatures appear. They're vampires! The brothers are winning, slicing the vamp's heads off one after another. The last image shows Dean pushed against something sharp and… Oh no, Dean Sam thinks.

He grabs his head and shakes the images away. Groaning in pain, he sees he's on the floor. He must have fallen while the vision took over. Eileen is at his side, freaked out. She's signing, "Are you okay?" over and over again.

Slowly, Sam regains his thoughts and tells Eileen he's okay. Dean rushes by Sam's side by this point after hearing the loud thud from his fall. Dean places his hand on Sam's shoulder, in concern.

"Dude, what the hell happened? Say something. You alright?" Dean glances over Sam, and around the bunker, checking for any intruders.

"Yea, yea. I'm fine. I feel like I just got hit by a freight train. Like how my visions used to feel." He pauses. "I actually think I just had a vision." Sam looks at Dean with bewilderment and Dean returns the look.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say you had a vision?"

"Yea." Sam breathes.

"You haven't had one of those since you were like in your twenties and yellow eyes was after you. Why the fuck now?"

"I-I don't know. I thought it was a nightmare, but last night the same images played in my mind. I went all day yesterday feeling a sense of deja vu. The pie fest, reading the case, even eating breakfast."

All three are silent for quite a while. Their breakfast grows cold but no one pays it any mind. "What if it's a sign?" Eileen questions.

"Like from God, uh, Jack?" Sam offers.

Dean huffs in response. He knows damn good and well Jack is staying out of everyone's business. There isn't any possibility Jack is interfering. "I doubt it."

"It's possible," says Sam. "Maybe he has taken himself out of the narrative, but what if he's helping us still by guiding us through this vision?"

"He hasn't answered any of my damn prayers since two months ago. Why would he start now?"

"I don't know, change of heart?" Sam offers, half-heartedly.

Dean stands and laughs with a bitter shake of his head. "You honestly believe that? Come on, Sam. The kid has a new sense of almighty. We, you, me and Cas, we are now left in the dust. He said so himself. You're just having some freak migraine."

Sam stands, with Eileen in tow. She helps him up by the arm. "You're wrong. I know he's not like Chuck, and stays away, but he still cares. I know he sent me this vision to help us. All of us," Sam stares at Dean's glare of hopelessness. "I have faith, Dean."

"How can you be so sure? How can you be so positive that this is from Jack and he's trying to help us? Doesn't make a lot of sense that out of all the times I've asked for his help, to save Cas, or help me bring him back, he's now warning you of an ordinary hunt?" Dean says frustrated.

"Because in this hunt you die, Dean," Sam blurts out. Dean stays quiet. "You die and I have to go on without you. You leave me and I have to live a life without my brother."

Dean's gaze falls to the floor. He's quiet for a moment, processing this information. "You live a happy life?" He barely says.

"What?"

"After I die, do you go on having the whole white picket fence, apple pie life with the 2.5 kids?" Dean clarifies, calmly.

Sam searches Dean's face for any kind of sign of self actualization or will to live. "Why does it matter? I can still strive for that with you alive. We both can," he adds.

Dean smiles, that tired, sad smile. "No, Sammy. You and I both know as long as I'm alive you will always be in this life." He looks at Eileen. "You two will never have a chance at a happy, normal life with me around. Besides, hunting is what I do. There is nothing else for me. Not anymore.”

"That's not true," Eileen says, with tears in her eyes. She reaches out and places her hand on Dean's cheek, pleading for him to understand how wrong he is.

"It is. I'm the one that dragged you back into this life, Sam. I'm the only one keeping you here. Let me give you an out."

"Stop. Okay just stop. We are not going on this hunt. If you want to be suicidal, fine, but I'm keeping you out of danger. You are always so quick to jump in front of a gun or blade. Do you still care that little about yourself, Dean?" Sam searches his brother's eyes. "What about that job paperwork on your desk? You must have cared at some point. Wanted to live!" Dean is quiet. Sam sighs. "Cas wouldn't want you to die. He died to save you, remember? So, what I am going to do is bring Cas back. Are you going to help me?"

Dean ponders Sam's offer for a moment. "What about the people that will die, if we don't save them?"

"I'll call some hunters and give them a heads up on what to look out for when they go there. It'll be taken care of," Sam reassures.

Dean glances between Eileen and Sam. Fiddling with a loose string on the end of his flannel sleeve, he sighs. On one hand, he'd love to see Castiel again. He'd do anything- to hug him and tell him all the things he didn't get to say. But on the other hand, he's so tired. So very tired. There are no leads. And he's lost all faith in his search to save Castiel.

"Dean?" Sam starts.

"Okay. Let's bring Cas home."

[heybuddyitsmehai]

🎉Happy Birthday Honey🎉

I know I'm just one of many people who will be showering you with love today, but I really, truly, hope your day is amazing and I luh you very many lots all the time 💕

Bedtime Routine with Botanist!Ezra

Maybe the two of you have been scavenging the Green for flowers all day and now that the planet's suns have set, you're both more than ready for bed.

You follow him obediently back inside your tent, a bag full of pressed flowers slung over his shoulder and his journal tucked under your arm.

Ezra has been telling you a story about the last time he came face to face with a toydarian lizard as the pair of you hiked back to the tent in an effort to keep you from getting too sleepy, but now that you're both home, he lets his weariness get the better of him.

His shoulders slump as he steps through the canvas door and he lets out a deep sigh, slugging his pack and tool kit to the floor beside the cot. "I do believe I am spent, my love. The call of our cot is ringing in my ears louder than it normally does."

You nod in agreement, stifling a yawn, and begin to take off your suit, the extra weight of it much like the heavy exhaustion clouding your mind. Ez is quick to help you out of it, careful to avoid snagging your hair as he pulls the helmet up and off of your head.

“Tea, birdie?" He asks as he unzips the back of your suit, reaching out for your hand as you step out of it.

"Mmm, I can make it Ez. Lay down and rest your shoulder."

The prospector is keen, time and attentive afffection having made him well aware of your wiles. "Let me do this for you." He gently prods, the soft pads of his fingers trailing down your now exposed arms.

You exhale loudly and throw your head back. "Fine."

Ezra beams and leans forward to give you a tender kiss, his mouth soft and warm against yours. A smile spreads across his lips as he pulls away, dragging his fingers across the column of your outstretched neck and up to comb a wild sprig of hair behind your ear.

You lean against him and stretch back up for one more peck before Ezra squeezes you tightly.

He hums deep in his throat, warm and content and fulfilled with you in his arms. He lets you free, then moves over to the makeshift kitchen and begins preparing your tea. Your favorite mug is taken from it's home, the container of black tea, the smell blooming and proud as he opens it, is shaken and carefully prodded through.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, his selflessness reserved just for you. You begin getting ready for the evening and as you're brushing your teeth, Ezra sticks his head around the corner.

"Tea's ready, my love. It's next to your book stack."

You smile and nod a thank you through a mouth full of toothpaste.

Ez wiggles in beside the sink and next to you, foraging for his own toothbrush.

You muddle, your mouth slightly agape with foaming toothpaste, "We gotta clean my suit before we go back out tomorrow."

Ezra nods and squeezes toothpaste onto his toothbrush. "The swamps of the Green are harsh and unforgiving, I'm afraid."

You nod and wash out the last of your toothpaste, "At least we finally found your special flower though."  

The botanist quips before beginning to brush, "I've had my special flower all along." One of his dark eyebrows cocks upwards and a smile tugs at his lips.

Your cheeks beam at his words, but you roll your eyes to tease him. "Easy there, cowboy." Moving a hand along the ridges of his back, you teeter over and kiss his cheek, giving his bare shoulder a little squeeze before pulling away.

You hurry back to your cot and to the mug of tea steaming faithfully on the stack of books by your bedside.

You sip it happily as you wait for him and he joins you in bed soon after. He pulls you close to him and mumbles under his breath, "Night, sweet birdie."

Throwing back the last of your tea, you smile and nestle your face into his chest, "Night, Ez."

Teaching Din How to Bake

Sweet baby Din is so good at lots of things. Hunting, gathering, headbutting, being emo, etc but baking...is not one of those things.

He wants to do it, he really does, because he knows how much you love it and how happy it makes you.

But no matter what, somehow your birthday cake comes out either burnt or still doughy somehow.

He's been trying to practice in secret so he can surprise you on your birthday with the perfect cake, but it's been hard to keep the Crest from smelling like burnt food.

The night before your birthday, he's giving it all he's got, an aporn on over the beskar, flour on his thigh plate, the heat from the oven causing his helmet to fog up, him crouching in front of the glowing machine just staring into it.

The timer hasn't gone off yet but he thinks he can see the cake burning and he really doesn't want to burn it because it's the night before your birthday and he really doesn't want to give you a burnt cake but if he burns it where will he get a new one and when will he find the time to surprise you if he's spending that time fixing the cake and-

"Din?" You ask from the doorway, your hair frizzy and your eyes squinting. "What are you doing?" You chuckle.

He clears his throat and stands slowly, wiping his gloved hands on his apron. "I was, uh, I am-" he looks back down to the oven. "I think I'm burning your birthday cake."

You smile as you watch him pull the lump of batter from the oven. It's slanted and clearly not whisked together well enough, but you could tell he really wanted to do it himself. "It doesn't look that bad."

Din puts his hands on his hips and sighs, shifting his weight. "Yeah...it does."

You sigh and move to him, your brave and fearless bounty hunter who braved the wilds of the kitchen for you. You run your hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. "Thank you for trying."

Din stands awkwardly under your touch, clearly disappointed in himself and feeling a bit embarrassed. He sighs heavily, "I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise you."

You lean up to kiss the edge of his helmet. "I know. But now," You begin, reaching behind him to untie your apron he's wearing. "I can teach you."

"But it's your birth-"

"Din," You look up to the slat in his helmet to where his eyes would be. "I want to."

He let's out a sigh and nods, "Okay."

You take your apron off of him and put it on, Din there to tie it securely around your waist.

Din is a perfect student, listening and watching intently and trying not to be too helpless.

You can feel him tense when you put your hands over his, showing him exactly how to whisk the batter.

After the batter is made and the cake is in the oven, Din let's out a heavy sigh, brushing a hand through your hair. "Thank you."

Farmer's Market with Jack

For a summer day in July, the weather is not too bad and Jack is insistent on the two of you not waste it and go to the farmer's market.

"I'll make it fun, darlin', just do me this kindness."

You nod and beam up at him, a smear of flour on your cheek. "Anytime."

Looking up into his golden-flecked eyes, seeing the quirk of his smile and that one piece of hair that just won't stayed combed behind his ear, you can't help but to bend to his desires.

When you agree to it, he gives you a kiss on the cheek in recompense and hurries to shower and get ready for the day.

The market is full today, everyone else taking advantage of the nice weather as well, you assume.

Jack holds one of your hands in his and leads you forward through the stalls, "Anything catch your eye, clementine?"

You push yourself closer to him to avoid the hordes of people and not at all because you can see the outline of his bicep through the tight fabric of his shirt and can't stop yourself from needing to feel it.

The two of you stop at a booth selling squash and giggle at their funny shapes, Jack taking full advantage of the vegetable props to make you laugh even harder.

He loves seeing you like this; the stress of the day not yet pulling at your shoulders, the warm sunshine on your face and glinting off your dark hair, the ease of your time spent with him is suddenly surprising and helps him to realize just how much he loves you.

After buying a head of asparagus and a few huge sweet potatoes, he spots a booth selling flowers down the path and turns to you quickly, blocking your line of sight, "Will you do me a favor?"

A twinge of rouge rises in your face and you nod yes, batting your eyelashes dutifully up at him.

"Close those pretty blue eyes for me and stay right here, baby. I'll be right back." He requests and after you comply, he gives the bridge of your nose a quick kiss before you can hear his boots walking away.

Standing in a bustling farmers market with your eyes closed and tote bag in hand is not ideal and a little nerve wracking, but for Jack, you had to at least try.

He returns quickly and you can hear the smile in his tone when he says "Okay, open 'em."

When you do, you see that he has brought you a bushel of tulips; white and pink and yellow and red.

You're unsure how to respond and he can see it in your face. "You don't want them?" He asks, his eyes wide.

“No, no, Jack, I want them, I just-" There it is; that pesky heart rising in your throat. "I don't know what to say...Thank you."

He smirks at that, knowing it was a job well done, and pulls you into a hug, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "You know I'd do anything for you, don't you, pretty girl?"

You nod and let your eyes close. "Yes, Jack."

"Good." He ends, using his lips to press the word into the softness of your neck and squeezing your sides just a little bit tighter.

TAGLIST: you :)

[edgeofmyniall]

one: “break up with your girlfriend...i’m bored”

story page | thoughts | taglist | playlist

“I know it ain't right, but I don't care. Break up with your girlfriend, yeah, yeah, 'cause I'm bored”

Los Angeles- the city of angels. Or the city that feels the need to fit in as Ginger sees. She loves the big crowds of people walking, skating down the sidewalk, or taking pictures at the touristy spots. She didn’t mind the bumper to bumper traffic she fights almost every single weekday morning and evening; she has seen and met some interesting people on the freeway. She loves watching the wildflowers bloom through the cracks of the cement in front of her house. She isn’t meant to fit in with the co-inhabitants of Los Angeles. And she’s okay with that.

Ginger sticks out like a sore thumb- red hair, pale skin, and freckles to boot. She never blends in with the sea of blonde and brunette faces. She’s also loud, cheerful, and talks to complete strangers. She loves to laugh and will tell you that her main hobby is to learn about dinosaurs. Her parents swore she would become a teacher or a librarian, but when she was accepted into the University of California, Los Angeles for their business program, both Jack and Pennie knew that she was right where she belonged.

And it was no surprise when Stella and Ginger moved in together. Cousins, Stella and Ginger grew up more like sisters. With Stella’s dad constantly traveling and her mother not in the picture, Stella lived with her father’s brother and his family. Stella and Ginger shared a bedroom at the top of the stairs in the small farmhouse. Ginger and Stella were not afraid of the farm life; growing up they helped feed the animal, and eventually, Jack and Pennie gave the girls two horses for their own.

Stella let her southern accent fade away over time at college because no PR rep should have an accent, but Ginger...she clung to the articulation of her speech as if it was the only thing she had left of home. And Ginger sometimes felt like she was the only one with the country accent in LA, and she is okay with that.

The city of constant sunshine has turned into a dreary grey thunderstorm. Ginger looks out her office window and watches the passers-by scramble to find anything to cover them from the unexpected downpour. She likes to watch the lightning strike the ocean, but she’s too far into the city to see the roar of waves. She watches the raindrops race down her window to the pane before she returns to her work. 

It is the sudden knock on her office door that pulls Ginger out of her trance of numbers and calculations. It’s one of her favorite co-workers- Sheila from downstairs. Gingers smile toothily as Sheila, the aging woman, slides a chocolate donut across Ginger’s desk. “Stole this before Rex got to ‘em. Figured you wanted one.” Sheila winks at her friend before biting into her glazed treat. 

“This...is why...you’re my favorite,” Ginger says in between bites. She covers her mouth, but the frosted glaze still sticks to her lips. Ginger and Sheila eat their afternoon snack in silence. This is a ritual for both of them. A break for the steady course of the day; a gasp of fresh air for both of them. Sheila doesn’t say much as she leans on the doorway, and Ginger is glad to be in a room with someone besides herself. 

Ginger is a people person; moreover, a people-pleaser. She likes to make people happy. She has a knack of knowing when someone needs her to talk with and when she needs to be there in silence. She radiates positivity to her family, friends, and co-workers. She needs to remain happy for the sake that if she gets too into her head, she retreats. She becomes quiet and loses herself in her head. She remembers her heartbreaking and everything she’s stuffed into a bottle comes blowing out.

“You ready for the meeting next week? I haven’t even thought of my idea.” Sheila breaks the silence as she wipes her hands on her napkin. She sits down in the chair in front of Ginger’s desk. It’s lined with framed pictures and Polaroids of those closest to her. “I mean, how can we improve clientele if all we do is come up with new ideas every day?” 

“If I knew that becoming a marketing manager meant I had to come up with not one, but two new grand ideas, I would have become a house sitter. Telecommunications, Inc.: Where two ideas are better than one,” Ginger forms an imaginary rainbow with her hands as she laughs sarcastically with her co-worker. 

“How’s that new Capital file coming, anyway? You were so excited to get the job, you about cried,” Sheila picks the lint off her pants. For her, small talk is heaven when it’s with Ginger because she’s the one who's doing most of the talking. And Sheila likes that about her friend. She lives through Ginger and her stories. But what she’s reminded of when she comes to Ginger’s office for their daily break is that her own children don’t talk to her as much as her co-worker does.

“Yeah, well that was before I knew how much they spent on stupid shit like a virtual reality system that they used for like, a day! For promo!” Ginger’s eyes grow as her voice begins to get louder. “I mean, I know Ariana is great and all, but they gotta stop spending their money on stuff that doesn’t matter. I’ve sent the CEO an email-”

“Not the CEO,” Sheila gasps theatrically, biting into Ginger’s storytelling. It makes the middle-aged woman feel young again when she talks to Ginger- the only person who doesn’t fake their perkiness.

“Yes, the CEO. And he has me running numbers for a new promotional scheme. Hopefully, he likes it,” Ginger thumbs through the papers she’s organized and pulls out a spreadsheet to show to Sheila. “A couple thousand dollars on billboards is good, ya know, people driving will see it, but no one listens to the radio anymore. It’s all on their phones.” 

“You’d be surprised. Tell your cousin I said hi,” Sheila winks before getting up and leaving Ginger’s office. It’s finally quiet and Ginger shuffles her papers back in order. The phone rings and Ginger’s eyes go wide as she reads the caller ID: her boss. Their break is over. 

~~~~~

“Stella? You home?” Ginger lays her keys onto the kitchen counter as she calls out to her cousin. She shares a house with her best friend and Cousin, Stella. Ginger hears the music blaring from Stella’s room upstairs. Stella has either had a bad day or her and her boyfriend were having sex. Ginger knows best to let her be alone for a while so she decides to start their dinner for the night and call up her mother. 

“Yes, mom. Stella’s fine. Yes, they’re still together. No, I haven’t. The guys out here,” Ginger waves in the air with her free hand, “they’re terrible. I mean just horrible. Self-absorbed. Yeah well, Stella got lucky. It’s not every day you meet a celeb AND they actually like you.” The music stops and a door opens upstairs. Ginger smiles as she hears her cousin’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. “Oh by the way,” Ginger pauses dramatically as she plans for the big reveal. “I got promoted.” Screams of joy come from both her phone and from behind her. Stella stands in the kitchen with her hair in a messy bun and only a t-shirt and shorts as she squeals. “Holy shit! You did it! Oh sorry, Aunt Pen.” Stella wraps her arms around her cousin. While Ginger and Stella share a lot of similarities, their physiques are not what they share. Stella is small: short, tiny waist, and her voice on a normal day is barely above the pitch of a small cat. The only way Stella got the job as a public relations person, Ginger once came to the conclusion of, was her bigger-than-life personality. The brown mop of a bun waves at Ginger as she lets go of her hug. Stella grins ear to ear as she giddily jumps. “That’s so great! You deserve it, doesn’t she, Aunt Pen?” Stella calls out to her aunt over the speakerphone. 

“Yes, yes, yes she does,” Pennie’s tears cannot be seen, but they are heard. “Oh Stella, dear, your father keeps calling us to see if we’ve heard from you. I’m to give you the message to call him ASAP.” Pennie quickly relays the message before Stella rolls her eyes and promises to call her uncle’s brother. “We’re going out for drinks tonight! To celebrate the joyness of life!” Stella points to the ceiling before taking off upstairs. 

“Guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow then. Love you, Mom. Give Daddy my love.” Ginger tells her mother goodbye before finishing up the dinner she had previously started. She guesses she’ll be eating this for lunch. 

~~~

Within the hour and a half that it took to get both Stella and Ginger ready, Stella already began to compose a plan to include their friends in the celebration. They had planned to meet at their usual place before heading out to the bars: Preux and Proper. The restaurant itself was a gimmick of New Orleans where Ginger had visited once when she was on spring break in college.

By the time the girls arrived, everyone was there. A long table had been prepared for the twenty or so people at the table. All of them were familiar to Ginger and Stella, but only one who stood up to greet them as they walked to the table: Stella’s boyfriend.

“There are me two girls! Was just talkin’ about ya,'' Niall wrapped his arms around Stella’s hourglass waist and pulled her in for a small but deep kiss. “Missed you today.” Stella looked up to Niall and let out a small giggle before going around the table to give her usual hugs.

“And you! Gin, congrats,” Niall pulled Ginger in for a massive bear hug. Her throat was closing up and a knot in her stomach began to bounce around. As she enveloped her arms around Niall’s back, she breathed in his scent: spearmint soap with a little musk hinting about. She sees Niall as an older brother more than her cousin’s boyfriend, but she doesn’t deny the fact that he’s handsome and some nights she dreams about him.

“Thank you, Nialler.” Ginger lets go of her embrace, but for a moment, she thinks he’s holding on a little too long for this to appropriate. “You look spiffy.” 

Niall, in his floral white shirt and navy blue dress pants, stands with his arms on his hips and poses. “It isn’t every day you get promoted, Gin. You look...nice.” Niall’s pause caught Ginger off guard. It was like he tried to choose his words, but it still came out all wrong. She looks down at her leopard shirt, ripped jeans, and black heels as if she forgot what she was wearing. 

“Oh, thanks.” She smiled awkwardly. It’s around Niall that she doesn’t know what to do or say. 

“Here come sit by me,” Niall holds his hand out above the empty chair next to him. 

“Wouldn’t you want Stella to…” Before Ginger could finish her question, her cousin had sat down next to her best friend, Emma, which was still straight across from Niall. Ginger takes her seat and begins to look at the menu, trying to avoid any more interaction from Niall. 

“Whadya gettin’? The usual?” Niall chuckles at his teasing, only making Ginger pull the menu closer to her face to hide her smile.

She had failed.

~~~~

“Gin? You alright?” the whisper of Niall pulls Ginger out of her trance- empty thoughts and dissociation from the group. She feels swallowed whole at the moment. She’s usually fully involved in the conversation, practically taking over it, but tonight, she’s alone- an outcast in the world inside her head despite the celebration of her accomplishment. She faces Niall and smiles gently. Her heart is in her throat when she comes to the realization that his thumb is on her bare kneecap and she can feel the summer heat of his palm through her ripped jeans. 

“Yeah. Sometimes I live in my head. I’m okay. Where were we?” Ginger looks down at her half-eaten plate- bacon cheeseburger and onion rings. The staple meal of Ginger.

“Let’s start with dinner, yeah?” The Irish accent has grown thicker under the influence of Guinness. Ginger looks back at Niall and she feels slightly uncomfortable at how close Niall’s face was to hers. “Stella is tellin’ us about you two got banned from the rec field for life.” He smiled eagerly; his eyes crinkle and the last rays of the setting sunshine in his blue eyes. Ginger looks at her cousin and realizes that Stella could care less how close both her cousin and boyfriend are. 

“But I do need to talk to ya when you get a chance.” Niall locks eyes with Ginger. Eyes dilated, he looks drunker than he really is. His words slur slightly, but he’s more buzzed than anything. Could it be from their simple embrace? It couldn’t be. “It’s about Stel.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Ginger’s voice cuts through the tension between the two of them. May it be the tequila or the forbidden wanting, Ginger blushes after Niall winks at her. He ruffles Ginger’s red curly locks before laughing at the punchline of Stella’s joke, going back to his place at the table. Ginger was the punchline of her cousin’s jokes- she always was.

~~~

By the time the checks come around, Ginger is feeling heavy. She can barely keep her head up and her arm is feeling like lead. Voices dance around her as she shuts her eyes tight trying to make the outside upper terrace stop spinning. Maybe it’s from the many times that Niall’s hand faintly touched her skin or the fact that she had a few margaritas in her system- the one thing Ginger wanted to do was go home and sleep. 

“Yeah, as I was sayin’, Stel babe, I’m buying Ginger’s dinner, and yours.” Niall’s voice echoes through Ginger’s skull, pounding her brain. She can’t seem to open her mouth to argue that she was perfectly fine with paying her own bill.

“It was my idea; I’m paying,” Stella says defensively. “She’s my cousin.” Stella squints her eyes despite the night has rolled in.

“And she’s me friend,” Niall’s thick accent rolls off his tongue like a sinner confessing. When the waiter comes back with cards and receipts, Niall smiles deviously. “Don’t know why you’re arguing with me anyways, it’s already done.” Niall signs the paper and stands. “Where to next?” 

“40Love?” Mully asks. “I know the owner.” A loud boom of laughter overtakes the terrace, and Ginger finally feels the after-effects of the day beginning to wear on her. 

“I’m going home because unlike you all I have a real job” The group laughs at Ginger’s joke before she stands and sways. The floor is spinning underneath her and she has an overwhelming sensation to giggle. Stella stands and hands Ginger her water, but Niall steadies his friend. “I have to… I have to…” Ginger can’t form the words, but she can picture what she wants to do in her mind: get under her sheets and bring out her vibrating friend while she thinks of the Irish devil that has his hands on her.

“How many drinks did she have?” Emma asks; her face scrunches at the sight of Ginger trying to catch herself. Ginger takes mental note to flick off Emma, but she can’t decide which one to do so.

“Three? I think?” Someone else answering Emma’s question. “You know she can’t hold her ‘hol.” The uncalled-for comment pairing with a thicker accent could only mean one thing: snot-nosed Deo. 

“She can’t walk by herself,” Stella says when she finally reaches her cousin. “And I need to go with Sean. There’s a client…and-” 

“Go,” Niall cuts off his girlfriend. He shifts Ginger’s arm around the nape of his neck and pushes the wild red curly hair out of her face. Ginger inhales the masculine scent of deodorant. “I’ll take her home. Meet you there?” Niall’s voice seems a little aggravated, Ginger thinks. She’s probably ruining his plans. Good, he’s ruined her life with his stupid niceness and his stupid handsomeness and his stupid laughter.

Niall starts to turn away to make his way down the stairs before Stella calls out to him.

“Be careful. See ya in a bit.” Stella leans up to kiss Niall, and now that she’s in close proximity of the two, she notices Niall doesn’t pucker his lips out all of the sudden but does so after a moment of hesitation. “Love you.”

It was when they were descending down the stairs inside the restaurant that Ginger begins to laugh at herself before making the comment: “You didn’t say it back, asshole.”

~~~~

It seems like forever to get back to the house, but Ginger is glad to see her small yellow home at last. She likes that color: it reminds her of sunshine and happiness. Ginger makes a note to pull the weeds out from her small flower garden, but it’s highly unlikely she’ll remember in the morning. Niall helps her out of his car and walks her up to the front door. “Why didn’t you kiss her?” Ginger asks as she stands against the white post of the small front porch. Niall’s eyes go wide as he fumbles the car keys in his calloused hands.

“What?”

“Why...didn’t...you...kiss...Stella?” Ginger slows down her words as she rolls her eyes. Oh, God, that makes the queasiness worse.

“I did?” Niall’s brow quirks and he doesn’t understand Ginger’s question. “You saw it.”

“No...you hesitated. You waited. You didn’t kiss her.” The lump in Ginger’s throat is back and it’s sobering up the loose thoughts of the alcohol. “Why?” Niall swallows hard before unlocking the white door, pushing it open. He looks at Ginger with a lost stare and his lips form a thin line. She notices his chest fall quickly before his nervous habit of picking his nails begins. Despite Niall dating her cousin, Ginger is fairly close to him. They get along well, and she’s the reason Stella and Niall met. Niall considers Ginger to be one of his best mates. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I was...um,” he clears his throat, and the longer he avoids the question, the quicker Ginger sobers up. “I was thinking about kissing someone else.” 

“Who?” Ginger squints hard to keep Niall in one place that her eyes nearly close. Her heart is in her mouth and she’s afraid of his answer. “Is that why you wanted to talk to me about Stella?” Niall nods before shuffling his feet. In a moment of vulnerability, Niall's confidence quakes. 

“I don’t feel like being with her anymore. I’m just some status and good sex to her. There’s no emotional connection for me anymore.” Niall’s words hit Ginger like an aftershock. Her heart is knocking against its cavity. “I wanna be with someone else.”

“Have you thought about talking to her?” Ginger looks at Niall’s hair, avoiding his eyes. It’s now, more than ever, that she wants to run her hands through his soft brown tendrils.

Niall holds back a laugh, “Yeah good one. That’ll go nowhere. It’s either we argue or we fuck. Absolutely no substance to our relationship” He holds up his hands and air quotes the final word.

“Then break up with her. If you’re not happy, go be happy with someone else.” Ginger’s words are sincere and soothe Niall, but there’s a hint of anger in them. Ginger doesn’t want to be a part of this. She wants to be left out. She doesn’t want to ruin her cousin’s happiness...or Niall’s.

“Then I wouldn’t see you.”

“Yes, you will.” But those words that were spilled out hit the floor and bounced right into Ginger’s stomach. They hovered over her making her feel heavier than before. She felt her mouth become dry and her mind started to race. She couldn’t do this. Not with Niall. Not with anyone. Ginger shook herself out of her mind and realized Niall, watching her, is waiting for an answer. She swallowed and walked past Niall, closing the door in his face. 

There was his answer.

~~~~

taglist:  @oyesmendes​ @kare38 @stayclose-holdsteady @thicksniall

[offspring-of-calliope]

Peculiar (Newsies Fanfiction) - Chapter 2

Description: Jack just wanted to have a normal conversation but Race, Albert and Finch are impossible.

words: 2041

Warning: slight period-typical homophobia (it's not explicitly stated but it's implied)

A/N: I still got no real plan for this, like there is no actual plot in my head yet but little snippets of action/moments. So, we'll see how this'll work out. Anyway, I decided to include more sidecouples, so you'll be seeing established Blush and also Redfinch but I'm not sure how slow the burn will be. Thanks for the likes on the last chapter.

I hope you enjoy and maybe leave a comment when you do,

Lélodie

-----

The back rooms of the theatre were filled with loud noises when Jack entered them. Some of the younger Newsies, who weren't too exhausted from selling papers all day, were running around, trying to chase each other. In one corner, Jack could spot Jojo, who was trying to teach Romeo and Elmer how to sew. It took him a while to recognize Race, Finch and Albert at one of the tables, playing some kind of card game. Since he couldn't see Crutchie anywhere, he supposed that he was already up on the rooftop – their usual sleeping spot – and decided to approach the card game table.

Race was the first one to notice him. “Aye, Cowboy! What happened to yer shirt?” With a teasing grin, he offered him a free chair at the table.

“An' while we's at it, what happened to yer arms?” Finch added, a concerned look on his face, while Jack was sitting down.

Confused, Jack checked his arms. Up until this moment, he hadn't even noticed the bruises which scattered them. Right in the places where he had blocked Bulky Guy's blows. He sighed. These were going to be a pain in the ass while sleeping. “Oh, that's nothing. Some fancy snob was jealous of my shirt, so he splashed it with muddy water an' another guy was tryna soak me for tryin' ta clean the rest of my body.”

The concerned look didn't leave Finch's face and he put down his cards to inspect Jack's bruises. “Ya didn't... ya know, use your powers, did ya?”

Jack wasn't exactly sure, why, but he felt guilty all of a sudden. “Yeah, I did. But in an alleyway which was all dark 'n' scary so I think, maybe that guy's been after me for longer.”

“I bet ya hit him good, too, right? I's tryna imagine his face when he realised he can't win a fight against the great Jack Kelly,” Albert said, not nearly as worried as Finch. Race looked as if he was more interested in the fight than the circumstances as well.

Finch just shook his head at Albert and Race, took his cards again and decided to stay silent. The three of them continued their game.

“Of course I's delivered him a pretty good fight,” Jack claimed, smirking. “But I have to admit, I was gonna loose. The guy was, like, really big. And then, there was this boy that jus'... He told the guy ta let me go an' he did. No kidding, I think this boy might be a charmspeaker.”

Everyone at the table glanced at him in disbelief. Eventually, Albert said, “Jack... You can't jus' accuse any person who did somethin' of bein' like us.”

“I don' 'accuse' him, first off,” Jack started but Race interrupted him.

“Yes, ya do. You do this every time. You's jus' tryin' to be a hero again – findin' a little Peculiar who ya can talk into joinin' the Newsies and comin' to Medda's.”

“Well, I wasn't wrong the last time,” Jack replied, referring to the time he invited Sniper to join them. “An' it's not like I's doing it on purpose. I just want them to be safe, ya know?”

“An' there ain't nothin' wrong with that, Jackie-Boy. But ya can't jus' walk around an' force your opinion on these people,” Race insisted. “Besides, why d'ya think that this boy that helped you has powers? Maybe he just knew the guy or somethin'.”

Jack didn't even get the chance to respond because in this moment, Finch groaned loudly. “Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me. I's lost again. Albie, don't leave me hangin', you gotta win now.”

Puzzled, Jack glanced at the cards and then at his friends. “I guess the fate's on Race's side today?” Race's power was... an interesting one, he thought. Every time he put effort into something, the universe seemed to flip a coin. Either, the thing Race was doing would go terribly wrong or turn out to become perfect. Due to the possibility of doing everything wrong, Race often considered these powers as a burden. But when he had a good run, he was on top of the world.

“Don't even ask,” Albert said, taking a look at his own cards and groaning as well.

“An' I guess that's not a good thing for you guys because you, like bet or somethin'?”

Race grimaced but suddenly, Albert was grinning. “If Team Telebrothers wins against Race, he has to tell us who's his new sweetheart.” Finch cringed at the word 'Telebrothers'. It was a word that Elmer had invented once because both Finch's and Albert's powers started with the syllable 'tele'. Albert knew how much Finch hated this invented word so he used it as often as he could.

“Oh, shut up, Al. It's not even as if I'd have a chance, even without the powers.”

Jack flashed Race a disbelieving look. “What do's yer powers have ta do with that?”

“Everything!” Race retorted and draped himself dramatically over the back of his chair. “Don't ya remember what happened when Al an' I was still a thing? It was like my powers did everythin' ta end this whole thing – which they's did in the end. It's not gonna work as long as a part of myself's makin' somethin' serious impossible.”

Jack considered this for a moment. Then, he mused, “Well, maybe Albert jus' wasn't the right one for ya.”

“Thanks, pal, that ya think it's my fault that we ain't havin' our relationship any more,” Albert said, looking comically devastated.

“Right, I mean, it was so romantic, bein' teleported by yer fella every time ya two were gonna get ta some touchy stuff,” Race responded with an affectionate eye roll and adjusted his position on his chair.

“There was a damn ceiling fallin' down on us 'cause of yer powers! Yeah, 'cause that's been so sweet of ya, Racer.”

“Me's always as sweet as honey, darlin'.” Race winked and blew Albert a kiss.

“Ya'll ready now?” Suddenly, Finch was talking and Jack couldn't help but notice how he snapped a bit during his question. He knew it wasn't fair of him but he sometimes wondered if Finch was a bit homophobic. It wouldn't be that big of a surprise, considering the general view on same-sex-relationships, but Finch was usually such a nice guy that Jack couldn't fathom him invalidating others.

He remembered the time when relationships between two boy newsies were something scary and new to everyone. Stolen kisses in dark alleyways, two hands holding each other when nobody was watching. The first one who had openly addressed the topic had been Kid Blink. There had been something going on between him and Mush for a really long time until he, all of a sudden, had raised his voice when every newsie had been hanging around in the theatre.

“Listen everybody,” he had said. “I'mma say somethin' and I's only gonna say it once. Don't think for one moment that I's not able ta notice the stares and the whispers every time me an' Mush are getting' close. I know that some of you's only curious but for those who's judgin' us 'cause they's ashamed of knowin' some queers: Every newsie who's livin' under this roof is part of a big family. Most of us didn't get ta know a life in a normal, caring family but in our family, there's gotta be only love an' respect. Ain't nobody's makin' fun of Jack sproutin' water out of nowhere or Finch movin' things around with his mind. Ain't nobody's rattin' out the Peculiars among us. It's the same with the queers. We's different but we jus' wanna live our lives like everyone else does. So if anybody has a problem with that – there's the door. Ya can either pull the stick outta your ass or loose the greatest family there is.” Silence. Nobody had even dared to move a muscle, let alone interrupt Kid Blink. That guy could be really intimidating if he wanted to. “Thanks for yer attenton. I'mma go kiss my fella now.”

After that, many others had openly admitted being queer, for example Race and Albert. Jack himself had also said that he could imagine being with a guy. Romeo flirted with anything that moved anyway. Then, there were many, many others, even some who just wanted to try and see. But there were also some, not many but still, that left that day. Some of them, they saw never again. A shudder went down Jack's spine and he dismissed the memory. This was slowly turning into a direction too painful to think of.

“So, what's you gonna do about that 'Peculiar' of yours?” Finch asked Jack.

Jack hesitated for a moment. “I'm gonna find him tomorrow. And then, I'm gonna prove ta you that he really is special.”

“Uh, looks like our Jackie-Boy here has got the hots for his saviour,” Race teased, shoving Jack slightly against the shoulder.

Jack sighed. “Oh my, why do I even put up with ya guys?”

“Come on, Jack. Ya know ya love us,” Albert said, laughing. “But Race, you shouldn't be the one to talk, you's not better than him.”

“Maybe. But still, you's never gonna know who I's been talkin' about all mornin', noon and evenin'.” With a triumphant smile, Race played his card. “I won.”

“I hate everything,” Albert said, while Finch was banging his head against the table with a soft: “Who's even surprised?”

Jack decided that it was better to let Albert and Finch suffer in silence, so he bid them goodbye and went to search for something to eat before going up to the roof. Maybe Crutchie would support him.

[queensdivas]

Wildest Notes Chapter 4

So there’s about three reasons why this chapter took a little long to come out! But they’re good reasons of course because I like to make sure things are somewhat perfect! 

First! Mostly because I’ve been busy with Grigor and trying to work on such a historical fic and y’all know I throw myself into my fics. 

Second. I got in touch with a certain bad ass artist by the name of @punky-peach​ who drew that beautiful picture below for Cora and Gard. Oh yes. It’s absolutely beautiful and I might have cried when I received it ten minutes ago. It’s so fantastic that I just can’t stop looking at it and I know y’all can’t either! Especially after this chapter.  

Third. I got distracted. And I got into bioshock for a while (I’m still binge playing it over and over. But fear not! I’m back and 

Okay here we go! 

Y’all ready!!

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter. 

Masterlist 

My fingers softly began rubbing my eyes as we finished the last set of the night. Sometimes I forget that playing the piano day after day would hurt my eyes. I hate that sometimes I forget that I’m near sighted. Should probably take a day off because I’ve been doing this nonstop since I moved here. Luckily I’m not clumsy with them and have never broken a pair in my life! Which is saying something about myself. 

Closing the lid to the piano as the club was beginning to clear out of everyone excluding the waitresses, bar tenders, and us musicians. I began gathering all my music sheets together as I watched everyone go into their own little social pods. Not that I don’t wanna become social with any other them. But a first impression of them flocking towards me in all directions to screw me wasn’t exactly a warm welcome. 

Once my music was all put together. I knocked off my heels to switch over to my Jesus slippers so I could walk home comfortable. Do you think I walk from my house to the city in heels? I don’t even like being in some sort of heels in the first place. My preference is my Jesus slippers or my bare feet. I mostly garden in my bare feet so it’s safe to say that I really hate shoes. 

Kobi the bassest and Chandler who played first chair trombone approached me as I placed my feet into my Jesus sandals. Kobi was rubbing the back of his neck as I waited for them to speak to me because obviously he was going to say something. 

“Chandler and I were wanting to apologize for what happened when you first arrived here. Kind of got us all excited for a new member and we acted like wild dogs. I’m sorry.” Wait what? An apology? Kobi smacked Chandler's chest as he shot up from the ground. 

“Yes Cora. We’re sorry..” 

“It’s quite alright. Thank you for the apology.” 

“Listen why not have a drink with us?” Chandler offered as I took a step off the stage with all my belongings. 

“I don’t drink.”

“Then water. C’mon you have to socialize with us eventually and running off back to your house isn’t an option.” Kobi mentioned that both of them walked over to the bar along with the workers and other musicians. I mean a sprite does sound delicious and I could use the energy walking home. 

I sat down on the bar stool as the tender was mixing all sorts of drinks for everyone. He stood in front of me and waited for me to give him some sort of answer. I get the feeling their eyes are shooting bullets at me for not drinking liquor. Look I know being a jazz musician you’re supposed to smoke and have a thing of Jack Daniels by your stand in order to fit the profile. But I’d rather have a really bubbly sprite and some grapes and we’re sitting. 

“Just a sprite please.” I told him as he filled a tiny little glass of sprite for me. 

“You work at a nightclub and you drink a sprite?” Chandler commented as I took a sip. 

“I told you two I don’t drink.” It’s like talking to a brick wall. Like I said I will not socialize with these people and just come to work. 

“Heys guys great news!” Theo jumped down from the stage and sashed himself over towards us. 

“We got ourselves a new lead female singer by the name of Kyia Mair. Just graduated from Oberlin Conservatory of Music in Ohio. She said she was looking for a full time gig and bam! We got one!” HE clapped as he sat down on one of the stools. 

“A round for everyone! Make it an Irish car bomb for everyone!” Theo pulled out his cash as everyone cheered as for free alcohol...for me I was slowly sipping sprite from my glass. I should’ve mentioned that I could’ve also sang..though it’s not excellent like Gaga or even Billie Holiday. But it’s decent. 

The bartender placed the shot in front of me as my sipping through the straw began to go faster as I was trying to avoid the car bomb or whatever it was called in front of me. No..no I don’t drink. Drinking leads to drugs...drugs lead..lead...

“A shot isn’t going to kill you Cora. You gotta live a little.” Theo moved the shot in front of me as I kept sucking up more and more sprite till the glass was empty. My throat closed as I looked away from the shot. Time for me to head home and read some sort of book. Digging into my purse then my wallet to find some sort of cash. 

“Tell ya what. Here’s twenty dollars on me for whatever you want and you guys never speak to me again that isn’t business related. Now if you’ll excuse me I’d like to go home. Goodnight everyone.” Telling them as they slapped the money on the bar and began my walk home. 

Wrapping my arms around myself to place my binger down onto the ground to feel the warmth of the night rest on top of me. Taking in a deep breath as I dove into the inner layers of my confused train wreck of a mind. It felt like I was pushing the door shut of my past self trying to keep those memories shut. 

Think of something nice Cora c’mon! 

“I’m..I’m sorry. I.. I generally don’t hang out with civilians this much.” Civilians? DO I look like I’m in the army? Do I need to salute him or something? 

Why is it that this tightly wound mailman by the name of Gardner is prancing around in my mind? Is this what a crush feels like? Heck I’ve never had my first kiss in my life with anyone! I’ve lived quite the solitude life for obvious reasons..and no one has ever had that kind of talk with me. 

Stopping along the river as my upper body leaned over the railing. Surprisingly a warm gust of wind entwined itself around me as I just stared down into the dark water. The lights from the city began dancing upon the top of the river. 

Mama Seymour wasn’t into the relationships because she was always busy with myself and my brothers and sisters. Mr. Lister..er Dad..may he rest in peace. He was just there for me in the end and never got around to this conversation. So I’ve got no idea what on earth I’m doing. Normally my ass would be running from this situation and just diving into a different situation. But..

I..I wanna dive..

This whack uptight mailman…

“Gard? What are you going?”

“I’m sorry. I heard you playing and I wanted to stay till the end.” 

Someone tell me how the heck this is supposed to work? No mailman would just casually stay and let himself come inside the house. Not to mention he let me dry his socks after walking around in the rain. It’s not love...it’s just my heart rapidly beating out of my ribbed cages and spewing out all over the sidewalk!  My right hand rested over my heart as I stood up standing tall.

Just keep calm..if you see him tomorrow just be nice and not do anything.. 

Walking back to the house to see that Angus was sitting in front of the front door sleeping soundly as I stood in front of the gate. Opening the gate woke him up and trot his way over to me. Sniffing my feet, licking my palm, and then walking back towards the door. For some unknown reason Angus loves to sit outside or sleep when I’m gone for work. 

Sitting down on the porch steps as Angus sat up next to me then began licking my face, yet stopping when he had some of my makeup in his mouth. My nails softly scratched the top of his head as he laid back down next to me with his head resting on my thigh. Time to let my hair down, literally. Pulling apart the large black bow I had in my hair that was keeping at least some of it up to let my grande cluster mess known as my hair. 

“C’mon Angus. Time for bed.” Kissing his forehead as we both got off the ground to walk inside and get ready for bed.  

*Gards P.O.V.*

Wasn’t supposed to be 90 degrees today. Stupid weather! Looking up to place the mail in the box I noticed that I was right around the corner from Cora. I imagine she’s out in her garden planting or digging until it gets too hot. 

Turning the corner then down the hill as I kept my eyes on what I could see but sadly trees we’re covering my view. Just keep going..wait. What should I say to her? Hey? Is it hot outside or what? Too cheesy? I’ll just be quiet, drop off her mail then moving on. 

Is..is that Margaritaville? I don’t know much about music but I know Margaritaville whenever I hear it. I remember Dad and I would be on the boat washing it down and whenever this song would turn on, he would just go berserk. Cause ya know, it’s a Dad song.  

“Wastin' away again in Margaritaville..Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt..Some people claim that there's a woman to blame..Now I think, hell, it could be my fault..” I could hear her singing as I got closer to the gate. 

When I made it to her white gate. My head looked up. I saw that she was sitting in the front yard sitting in a beach chair. Her feet were in a kids plastic pool as Angus came around the corner to then step into the kids pool and watch me. 

“GARD!” Cora cheered as she stood up to then stand in her pool. Opening the gate as I approached her as she kept herself in the pool. 

“Want a drink? It’s kool aid.” She held out her glass as I shook my head. 

“How’s the route on this stupidly hot day?” I shrugged as she offered me her seat. I sat down as she went around back to probably grab another chair. Placing my mail bag next to my chair as I watched Angus in the pool. He’s literally just laying down in the water with only his head laying on the rim.  Coming back as she had one of those really colorful beach chairs. Opening it up then sticking her feet back into the pool as Angus was laying down in it. 

“Gard relax for a little bit. It’s 90 degrees and there’s no way you’re not boiling alive.” Fair enough. 

“While you get comfy. I think I got some sunglasses for ya.” Getting up again to go into her house. I took off my shoes then socks to stick my feet into the ice cold pool. I let out a very large sigh as my entire body relaxed. I should get a kids pool for Calvin and I because this is so relaxing. 

She came back out with a glass of water and a pair of sunglasses. Smiling as I took them from her hands as she climbed back down into her seat then laying out in the sun. 

“Thank you.” Telling her as I placed the sunglasses on my face then taking a sip of the cold water. 

“No problemo Gard.” She smiled as she bent forward to splash some water on Angus who tried to eat the water she splashed him with. She looked so beautiful with the sun shining down on top of her. Coras skin was shining and her smile..it feels so genuine and contagious. Like if you’re not smiling you’re out of place. Not to mention she’s just so bubbly that..it’s a good feeling when I’m around her. 

Blinking a few times as Angus got up from the pool to then shake himself as all the water splashed over Cora and I! If a dog could smirk I think Angus would. We both watched as he opened the screen door to then walk inside. What a dog. 

“Sorry that my dog just gave you a shower.” She took off her glasses to whip off the water. 

“I’m assuming that you taught him how to do that?” Asking her as she nodded. She put her glasses back on her face to look at me. 

“Spoiled loveable child.” She shook her head as she went down to take a sip of her kool aid. I reached down for water to start drinking it. 

“Glad you’re finally relaxing. Though it would never happen to Gard. You 're more wounded than a screw itself.” I’ve always had my own way of doing things and enjoyed my very..tight.. Schedule..But here Cora comes to basically destroy that schedule..and I’m kind of okay with it...

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that of course. I mean it’s great that you have such a tight schedule and you like to do things your way. But sometimes you just gotta take a step back and breath a little. Also have your feet chillin 'in a kiddie pool while you get a sun tan and take a break from the job.” I will say though we look a little silly sitting in her front yard. But I imagine her backyard is covered head to toe in veggies and flowers. 

“If you keep working and not taking a second, you’re gonna watch your life go by without ya. Sorry..didn’t mean to sound so preachy there holy crap.” She laughed at herself as I couldn’t stop looking at her. Why does she care so much? I know that about 90% of the people I deliver mail to don’t even know me. Trudy is the only one I talk to..and then she comes into play...and..

I..I want her to see the boat. I mean. She’s shown me her entire home and she’s yet to see mine. Wouldn’t you think she’d like to see mine? I know she’s asked but..I didn’t know what she would do if I told her I lived in a boat. 

What do I say to her? Hey why don’t you come see my boat? Wanna see my boat? How do I make myself sound extremely creepy towards her? Her beautiful copper hair that was just all over the place shined beautifully. Cora’s smile kept making my heart skip a few beats as her fingers were messing with the book. I want her to come on my route so I can show her the boat. Don’t most women love boats? 

“Wanna see my home?” Blurting out as she turned towards me then rose up in her chair. 

“Sure. Let me get my keys.” She looked so adorable. A big Hawaiian shirt that had a tank top underneath, a cute pair of white shorts then her sandals. She walked inside her house as I finished chugging the water for the walk home. 

“How long have you been a mailman?” She asked as she was walking backwards in front of me with her hair flapping with each step. 

“Since I was eighteen. I was even a designated note passer for these two kids in school, kind of appropriate.” She looked so..pretty. Her hair shined, she walked with such a lovely step. As if she was almost skipping. How does someone be this happy all the time?

I found out that she’d been playing the piano since she was a kid. Umm she can make a mean lamb roast, and sells vegetables at farmers markets and even tries to get a stand at county and or State Fairs. I had no idea she was so resourceful. Is it weird that I kind of want her to make dinner for me so I can try this great lamb roast. 

“It has a crap ton of garlic but don’t worry it works extremely well together.” She was so passionate about her cooking and bubbly. Most women I know who are my age who can’t even cook spaghetti. 

“What side dish?” 

“Marinated white beans. You’ll have to come over for dinner sometime and you’ll be leaving ten pounds heavier!” She laughed as we turned down my street. Oh boy. How is she going to react that I live in my boat instead of inside with Calvin. 

“Here we are.” Telling her as she began walking in the driveway. 

“Umm Cora.” I stopped right next to the ladder that led me inside my home. She took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes then back at me. I began walking towards the ladder to climb in. 

“The nameless grace.” She pointed out as I halted. 

“Huh.” Turning around as she had her arms crossed. 

“You do know boats are meant to have names right? There was this one boat that was always docked and it’s name was Floppy Wenis!” I mean I’ve heard of some weird one in my books when I’m trying to sleep. I think there was one called Buoyoncé and another called The Cod Mile. 

I climbed up into the sailboat as she followed right behind me. Glad I got the place cleaned up before going to bed last night. Not that it was dirty or had underwear all over the place. Crouching down into the sailboat to stand straight up as she poked her head in. 

“Cute. I love what you’ve done with the place.” Cora giggled as she held out her hand so she wouldn’t fall flat on her face. Helping her inside as she kept a hold of my hand. They were a little cold but extremely soft to the touch. Wait..I’m still holding them! 

“I’m sorry!” Walking over to the radio as I turned it on for some soft acoustic song to start playing. 

“I sit there. You can sit anywhere else.” Telling her as I tossed my bag on the other side of the booth table. I placed the sunglasses she’d given me on the table right where I usually sit. 

“Gard this is so homey. Really love what you’ve done with the sailboat. Also the ferns that hang off the railings.” She commented as it made me smile. Cora looked around to then sit down across from me on the bench. 

“Thank you.” Molding my fingers together as I made my thumbs started going in small circles.

“So do you have a thing for not sleeping in houses? Ready for some sort of flash flood coming here and all of us vanishing overnight?” Very funny. 

“I’ve liked boats. SO why not live in one.” Shrugging as she raised her eyebrow right at me. Yeah figured she wouldn’t accept that excuse.  

“Why not live with Calvin then? I mean I love my sunflowers but you don’t see me sleeping in the middle of my garden.” Fair point. She put her legs up close to her chest waiting for some kind of response from me. 

“I came from school one day and my parents were gone. The house was empty. The only thing they left behind was this boat. So I moved it to Calvins driveway. His parents took me in.” I somehow get this feeling she can sort of relate. I’m not sad about it anymore and have moved on. But...sometimes I keep thinking they’ll come back for the boat even after all these years just to say hi. A pipe dream and realistically impossible. But wouldn’t it be nice. Her face that was once filled with bubbles just turned into concern and somewhat saddened. I didn’t mean to make her feel sad..just wanted to be honest. 

“Any luck trying to find them?” Her voice cracked a little as she stared directly at me. 

“What would I say?” 

“Something I would Gard. Why? Why have me if you wanted to run?” Shaking her head at her own comment as she looked at the wall then back at me. 

“If we’re being open with one another. I sadly don’t remember my mother at all. Either she died of childbirth or just left right after I was born. Father was a..an extreme druggie who ended up..ah doesn’t matter. Oh what do we have here.” She grabbed one of my binders of my stamp collections to start going through them. I noticed on her ankle looked like some kind of old scar around the ankle. Probably none of my business. 

“I love this one so far. Ya know I wasn’t going to make the assumption that you collected stamps due to the fact you were a mailman. But I gotta ask. Why stamps?” Nothing is more cliche than a mailman collection stamp. Cora’s eyes looked so passionate while she skimmed through all my stamps.

“It’s just this endless potential that sits within these little tiny squares. Kind of wonder where they could’ve gone sometimes when I look at them. Always wondered what people would’ve said in these letters, though no one writes letters anymore. But if they did, they need one of those.” I’ve...I’ve never had the chance to fully tell someone about my stamps before. I mean besides Calvin and my friends down at the office when we have our meetings. But she seems so interested in them and letting me vent about them. 

“I’m going to assume you’ve got a favorite?” My eyes drifted over to The Duke as I motioned her to come over and look. She got off the bench to squat a few inches next to me. So close I could see deep into those sparkling dark blue pools. 

“So why is the shirtless man so special?” 

“That my dear friend is The Duke, King of the Longboard. You have your Elvis china and I have my stamps, sort of the Elvis of my collection.”

“Why? What’s so special about Mr. Duke?” 

“It’s a misprint.” 

“Wait what?” She giggled to take another look at the stamp. 

“It’s a misprint. It’s the only one in the world. His longboard is upside. See?” She nodded as our heads were almost butting into each other. 

“Well..son of a biscuit. What a misprint.” My throat unexpectedly dried up quicker than I expected as we just kept smiling at each other. 

Slowly moving towards each other as our lips finally made contact. Her beautiful lips sent shivers up and down my body. I’m too afraid to touch her or even do anything..last girl I kissed was a bet in High School..I could feel my face turning dark red as I cupped her face in my hands. 

Cora abruptly backed away from against the wall with her finger types on her lips. Gulping as her eyes were widened. She was going to say something but kept falling short of words. 

“I’m..I’m sorry..I..” Spinning around to dash out of the boat and almost tripping trying to get out. 

“Wait Cora!” I was about to sprint out towards her but she must’ve knocked over the sunglasses because they made a loud cracking sound in my feet. 

No...no..I didn’t ruin it did I!? Looking at the time as I realized that it was already after four...I’ll keep my bag for the night then when I do my route tomorrow I’ll just deliver whatever else I didn’t get the chance to deliver. 

Should probably go inside and try to act normal. Although I imagine Calvin will be having a field day because today is his day off. Climbing out of the boat then down the ladder as I tried to keep myself panicking in front of Calvin. He’s going to go on and on about approaching her and how to get her into bed. Not exactly what I’m going for. 

I made it through the front door then into the kitchen where Calvin already had dinner ready. And now I just realized that I’m extremely late for dinner. This should be absolutely fun to deal with. 

“Sorry I’m late Cal.” Sitting down at the dining room table but he didn’t turn around to say anything to me. But only letting out a big sigh. 

“Cal!” He smacked the eggplant on the plate as he was about to say something. 

“My eggplant parmesan is congealing.” I’m not quite sure if I’m even in the mood for eggplant. Vietnamese or Greek just sounds better than eggplant. 

“I had to work late.” 

“Am I living in a house of lies! You come through that door everyday at 5:29 pm on the dot for the past six years, and who was that guy with the 80s hair band running from your boat?” She’s not in a hair band? I mean obviously I knew he would catch me but she’s not even a man, Cora just has beautiful humongous hair. Which I imagine is super soft. 

“It was a woman.” Never thought I would have to say that. 

“My man! She smokes your hogan?” 

“I don’t think so and what does that even mean?” What does smoking your hogan your mean? Like..a..I don’t even wanna think about it. 

“Where did you meet her?” 

“Work.” 

“Is she a mailman?” She’s far too beautiful to be a carrier. 

“Carrier and no she’s a customer. Her name is Cora.” 

“Whoa whoa whoa. Is she an old lady?” 

“No.” 

“Lady of the night?” 

“No!” 

“Housewife?” 

“Single and no. She lives by herself.” 

“Single, her own home and on the route nice! So okay theres lots of ingredients here for a very erotic role-play situation.”

“You gonna see her again?” 

“Probably tomorrow.” 

“You nervous?” Shaking my head as Cal saw right through it.  

“You must not like her if you’re not nervous.” 

“I’m a little nervous.” More like shaking in my own shoes from the fact that I don’t wanna mess this up. 

“All right okay lets get a good solid plan together. This is you and this is her.” He was messing with the table mats. 

“No no I don’t wanna plan this.” Last time Cal had one of his plans he ended up spilling the nacho cheese all over the girls jeans. Yeah never letting him plan anything dealing with my love life. 

“Well you’re gonna need a plan or you’re just gonna get passed over like celery at the salad bar.” 

“I just wanna let it happen.” 

“Alright if that’s your play.” He began reading through his magazine of Martha Stewart recipes and home diy. 

I really don’t wanna mess this up..she’s absolutely fantastic..just the thought of her..oh boy what have I gotten myself into now. 

Taglist

@bonafiderocketqueen​ @filmslutt​ @johndeaconshands​ @amethyst-serenade​ @soy-guey​ @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​ @queen-turtle-boiii​ @mercury-wife​ @deck-heart​ @deakydeacs @mirkwoodshewolf​ @supersonicfreddie​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @dancingcoolcat​ @bitchyleek​ @belladonichaaze​ @mrsmazzello​

[loljulie]

title: bet on it 

genre: borderlands 

timothy lawrence x reader 

word count: 2522

 (am i really making timothy lawrence imagines now?? yes, yes i am. just to put this piece of work into a clearer setting: 

Y/N is CEO of hyperion now because she was decently close to jack before he died, and he promised his position to her. she is a much nicer CEO than him, and when she got power she def absolved timothy’s contract but he stayed with her anyway because, cute love or whatever.

timothy is kinda flustered, kinda confident in this because in this AU he’s had a lot of time to explore who he is without jack around

i really have this whole character’s backstory planned out so maybe expect more imagines in the future as i explore their relationship?? also don’t come @ me about the title it’s midnight and i couldn’t be clever, but Y/N and timothy watch a spaceball game and it’s just baseball in space because, once again, i’m not clever) 

Tired fingers stretched across the keyboard, typing up an email you had been pushing off nearly all day. You sighed as you held down the backspace key and deleted the previous minute’s work, not quite liking how your sentence sounded. Being CEO was awesome as hell for the most part, but you as you stared at the blinking cursor, you suddenly loathed the title.

The door to your office opened. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was, as there was only one person who was allowed to walk in unannounced.

“Ah, perfect timing - I needed somebody to blow my brains out so I don’t have to write this damn email,” you muttered as Tim’s footsteps came to a halt in front of your desk.

“It sounds like I should’ve come earlier, then,” he commented, and you finally tore your eyes away from the illuminated screen to look at him. You were slightly surprised to see him in more casual clothes than he normally wore, as he sported a short-sleeved shirt with Hyperion’s logo across it and jeans. It fit him very well, so much so that you got mildly distracted staring at him. “The spaceball game is about to start, so we’d better hurry.”

“The - what?” You asked, your eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar word.

“Spaceball, remember?” He repeated in a more questioning tone. When he saw that you still didn’t understand, he went on. “You signed off on the request for some workers to form their own teams and play against each other at the end of the fiscal quarter - which happens to be today.”

He didn’t need to remind you of that; the email addressed to accounting was still waiting to be written. You let out a large sigh and rubbed your hands over your eyes.

“I totally forgot, babe,” you mumbled between your hands. “I don’t think I can make it, this email-“

“Can be sent tomorrow,” Tim gently goaded as he walked around your desk to get to you. “The workers have been training all quarter long for this and an appearance from their CEO would help their morale for next quarter.”

You didn’t speak, just let out a soft grunt to let him know you heard. He had a point, after all.

“And, from the looks of it, the CEO could use some morale too.” You felt his hands envelope your own as he moved them away from your face. “You’ll work yourself to death one day, you know.”

You looked into his beautiful heterochromatic eyes and attempted one more weak protest.

“I don’t even know what spaceball is - I just signed it so our employee health and wellness budget went somewhere useful.”

Tim wrapped his hands around your wrist and slowly brought you up to your feet. Though you brought up reasons to not go, you and him both knew that you’d ultimately cave in to his demands. He was the only one who could chide you into taking time off for yourself when you forgot to; and without him, you probably would’ve gone delirious.

“I’ll explain it all on the way down, pumpkin,” he assured. You lifted your hands from his grip to grab your coat from the back of your chair.

Your uniform was all designed by your assistant, and you had to admit she did an impeccable job. Despite it being a black long coat, the material was light and breathable; the inside was lining was a smooth, silky yellow, and a golden “H” pin adorned the space above your left breast.

While it had the option to be buttoned, you left it open to reveal your white, collared shirt which tucked perfectly into your high-waisted black pants.

Really, you would’ve prefered your outfit from your prior-Hyperion-CEO days, but Denise insisted that you dress the part for your employees. The heeled boots you wore made you feel badass enough to accept the change to your wardrobe.

You began to walk in pace with Tim, who managed to interlock his left hand with your right one as you made your way to the elevator down the hall from your office.

“So, the batter has to hit the ball and run to first base…”

As the elevator slowly descended the space station, you listened intently to Tim’s description of whatever “spaceball” was. Games and recreation of that sort were never something you enjoyed growing up, which meant almost all aspects of the game were confusing to you.

“Wait, so how many times do the teams switch spots?” You asked after he explained what it took to have the different teams switch sides.

“Well, there’s 9 innings, so -”

“9? Why do they need so many?” You asked, incredulous. “Who came up with that number?”

“I, uh…” Tim trailed off, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I actually don’t know, that’s just the number.”

The elevator doors opened, and the two of you stepped out into an old storage bay that had been transformed into a makeshift stadium of sorts. Tim had mentioned that they only had time and space to build half of a stadium, but its appearance still stunned you nonetheless. You were surprised to see just how many people made up the audience alone; rows and rows of seats piled to the ceiling were filled with employees (and family members, you had to guess, because there was no way Hyperion had that many workers).

Tim gently guided you away from the main ramp that audience members were still funneling into, and up a flight of stairs. After entering the door at the top of the stairs, you were met with a moderately sized room - one big enough for plush seating for two and a table in the back for refreshments. A large window revealed the interior of the stadium below, and you realized that you were placed above home base. In the middle of the ledge was a microphone that, you guessed, was placed there in case you needed to make any announcements.

The opposite side of the stadium, where the wall would have normally been empty and barren, was decorated with a large screen that displayed a countdown. You walked to the front of the window, and gazed out at the people below and around you.

Some employees had been watching the box for your arrival, and though you didn’t recognize most of them, they still seemed to be delighted by your presence. Those who noticed you quickly turned to their seat partners and, soon enough, more pairs of eyes looked your way.

The teams, which were out in the concrete field throwing a couple balls around, noticed your arrival too. The only way to distinguish the two different teams was the fact that half of the men on the field had on a black shirt with yellow trimmings, and the other a yellow shirt with black trimmings.

A member of the black-shirted team caught your gaze and winked at you; had you been your predecessor, that would’ve undoubtedly been the man’s last action.

“So, who’s going against who?” You asked as Tim sidled up next to you at the window.

“Well, instead of having two departments go head to head, I thought it’d better promote interdependent teamwork and have a mixture of employees on each team,” he answered as he rested his forearm against the ledge and leaned his tall body forward.

“Look at you,” you chirped, mimicking his position while you moved close enough to touch shoulders. “Maybe you should be CEO instead.”

“Yeah, no thanks, I’m good,” Tim hastily replied, causing you to chuckle at his obvious disinterest.

Below, an announcer began to tell everyone to take their seats as the players got into their positions. The digital countdown vanished, and instead showed a live feed of some of the players getting ready.

“Who do you think’s going to win?” You asked as you scanned the players below, wondering your own answer to the question.

“Black, definitely. I’ve seen their practices and, based on the numbers, they’ve got this in the bag.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at his response. Tim, looking suddenly offended by your reaction, bumped into your shoulder. “What?”

“I just can’t believe you’re nerdy enough to calculate that,” you commented, giving him a playful shove back. A smile tugged at Tim’s lips as you let out another laugh.

“Since you’re going black, I’ll root for yellow,” you decided as the first team came to bat. “Gotta go for the underdog.”

“Really? You confident enough to bet on it?” Tim asked, his voice laced with a smugness you rarely heard. It spurred you to challenge him even more.

“Of course I am. What are we betting?”

“A kiss?”

“Too lame,” you dismissed. When you saw his mock look of shock, you continued. “There’s not enough risk involved there. What about winner gets to choose whatever the loser has to wear the next time we’re alone together?”

A red blush crept onto Tim’s cheeks. You felt a smirk appear on your face at his reaction, glad to know you could still make him redden after all this time.

“Deal.” Despite his flushed face, Tim’s voice was steady as he held out his hand for you to shake. You gripped his hand tightly, and met his eyes with a fiery gaze. You couldn’t wait to prove him wrong.

So far, you weren’t doing a good job at that. As the 4th inning came to a close, the black team was ahead by 4 points. Tim, who sat next to you, radiated an aura of smugness you needed to see defeated.

“I told ya, (Y/N), the numbers don’t lie.”

You sat on the edge of the seat, though you had started watching the game in Tim’s embrace. Your jacket had long been discarded on the chair behind you, and your sleeves were rolled up as if watching the game had been some sort of manual labor. The threat of losing a bet to your boyfriend was becoming more and more real, and it was something you couldn’t let happen.

You got up just as the teams began to switch out and a short, loud song played as you made your way to the window. After switching the microphone on, the music subsided, and you began to speak.

“Yellow team, this is your boss speaking.” You felt a thousand pairs of eyes land on you, including the one pair on the back of your head. “I have the utmost faith in you and I believe that  you will win this goddamn game. Make me proud, boys.”

You switched the microphone off as about half of the audience cheered and whooped in agreement. Tim’s eyebrows were raised as you sat back down in your seat, allowing yourself to lean somewhat into his side.

“Worried you might lose the bet?” He asked.

“Why, are you already imagining what you’ll have me wear?” You retorted, knowing full well that your words would cause a blush to rise on his cheeks and effectively knock him down a peg.

You angled your neck up slightly to look at him, which confirmed your prediction. Though the wave of competitiveness was still strong inside you, the opportunity to mess with your boyfriend a little bit more was too strong for you to ignore. You planted a kiss just below his ear, and whispered, “because I’m already doing the same for you.”

When you placed another kiss on his neck, you felt Tim gulp as his arm tensed around you.

Your pep talk clearly had done some good for the yellow team, as their performance drastically improved. Tim expressed his shock to you multiple times as they gained point after point, eventually surpassing the black team’s score. By the end of the 8th inning, you settled comfortably in your seat knowing there was no chance the black team could claim a victory.

As the players switched again to start the 9th inning, the giant screen began to focus on a couple in the crowd. A pink border framed the live feed and text in the bottom corner read “Kiss Cam!” The couple in the video smiled, gave a quick peck, and the camera moved to another couple.

You smiled as you watched the various couples respond differently to being put up on the kiss cam; some were embarrassed and shy, while others embraced the attention and showed off their partners. Every time a couple was featured, the audience would cheer and clap for them. It seemed that, as weird and foreign as this event was to you at first, it really did help build morale.

As you watched the couple on the screen laugh with each other after sharing a modest kiss, the scene changed once more and you realized you were staring at you and Tim, cuddled next to each other. The audience grew louder than you thought possible in their cheers and screams, and you felt your heartbeat quicken as you looked at Tim.

You remembered how, when you first started your relationship with him, everything had to be kept secret in fear of what Jack’s reaction might be; even after it all had passed, and everybody knew who the CEO was dating, you still kept public displays of affection at a minimum.

Yet, with how Tom gazed at you and the cheering of the crowd, you wanted nothing more than to give in to the desire to kiss him. He must have known what was on your mind by the way your face relaxed, because soon Tim’s lips were on yours for the first time that night. His slender fingers curled into your hair as he lightly kept your face against his.

You didn’t think the crowd could have gotten any louder, but the instant your lips touched Tim’s, an unbelievable uproar of claps and whistles ensued. It didn’t make much sense to you why seeing your boss kiss her boyfriend was so exciting, but frankly, their reaction gave you all the more reason to continue.

Eventually, the audience died down, and you pulled away just long enough to see the camera instead focus back on the game itself. You looked back at Tim, who was red in the face and out of breath.

“Should we go back to watching the game?” You asked, though you saw in Tim’s eyes that spaceball was the last thing he wanted to pay attention to, despite how excited he had been about it before.

“Absolutely not.” And, as if to cement his answer, he brought his lips back onto yours and used his free arm to pull you onto his lap.

You didn’t remember anything from the 9th inning other than Tim’s warm lips, tight grip, and soft hair. You were sure people were still occasionally watching the CEO’s box, so you reluctantly made sure the two of you didn’t get too far. You did, however, promise Tim that the two of you would finish what you started later that night.

And, for the record, the yellow team totally won.

[myheadisinvaded]

On With The Show… chapter 6/ sixx

Word count- 1,287

Warnings- curse words,drugs,drinking, I don’t know what else to list as always

A/N- feedback is appreciated, thanks for giving me a chance (if you read it) it’s been a minute, a lot has been going on but i’m back, it might not be the best so i apologize about that, let me know what you think. there will be a playlist for this so far the first song is Heaven by Julia Michaels, On With The Show by Motley Crue, and Fuck Feelings by Olivia O’Brien. I’ll do links later.

Blair’s POV

For the rest of that day I was on cloud nine. I felt so light and happy. The blow was better, the vodka was sweet, I smiled more. Everyone noticed. Nikki seemed to be happier too. I feel like it kind of weirded everyone out. We are all mostly high energy and ‘happy’ but this was a little different. Mick wasn’t too happy, less than normal. We weren’t all over each other or being obvious about the events this morning and afternoon while everyone was still sleeping. No one questioned us but the kissing, the hand holding, eating together, it was amazing. I let myself be happy today. Most of the time I tell myself to get the fuck over it, it’s not going anywhere. But today… today felt a little different so I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Soundcheck was fun, I played with them a little while Mick sat on the edge of the stage and judged my playing. Afterwards we went to get some more drinks. Getting ready for the show, more so them than me but I was high enough on blow and happiness. A couple hours later I see them run on stage, starting the show. I grab my glass of whiskey and stand in my usual spot on the side of the stage until Doc decides to come over and show me something else. I turn around and see him walking towards me. I smile at him and he just looks at me, smiling too as he gets closer. “How about we go enjoy the show down there?” He motions towards the crowd. Oh hell yeah, I nod, excitedly. This is the kind of energy I need. I see Tom coming over and Doc starts walking over the door leading down towards the front stage area.

Tom and I follow him. “How are ya?” he asks as we get into the small, quieter hallway before going out into the area between the front row and the stage. I smile “I’m good, you? Have you signed anyone else?” I ask, a small giggle at his awkwardness. “I’m trying” He says, nodding. Doc makes us hurry and pushes out the door. “We’re comin’ jeez” I say and exaggerate an eye roll before bursting into a fit of giggles. Doc smiles and rolls his eyes. When we step out into the front area we are immediately surrounded by the high energy and booming music from all the speakers. I can feel my chest thumping along with the music, most people don’t notice us so I’m able to go into the crowd with Doc’s permission.

Being surrounded by all the people, seeing them up there, it brings back so many feelings and memories. Most of them being from my life before the guys and at  the beginning when I was still old me. I can’t help but smile and move along with the music, front row again. I watch Mick again, somehow he manages to spot me and then actually smiles. I send a big smile back and let my gaze wander over to Nikki. I somehow make my way through the front row crowd so I’m more towards the middle of the stage but closer to Nikki’s side. He’s rocking along, sweaty, hair sticking to some of his face and the make up is starting to run. I let my body feel the music again and just have fun.

Mick’s POV

Seeing her in the crowd like the very first night we met brought these weird and kind of happy feelings. I actually smile at the memory, the song we are playing right now, perfect. Live Wire. I keep playing and when I close my eyes for a second, I see her. She’s changed a lot in almost a month and a half. I shake those thoughts out of my head and just focus on the concert and the happy memories.

I see her moving through the crowd, the watch I gave her, shining and reflecting the lights and flames. I smile again and this time actually focus back on the music. Tonight will be a good night. I hope so.

Blair’s POV

Life feels great right now, the concert was awesome as always and everyone seems to be in a good mood. Maybe because they get the next 2 days off tomorrow and are allowed to party and relax, well our version of relaxing. Everyone is back at the hotel. The party is in some other hotel room, not a giant party but it’s fun. Before I go off to drink and party with the rest of the guys I decide to check on Mick.

I walk in to the hotel room we share. “What the fuck, man?” I say, feigning annoyance. He’s laying in his bed, eyes closed. He looks up at me “What?” He frowns, I just laugh and shake my head. “Didn’t you say you were actually gonna hang out with us tonight?” He sits there for a minute before giving me a shrug “I can hang out tomorrow night, we have time.” he closes his eyes and lays back down again. I huff and go sit on the edge of the bed beside him “C’mon it’ll be fun” He shakes his head “Have a drink with me and then you can go have fun, kid”

I had grabbed some Jack Daniel’s for us, he painfully reminds me of the first time I drank it. We begin talking and reminiscing, a warm feeling in my chest.

Mick’s POV

For the rest of the night we sit and talk, it’s normal, to drink and just talk. I’m happy when I’m able to get her to stay and drink with me. She does less damage to herself. Everything is going well, she’s doing fine until Nikki runs in, laughing and causing a ruckus. “Babe! Hey! Blair c’mon! What are you doing in here? You too Mick!” He comes over, pulling Blair up off the bed. I just nod and half smile at him. “You gotta come party!”

There's not much I can do but watch as she goes along with him. I sigh and get off the bed, might as well go to the party so I can keep an eye on her. It takes me a minute but I get to it, it’s not hard to find. Just follow the loud voices, music and all the weird smells. As soon as I walk in I see her, doing some lines with Tommy and Nikki. Tommy sees me and cheers, handing me a bottle of vodka. I nod at him and take a seat on a nearby small couch, making a couple that was making out move out of the way.

The night goes on and it’s all out in the open now, Blair and Nikki both have feelings for each other. Everyone is too drunk and high to even care about it. Part of me wants to say fuck it, she’s a grown… well she’s of age. She can make her own decisions and in reality I have absolutely no say in anything she does. It’s like a gross teenage movie in front of me. They’re making out, drinking, doing way too many drugs. She looks happy, the smile on her face is different, even if she’s all coked up and drunk.

I finally manage to convince myself it's a good thing, long enough to allow myself to go have some fun of my own. Just because I was cursed doesn’t mean I can't enjoy some fun with the opposite gender. I managed to find a decent, mostly sober lady that could consent, so, here I go.

Taglist: @triplehaitches @flizaa @fandomshit6000 @prettysureimgayxo (@lovesick-heart0) @tarahell @shamelessobsessions @miss-ncthing @sighsophiia @anxious-diabetic @redhotvinyl let me know if you want to be tagged! Thank you!

[jack-kellys]

woulda look at that! it’s PART TWO of the thanksgiving fic!!! right on time!!! scroll down on my blog for part 1 gang

alright!

————

warnings: ha steam YEET, like steam enough that qualifies for NSFW ohohoho but nothing Happens dw, more cursing, yeah

words: more than last time? yeah

woo

————

As much as Albert wasn’t confused as to why he was called to this occasion, he knew Crutchie would regret it. Everyone would. Something would go wrong—that was just how it was.

He, Race, Romeo, and Elmer were all going to be cooking in one kitchen together. If someone didn’t fucking kill themselves it’d be a goddamn miracle. Team Brain had evacuated the entire floor, leaving the group alone.

“Sis, why are we even making pumpkin pie? I hate that shit,” Romeo whined, reluctantly unwrapping the plastic on the crust.

“A few things on what you just said to me,” Albert started, not even looking at the boy.

“Oooh man. Here we go,” Race interjected with a giddy smile. “He always does this.”

“First,” Al spoke louder to be heard over Race. “First, do not ever call me sis, or sister, or whateverthefuck. Second, we are making pumpkin pie because it is fucking thanksgiving and you do that shit. And third, shut up. I don’t need your goddamn opinions.”

“Awww, SHIT!” Elmer cheered. “Get fucked, Ro.”

“‘That’s just my opinion!’” Romeo quoted, doing the distorted voice as well and earning a laugh from Albert. Dammit, Vine.

“Got you!” Romeo taunted. “I made’ja laugh!”

“Go peel me some fuckin’ potatoes, you heathen,” Race ordered. Romeo sighed dramatically, passing Albert the crust and going through drawers searching for a peeler.

“Hey, I brought a speaker. Y’all want music?” Elmer asked, holding up his Bluetooth speaker. Albert looked up for a moment, seeing it only briefly before Race snatched it up and was syncing it up to his own phone.

“Goddammit, Race,” Albert sighed, but kept stirring the condensed milk into the bowl he was using. “Sorry, guys, I gotta go up two stories and throw myself out the window.”

“My fault,” El shrugged. “Sorry, Al.”

“It’s okay, El, I’ll just die. It’s fine,” Albert assured him. Elmer smiled brightly in response, nodding, and the two burst out laughing.

“Date?” Race asked, Taylor Swift coming in through the speaker as he looked between Elmer and Albert.

Albert deadpanned. “Race. I have been dating you since we were fifteen and gross.”

“Yeah, um...why?” Romeo asked. Reasonable question.

“I like...couldn’t tell you, sorry,” Albert shrugged, but regretted his words as soon as he saw Race’s smirk.

“That’s not what you’d say in be—“

Before Race could finish, Albert scooped a small amount of pie mixture out of the bowl with his spoon and flung it at Race without a second thought.

“‘Stop! I could’ve dropped my croissant!’” Race screeched, ducking around the glob and waving the speaker around.

“Actually, that’s my croissant,” Elmer added. This time, Romeo burst out laughing.

“Shit, this kid is on fire tonight,” Albert chuckled. “Race who?”

“Again,” Race said, pointer finger in the air as if to make a point, “that’s not what you say in be-ed.” Oh, great. He finished his sentence this time.

“Jesus Christ, shut up and stop exposing me,” Albert muttered, trying to focus on how the mix in his bowl was getting stiffer, which was good. Romeo had peeled more than a few potatoes, Elmer had chopped up all the sweet potatoes, and even Race had gotten more than halfway through with whatever Italian crazy thing he was making for tomorrow. They had made real, actual progress.

So when Race said “make me” with a sparkle in his blue eyes and a smirk pulling on his lips, Elmer and Romeo wiggling their eyebrows at Albert in return, Al only took a moment of hesitation before he marched up to Race and locked his lips with his, Elmer managing to catch his beloved speaker as it dropped out of Race’s hand when he went to wrap his arms around Albert’s neck, pulling at his red hair. Albert’s hands found their way around their usual place at Race’s hips, squeezing lightly.

“Give us a few minutes, boys,” Albert mumbled around Race’s mouth, then hiked Race up against his body, grabbing under his thighs.

He heard Romeo whistle. “Hell yeah! Get the hell outta here!” Romeo cheered, Elmer shushing him jokingly and turning up the music a bit more after changing it.

Albert walked he and Race into the closest room, pressing Race against the wall as his lips latched onto Race’s neck, trailing kisses down it. Al felt Race give his forehead a quick kiss before he let out a small moan.

“Why do we always get hot at shitty times?” Race breathed out, squeezing his thighs tighter around Albert's hips.

“Y’kinda fuckin’ asked for it, Sunshine,” Al murmured against Race’s skin, feeling the other boy shiver. He felt Race try to trace through Albert’s shirt to his chest, making the redhead whine slightly, a poor attempt at stifling it. Race laughed lightly at his expense.

“An’ you are fuckin’ needy,” Race taunted, leaning his hips closer into Albert’s and laughing again when Albert let out a hum. Suddenly Race grabbed Albert’s chin and tilted it up towards him, blue eyes now narrowed. “Not like I’m complaining,” Race whispered, and Albert swore his heart started to beat fifty miles a minute. Albert quickly closed the distance between them, kissing Race bruisingly hard as he squeezed the boy’s thighs, resisting the urge to run his hands over Race’s body.

After a couple of minutes, Race attempted to speak. “Would—“ Albert stopped his sentence, kissing him again before letting him speak for real. “Would Kath kill us if we fucked in her house?”

Al leaned away from Race’s face a moment, actually considering the idea and biting his swollen lip in thought. “Well…” He pursed his lips, “wouldn’t it be, like, a literal ‘fuck you’ to her dad?”

Race laughed. “Sex in protest!”

Albert grinned. “A fuck—but for the good of the people.”

Race cracked up at that, and Albert tore Race off the wall in search of a bedroom as Race giggled against the hickey he was trying to give.

•••

Thanksgiving day had finally come, and now everyone was over decorating the mansion or finalizing food. Sniper had Smalls sitting on her shoulders to tape something up, Jack was arguing with Buttons about what color was better for the tablecloth, Specs and Henry were in the kitchen double checking things, and most everyone else was laughing and talking or absently putting up more decorations. Kath clasped her hands together in excitement just watching her friends all working together and enjoying themselves. It was just how she had pictured, and it truly warmed her heart.

“Kinda cute, right?” Sarah said, putting an arm around Kath’s waist and watching their friends as well. “Pretty impressive they got it together for this one day.”

“If only they could get it together, period,” Kath joked while Sarah nodded vigorously.

“But seriously,” Katherine said, “it’s kind of…really nice that this is that important to everyone.”

“Hey!” Specs called to the room. “Food’s ready!”

A few whoops went up as most people made their way to the long table. Spot, Albert, and Jack helped to take all the platters to the table.

“You really outdid yaself, Kath,” Jack complimented, nudging Katherine as he passed her. “Thanks for this.”

She gave him an earnest smile, heading to her seat with Sarah. Once she got there, fire she even sat down, she was startled by Race yelling “S P E E C H!” at the top of his lungs. Although anyone sitting in a two foot radius of him told him to shut the fuck up, everyone else looked like they wanted a goddamn speech, and some started chanting it.

Which Katherine, even while expecting this to happen a little, had definitely not prepared.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed before their chanting would break any glass. “You want a speech? Fine. Alright.

“This day is normally not a very special day for me. Yeah, okay, I go to a fancy other mansion upstate every year, but it’s not..special. Even if I’m seeing family and people I haven’t seen in a year, those people there are mostly just that to me—people.

“I don’t know them. Not like I know all of you, or you knowing all of me. This is what thanksgiving should be, right? Spending it with people you actually know and talk to and keep in touch with. People who really make a difference in your life.

All of you? Are what thanksgiving is supposed to mean. Family, and friends, and people that in turn have made me a better person for knowing them. So I just…” Kath wiped her face quickly, laughing at herself a little. “Thank you, you know? For actually making this year’s holiday important to me again.”

A chorus of ‘aww’s filled the air while some boys clapped. Katherine finally sat down, blushing, and Sarah kissed her cheek gently.

“Honey, that was so sweet,” she whispered. “They gotta be honored you feel that way.” Katherine saw Davey nod on her other side and felt him squeeze her shoulder, but then saw Jack stand up next to him.

“As a matter of fact—“ He barely started before getting booed by nearly everyone. Katherine cackled in laugher while Jack whapped her arm. “Hey! We can all agree I somewhat speak for us, right? C’mon!” he finished, eyes wide.

Most of the booing died down, and Kath snorted as Spot started to protest and Race & Albert both smacked a hand over his mouth at the same time.

“Alright,” Jack restarted, eyes sweeping the massive table before continuing. “I just wanted to voice what all of us are probably thinking, which is that we should be thanking you. You let our crazyass group not only into your father’s mansion—which, every time you do that, holy shit thank you—but let us cook actual food in your kitchen, let us decorate your whole house, let us buy what we wanted for today, I mean...to any one of us, that is really somethin’. You gotta know this ain’t just special for you, but us too, cause there really ain’t any other place big enough to fit all of us.” A few laughs chorused, but Jack shushed the room once more. “We usually gotta split up for thanksgiving, I dunno if you knew that Kath. So this is a first time for us too, so, thanks. More than you know.” He shrugged, giving Katherine a smile as he sat back down.

“I guess that was pretty valid,” Smalls sighed, and everyone else begrudgingly agreed.

“Well, thank you, all of you, for also thinking that today is special. It means a lot to me,” Katherine smiled. “Now! Let’s eat, ‘cause we worked way too hard on this goddamn food for it to get cold!”

More cheering this time as everyone dug in at last. People laughed as they talked, everyone looked to be liking the food. They looked…happy. Really, really happy.

And so was Katherine, finally, on a day she never thought she would be.

———

happy thanksgiving everyone, not to be romantic and cheesy an bullshit but I’m grateful that all y’all read my shit it’s really cool of you! thanks so much!

TAG LIST

@suddenly-im-respecsable

@cream--rises

@bencookisagod

@thatpoorguysheadisspinning

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@stopthe-presses

@newsies-of-nyc

@papesdontsellthemselves

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@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog

@thomasbeingthomas

@the-king-of-brooklyn

@sunshine-e-cigarettes

@thebroadwayaesthetic

[davidelizabethbowiestrider]

Pins and patches, Jake asking Michael out? owo

(I live for Jake asking Michael out bless you)

“Nothing I’ve done has even phased him, Rich. Do you think he doesn’t like me? Like does he not have an interest in me?” Rich groaned as he shoved Jake’s backpack towards him, the two teens sitting on the hood of Michael’s car as they waited for the other teen to get out of his tech crew meeting with Mr. Reyes and Christine. “I think that maybe you’re both idiots, because you’re both crushing on each other hardcore dude. Like seriously, just ask him out. You’re Jake Dillinger, man! He’d be crazy to say no.” Jake worried his lower lip as he considered Rich’s words; he hadn’t noticed Michael showing any signs of liking him, though he had always been a little bit slower to catching on when people liked him (case in point, it had taken Chloe nearly throwing herself at him in eight grade to realize that she might, maybe, like him). “Do you really think I’d have a chance? I’m not exactly his usual type.” Rich snorted, leaning back against the windshield to bask in the warmth of the midday sun. “Does Mell even have a type? Has Michael ever even shown interest in a human before?” Jake shot him a look, and Rich beamed at him. “I mean besides him living up Heere’s ass.” Jake’s expression fell some, and Rich sighed as he sat up. “Seriously though, dude. He practically crawls into your lap during movie night, he steals your sweaters, hell your bed is like the only place he actually gets a good nights sleep. The guy is totally into you.” “Okay but what if I ask him and he says no? We spend a lot of time together! Shit could get really weird and awkward if he doesn’t like me like that.” Rich rolled his eyes, stretching out and kicking his feet some against the trunk. “Okay but what if you ask him out and he says yes? And you guys get to make sweet sweet love into the sunset?” Jake flushed at the thought, reaching over to slap Rich’s stomach. “Dude! Don’t-not cool!” Rich cackled, sitting up some to waggle his brows at Jake. “What, you can’t tell me you haven’t jacked it thinking of those sweet supple thighs man.” Jake’s cheeks turned bright red, and he shoved Rich hard enough to send him rolling off the car, laughing even louder. “I’d let him crush my head between them bro!” Jake groaned, dropping Rich’s backpack onto him with a glare. “I really hate you sometimes, Rich. Jesus.” Rich sat up, grinning widely as he spotted Michael leaving the school, and he jumped up to brush himself off. “You love me. I think I’m going to walk down to Whole Foods and harass Jeremy. Why don’t you ask him out on the ride home?” Jake sputtered as Rich took off at a run, the blond giving a confused Michael a wave as he passed him. “Does he not need a ride home?” Michael asked as he reached the car, slipping his backpack off of his shoulder to set on the trunk as he rubbed where the strap had been digging into his shoulder. Jake huffed, turning to watch as Michael rolled his shoulder, and shifted a bit closer to the other teen. 

“He’s going to bug Jeremy I guess. Is, uh. Your shoulder bugging you?” Michael glanced up as he found his keys, blinking at Jake’s question before half looking at his own shoulder. “Yeah, a little. I guess I over estimated my carrying ability while working on the sets today.” Jake frowned, reaching to gently feel out the spot that seemed to be bugging Michael, and Michael flushed slightly at the contact. “Dude, you gotta be careful when carrying heavy stuff. You could really hurt yourself if you aren’t careful. Want me to take a look?” Strong fingers rubbed over the thick fabric of Michael’s sweater, and the shorter teen made a noise as he shrugged. “Uh, sure? I guess? Normally I’d just ignore it but it actually really hurts...” Jake nodded, taking the keys from Michael to unlock the car and place their bags in the back seat before returning to Michael, who stood silently watching him with an unreadable look on his face. “So you’re gunna have to take your sweater off for me to look at your shoulder, Mikey.” Michael made a face as Jake spoke, hands automatically moving to clutch at the hem of his sweater protectively. “Why Jake Dillinger, are you trying to get me naked in the middle of the school parking lot? I’m just not that sort of girl.” He stated, smirking as he tugged his sweater up and off as Jake’s cheeks reddened. “Oh really? And what sort of girl -are- you, Mr. Mell?” He took Michael’s sweater to fold and place on the trunk, turning to take in the unfamiliar sight of Michael in just a faded Mario t-shirt. “The kind of girl who doesn’t just take her shirt off for just anyone.” Jake grinned at the implication that he wasn’t just anyone, moving to stand behind Michael to press his fingers along his collar and down his back some. “Dude. You have knots the size of baseballs, are you stressing out about something?” Michael shrugged slightly, and Jake bit his lip as he slipped a hand up under Michael’s shirt to press beside his shoulder blade. Michael’s head dropped forward some as he let out a pleased sound, and Jake couldn’t help but press a little hard to pull a small gasp from the other teen. “You need to just like...relax, Michael. You should let me take care of you, man.” Michael hummed, and Jake took a sharp breath, realizing that this might be a good time to seize the moment and do what Rich had been teasing him about. “You should...you should let me take you out. Would you...like to go out with me? Maybe dinner and a movie, or like...I know there’s a roller rink just outside of town, and I know you like that sort of stuff? It could be fun?” Michael tensed slightly at the question, and Jake stilled as he wondered if he’d said something wrong as Michael turned to look at him, causing his hand to slide down to the shorter teens waist as he stared at him. “You want to...take me out? Like as in on a date?” Jake nodded, and Michael’s look morphed into confusion. “Why? Did Rich put you up to this?” Jake frowned, surprised at the question. “What? No, why would- no, Michael, I like...I like you. Like, really like you. Like want to take you out on a date and maybe if you’re okay with it kiss you? Because you’re really cute?” Michael’s cheeks flushed at the words, and Jake tightened his grip on the other teen’s waist slightly as he tugged him a little closer. “Like, you’re really cool. Even back before when Rich and I were assholes to you, you just...let it roll off your back and ignored us. And ugh, I hated how chill you were about everything, and how you were so smart and always had a witty come back. And you’re like. Stupidly attractive. With your hair and your face and just...god, Rich was right about your thighs and I hate it.” Michael’s eyes widened and he tilted his head, a small smirk crossing his lips. “What about my thighs?” He asked, pressing a little closer to Jake and causing Jake’s brain to short circuit for a moment, hardly breathing at the sudden closeness of Michael’s body against his. He hadn’t expected Michael to take to the idea of a date, let alone...this, though he should have suspected that Michael would be the exact opposite of everything he had ever expected of him- the other boy was constantly surprising him. “I-they. You.” He cleared his throat as Michael’s smirk widened, and he rubbed his thumb against Michael’s side as he let his nervousness fall away to confidence at the positive reaction. “I mean, I’m not gunna lie dude. I haven’t been able to think about anything but your thighs since gym class last week when you had to wear those slightly too small shorts. I would do wholly inappropriate things to your thighs and I’m not even ashamed of it, Michael. I would worship your thighs given the chance.” Michael’s blush grew slightly, and he laughed as he gave Jake a gentle shove back. “I guess I could give you a chance to take me out. Flatter does get you somewhere’s with me, after all.” Jake grinned, warmth spreading through him as Michael pulled away to go open the drivers side door. “You can take me out rollerskating. And then if you’re good, maybe you can come home with me and we can discuss your obsession with my thighs.” Jake laughed, moving to get into the car as well as Michael leaned over the center console and into his space. “But first I’m going to have to get those keys back from you, Dillinger.” Jake snorted, holding the keys just out of Michael’s reach. “You’re a tease, Mell. Who’d have thought?” Michael smirked, pressing against him and snatching the keys from him before settling back into his seat, starting the car.“Oh Jakey-D, you don’t know the half of it.” Jake couldn’t help the grin that crossed his lips as they headed out of the parking lot, his mind racing with all the implications of Michael’s words. He’d have to thank Rich tomorrow for getting him to ask Michael out.

[alex-fucking-dempsey]

requested by: beaniekt

oh gosh, this was requested so fucking long ago :/ IM SORRY ;-;

-

Zach had just sat down next to Bryce- with five cups of fruit loops- the brunette smiled wickedly looking at his close friend as Zach opened up the first cup of fruit loops, “Hey, I heard you were looking for some more money,” Zach looked up his eyebrows furrowed, he was he needed money but he couldn’t get a job because he had to constantly watch May, help Alex Standall with his physical therapy, and go to baseball- and basketball- practice/games.

The raven-haired boy shrugged while putting a few of the colorful cereal into his mouth, “I mean… I guess so, why?” He questioned.

“Well, how about you and I make a little bet” Zach stopped eating his eyebrows raised in curiosity, nodding inquisitively, “You see Standall over there,” Zach’s eyes followed Bryce's gaze. There Alex Standall was his light brown almost red colored hair picking at his salad, he and Alex were acquaintances they weren’t extremely close although Zach did help him from time to time it didn’t really make them best friends.

“Yeah what about him?” Zach asked looking back towards the wicked boy.

“I bet you can’t get him to fall in love with you in time of now to the end of the school year,” He smirked, the taller one of the two frowned, but money was money and Bryce was filthy rich.

“How much are we talking?” Zach asked popping another fruitloop in between his thin pink lips.

“Five hundred big ones,” Was it worth it? Zach decided on no. He shook his head slowly.

“Nah dude, that’s fucked up,” Bryce raised his eyebrows at the boy next to him.

“Someone’s afraid to lose,” He was manipulating and maniacal and he knew just how to get what he wanted, especially when it came to getting one of his goons to do something for him.

“I’m not afraid to lose it’s just that’s mean is all,” He shrugged speaking with less confidence than before eating more of the cereal.

“Mhm,” He hummed sarcastically, with a small grin playing at his thin lips, “I think someone’s a coward,” He sung grabbing Zach's cereal cup and eating a few. Zach hated that word, coward, he was one, that was true but he wouldn’t admit it he wouldn’t speak of it, what he said got underneath his skin.

“I’m not coward, I’ll do it…” He inhaled before continued, “For double the price,” Bryce nodded looking at his ‘friend’ with new found respect for him.

“Alright,” He nodded sticking his hand out, “It’s a bet,” Zach nodded a sinking feeling inside his stomach- he ignored it.

-

“Hey, Alex,” Zach said as they stood in the locker room of the swimming pool after another their physical therapy session. Alex looked up at the boy with a hum as he ran a towel through his hair, “Wanna go see a movie with me, I- I mean if you aren’t tired, because you really pushed yourself today,” He smiled, trying to persuade him.

“Am I going to get something other than salad?” He questioned making Zach chuckle.

“Of course,”

“Then yeah, okay, as long as it isn’t a cheesy shitty teen movie,” He rolled his eyes as he had slipped on his shirt, closing his locker.

“Nah, dude, we’ll watch a good movie,” He spoke his gaze lingering a little too long before he went ahead a put his white tee shirt on, putting his varsity jacket over, hair wet sticking to his forehead he ran his hands through it.

“What’s even playing at the theaters?” Alex questioned standing up using his cane for support. Zach thought for a second, what would be best to execute his plans.

“I think a good horror movie is playing I’m not too sure,” The giant shrugged before helping Alex out of the pools lockerroom, his heart nagging at him 'this is wrong, this is fucking wrong Zach, look at him he’s been through so much,’ he inhaled deeply, pushing the thoughts away, further into the back of his mind… If only he would’ve listened to that feeling.

As they got in the car Zach looked over at Alex, a silence fell between the two. He smiled before looking back to a steering wheel, once Zach got settled in he started the car and began to drive towards the Crestmont.

Jack noticed the silence no radio is playing so he took it upon himself to turn the radio up, going through the options before he landed on one Bitch Better Have my Money played Zach smiled contently, Alex was having none of it- he could get down to some Rih-Rih don’t get him wrong but this wasn’t a song he was into at the moment.

“Seriously?” The boy deadpanned, Zach looked over at him his eyebrows furrowed as he chuckled shrugged his shoulder.

“Bitch better have my money!” Zach sang along to the song with a knowing smirk toying on his lips, “Y'all should know me well enough!” He shrugged his shoulder up and down as a form of- terrible- dancing.

“This is shit Zach,” He rolled his eyes Zach looked over at him with a look of pure confusion.

“How can you diss the queen herself?” He questioned out of pure shock.

Alex shook his head sarcastically clicking his tongue, “Oh young Dempsey, you have a lot to learn, she is good- mmmmsure, but, not THAT good,” He shrugged simply.

“Alright, plug your phone into my aux, let's see,” Alex did what has requested a smile stretching across his lips, his dimples very predominately there.

The music began playing and Zach knew exactly who it was, he looked over at Alex, “Now, she is a true queen,” He explained as Billie Elishes Copy Cat played.

“Is this the song you get hyped to?” He asked.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I mean. C'mon, listen to it,” Alex replied looking out the window.

-

“Are you scared?” Zach asked the boy was hogging the popcorn, he had jumped for the tenth time.

“N-no, this amateur shit,” He whispered back to his taller counterpart. Zach smiled before looking back up at the screen Alex was obviously scared and Zach was too- not that he’d admit it. Alex jumped the popcorn being thrown up into the air the buttery popcorn landing on the two of them.

“Why’d you lie?” Zach questioned smirking biting back a laugh. Alex shot him a glare grabbing a piece of popcorn from Zach's lap.

“Hey guess what,” Alex whispered. Zach shrugged with a questioning look on his face, “Fuck you.” He smiled, Zach starred at Alex his eyebrows raised with a smirk, he mimicked Alex picking a piece of popcorn from his shoulder.

“Yeah, okay,” he smirked looking back at the screen.

“She’s so fucking stupid why is gonna go back into the-” A scream erupted from the woman on the screen scaring Alex forcing himself to lean into Zach his face straight into Zach's arms.

“Yeah, Alex, you’re totally not scared not at all,” Zach laughed a tad before rolling his eyes.

“Fuck you,”

“You would,” He smirked.

“Sorry, I have higher standards,” He smirked.

-

It’d been a month into the bet and now if you saw Zach you saw Alex and if you saw Alex you saw Zach. They were inseparable the best of friends, yes, they were extremely annoying together and no, they didn’t care nor did they notice, Bryce sure as hell did and spoke up to Zach, Zach was on his way to sleep over at Alex’s leaving Bryce's place, “Don’t tell me you actually like that freak,”Zach's stomach dropped and he wanted to defend Alex and put Bryce in his place but no matter how much he wanted too, he couldn’t.

“Nah man,” He faked a smile, “All for the bet, I want that money,” Bryce smirked it was enough to throw chills down Zach's spine.

“Yeah, man, of course the bet,” And with that Zach left his keys in hand, he frowned, was this worth it? Could it push him over the edge one day? Would it? What would happen after the money? Zach frowned hitting his head- Love, Simon style (Zach forced Alex to go and watch it with him, yes, Zach cried) on his stirring wheel.

“I’m a piece of shit aren’t I, dad?” He questioned to no one but himself, he didn’t even know if he believed in signs but at that moment he looked over at the right time and there a white butterfly landed on his windshield and his aunt calls those butterflies angel butterflies, he smiled to himself, do what’s right he could hear his father saying.

-

Alex starred up at ceiling his arms on his stomach, he couldn’t sleep- he just could put his finger on why “Zach?” He waited for a response looking at the strange patterns in the ceiling.

“Yeah?” Zach whispers. He longed to tell Alex about everything he wanted to, it’s what was right he took a deep breath.

“I can’t sleep,” Alex spoke mindlessly not really knowing Zach had something on his mind.

“Me either,” The raven-haired boy rolled over to face his smaller counterpart who was on the bed, to his surprise a pair of blue eyes were already trained on him.

“Why can’t you?” He asked softly picking at the sheets beneath him.

Zach shrugged, “Not sure,” He knew, he knew very well. Alex reached for the pillow underneath his head throwing it at the boy on the floor.

“What the heck, Alex?” He laughed throwing it back- softly of course.

“Suck it, Dempsey,” He smiled, it was something that Zach had seen a few times before but it was felt special like his dimples were only ever present around him, his smile so bright that even the sun got jealous it just got Zach's stomach flipping in circles.

“Before the world goes to shit in the next couple of weeks and we are all put on the trail do you want to go to the carnival with me tomorrow?” His dark brown eyes looked through his lashes at towards Alex. How could you say no to Zachary Dempsey? Short answer, you can’t.

“Yeah…” Alex smiled throwing the pillow back at Zach.

-

“You gotta win me a Teddy Bear,” Alex said as he pointed to the game it was night so light shone perfectly on Alex's smile. Alex felt normal- well as normal as he could- no one knew why he had the cane and there were no stupid whispers about him.

“You bet your ass I will,” Zach shot back with a smirk pulling out a couple of dollars as Alex took out his phone and opened Snapchat up and began recording as soon as Zach bought the balls.

“Don’t record me!” Zach giggled as he threw the ball making one of the moving clowns fall down causing the two of them to cheer, Zach looked back at the Alex with a smile before doing it, again and again, winning the prize. Zach- while Alex was still recording took his best friend into a large bear hug causing a laugh to erupt from the smaller boy, the recording had stopped and Alex- of course, didn't post it to his story but saved it- smiled as Zach let go of him.

The man in the booth smiled sweetly at the two, “Which bear would you like son?” Zach looked over at Alex.

“The giant brown one,” He said looking up at the taller more beefier of the two. The man nodded turning around handing it to Zach.

“You take care of him,” He said passing the bear over.

“Oh, we’re not a-”

“We’re friends,” Alex said shaking his head.

“Sure you are,” He smiled.

And with that, the two set off walking- Alex limping- around the carnival. “Teacups?” Zach suggested, Alex shook his head.

“It’ll make me sick,”

“Funnel cakes?” Zach said fixing the bear he was holding.

“Yeah,” The two slowly but surely made their way there getting two funnel cakes- one with extra cinnamon.

Zach whipped out his phone doing a boomerang from the funnel cakes to Alex. “That’s ugly, I’ll bet,” Alex frowned tearing off a piece with his hands.

“What do you mean?” The other one questioned his face stuffed, powered sugar around his lips.

Alex grabbed a napkin reaching for Zach's face- not realizing, “Me, I mean, its ugly because of me,” He shrugged his blue eyes looking down at his lips sipping away the powdered sugar- and then he caught himself quickly sitting down throwing the napkin towards the chocolate-eyed boy.

Zach rolled his eyes wiping his lips not saying a word about what had just occurred, “Don’t talk yourself down like that,” Zach sternly spoke looking straight into the icy blue eyes of Alex Standall. “You looked…” Zach struggled to find the right words, “Amazing,” He smiled a small and goofy grin.

Zach and Alex stared at each other for a while, “Sweet,” He said sarcastically, “Now eat your food,”

-

Within two months and a half, the two were all over each other's social media, if you looked on Zachs Snapchat you’d see Alex had hacked his phone- being the only person that knows his password- with a stupid photo of he and Zach. If you look on Alex’s Instagram you’d see his normal emo boy postings but sprinkled with a carousel post of he and Zachs adventures, in the description of those pictures it would read 'The jock and the crippled adventures part…’ The two of them were close extremely close.

“Zach,” The brunette haired boys whispered- it was pretty late- his phone on the tired boys face, zooming in.

“Shut the fuck up, Standall,”

He giggled his foot coming into the frame of his Snapchat video kicking him softly, “You’re the worst,” Zach opened his eyes at that comment flipping the boy off and at that moment when brown met blue for the million and tenth time something shifted the world stopped spinning, the universe stopped expanding, time had stopped. The two tired boys had a connection sure, but they had just become more than that, just one look and it shook the foundation of their friendship. It was silent until the recording ended and began playing snapping the two back into reality. That was that, it wasn’t mentioned for the rest of that night nor the following morning while Zach made breakfast- they had switched it up and spent the night at his house instead.

Alex leaned against the railing of the stairs watching Zach dance around the kitchen- he was creating his world-famous French toast. He slowly walked down the steps, “Good morning,” The brunette yawned making Zach look up pausing the music.

“Hm?”

“Good morning, Jesus, are you trying to wake up May?” He had slept over a few times and knew May- Zach's little sister- was always grumpy when she woke up, “Anyways, help me over there so I don’t bust my ass, Dempsey,” Zach did as he was told.

-

Alex sat alone in his room he hadn’t seen Zach in a week, after that strange day they just stopped talking and that made Alex sad sadder than he’d like to admit. He had hung out with Jessica a few times throughout the week but it wasn't as it was with Zach, the constant happiness Alex had never felt in his life sometimes he’d smile till his cheeks hurt, he felt more confident with himself.

You probably drove him away, his thoughts spoke to him, you did drive him away, everyone gets tired of you at some point. His brain kept pushing these thoughts towards him and he couldn't push them away and soon a tear fell and then another and then another until he was sobbing hysterically so hard he couldn't hear his phone ringing nor did he hear the knocking on his door until it busted open. His sad blue eyes looked up only to find Zach.

“What the fu-” He looked down at the crying boy, “Alex, what’s-”

“You got tired of me didn’t you?!” He shouted all of his sadness and anger pushing through his voice. “You hate me now don’t you?!”

“Wha- Alex? What do you mean?” He tried getting closer but Alex threw a pillow at him.

“Leave me alone! Just go!”

“I’m not leaving you, Alex,” He shook his head- his heart was heavy in his chest he was lying to Alex, all for what? Money?

“No go hang out with you’re real friends!”

“You are my real friends!” Zach said trying to reach for Alex only getting hand slapped away but that didn't stop him he took the crying boy in a hug he tried to push away from Zach but it was no use they stayed there in that moment for what seemed like hours.

“Why did you think that Alex?” Zach whispered against his neck, no answer to the question he just felt… Hurt? 

-

“You know,” Zach said leaning on his locker waiting for Alex to get dressed, “We should go to Monets,” Zach had to admit, he loved hanging out with his new found best friend, he loved it more than anything in the world. He loved the feeling in his stomach like the flutter of butterflies when the almost red-head hugged him, he loved the scent of Alex Standall, but he was nothing but confused. He was straight... Wasn’t he? I mean he and Hannah have done some things, if you’re picking up what he’s putting down, he’d always found women attractive never a stupid guy, but he just can’t help but think of Alex when he tried to drift to sleep when he tried to do anything. That’s what made this bet so hard to execute, they’re best friends but recently he’s noticed a shift in the friendship, not a bad a bad one, not at all actually. 

“If you’re planning to propose,” He said putting his shirt on, “You’ll be thoroughly disappointed, Dempsey,” He looked behind himself reaching for his cane, “It’s a no,” A mimicked a sad smile, the other boy held out his large hand for Alex to grab rolling his eyes.

“Ah, too bad, you could’ve had all the candy in the world,” The two carried on the joke until they got into the car. 

“What’s the song we’re listening to today, oh wise one?” Zach goofed around, looking over towards Alex with a smile.

“I don’t know man, I didn’t prepare,” The two laughed and just talked all the way to Monets something the two did often, but it was different it had a different feel to it, like it was a big world but it was there’s for the taking, Alex felt more normal than he had in forever and Zach felt... Happy, like his feet were so light, he didn’t have the weight of the tapes over him it was just he and Alex, Alex and Zach, it sounded... Right.

-

The two sat on the higher level of Monets, “Zach?” Zach looked up from the drink he had, had whipped cream on his face he felt it and licked a bit of it off before grabbing a napkin and wiping the rest of his face off. 

“Yeah?” Blue met brown. Alex was sure that this wasn’t just some stupid moment like the one the two shared on that late Saturday night, it was real. 

“Have you ever-” Alex struggled to find the words, “Questioned yourself, like uh... I don’t know, Sexuality wise, ya know like I thought I was straight with like Jessica and stuff and then... I don’t know what I’m saying-” Zach raised his brow at him.

“No, I get what you’re saying,” Zach nodded, “Haven’t we all?” He wanted to keep it vague, but it sounded douchy.

Alex took a sip of his hot chocolate, “So you have?” His big blue eyes stared straight into the soul of the eyes, just as dark as his the coffee underneath the whipped cream in Zach’s mug.

Zach shrugged, “Yeah, why do you ask?” Alex turned away to drink more of the hot chocolate.

“I don’t know, I just... I’m confused,” He probably stared so hard at the hot chocolate it grew eyes and stared right back at him.

“Alex?” 

“Hm?” He still didn’t look up.

“Who?”

He looked up and starred at Zach which answered the question, a smile spread across his face, “God, why are starring at me like that?” The two laughed, Zach and Alex. Yeah, that sounded right. 

-

When Zach woke up on the bed instead of the floor it felt right, he almost forgot about the stupid bet. “Hey,” Alex said his eyes fluttering open his voice raspy and deep.

“What are we?” Alex groaned turning away from Zach’s question.

“It’s too early for this,” 

“I’ll decide,” Zach chuckled, “We are boyfriends,” Alex turned back over squinting at Zach.

“Yeah okay, now shut the fuck up,” Zach reached his hand over capturing his hips into his long arms, “So we’re that couple?” Alex mumbled. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” The raven-haired boy laughed.

“Shut up, dude,” 

“Dude?” The two spent the rest of their morning laughing and talking, their first morning as a couple was... Sweet. 

-

Five months into the bet, the few people that knew about them teased them constantly- in the most loving way possible of course- about how disgustingly cute they were, and they were right, see when they were just best friends they were extremely obnoxious together and everyone knew it, but now they were the type of couple you and you’re boyfriend WISH they could be. 

It was almost their two month anniversary and Zach needed to get rid of that stupid tug at his heart, he wasn’t just a bet to him anymore, he was far more than that, “Alex wait in the car, I’ll be out in a sec,” He directed, Alex just nodded distracted by a game- a kept losing- on his phone, surely he was going to get bored of it.

He stepped on the stairs leading up to the Devil’s house, knocking on the Devil’s front door. The car began to get too hot for Alex’s liking so he had to roll down the window, little did he know everything he was about to hurt would break his heart in two. “Hey buddy,” Bryce smiled wickedly it made Zach want to barf but he kept his cool. “What’s he doing here?” He pointed his chin towards Zachary’s car. 

“That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” The boy was nervous his heart in his throat. 

“You fell for him didn’t you Zachy?” Bryce laughed through his nose, “Or... Oh shit, you’re dating him aren’t you?” 

Zach’s face fell he looked anywhere but Bryce’s face, “I-”

“He was just a bet, I can’t believe it...” He pushed Zach’s shoulder, “You’re a fucking fag,” His smile grew.

“A bet?” Alex was slowly making his way over toward’s Zach and Bryce, “A bet!” Alex’s breathes were short and shallow. 

“No, Alex- I swear-”

Bryce smirked enjoying the show,” Don’t you ever fucking come near me ever again! Fuck you, you’re a piece of shit!” His voice cracked as a single tear fell from his eye. 

“Alex, I’m sorry I was going to tell-”

“I- So, I was just some bet! I was a fucking bet to you!” He exclaimed trying to hobble off he wanted to never see anyone ever again. 

Zach chased after the limping boy, “No, Alex! In the begging you were but Alex.. I love you!” The boy exclaimed all of his cards on the table.

“Prove it. Prove that you love me! Or are you just gonna lie to me again?” He was so angry, bitter. 

“I will! I’ll prove it, whatever it takes.” 

-

Alex slammed his door shut throwing items around his room tears tracking down his face, “I’m a fucking idiot!” He shouted trying to pick up the bear but ultimately failing so he just threw himself onto the excessively large bear sobbing into it as fell asleep, he wore his heart on his sleeve and in return he got burned. 

-

Alex sat with Jessica and Clay during lunch telling them what happened, as more of their group came he told all of them, and then there was Zach, “Oh look,” Ryan said rolling his eyes taking a bite out his salad. 

“Alex- I-”

“Get the fuck out of here Zach,” Clay snarled, he was furious, first he hurt Hannah and now Alex. 

“No, I have to prove something to him.” He shot daggers at the rest of the table.

The lunchroom went silent as Zach began to speak rather loudly, “I, Zach Dempsey, fucked up.” He was scared, terrified even but he couldn’t let the same thing that happened to Hannah happen to Alex, he just couldn’t. “I made a bet with a friend...” He spoke rather biterly, “And I had the five months left of my junior year to make Alex Standall fall in love with me,” He gulped, “I hurt him,” He explained further, “But, I want everyone to know, I wanted to tell him- I was scared, extremely,” He bit his lip, “I was a coward, but I ended up falling in love with the fucking most beautiful,” He looked down towards Alex who looked like a deer in headlights,”Person ever, and I don’t want to hurt him ever again,” He sighed, “So, here I am, just a boy asking for you’re forgivness, I will work for the rest of my life for you to forgive me Alex Standall, I love you,” 

Alex shook his head tearing up, “Fuck you, Zach!” Zach looked taken back, but it’s not like he expected it, “Fuck you for taking my sadness and making so fucking happy okay, I love you!” 

I guess you could say the rest was history. 

[sweetnestor]

12 Days | Chapter 6.2

Two guys that lowkey hate each other are forced to walk in each other’s shoes in order to learn a lesson.

***in collaboration with @themarkiplierexperience

lmao soz its not actually x reader we’re just desperate for attention haaaa

previous

Tom’s eyes bolted open from the sharp movements next to him. He had fallen asleep on his side, facing away from Bella, only to be awoken by her. He turned around and looked at her; She was twitching in her sleep. She hummed and turned, sounding distressed. It was very bizarre.

Hesitating at first, Tom gently shook her shoulder. It didn't wake her up, but it did stop her twitching. He sighed in relief and turned back around, curling up under the sheets. However, his drooping eyes opened again at the feeling of an arm going around his waist.

“You're sleeping weird,” mumbled the soft, sleepy voice.

The hell does that mean? Whatever, Tom assumed the position anyway. He turned so he was facing Bella and he wrapped his arms around her. She nuzzled into his chest and relaxed into him, like sleeping with the love of her life was all she needed to recover from that dream she was having.

Was it bad that he kind of wished her was holding her as himself? Not that he had suddenly developed feelings for Bella after knowing her for 2 days; It wasn’t really her that was the issue. When was the last time any girl wanted to sleep in Tom’s arms? When was the last time he was innocently in bed with a girl? Those late nights with Zendaya hardly ended up like this, and that was usually his fault. Usually they were in his car or her’s as well, so there was no room for cuddling.

Not only that, Tom was just reluctant to have any physical contact that wasn't sexual. He wasn't sure why. Zendaya was honestly perfect. She had never done anything wrong in any aspect. She complied with his stupid “rules” despite that it wasn't what she wanted. Now, Tom was feeling guilty for it. Maybe he was just afraid of the public backlash. Maybe he wanted to save at least one thing from being put under the public microscope and just went about it the wrong way. Maybe when he was back in his own body, Tom could try to fix things with her. In the meantime, he had to date this pink haired girl who twitched and groaned in her sleep like she was possessed. Maybe he could learn from this relationship.

A lightbulb went off in Tom’s head. Was this the reason for the switch? Did he have to properly learn about a healthy relationship? He tried to imagine what Sonji the psychic would say about that. She would probably be super vague and hit him with a dab. Or she would actually hit him with a pack of tarot cards.

Eventually, Tom fell asleep and dreamt about switching back with Ethan. It went horribly wrong, and their faces morphed into something straight out of a horror movie. Melty skin, multiple limbs, voices crying out for death. He could hear Sonji laughing obnoxiously in the background. It was a weird dream.

He was pleased to find that he awoke naturally. No obnoxious alarms. Olivia wasn’t here to rapidly knock on his door and yell at him to get up. Harrison wasn’t here to literally pull him out of bed. There wasn’t a demanding schedule to follow. Tom shifted in the sheets and stretched his arms above his head, feeling strangely relaxed. That is, until he remembered where he was, and what exactly he had to do today.

Bella was nowhere to be seen. Tom immediately sat up, looking around the room. He heard voices coming from the living room, which only prompted him to grab his phone and check in with Ethan. For once, he wasn't left in the dark, and was pleased to find a string of messages. The first five were sent the night before.

“Got yelled at by Olivia but it seems like the schedule wasn’t completely fucked so that’s good I guess.”

“Harrison somehow knew about Zendaya already so I just kinda rolled with it”

“I might have made things worse for you with zendaya but I got her off my back for the time being. She’s all yours when we switch back.”

“Also yes i am aware that my gf is the best gn dude.”

“Don’t forget to try to edit some stuff tomorrow we’re not all made of money like you 🙃”

Tom sighed in relief, despite that that last passive aggressive text caused a wave of anxiety to surge in his stomach. Today, he was a YouTuber. Judging by what he had observed from the three other YouTubers he's been spending time with, it involved a lot of things he knew nothing about. As long as he kept a confident and positive mindset, this should be a breeze. Tom kept reading.  There were two more messages, sent earlier that morning. The words Tom read made his stomach knot up.

“Why are all your friends so much cooler than you?” it read. “Let Everyone™ try the suit one,.  direcotr didn’t seem to mind tho.”

“Oh man,” Tom whispered to himself. The mental image of tall and lanky Harrison trying on the Spidey suit did give him a right laugh, but also a small wave of anxiety. Had the executives not taken back the costume? And Tom wasn’t there to witness it?

Shaking it off, he replied to Ethan.

“Worked things out with Bella, should be fine until we switch back,” he wrote. “Thanks for talking to Daya. Oh, and Harrison knows everything that goes on with me. Have fun with that!”

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened. Tom jumped, nearly losing grasp of his phone. His heart racing, he looked over at Bella, who was mildly startled by Tom’s sudden move. Her eyes scanned over his body, the way he looked like a deer in headlights, the way he was clutching his phone like a lifeline.

“Morning, love,” Tom greeted, his voice embarrassingly higher than normal.

“Morning… didn't mean to spook you,” Bella replied with a nervous chuckle. “How long have you been up?”

“Uh, I've only just woken up.” He climbed out of bed and scanned the ground for his jeans. “Have you seen my trous- uh, pants?”

Bella gave him a look, but she went over to the bureau and opened up a drawer, pulling out a fresh pair of black jeans. She threw them over to Tom wordlessly. “Don't be an outfit repeater, chulo. Get ready, we're gonna go have lunch and then we're gonna take Jack and Signe to the airport.”

“Oh, they're leaving today?” Tom asked.

“I know, I wish they could stay longer. I miss having Jack as a roommate. The apartment feels so quiet and empty since he moved out.” She sighed as she left the room.

Tom raised an eyebrow at that statement. After putting his pants on, he shot another text to Ethan.

“So what's the deal with Bella and that Sean guy? Is he someone I need to keep an eye on?”

~

It was one miracle to survive a night with three strangers in an unknown apartment. It was another miracle that Tom survived lunch in a public restaurant with these three strangers. At the last moment, however, he remembered Ethan's nut allergy and made sure to stay away from anything that involved peanuts. Part of him feared he would forget about that particular detail and accidentally kill himself. Or, Ethan's body. Could he, Tom, die in this body?

Best not to think about it.

Anyway, he made it through midday. Later on, Bella was leading the way to the airport. Tom offered to drive, so as to seem like a decent boyfriend, but it only made Bella and Jack laugh. At least Tom wasn't the only one left in the dark about that; Signe seemed just as mildly confused as well.

The car pulled up to the front of one of the entrances. At least LAX was something Tom was familiar with. To think Ethan was here earlier… Thinking about him made Tom check his phone again. Nothing yet.

The four got out of the car. Sean and Signe retrieved their luggage from the trunk before saying their goodbyes. It was weird. They kept looking at Tom like they truly knew him, like he was actually their friend. But he's not Ethan Nestor. You've got the wrong guy, sorry.

“Thanks for everything, Baller,” Sean said as he hugged the pink haired girl. Again, Tom couldn't help but feel suspicious of their actions, despite that Bella hugged Signe next.

“You know you guys are welcome at any time,” Bella said. “Whether it's for uni, or whenever you guys feel like, I'll always have that extra room for you!”

“Ethan!” Sean exclaimed as he opened his arms. “My little stinky boy!”

Tom returned the gesture and hugged him. “It was good seeing you again, mate. Have a safe flight.”

“Alright, mate,” he replied in a mock British accent.

“My turn!” Signe piped up as she came in between the two boys. “Bye, Ethan!” She stood on her toes to hug him around his shoulders.

After that, the couple ventured into the building, their luggage in tow. Bella and Tom watched them as they leaned against the side of the car. Bella lied her head on his shoulder for a moment.

"Ya los extraño,” she sighed.

“Yeah,” Tom replied even though he had no idea what she said. Then, he changed the subject. “Hey, can you take me home? I gotta start editing.”

Her hand went into his, squeezing tightly. She didn't say anything at first, which was a little off putting. But she agreed, let go of his hand, and went to the driver's side. Before starting the car, she turned to him.

“You don't wanna see Helena?” she asked, a concerned look on her face. “After what happened the other day, and after what you told me yesterday?”

Who the everloving fuck is Helena?

“No, I'm fine,” Tom said as he checked his phone yet again. “It's fine.”

“You sure? I have an appointment with her, but you can take it if you really need to,” Bella gently pressed.

He shook his head. “Really, I'm good. I just really need to work on some videos.”

She watched him for a second, but then turned the engine over. “Well, you are starting to sound like yourself again.”

Thank god.

Traveling twenty miles took a lot longer than it should have, given the amount of traffic. Bella handled it like a pro, not getting irritated or annoyed at the other drivers, whereas Tom wanted to take control and navigate the whole ride out of sheer irritation. He knew better now, though. Apparently, Ethan wasn't allowed to drive.

Tom enjoyed Bella’s singing too, even if she was singing depressing songs. He stared out the window and listened to the pretty voice, reflecting on his life and his choices, missing Zendaya, missing his own fans. Missing people he hadn't thought about in ages…

And then an upbeat song started playing, sending Tom back to reality. He looked down at his phone again and unlocked it. Curious, he opened up the Twitter app. The feed wasn't anything special; Just stuff about gaming, various celebrities, and other YouTubers. Then, feeling a little bold, he decided to type out a new tweet.

“Had to say goodbye to Sean and Signe. So good spending time with those smelly boys again. I miss em’ already”

Replies started coming in almost immediately. It was much like Tom’s own feed. He didn’t realize Ethan had fans of his own. He chuckled in disbelief, which caught his girlfriend's attention.

“What is it?” she asked.

Shit. Tom scrolled and tapped a random tweet, quickly skimming it.

“I put an apostrophe in the wrong place and everyone's attacking me,” he told her as he replied to another person.

“That's the Internet for you,” Bella said in response.

After a few more minutes, she finally pulled up in front of Ethan's apartment building. Tom took off his seat belt and grabbed the door handle before Bella put her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure you don't wanna see Helena?” she asked him seriously.

“Positive,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I'll call you later, okay?”

“Text me,” she corrected. “Oh, and don't forget about tomorrow!”

He nodded like he knew exactly what was going on. He was a good boyfriend who would consult with the actual boyfriend about tomorrow's date. Finally, Tom kissed her goodbye and got out of the car.

~

If any of Ethan’s friends saw his current Internet history, he probably would have gotten fired. No, not because he was searching every bit of freaky porn ever, but because each link was to a guide on how to use Adobe Premiere. How to edit YouTube videos. How to put a facecam on gameplay. How to do literally anything that had to do with YouTube.

Ethan hadn’t made it any easier on Tom, either. Any video file he had on his hard drive were titled different variations of “alkdfhkj.” Oh, and they were all either Photoshopped pictures of Ethan in different video games, or already completed videos that were on his YouTube channel. Where was the “pile of unedited footage” he had talked about? Tom inspected the camera behind one of the monitors and took out the SD card. On there, he found a video of Ethan talking about a game called Flix and Chill 2: Millennials. Great, now he had to find the actual gameplay.

It took more hours that what was probably necessary, given that he ended up with an eleven minute video. It was mostly a bunch of tedious work, removing bits and pieces where Ethan fumbled on his words and things that dragged on too long. Tom was by no means an expert on what could and couldn’t stay in the video, but he did his best. He wondered who would be watching this, and if they’ll be able to tell if it was different from what Ethan normally did.

Nevertheless, Tom put it up on Ethan’s channel. Since it was already late in the day, he scheduled it to go up the next morning. Managing the actual YouTube account was much easier than just about anything else involved in this “career.” Well, it wasn’t difficult as much as it was boring. Tom liked to think that he would be more comfortable actually recording videos rather than editing them. Mark’s got his own editors, why doesn’t Ethan?

Speaking of, Tom pulled out his phone again, sending what was probably the third or fourth message in a row to the guy. “Finished editing a video! You can tell me how amazing it is tomorrow morning when it goes up :P”

One down, several more to go.

_______

tag list: @marie-is-in-the-dark @beardedsteveslut  @ohsnapitzmoony

_______

next

[itwascrabpeople]

start a craze (ignite the airwaves) // septiplier

Boys in a band, touring and writing songs and pining. AKA Septiplier Band!AU, where they all meet when they're teenages and start a band.

Also on AO3.

DISCLAIMER: Any situations written involving real people are fictional, and are in no way meant to be actual implications on their personal lives, s'just for fun! So please press that back button if any of this makes you uncomfortable!

“Hey, you’re the Irish exchange student, right?” Bob asks, handing him a can of coke.

“Half-right,” Jack says, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. “We moved here from Ireland. Signe’s the exchange student. People keep gettin’ that mixed up.”

They’re in the basement of Bob’s house, it’s crowded by instruments and old furniture, including a single couch pushed into the corner.

“Sorry,” Bob says, pushing up his glasses. “Wade said he met you on Friday and wanted you for the band. So you’ve gotta be pretty good, huh.”

“I guess, he was sick today apparently, but said I should still come audition,” Jack tells him, then nods at the bass in Bob’s hands. “You’re the bassist?”

“Yeah, I have no real musical talent,” Bob laughs, “but I’m passable at bass, thus Mark dubbed me the bassist. Sorry about the room, by the way, my parents are the only ones that let us play.”

“Nah, It’s cool,” Jack says, “thanks for the coke.”

“No problem,” Bob says, smiling, “you can show us what you got as soon as Mark gets down here.”

“Already here, Bobby m’boy!”

Jack turns, and is faced with a strange rush of something at the sight of this Mark guy. Probably because of how close he’s standing to him.

“Whoa.”

“Oh hi, I’m Mark, I sing and write lyrics and stuff,” Mark says, taking a step back and sticking out his hand. His voice is deeper than Jack would’ve expected it to be. “You’re Sean, right? You're gonna be in our band?”

“Jack, actually,” he corrects as he shakes Mark’s hand, feeling lightheaded. “And… you haven’t even heard me play yet.”

“Oh!” Mark smiles warmly, then sidesteps. “Sorry man, go ahead!”

“Um, anything in particular? Any styles?” For some reason he can’t stop staring dumbly at this Mark guy. With his stupid shark-fin hair, and his stupid eyes, and his stupid big friendly smile, and his stupid hot voice. It has to be because of how stupid it all is. Definitely.

“Whatever you like, man,” Mark says, and there’s that warm smile again.

Jack goes and sits at the drumkit, and, with one last look at Mark, he plays.

 *

They gel pretty quickly, him and Mark. He’s shy about letting Jack see his lyrics at first but once he does Jack swears he can practically hear the songs.

He gives suggestions about moving some lines around, and when he tries out a simple beat Mark starts humming along, and when Ethan comes down he starts working out the guitar and bass sections immediately.

After that first night of practise, Mark beams at him like he’s made of magic and insists that Jack comes to his place the next day. And Jack - with his heart caught in his throat - of course he’s not going to say no.

He realises he’s pretty much doomed from here on out.

 *

“So you’ll do it right? You’ll be in the band?” Mark asks, eyes trained on Jack like if he looks away he’ll bolt. They’re standing on the porch of Mark’s house, waiting for Jack’s brother to come pick him up. They’ve just finished their second band practise, and Jack has to admit that they sound pretty good.

“Well.. I didn’t just come here for the food,” he says, scratching the back of his head. He looks down at the sealed container of leftovers Mark’s mom insisted that he take. “But I’ll have to next time if your Mom makes whatever this is called again, yum.”

“Kimbap, Wade likes it too so she always makes it for lunch when he’s over,” Mark tells him, then tilts his head, “So that’s a yes?”

“O’ course it’s a yes,” Jack smiles. He sees his brother’s car drive into the street. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, great! Y’know, we’re gonna be really awesome.” Mark tells him, sounding so sincere that Jack can’t help but to believe him. Mark grins widely and, for some reason, ruffles Jack’s hair before heading back inside.

Jack tells his brother to shut up when he asks why he’s blushing.

 *

“If one more douchebag asks me to play with his drumstick, I’m quittin’ the band.”

“Jack noo,” Mark says blandly, staring at his phone. “This is gonna be our Behind The Music breakup, isn’t it? It was all over after one gig at a sleazy bar.”

“I’m surprised they even let us play,” Bob says, loading a speaker into the back of the van. “Tell Danny those fake IDs were legit.”

“Yeah, maybe too legit,” Jack says, shuddering. “Agh, one guy’s breath smelt like alcohol, vomit, and regret - how’d they miss the whole underage thing up close and personal? I’m practically prepubescent!”

Bob tilts his head. “Yeah, you look sixteen, and some guys are into that,” he says, cringing. “Creepy guys.”

Mark peeks up from his phone to look at Jack. “Nobody like, touched you or anything, right?”

Jack looks at him, noting the hint of concern in his voice. “Nah, there wasn’t no bad touch, thankfully.”

“Good,” is all Mark says, looking down again. “Or I’d’a, you know…”

Jack clasps his hands together and bats his eyelashes at him. “Would you’ve defended my honour, Markipoo?”

What Mark says sounds like ‘shut up’ as he turns away with a blush forming on his cheeks, but what Jack hears is ‘yes’.

 *

They got close to it once, earlier on. They were drunk and camping out in someone’s living room between shows. Wade and Ethan were passed out on the couches, snoring, while Bob had opted to sleep in the van. Jack was seventeen, and at the time he thought underage drinking made him cool as shit.

“You know, you’re my best friend, Jack,” Mark had said sincerely. He was glassy eyed and his face was all red, it tended to get really flushed whenever he drank.

“Dude,” Jack said, leaning up on his elbow. “You’re like, my first best friend ever . But you’re also the best one. Y’know what I’m sayin’?”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed, rolling onto his side to face Jack properly. Without his glasses and his hair all mussed up he looks really young, and sort of vulnerable.

“I never wanna lose that, you know?” Mark went on.” What we have… it’s different, it’s ours, it’s... special.”

Ordinarily Jack would have laughed at that, cheesy as it is, but being an emotionally drunk teenager, and Mark looking at him like he meant every word - he took it to heart.

“Yeah,” Jack sighed, and Mark moving in closer felt like another reality, a slower one where all Jack could do was lean in too and close his eyes.

Then Wade snorted really loudly, and Mark just laughed and laid back down as if nothing world-shattering was just about to happen.

And at that moment, Jack remembers thinking to himself, ‘oh no, I really love him’.

 *

They have a hit on their hands, their manager says. They don’t believe it till they’re out on the road, and Bob turns up the radio. Wade nearly swerves them off the road in shock.

The opening line; I was crawling around in my head in the haze of a trance…

Mark catches Jack’s hand and starts singing along loudly, at stoplights and in backstreets. And it’s the last time they drive to a show in that shitty van.

 *

Jack sighs and sets down his drumsticks. Wade and Ethan jostle the bus from the outside, trying to push it out of a ditch as Bob revs the engine.

“Y’know what they say,” Jack says, “if the bus is a-rockin’...”

“I’ve got my cock in,” Mark finishes, grinning at Jack from across the table.

“You’re such a moron,” Jack says, but he’s laughing too, and looks out the window just in time to see Ethan charge at the bus. “Although, not as moronic as those two, apparently.”

“I dunno, I kind of admire their optimism.”

Wade slams onto the bus then, huffing and sweaty as he looks at them with wide eyes. “You guys have just been sitting here this whole time?!”

“Hey, we helped!” Jack says, leaning back. “Like, the first couple o’ minutes.”

“Then we realised that none of us have the manpower to move this thing,” Mark chimes in, and flexes his arm out at Wade. “Not even my huge muscley manliness could help, it’s hopeless.”

Jack mentally congratulates himself for only glancing at Mark’s bare arm as he nods. “Y-yeah! Not our fault ya idiots are still trying.”

“Well we need to do something!” Wade says exasperatedly, a hand pressed to his forehead. “We have no freaking reception and we’re out in the middle of nowhere!”

“Actually,” Jack starts slowly just as Ethan clambers back onto the bus, “I got a signal and called a local tow company.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us that?” Ethan’s skinny form slumps right onto the table. “I can’t feel my arms. Or my legs. Or most of my upper body.”

“We liked watching you try.” Mark shrugs, petting Ethan’s blue head consolingly. “It was admirable... in a sorta fruitless way.”

“And I really thought you had it like eleven minutes in,” Jack adds, nodding at Wade who is just watching them with quiet rage. His eye’s twitching - does it normally do that? “So at least I believed in you.”

 *

 Jack dyes his hair green in the middle of their tour, and Mark decides dying his red would be cool. Wade says they look like Christmas one night on stage between songs.

“Form of -  mistletoe!” Mark says, coming ‘round to Jack behind his kit and shaking his hair in his face. Jack laughs and shoves him back playfully, and the crowd loves it, cheering.

“I need a haircut, man,” Mark says. “Hey Jack, what would your superhero name be?”

“Um,” Jack says into his rarely-used mic. “JackSepticEye’s what they called me in Ireland, ‘cause I had a septic eye once, and m’name’s Jack.”

“Mine is Markiplier, apparently.” Mark shrugs. “That was my username on myspace I think, like eighty years ago. The fans found it. Meeerkiplier.”

“Those are both shit hero names,” Bob says, strumming his bass as the crowd laughs. “You’d be shit super heroes. Mark Septic Plier Tank? The hell is that? Besides, you’re both too short.”

“Hey!” Ethan says indignantly, and someone in the crowd screams “I love you Ethan!”

“Eh, whatever, shush, shush ,” Mark commands, waving his hands down. Once the crowd is quiet enough, he leans in and sings the first lines of one of their sillier songs, “Hate to tell you honey, but Wilford Warfstache killed a man…”

 *

“Ohh home sweet not-the-road!” Mark exclaims as soon as he’s through the door, making his way towards the kitchen and flopping onto the counter. “Oh, overpriced kitchenette, I’ve missed you so.”

“Dude, I forgot you had a house!” Jack says as he walks in after him. “And a kitchen!” He glances at Mark and goes to hug the fridge since the counter’s taken.

“I forgot what not having to disinfect every surface before you touched it was like,” Mark says, voice muffled.

Jack opens the fridge and sighs. “I forgot food wasn’t only provided by truckstops and questionable club owners.”

“I forgot that you guys don’t shut up,” Tyler yells from the living room. “Like. Ever.”

“Tyler!” They both say excitedly, and run to greet him. It’s an awkward six-armed hug, but they manage.

“Aw,” Mark says, “I forgot what having a surly roommate dictating my every move was like.”

“Hey Tyler!” Ethan says, opening his arms to join the group hug.

“Wait, never mind,” Mark grunts as he’s crushed between them all. It’s a good day.

 *

“I guess the songs are okay, but babe, do they have to be so… down ?” Mel makes a sad pouty face, as though Mark can just rewrite the whole album for her when they’re at a party celebrating that it just went platinum. God, Jack hates her.

“Ah-hum, well the songs are pretty personal, yeah,” Mark says, looking down at his drink. “I thought “Calling Doctor Schneeplestein” was pretty upbeat though.”

“Yeah I guess,” she says with a grimace. “The drum solo was a bit much - no offense Jack, but yeah.”

“Oh, offense taken, Mel,” Jack says, a fake grin plastered on his face as he sips his drink - whiskey and coke - and murmurs, “Ya shady bitch ,” into his glass. If Mel hears this she doesn’t show it, and proceeds to ignore him like she usually does.

She’s entwining her pinky with Mark’s, using her cutesy voice as she says, “C’mon babe, I'm dying for a drink.” Mark looks to Jack for some reason, opening his mouth like he has something to say before she drags him away.

Eventually Wade comes over, bottle of beer in his hand as he leans against the wall beside Jack.

Wade bumps him with his shoulder. “You holding up okay, buddy? I feel like you’ve had that glass half-full all night.”

Jack barely hears him, watching Mel parade Mark around the room like a trophy. “Is it just me, or is she the worst?”

“Who?” Wade asks, then follows Jack’s line of sight and rolls his eyes. “Oh .”

Jack turns to him at that. “What?”

“Nothing,” Wade says, taking a swig of his beer. “Only... you know you say that about all the girls he dates, right?”

“I do not,” Jack says indignantly, setting his glass down. “I thought Amy was cool.”

“Yeah, after she married Kathryn and moved to Connecticut.”

“She was cool before that!”

“Before she dated Mark, you mean,” Wade says, a small smile on his face. “Then it was all, ‘man, has Amy been kind of an asshole lately, or what’. don’t you remember?”

“This is different. Mel has her head shoved so far up her own ass I’m surprised she can still communicate verbally,” Jack says, and unconsciously starts to fiddle with his wristbands. “Mark doesn't need someone like that. He needs someone that isn’t vapid, someone that actually cares about him, that gets him like...”

“Like… you?” The smile is evident in Wade’s voice alone.

“Shut up,” Jack says, blushing as he picks his drink back up and downs the rest of it. He can feel Wade’s eyes on him, but refuses to look up.

“It’s okay that you’re in love with him, you know,” Wade tells him, and Jack swears he can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. There’s no way he can know - he’s hidden it so well.

“Wh-what,” Jack says quickly, breathlessly, “I don’t… you don’t… I don’t.” His hands won’t stop shaking so he clenches them at his sides, hoping it goes unnoticed.

Wade places a heavy hand on his shoulder, and somehow it sets Jack at ease, makes him feel a little more grounded.

“It is okay, Jack. You have to know that,” is all Wade says, then after a smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder, he walks away, probably to go find Molly.

Jack takes a deep breath, and after a few minutes of settling himself down he decides it’s time to go order another drink.

 *

It’s not like Jack just pines for Mark and doesn’t date other people. There was Signe in high school for like two weeks. Then Robin. And Jack will count Felix even though that never really went anywhere.

So he’s not totally pathetic. He just... can’t help that his stupid heart doesn’t leap at the thought of anyone but Mark.

And if that idiot can’t see how gone Jack is like bloody everyone else can, well, he has to figure that it’s on purpose.

 *

“It will, Bob, it’ll fuck up the band,” Jack hears Mark say from the other side of the bus. He thought they were asleep. It’s like three in the morning and they have a gig tomorrow, but Jack woke up needing to pee and the great outdoors seemed a fine choice for a toilet.

“You’re an idiot if you think something like a real relationship is gonna fuck with the band,” Bob says.

Ah, Jack figures they’re talking about Mel. They'd broken up just over a week ago, Jack doesn’t know the specifics as to why, but Mark hasn't seemed all that upset about it anyway.

“Being in love is a good thing, Mark. You can have good things.”

Something about the way Bob says this reminds Jack of what Wade said to him that night at the party. It's okay for you to be in love with him, you know.

“I don’t know,” Mark says, sighing. “I don’t know and I hate that I don’t know.”

“Look, you guys, together,” Bob says, “it just... works. It always worked.” Jack hates him a little for this. Since when is Bob so gung-ho about Mark and Mel getting back together?

“And when it doesn’t?”

"If anything actually happens because you finally grow some fucking balls,” Bob says, and Mark chuckles a little at this. “If something does go wrong. We’ll still be a band. You’ll still be my friend.”

“At least I’ll have that going for me,” Mark laughs weakly.

“Yeah, at least.”

Jack quietly heads back onto the bus, but he doesn’t manage much sleep.

The next day, Mel releases a sex tape of her and Mark.

 *

“Oh…” Jack says, and for some reason he can’t bring himself to look in Mark’s direction. “No it’s not like that… we’re uh…”

“...Not together... like that,” Mark finishes for him, and for a long moment no one says anything. Even the lady interviewing them seems to sense the tension as she glances between them.

“Well the fans sure do “ship” it, haha,” she says, tapping her pen against her clipboard. “So, any real romance happening in your lives, or does the touring keep you busy?”

“It does keep us all very busy, but we’d like to keep that sorta stuff personal, regardless,” Bob answers, then smiles innocently. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not! It must be so overwhelming having the spotlight suddenly on you,” she says, faux-sympathy written all over her face. “Mark, I know you’ve been dealing with some heavy media attention lately.”

“Is that a question?” Jack snaps, already frustrated with how this interview has gone. When he feels everyone’s eyes on him he looks away, face flushed.

“It’s just that you’ve all been so... quiet,” she says carefully, “Which is understandable, but I’m sure your fans would love a comment from you Mark, and of course from your fellow band members.” She smiles, and it reminds Jack of a bloodthirsty shark circling its prey.

“What do you want to know,” Mark says finally, eyes downcast. “Did I know she taped it? Did my “fellow band members” watch it?” He looks up at her then, pure fury in his voice. “What? Am I into other kinky shit? Am I really that hung or was it the camera angle? What - what do you want from me.”

“This interview’s done,” Bob says, putting a hand on Mark’s shoulder, to silence or comfort him - Jack doesn’t know, maybe both. “You’re not using any of that.”

The lady laughs - laughs . “You don’t get--”

“You’re not using any of it,” Bob says again firmly, towering over her, and the lady shuts up and nods tightly.

“Well that was…” Jack finds himself saying, but Mark is already standing and walking away.

 *

“Get out,” Jack says, trying to pull Mark out of his bunk. “You aren’t sulking here the whole goddamn tour, Mark.”

“Fuck you, yes I am.” Mark resists, rolling away from Jack and - with his extra muscle - manages to pull him halfway into the bunk with him.

“Ow , you fuckin’ ass,” Jack swears. “Tear my arm out its fucking socket, why dont’cha.”

“Hello, Tyler,” Ethan says into his phone, sitting at the table on the bus. “Hi, mommy and daddy are fighting again, I’m scared.”

“Fuckin’ - that’s it.” Jack climbs the rest of the way into the bunk, squeezing himself into the tight space between the ceiling and Mark’s body.

“What’re you - get the fuck out, Jack!” Mark squirms, but only manages to fit them closer together. There’s a lot of kicking and elbowing but Jack manages to hold Mark down. Even if it’s in a precarious, and somewhat suggestive way.

“Dude, I am in prime position to knee you in the balls, do not test me.”

“Nevermind,” Ethan says loudly. “I actually think they’re having sex. Yeah I know right? Finally.”

“Shut up!” They both say at once, and Jack manages to pull back a couple inches to stare Mark down.

“The tape isn’t your fault,” he states simply and firmly as he can.

Mark’s face reddens, and he starts pushing at Jack in earnest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Sean --”

“The questions aren’t your fault either. Fuck’s sake, Mark, we’re a team. When shit happens to you - it happens to all of us.”

Mark sinks back down and avoids Jack’s eyes. “Exactly,” he says, “and now you guys are catching all the shit meant for me. All our work - our music is ruined because of me .”

“No. That’s not what I mean.” Jack shakes his head, keeps his hand pressed to Mark’s chest to keep him still. “The music is the music, it doesn’t matter how people find it, or what they associate it with. It doesn’t even matter whether they like it or not.” Jack swallows when Mark finally looks up at him. “It is what it is, and one stupid sex tape isn’t going to change that.”

Mark is silent for a moment, then quietly asks, “And us?”

“The band is us, stupid,” Jack says, huffing. “It’s our friendship, it’s you and me. Would the band be ruined because I fucked like, I’unno, a german horse?”

“Ew, maybe,” Mark says cringing slightly, but his tone is light.

“Nah, you’d forgive me, wouldn’t ya?” Jack shuffles his body down a bit, but stops when his thigh slides against Mark’s. “We’d even write a song about it.”

“We probably would,” Mark says faintly. “Do you? Forgive me, I mean.”

Jack frowns at this. How can Mark possibly believe that any of this is his fault? “Dude, there’s nothing that I need to forgive. Mel’s a fuckin’ bitch and she screwed you over. And even if you yourself released a bajillion freaky sex tapes, I still wouldn’t be mad. Horrifyingly impressed maybe, but never mad.”

“Yeah?” Mark asks, half-smiling at Jack now in a way that makes his heart get caught in his throat.

“Yeah,” Jack says, biting hack the urge to lean down close and brush his lips against Mark's. “Now, me and the german horse on the other hand…”

Mark doesn’t say anything to that, but he does pull Jack down into a heartfelt hug. And if Jack maybe savours it for longer than he should, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.

 *

 After the tour ends, they hang out at Mark and Tyler’s place in LA, laughing and drinking every night. It’s just Ethan and Jack since Bob and Wade flew back to Ohio, so Tyler insists that they crash with him and Mark before their international tour starts.

It feels so normal, like how it was before all the crazy fame and attention.

“You’re gonna tell him, right?” Ethan asks when Jack lies down next to him on the pull-out in the living room.

Jack doesn’t answer, hopes that Ethan will just think he’s drunk and already dead asleep.

“You’ve gotta, dude,” Ethan says anyway, and Jack feels him tug at the sheets when he turns on his side. “You’ll be happy.”

Jack thinks about it the rest of the night, thinks maybe it’s time to get this weight off his chest. But he doesn’t think he can. When Jack really thinks about it he loved Mark the minute they met. When he was fifteen. And Jack’s man enough now that he can accept that he loves him, probably always will. But he couldn't bare actually saying it and having Mark not feel the same way.

It’s better this way, he thinks as he drifts into sleep. Less heartache.

Not an hour later, Tyler is shaking him awake and saying, “Something’s wrong with Mark, get up!”

 *

“You moron,” Jack says, and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Mark continues to sleep, it’s so quiet except for the rhythmic beeps of the machines he’s hooked up to. A really cool nurse let him in when she saw he was practically lying on the floor in the waiting room.

Jack sent the others home after everything was sorted, but couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Do you even know how bad I would’ve killed you if you died,” he says to Mark’s sleeping face. His chest hurts at just the sight of the tubes in his nose and dark bags under his eyes. “Like, super dead.”

Mark collapsed, turns out his usual minor reaction to alcohol wasn’t so minor at all. It did something to his heart. Jack only got the gist of it - that Mark plus alcohol from now on is a no-go.

“This is the part where I tell you I… I’m in love with you, or whatever.” Jack sniffles and takes his hand in his, careful of the needle stuck in the back of it. “Well nope, in fact, fuck you. You scared the shit outta me. Us. Half your family’s flying down tomorrow, by the way.”

Mark continues to sleep, his hand is heavy and warm in Jack’s as he gently holds it.

“What would I do without you?” Jack says quietly, then, even quieter, “I do love you, ya fuckin’ bastard.”

“Are you always this articulate?” Mark’s voice is gravelly and weak, and his eyes are closed when Jack nearly snaps his neck to look at him.

“Mark?” Jack holds his breath, and then the corners of Mark’s mouth lift up to a smile. “Oh you fuckin’ asshole!” It takes a lot of willpower to not smack him on the chest.

“Be gentle with me,” Mark says meekly, opening his eyes, “my heart stopped or something. I’m delicate.” He squeezes Jack’s fingers which cause him to blush.

“My ass you’re delicate,” is all Jack can say. His face feels hot and he’d really like to pull his hand away, but Mark is holding on like a vice.

“Did you mean it?” Mark asks, and for a second it feels like Jack’s heart stops.

He can’t bring himself to speak, or even look at Mark, as he nods minutely.

“Will you look at me,” Mark croaks, and his fingers are on Jack’s chin, gently turning his face. Their eyes meet, and just fuck Jack’s life, it’s a goddamn hallmark movie.

“Well,” Jack says, though he doesn’t know why, and swallows at the lump in his throat.

Mark smiles at him. “That was really cliche,” he says, and Jack tugs his hand free, hurt. “And I’m really fucking in love with you.”

Jack doesn’t say anything, can’t . But then Mark makes a soft noise and pulls weakly at his hand and Jack goes easily, hugging Mark as carefully as he can. It barely registers that Mark was quoting Hercules when he spoke up, what a nerd.

“I really would have killed you, y’know,” Jack says, muffled against Mark’s collarbone, he brushes his fingers through Mark’s dark hair. “Still might.”

“I know, you’re totally vicious and scary,” Mark says, and his mouth is right against Jack’s ear, making it tingle oddly whenever he speaks. “You’ll kiss me first though, right?”

Jack lifts his head a bit, and Mark looks so fragile, so tired and hurt. And he loves him, so, so much.

“Right,” Jack says softly, leaning down. “I’ll kiss you first.”

Only he doesn’t, as Mark surges up and closes the space between them. His lips are dry and his mouth tastes like chemicals, and like everything that Jack’s ever wanted.