#then i find out wait… u guys think hes hot when eleven is flirting with river 😟

[lesbiantrish]

if u ever need to laugh just be in the matt smith community as a raging lesbian

[castle-dominion]

let's watch the version with only two ppl bc I think it will be easier when I'm exercising (tho I always like listening to the executive producers & I'd love to get some other crew ppl at some point)

gosh there are 9 caption options with all the languages & audio versions dang

"didn't talk much" Yeah plastic bag over the head didn't get a chance to meet him? Gah that's sad

talking about how hot susan sullivan is lol she was flirting with us cuz she's hot & she's allowed JH always acts like we haven't seen the episode yet. if we are watching the commentary, we have PROBABLY seen the episode already babes "a prom date? isn't she like eleven?" SD: do you think nathan will ever have kids? JH: he just needs to quit bossing me around like he's my dad

I like how all the other audio commentaries are like "talking about stuff, sometimes conversations are sparked by the show" but this one is just "shush don't talk over us this is our scene!"

SD: Good scene, I want a still of that with everone's autograph JH: Do you want me to sign that for you <3? SD: SD: No, 'cause I can sell it JH: I sell most of my stuff on ebay SD: You sold all the stuff I gave you 🥺?

poor guy, plastic bag, heat, holding breath, playing dead...

SD: Without me🥺??? JH: I like looking at dead bodies

JH: I do the Barack walk, it's like, part of my character SD: ???? JH: My obama walk

SD: A little young for him? JH: He's 35 on the show SD: Oh my Gahd! JH/JE: I'm a detective, I know these things

SD: Poeple roll on the floor in grief

JH: Nathan ask her out? SD: Did he??? JH: I'm asking SD: oh, no he didn't. But damn look at the jawline on him. Not right now that's her.

Poor guy couldn't find his light

SD: That (if you step on nathan's line/light, you, dever, can get fired) was in my contract from day one, written in red ink I remember.

what the f are they talking about XD XD XD JH: You know, my mom, in the 70s, she went to canada...

Yo that was the SOUND STAGE??

bro. WE HAVE SEEN THE EPISODE. JH PLEASE. IT'S OK. SD: we play well in a two-shot ; ) SD: See what's tucked under my arm there? (castle book) JH: Yeah. Woah soup coolers! SD: . You don't even want to talk about it

HOLY CRAP THAT'S SPECIAL practical EFFECTS MAKEUP Like what would you tell your agent? "WHat do you mean I'm auditioning for obscene faced woman?" The special effects are great & do a lot of work

Oh good for him! "He's available for parties, bat mitzvahs, bar mitzvahs, he brings his own jumpy castle," he's going to kill me when he sees this

Sal the wardrobe guy! My beloved!

SD: "You're gonna give her a complex" MR: She already has body image issues both: *cracking up* JH: I remember when I was her age I had body... Me: wow real full of yourself JH: ....... image issues too SD: would u describe SS as "brassy"? JH: I already described her to you. the word was "hot" JH: I hope she watches this & knows I think she's hot

JH: sh, great scene coming up SD: Our last two scene : ( *both fake laughing* SD: I laughed genuinely there that entire set, beautiful place, ONE scene? It shows that they love us SD: we have to fill out those forms after hours. ...You don't? JH: Not part of my job, that's part of yours I like the dynamic they put on, the "you could get fired" & "you need to fill out forms" & stuff they play with JH: it's bc you're the New Guy

SD: Look at you there. Steamy. JH: My attitude or my look? SD: The way I feel when I look at you XD bruh

SD: She's not here JH: SD: SD: Everybody has seen this before so we can say: She's the killer! It's called hide the killer. Nobody watches the commentary first. You watch the episode first & then you're like *in a voice* "that was intriguing; jon huertas; I saw him on generation kill. I'm going to see what he has to say about episode 1:10" JH: Wait nobody watches the episode with the commentary on first? I can't tell if he's joking SD: Noo! You're not supposed to! & when you do you go "Oh I don't want to hear this first it'll ruin everything." They Know that. JH, wistfully: That's what I've been doing wrong all these years (I think THIS is a joke tho) SD: There are spoilers!

JH: There he goes trying to make you look stupid SD: You didn't know it either! Nor did stana! Well Beckett didn't. Stana knew bc she read the script Uh yeah that's how it works

SD: the bullpen uwu, look at the floor-- wait I love this scene JH: you're not supposed to stop talking SD: me & castle bond really quick here

Do y'all usually watch it more than once? I mean you read the script & act the dang thing & yeah you watch the final episode, but do u usually watch these things more than once? JH: You don't watch it over & over again like I do? SD: no, I don't. Once, & then I burn it

KR: checked my wallet for condoms & showed me his gun collection. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely put on the corsage. JH: did that actually happen to you? SD: no. improv: "yes and" SD: I mean yes SD: I mean no

I like how actors get together & talk about building the scene rather than just reciting lines & movements. JH, sounding like he's leaning back, crossing his legs, & folding his arms behind his head: Ladies & gentlemen, it's not on the page, this stuff has to be cultivated. [...] SOMETIMES directors /j

KR: Ask "Hard Candy"? Good luck. RC: "Hard-- hard Candy"? JE: Assistant U.S. Attorney Candace Robinson. She makes mobsters cry. JE, cut & improvised: & she's hot too KR, " " whispered: No she's not JH: but she IS hot SD: no yeah she is I know but yeah, but we have to have-, a lot of times what we do with esposito & ryan, (or at least idk if we've made this consciously as a choice, but) we sort of make opposite choices, which is fun. Subconscious? These two have great on-camera chemistry, they really seem to work well together SD: Like you feel one thing, I sort of check in we're like "what are you thinking during this scene?" JH: Yeah it's true. I feel the right thing, you kind of feel the wrong thing /lh (oh wait there's more after this) SD: Yeah no what I do is I go after the wrong thing. that way there's a foil &, I look stupid, yeah. *JH laughs* No we just make a choice of like I think she's hot, you think she's hot, no I think she's mean JH: but you're doing that just to, just to do the opposite of what I'm doing SD: well that's so there's conflict JH: you, your character actually thinks that she's hot (cause who wouldn't...) SD: conflict is the nature of drama (maybe that's why she's hard candy: mean but pretty) JH: That DA right there was hot SD: She is!but she's mean to me JH: That's the hottest DA we've ever seen SD: but she's mean to me I can't look past the facade of that (ok is that "me" or is that "me as Ryan"?) SD: so this is the example of the kind of things that we like to choose. I like the insight into the characters but dang this was just a funny argument JH: ladies & gentlemen, pay attention to seaon two, I'm lobbying to get her as my love interest for season two SD: let's see if that happens JH: pay attention to season 2 SD: like a kid in a candy store: jon huertas.

JH: u probs know we shoot this in LA SD: WE DO??? JH: this street looked so much like new york I thought I got left out *SD casually drops that this was where the french dip snadwich was created*

yeah I love good use of lighting *in souther accent* he talks like this, *starts repeating his lines but with an alabama accent*

SD: why do they have to make jimmy the rat moran irish? Bro moran is of irish origin but also a hella spanish name so when spain colonized the americas it became a native american hispanic name too... context again, I LOVE the tech props, they make this stuff real, you can actually scroll & stuff! JH, with heart eyes: I love our crew JH: abc <3 beacon <3 SD: u'r kissing up to them JH: I'm trying to get the DA to be my love interest!

*talking about bailey chase & his pretty jawline & killer talents* SD: I think he gets embarrassed when we talk about him like this I hope he watches this JH: he doesn't watch the commentary SD: I'll tell him, I'll text him right now

yk sometimes I can't tell who is talking, huertas/esposito or dever/ryan. With their faces it's ok bc I can often lip read (supplementally, I can't read lips alone,) but in the commentary I can't see their faces. A least with the commentary they usually say which one is talking. They probs do with the regular ep too, I just rely more on the lips during the real episodes than the captions. It's times like this I realize I really am hard of hearing. I sometimes forget I'm HOH bc I can still hear, but then I realize in situations like rn that, well, full hearing ppl don't have these issues. suspense, drama comedy-- *interupts* & horror! (castle with the severed head)

both: uwu molly. She has really grown up! JH: now I'M feeling protective of her. who is this kid, Who Is This Kid? Hold up, who is this kid let me see this kid. Don't say the wrong thing [or] I will come through this microphone [& beat u up] laughing silently trying not to laugh for real & disturb my family

SD: I think I had that tie when I sang in show choir in sophmore year in high school

both: I live in castle's loft. SD: I bring a cot upstairs JH: I sleep in his bed. that's right nathan I sleep in your character's bed *NF+SD doing christopher walken impressions* ngl I love the captions. HUERTAS: (IMITATING CHRISTOPHER WALKEN) Seamus, & that's IT for this line of subtitles, they can only fit ONE WORD on that he actually said SD: Nathan & I were doing it, Jon kind of felt left out he's like "why can't I do a christopher walken?"

good morning I'm back & WOW this ep is taking a long time & I actually didn't have a good workout bc they're so funny I quote every funny line but everything they say is funny argh

WOAH HOLD ON captions said that was dever but DANG that was SOME VOICE

I'm p sure we DO see his face?

JH: bc you're mean to people SD: People are mean to ME!

SD: I was ordering chinese, do you remember? JH fondly: yeah I do SD: wasn't scripted tbh I was /wondering/ what he was doing on the phone. They probably have each other's favourites written down on a list on their phones so they can order enough to share, like my mom-- ooh that would be a good plot point in a fanfic, they find out valuable information by seeing people's food orders in the notes app. maybe they find out who the next-of-kin are if they don't have an identity (they could get that from the phone number-- UNLESS IT'S LIKE ME UNTIL I WAS 19: DIDN'T HAVE A PHONE PLAN), they could find out who the killer is by whose favourite is at the crime scene or the ginger beef sauce around the vic's neck from strangling them, they could go to one of the restaurants & the waiters probably heard smth abt the conspiracy or they could get descriptions of each of them or they could get pics from security footage, idk I think it would be a fun plot point

both: those two mess up & WE are STILL the ones doing the legwork

what? IS THIS WHAT USA HEALTHCARE IS LIKE? YOU GET KICKED OUT OF YOUR ROOM & THEY WORK ON YOU IN THE PARKING LOT SO A SHOW CAN FILM THERE??? oh btw espt's jacket & ryan's shirt, both rly nice. patterned.

SD: "You have to take that axe to my door? I understand, it's for hollywood." We get some very understanding people in this town JH: I think they're understanding because we usually pay them about ten thousand dollars a day

Apparently that thing I hate is called rack focus. it kinds sucks Bill Roe, DP. I love a good dp, I wanted to be a DP at some point, but mister roe PLEASE chill with the focus tricks, t' hurts me eyes.

JH: if he does anything wrong seamus I'm going back thru this microphone Don't you... GET YOUR LIPS OFF... *gasps* Aw that was quinn's fist onscreen kiss ever! Good for her *both clap for her*

u right, I'm glad they are talking abt the music

Oh AM himself wrote this script. Three days!

SD, half an episode after joking about going upstairs with a cot: is there anything up those stairs? I'm awlways scared to go up. JH: I think she actually has a bedroom up there SD: I think she does I think she lives there bc she's underage she's sort of JH: yeah SD: that's where she gets homeschooled

HOLY CRAP MOLLY QUINN IS A VIOLINIST? HECK YEAH! & SHE PLAYS ELECTRIC? OOF THIS IS SO GOOD I NEED TO GO VISIT MY FAVE MUSIC SHOP NOW BC HHHHH I WANT AN ELECTRIC FIDDLEOLA but every electric violin gets bought immediately. oof. Plus I'm probably more likely to get an acoustic electric fiddleola/5stringed violin. I have my eyes on a mandolin tho. Once, dad called a mandoline slicer a "banjo" but fun fact a banjo is another name for a spider, like for deep frying things. I said this to him over text & sent images & then he just sent me a pic of an arachnid.

you're right there ARE many people for a saturday morning... SD/KR: see what happens when you buy an espresso maker? it gets ABUSED castle

SD: is this the last scene we shot together? JH: DON'T MAKE ME CRY IN THIS

SD: nice cup i have there JH: barack obama walk

I love these two bc they KNOW things, they know themselves best so they can point out what was going on in their head during scenes as well as stuff like lighting & music & another actor's first kiss & stuff. wait was that line improvised? did you really make JH have to hold back a laugh on set? "how come he's drinking & sayin his line at the same time?" Glad they're talking abt the mug bc I HAVE noticed that ryan has a specific mug! he DOES change it up for season two JH: that cartoon character on your mug reminds me of you SD: I'm like a clown to you????

SD: Look at that. I like when we're smart. JH: Finally. You know why this is my favourite episode? 'cause you/ryan & I/espt close this case. SD: that's real police work JH/JE: now go get em beckett, we told beckett to go get the guy. SD/KER: that's true. "Go get them, guns drawn. I mean we'd do it but we have a knicks game to go to." I think is what... the line that got cut JH: that's what was going on. SD: that line is gone now JH/JE: we know what happens when we go get people. we tackle them. SD/KR: YOU tackle them, I pull my gun. & then-- but you tackle them really well so I don't.. I don't encroach on your territory JH/JE, chuckling: well thank you SD/KR: yeah JH/JE: You can next time [if] it's a big guy. SD/KR: I might tackle JH/JE: if it was this guy? (onscreen is a somewhat tall, fit, somewhat buff, def strong, like fbi trained man) SD/KR: uhhhhhh I don't think I'd tackle him JH/JE: we'd both need to tackle him SD/KR: I think we'd both need to. He's a tall feller. *silly voice* that's a tall drink of water. JH/JE: I hit him high, you hit him low SD/KR: hit him high, hit him low

jacqueline geary never would have suspected this librarian

Oh wait he DOES have a mask but it's an oxygen mask

SD: I wonder if that sound is post JH: *ASMRs his mic*

**Emotional** JH: so the episode is almost over; are you...? SD: am I feeling weepy JH: Yeah r u getting sad? SD: yeah a little bit. Were you? just now? too? JH: I was SD, voice high+soft: that's amazing. I'm feeling that same thing. it's like that pull of like uh... **emotional...?** JH: we're like the Corsican Brothers SD: yeah. .. What? JH: we can feel each other (right?) SD: oh is that what they did? **yeah nice segue from emotional to whatever the heck this is** JH: cheech & chong's.... SD, laughing: ya oh god you just referenced cheech & chong? JH: come on man who doesn't love cheech & chong? SD: everyone's going to hear that now, & they're going to like, "that's what they do? (watch cheech & chong?)"

JH: *moving the convo to his love interest to-be*

SD: Burn. Facial. ...Psych.

SD: Are we going to get to get in the interrogation room this time? I only went in there once; this whole year. JH: I was only in there once or twice yeah. SD: Don't get me wrong... JH: yeah I want to interrogate somebody. SD: That's a terrible interior there, but... JH: I want to play good cop bad cop. SD: Maybe they'll let us play good cop c- bad cop & I'll, you know... idk, *laughing* maybe not JH/JE: I think you might qualify as the good cop. SD/KR: Really? I c-- you don't think I could be bad cop? (btw I am just remembering all the extras, I like it, the one person by the garbage can is actually caught betting on a murder ordering girl scout cookies next season.) JH: hey SD: You don't know my previous work prior to castle? SD, kind of grumbly: I play a "good guy" on castle JH: I've seen you play a bad guy on... SD: yeah! JH: Ladies & gentlemen (he's said l+g like three times now), Seamus Dever. I saw him on an episode... (wait it's déver? I thought it was deever lol, bc of the e after the consonant probably, stupid english.) SD: Don't promote other network shows they don't like that, it has to be smth that's on ABC JH: another crime... *SD laughs* JH: I don't,, I don't think so JH: but it was another crime procedural; i saw him play the bad guy on there & I was impressed. SD: I used to play nothing but bad guys. I'm happy to play a good guy

sorry it just reminded me of the USOUD google forms version JH: you played nothing but bad guys? SD: yeah for a long time there. It's nice playing good guys tho!

SD, talking about story structure: it's the climax, the cliffhanger JH: r u allowed to say climax? SD: YES. IT'S A LEGITIMATE WORD JH: I just thought maybe SD: in composition JH: the censors might feel weird SD: no, No! SD: it's in english composition class! JH, softly: climax JH: idek what it means except for "climax" SD: No! I mean well maybe if you wouldn't have you know maybe If you'd gone to school a little bit more JH: pfsouhuh (I can't tell who says the first "why") SD: "Why? who needs that? I'm going to become an actor" JH: I'm like kobe bryant. I'm like the kobe bryant of the acting world dude SD: "I'm like kobe bryant, I don't need to..." He's pretty smart though he speaks like three or four different languages, I was surprised by that. (the only shocking thing is that he's american. A lot of europeans I know speak a dozen languages. Mom's first language, dad's first language, the language of the place you live, the secondary language of the place you live, english, another language just for fun... Personally I already speak fluent english & conversational french, tourist-talk in japanese, baby-talk in cree+michif, & then I know a few words in a ton of languages. I want to be fluent in eng, fr, cree+michif (michif is basically half bad cree & half bad french), ASL (I used to have a somewhat functional sign language with my friends at school, it worked for playing tag & stealing candy or complaining at my gramma's bc I taught my brother, but it was all conlang & direct translated english), japanese, & then german, spanish, mandarin, tagalog, & then all other languages too lol bc I like them, portugese, swedish, italian, arabic, hebrew, anishinabe or ojibwe (ojibwe is an anishinabe language like potowatome is an anishinabe language, but ojibwe is also v similar to cree), Gaeilge+Gàidhlig, bungee (which is gaelic+ojibwe), ukranian, dutch, finnish, welsh, inuktitut, cantonese, greek, hindi, punjabi, mauri, russian, Mohawk+Oneida+Onondaga+Cayuga+Seneca+Tuscarora & Cherokee, Mi'kmaq, Innu, Tigrinya, greek, turkish, korean, just all the languages. This list is /kind of/ in order of most important to least important to me btw. By the end it kind of devolved.)

SD+JH: How did we get to talking about kobe bryant? I don't care abt sports at all.

We were at a nice restaurant we thought we had an hour "do do-do do-do, I'll have the steak frites" & the producers were like "uh we're trying to shoot" "can we get this to go?" this really nice lunch "can you pack it up in styrofoam for us?" they were like what?

*announcer voice* this has been Seamus Dever playing detective kevin ryan! & i'm jon huertas ; ) you know who I play 😏

Well that was a lot harder to sit through. it is literally 14.20, 2.20pm, I have not even watched a single ep of castle in my solo watch yet, I was just finishing up from last night. holy fuck. This was supposed to be "you don't need to comment anything dom" but then they were hella funny all the time & I woke up late & can you believe I still need to do a bunch of lessons for work? ugh

[golbrocklovely]

only the lonely survive // colby brock - chapter ten: you suck so passionately

A/N: hey everyone. i’m slowly trying to churn these out since i’m only two or so chapters ahead. so, i might not update for another couple days. that being said, i will be posting the first chapter of ‘twisted’ soon, so get ready for that. i’m also gonna be posting a playlist of all the chapter titles from this story.  feel free to request anything in the meantime.  hope you enjoy! :)

description of the story

taglist:  @ajosieface , @localsleeper , @julyrubyrose

trigger warning: fluff, cursing

word count: 1758

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I could feel the bed shift around me. I still had my eyes closed, not wanting to get up yet. I peaked open one eye. I could see the silhouette of a man, pulling jeans on. His back was to me.

Colby...

He grabbed the shirt off the chair in the corner and threw it on. I stretched slowly, pulling the covers off me. Colby turned to me.

"Did I wake you up?" He quietly asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. What time is it?"

"It's a little after eleven." He replied, grabbing his phone.

"And you're awake? Congratulations." I mumbled, smirking.

He chuckled. "Funny."

I pulled myself out of my bed. "Are you leaving right now?"

"Yeah. My uber's gonna be here in a minute or so." He nodded, slowly walking out of my room. I followed behind him.

We walked into the living room. Brennen, lounged on the couch, looked up and saw us.

"Hey cutie." Brennen commented.

"Are you saying that to me or Colby?" I sassed, resting my hands on my hips.

"...Both." He replied.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. I heard Colby's phone vibrate. He glanced down at it. "My ride's here."

"Okay. It was nice seeing you again." I mentioned, opening my arms and giving him a hug.

He squeezed me tight, swaying us. "I'll text you later." He whispered.

"Alright." I pulled away, smiling.

He waved at Brennen and opened the front door, leaving quickly.

"Is Casey here?" I asked, turning to Brennen.

He shook his head. "No, she left early this morning."

"She's probably at the gym. She likes to go super early if she has a lot on her mind." I stated, shrugging slightly.

"Can I be straight with you?" Brennen inquired.

"Sure?"

"Do you realize how much Colby likes you or are you playing hard to get?"

I cocked my head to the side. "What?"

"I'm serious." He deadpanned.

"Colby doesn't like me." I doubted, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, he does. I know him very well and even though he falls in love with every girl he meets, you seem a bit different." He pointed out, mimicking my stance.

"I highly doubt he likes me. We're just friends." I scoffed.

"For right now. Do you like him?" He teased, smirking.

I exhaled. "C'mon Brennen..."

"I just want to know. I won't tell him." He chuckled.

"I mean... I guess so." I answered.

Brennen queried. "Are you attracted to him?"

"Are you attracted to Casey?" I taunted.

His face twisted. "This isn't about me."

"Answer my question and I'll answer yours." I dared, uncrossing my arms.

After a moment, he responded. "Yes."

"Okay." I slowly started walking to the kitchen.

"Well is that an 'okay' to my answer or to my question?" He questioned, following me into the kitchen.

"Both?" I grinned.

I grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge as he entered.

"Do you know if she likes me?" He mumbled, looking down towards the floor.

"Casey? I mean... I know she finds you hot." I admitted.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, everyone does. But how do I get her to like me more?"

"First and foremost, maybe stop flirting with me." I explained, shrugging.

"But I find it so fun." He teased, sitting on the counter.

"She doesn't. And Colby probably doesn't either if he apparently likes me." I insisted, taking a sip from my bottle.

He nodded his head. "Valid point. But if all else fails, you're still my future baby mama."

"No, I'm not." I groaned.

He moved on. "Oh by the way, the Trap House is throwing a party tomorrow."

I scrunched up my face. "You guys literally went to a party last night."

"That is true, however, it did end with us almost fighting a clout chaser." He recalled.

"I guess so." I agreed.

"Plus, a lot of the parties we've been to recently have kinda sucked. But the Trap House... they know how to throw a party." He smiled brightly.

The front door busted open, banging against the wall. "Brennen I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Casey's voice yelled out. She came rushing into the kitchen.

"Woah, woah, woah! What did I do?!" He sputtered, jumping off the counter.

"You know exactly what you did! Delete the tweets right now!" She shoved her finger at him, getting in his face.

"What tweets?" I asked.

She grunted. "You haven't seen them, have you?"

"No? What's going on?" I puzzled.

"Last night at the party, Brennen asked for my number and in my slightly tipsy state, I mistakenly gave it to him. He also asked for our instagrams so I gave them to him. And since your and mine's ats are the same on insta and twitter, he followed us on both." She explained, glaring at Brennen.

"Okay? And what's the problem?" I replied.

Brennen sighed, and slowly pulled his phone out. "Well I might have tweeted about Travis and what he said to you..."

He slowly showed me his phone. It was on his twitter, showing three tweets in a row from him at around one AM last night.

BrennenTaylor: TRAVIS MARCUS IS A BITCH

BrennenTaylor: what fuckin loserr has to make fun of girls and film it to feel good about themselves??? @travismarcus

BrennenTaylor: @skyebennett is fucking GORGEOUS and @travismarcus is an asshole for calling her fat. what are u 12?

It took a moment for the words to click in my head. "Brennen..." I sighed, covering my eyes.

"Look I'm sorry! I was drunk and pissed off. I wrote them when I was in the uber on the way over here. I forgot I even wrote them to be honest." He apologized, pulling his phone away from me.

"What are people saying... about me?" I questioned.

"Everyone's being really nice honestly. But Brennen shouldn't of at-ed you in the first place." Casey sneered, slapping Brennen's arm lightly.

"Has Travis said anything?" I mumbled.

"No. But he did DM me asking me to take the tweets down 'cause he heard this is gonna go on Messy Monday soon." Brennen pointed out.

"That's gonna make the situation so much worse." I grumbled, resting my back against the counter.

"I know you probably don't want attention, but people need to know he's a dick." Brennen sighed again, continuing. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I'll take them down if you want me to."

I shook my head. "No it's fine."

We all stood around awkwardly for a moment. I could tell Brennen was uncomfortable and Casey was still pretty pissed. "I'll be right back." I uttered, leaving the kitchen quickly.

I could hear Casey and Brennen bicker as I went to my room to get my phone. I hadn't even thought to look at it this morning. I grabbed it and turned it on. Multiple notifications popped up. I went to Youtube first.

I had gained about 500 new subscribers.

Oh... I guess that's nice.

I then went to Instagram. I had many request messages. And from scrolling through some, I could tell most people felt bad for me. Some, who were fans of Travis, were not so empathetic. Finally going to twitter, I saw extreme amounts of positive messages. There was a hashtag started - #travismarcusisoverparty. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

This doesn't even feel real at this point.

I scrolled through my dms to see I had a message from Travis himself.

Travis: please tell Brennen to take down the tweets. Things are getting out of hand. I apologize for what I said.

I rolled my eyes but replied to the message anyway.

Skye: I can't force him to take it down. That's up to him. Thank you for apologizing, but you shouldn't have said what you said in the first place. You're too old to be making fun of people like that.

"Hey Skye?" I heard Brennen voice call to me.

I looked up to see him standing in my doorway. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna be heading out. I gotta go feed Kobe and go workout. Also if I don't leave soon, Casey's gonna murder me." He stated.

I chuckled. "Okay. Give me a hug goodbye."

He smiled sadly, walking over to me and embracing me. He pulled away, keeping me in his arms. "I'm really sorry I brought you into this dumb drama."

"It's okay. I don't mind what you said. And I mean besides, Travis was gonna get his comeuppance at some point. It just happened to deal with me too." I shrugged.

He cocked his head to the side, smirking. "Comeuppance?"

"What?" I asked.

"Do they use words like that in college? I wouldn't know obviously..." He trailed off, slowly backing away from me.

I groaned. "Oh my God, get out of my house."

"Alright, I'm going, I'm going." He mimicked back, waving. "I'll text you later!"

"See ya!" I yelled back, grabbing my phone.

Just as I heard the front door close, I felt my phone vibrate. I looked down, seeing a new message from Colby.

Colby: forgot to tell u but i'm throwing a party tomorrow. do u wanna come???

I smiled, opening the message and responding.

Skye: Brennen already told me about it. And yeah I'm down 😊

I walked over to my dresser and grabbed some clothes for the day. I heard my phone vibrate again.

Colby: i know this is sudden, but would u want to film a video w me?

Wait what?

Skye: uh yeah. what did you have in mind?

I sat on my bed, waiting for him to reply. I could see he was typing out his message.

Colby: i was thinking like a q&a with a fan or something else if u have a better idea

I couldn't believe this was happening. He actually wanted to film a video with me...

Maybe Brennen wasn't lying about him like me after all.

Skye: no I like that idea! when did you want to film it?

I started to get dress, needing to do something to pass the time in between Colby texting me.

*buzz buzz*

Colby: before the party tomorrow, if that's good for you.

I bit my lip staring down at my phone. I almost couldn't contain my excitement.

Skye: sounds great! lmk when you want me to come over tomorrow then

I placed my phone down, and then slowly laid down on my bed. I glanced up at the ceiling.

Why do I think this party tomorrow is gonna change my life?

<< CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 11 >>

[lolasimblr98]

If I Was Your Girlfriend (Chap 4)

NSFW. Blurred some images, you can see all and in full on my blog https://reignagameofpower.com/2018/03/05/chapter-4-if-i-was-your-girlfriend/   Bash Banks POV ****SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTER/RACIAL POLITICS****

“Damn girl, you feel so good,” I said through grunts as I gave Giavanna Gavino repeated hard thrusts positioned behind her against the side of my bed. I had a tight grip on her fast-moving gyrating hips, and her body slammed against mine.

She screamed out. “Oh, right there..so..good!” Giavanna struggled to get her words out. I was positioned behind her on the bed giving her the best fuck of her life. “Is that good?” I whispered. “Yes…”

I had been pursuing this girl for the last two months. GG worked near my office building downtown in at one of the most elite money management firms in the country. I had seen her and some co-workers at a bar in my building off and on over the last eight weeks or so.  She’d usually curved my advances when I attempted to flirt or get her phone number. But I knew it was just a game because of the way she flirted with me but made every excuse as to why she wasn’t looking to date, anybody. I think about her more than I thought I would. Now that I have her in my bed, I wonder if there could be something more between us; if I could ever be close to her.

I saw her exchange numbers with one of those blonde, fair skinned pedigree WASP. You know the type, those fuckers who only got into Ivy League because they were legacy members or daddy made a substantial contribution to get their mediocre kid past the waiting list. Girls like GG usually went for those types with the prominent last names and good families. They would fuck niggas like me but typically choose not to date openly.  Giavanna was Brazilian, not one of those black Brazilians, but more so with the looks of like Adriana Lima with a similar exotic flair. If she wanted to get past the fact that she wasn’t blonde and blue-eyed, she could not procreate with a dark Brazilian, a black American, or anyone else that could taint her bloodline. I wasn’t a basketball player, making millions of dollars. That always seemed to ease the minds of white fathers’ racism if their little girls were to marry niggas with money. I did do well for myself, but nothing in the seven-figure range. It wasn’t enough.

I gave her one final thrust as I started to feel myself coming. GG had already came, more than once I must say. She screamed so loudly; she was wild. When women acted outright like animals in bed, it made me even more excited. If you ever wanted to know what the koochie was like on my end, just imagine a tight wet cave stuffed with soft pillows. You slide in, and you slide out, all the better when she made that shit rain. I finally climaxed, and we collapsed onto my bed. I was hot and sticky; my body burned from the workout I just gave it. GG slid over and rested her head on my chest. Her hair smelled like jasmine, and her skin had a lustrous, silky feel to it. Panting and breathing hard, I looked at her body, admiring it yet again.GG was so beautiful. She had this tanned olive skin, dark curly hair, perfect pouty full lips and greenish brown eyes. I preferred her phenotype to most other women. She was the definitely the sexiest woman I’ve ever been with. Usually, after I bed a woman, I’m not so eager to continue seeing her, but I felt differently about GG. I wanted to grow closer to her, know her thoughts, wants, and needs. 

“That was so amazing. You are so amazingly talented. What they say about black guys is definitely true,” purred GG, as she turned over to look at me. “Yeah, that’s one stereotype I’m proud to say is true. So I’m the first black man you’ve been with?” I asked. She giggled a bit. “No, you’re not.”  

I raised my brow. “Oh? By the way, you were acting before I assumed you preferred Bobbys over Tyrones,” I said, which made GG giggle.

“Don’t act so surprised, Sebastian. Besides those guys at the bar are just guys I have fun with sometimes and can get me into some pretty exclusive places. They’re like my bosses friends sons who have jobs because of who their fathers are. But you, you Bash, I want to be my big Mandingo. I think I need you a regular basis.”   GG sat up; slowly crawling toward me. Her stare was penetrating as she moved her hand over to my member. I laughed a bit. “I’ll give it to you anytime you want it, Baby.”  

I got up from the bed and went into the bathroom to take a piss. The air in the hallway was cold, but it felt good to cool my skin off.

I grabbed my bath towel and wiped the sweat from my chest and washed my hands. I headed toward my bedroom when I heard a notification of a text message I had received. I spotted my phone on the hall table; it was just after eleven. I opened up the text, which was from Rico Thomas, an old associate from Wharton.

Rico: Hey, it’s been a while since we’ve talked. We need to discuss your future. We’ll meet for drinks at Georgio’s.

That was the end of the message. Rico didn’t specify what day he wanted to meet. When you get a message like that from him, which isn’t often, you don’t ask questions. If you had something planned, you don’t call him back asking to reschedule; you break your date even if your wife is in the middle of giving birth, you see Rico. I was intrigued not so much by what Rico said, but what he didn’t say. What specifically did he mean by ‘your future’?

Rico had one of the fasted growing consultation firms in the region. He rubbed elbows with some of the most influential people in business, politics, and just about every other field. He must’ve heard about the latest promotion I was passed up for.I could only wish to have access to some of the people Rico deals with on a regular basis. My life would be so different right now. Instead of slaving away making the white man richer, I could be running my own firm, using my design with my name on it.

I was eager to talk with Rico, but I would have to wait until he made contact again wait to see just exactly what he wanted to talk about. I had to admit; I felt a little intimidated at the thought of meeting up with him. We knew each other from U-Penn. He was ahead of me in school; we took some of the same business classes at Wharton. He was also a graduate associate professor before he went to Harvard full-time and obtained his MBA. Periodically, we ran into each other at a bar in Cambridge, as I was at MIT, which is very close to Harvard.

I put my phone back on the charger and headed to my bedroom, as Giavanna was starting to get dressed. The room was hot and stuffy and smelled like a combination of her Clinique, my Hugo Boss cologne, and sex.

“I need to get out of here. I have an eight am meeting tomorrow,” said Giavanna. I wasn’t really ready for her to leave just yet, but I didn’t let on. I watched as she pulled her black lace panties on and pulled her dress over her head; she hadn’t worn a bra. Her titties looked as succulent as ever. I had every instinct to push her on the bed again and fill my mouth with each one while I licked and sucked on her nipples.

“I too have early meetings. I’ll take you home.” I told her, snapping out of my fantasy. “Sure, that would be great.” Giavanna walked over to me and kissed me softly on the lips. “Thanks again for tonight, it was great,” she said. “My pleasure.”

Giavanna seemed impressed when she got into my new Benz and complimented how nice the features and heated seats were as we cruised through the dark streets downtown.

It was nothing serious going on between us, and I wasn’t sure when we would hook up again. It was okay for now. Sometimes I think it would be nice to be in a relationship, but I work so much and the women I’m around, act like they’re in charge and control, but they’re not.

These millennial girls of my generation are educated and going out getting careers and competing with males for those same jobs. Yeah, that shit is okay as far as them getting an education, but I find most of the bullshit about independence is just that: bullshit.Most women are the same as they were in my grandma’s generation. They ultimately want a man to call the shots; to make the hard decisions and have most of the responsibility. They mainly someone to take care of them.

I don’t know how many girls I went to school with, fresh out of graduation, a degree in hand, and within a year of finding their Bobby Pedigree, they gave all that shit up. Usually first getting a nice little upscale, overpriced condo near work and later moving out to the suburbs to be near the rest of the pedigree families and join their country club.

The women of the club would organize tea and feel-good charities for the less fortunate little Tyrones, Jamals, and Kishas. It made them feel good to peddle some money into the inner city, to help those little poor black babies; even when those “poor black babies” came from two-parent households. Often when black kids came from two-parent middle-class families, some of the country club Jenns and Susans believed they were poor and unfortunate, because ‘hey, they were black so ultimately they suffered and needed saving right?’ I’ll be the first to admit, however, that some of the thugs that have taken over my family’s neighborhood could use some saving, no matter who it came from.

My family wasn’t living in poverty. They weren’t exactly middle class, but working class; which might as well be poverty if you think in regards of how the real world works, and the divide between the rich and unambitious people in my old neighborhood. They were the people I struggled to get away from all of my life.

I felt obligated to socialize with my family every once in a while to show them that things could be better and that they needed to stop thinking small and living a life of low means was okay. I knew it was too late for my father, the most unambitious man I know, but at least my little sister, Michelle had a chance at getting an education and bettering herself. But who was I fooling? The rest of my family was hopeless. That’s the life they were used to, and none of them had any desire to change it.

Giavanna didn’t live too far away from me in Art of the City, an upscale neighborhood similar to SoHo in New York. The price for living here was almost as high as well. But you get what you pay for.

Once we arrived at her apartment, I walked her up the front door of her high-end building. Her doorman gave us a hard look. I held on even tighter to her and kissed her deeply on the mouth. It will never cease to amaze me how shook some white boys get over the beautiful women I can pull any day and the ones I chose to have on my arm. It’s okay; the haters drove my ambition. As I rise, I’ll give them a real reason to hate me.

****You can see all the pics on my blog 

[softspideys]

Are you okay? (Peter Parker x Reader) (Part I)

summary: while walking home alone one night, you find you’re being followed by a group of men. a certain masked hero swoops in to save the day before it’s too late.

warnings: uhhh there’s some harassment and a lil bit of a scary situation at the beginning but aside from that none

words: 1.9k

pairings: peter parker x reader

a/n: so many people encouraged me to post this so thank u so much <3 the reader is female in this just because of the plot and stuff so im sorry to all of my non-female readers :( if y’all like this i’ll definitely write some more and try to make them gender neutral. this is my first time posting my stuff on here so i hope it’s good :^)

You’d called the streets of Queens, New York your home for your entire life and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Some of your friends complained about living in the city, and sure, there were downsides: fighting for elbow room on a crowded subway, for example. Actually, pretty much just everything about the subway. Then there was the noise and the trash and the way that everyone and everything was packed in together so tightly. There were no backyards, everything was smelly; the list seemed to go on and on.

Even so, you loved living in the city. You were familiar with the streets and you weren’t afraid of any of them. Sure, you knew there was crime and murderers and rapists and robbers and gangs, but what was the likelihood that anything was going to happen to you?

One Friday night, you’d stayed late at a friend’s house. The two of you had started out doing some homework, but quickly dissolved into watching movies and eating snacks all evening. By the time your mom texted you, asking when you’d be home, it was almost eleven o’clock.

“Do you want my dad to walk you home?” your friend asked worriedly.

You knew your friend’s parents had retired to their room for the night and were probably asleep. You shook your head. “Nah, I’ll be okay. I’ll see you on Monday.”

You took the subway without any problems and came out only a few blocks away from your apartment. As you walked, you passed by some apartment buildings, one of which had a group of guys sitting on the front stoop. You paid them no mind as you went by, pretending not to hear the whistles directed at you. Unfortunately, you were no stranger to catcalls, but mother had always told you to just keep your head down and ignore them and you wouldn’t have a problem. So far it had worked. But not tonight.

You heard footsteps as the men got off of the stoop and began to follow you. You felt a lump of dread settling in your throat. You knew you had pepper spray somewhere in your backpack, but you were afraid to pause and search for it.

“Hey, beautiful,” one of the men cooed. His voice was smooth but it still made you sick to your stomach. “Where you going? Why you alone at this time of night?”

You didn’t answer, quickening your pace although deep down you knew it wouldn’t help. “Hey,” he said, louder and harsher this time, “I’m talking to you.”

Suddenly there were footsteps, heavy and loud behind you, and then a hand was grabbing your arm and jerking you back. You tried to pull your arm out of his grasp, but he merely held on tighter, making you flinch with pain. The other two men were surrounding you now, leaving you with no way out. Why was there no one around? This was New York, for God’s sake, there were always people around. It was just your luck. 

“Let go of me!” you shouted, hoping you would just sound angry and not scared.

They were all grinning now. “I don’t like being ignored,” the one holding onto you said. “I was just trying to be nice and give you a compliment, and you ignored me. That’s disrespectful.” He leaned in closer, and you could smell his hot breath on your face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling tears burn your eyes. “I’m sorry, please let me go.”

He shook his head. “You know what we do to disrespectful little girls like you?”

Your heart was beating so hard and so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. You had no idea what they did to disrespectful little girls, but you knew it wasn’t going to be good, and you knew there was nothing you could do to stop them. You thought of your mom and dad, waiting for you to come home, blissfully unaware of your dilemma.

“Please,” was all you could say, your voice shaking, “please, don’t.”

They all laughed, but before anything else could happen, a new voice said, “What’s so funny, gentlemen?”

Surprised, they turned in time to see a figure swooping down from a building, landing a few feet in front of you. What appeared to be a huge white net shot out and trapped one of the men against the wall. He shouted and tried to break free, but he was . . . stuck?

“Come on, guys, can’t you take a hint?” the guy continued. “If a girl ignores you when you catcall her and begs you to let her go, it means she’s just not into you like that.” You watched, eyes wide, as another net shot out from . . . his wrist? His hand? His arm? Either way, it trapped the second guy against the wall next to his partner.

The guy stepped into the light and you realized that it wasn’t a net, it was webbing. Spider-Man’s webbing, to be exact. The third assailant, the one holding onto you, seemed to realize that he had no chance in fighting back. He shoved you roughly to the ground and took off running.

“Oh no you don’t,” Spider-Man called. He shot another web at him and pinned the guy to a lamppost. You could hear him knock against it with a loud, painful-sounding clang. “There. Moral of the story here, guys? Respect women.”

He turned to you. “Now, let’s get you home, ma’am – oh.”

His voice instantly lost that smooth, confident tone he’d been speaking in as he jogged over and knelt to where you were sitting on the ground from when you’d been pushed. Your heart was still beating at a million miles an hour, and you felt dizzy, like you were in a dream.

If he hadn’t rescued you from such a horrifying situation, you would’ve thanked him, flirted with him a little, maybe even kissed his cheek. You knew all about Spider-Man, of course; you’d seen videos of him on the news and on YouTube. Occasionally he was known to get involved in huge crimes and heists, but mostly he was just the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, who gave old women directions and helped cats out of trees and did flips for people when they asked. You’d always imagined what it would be like to meet him, but never thought it would happen like this.

“Hey, are you okay? Wait, that was stupid, of course you’re not okay, you almost just got attacked – what I mean is, are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?” His voice was high, so you could tell that he wasn’t an adult. Judging from that, as well as his height, you would’ve guessed that he was around your age.

You shook your head. You could feel a bruise on your arm from where the man had grabbed you hard, and your hands and knees were a little scraped from falling on the pavement, but you knew you were lucky to walk away with such minor injuries when it could’ve gone a lot worse.

“Oh, good. I was afraid I got there too late. Did you see the look on their faces when I came down? I love doing that, it never gets – wait, why are you crying?”

The weight of everything that had just happened finally came crashing down on you, and you felt yourself starting to cry. What would’ve happened if Spider-Man had gotten there too late? Would you be dead by now?

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, feeling embarrassed to be crying in front of him. It was bad enough he had to save you from such an awful situation.

“No!” he said quickly, startling you. “Sorry, I mean, don’t apologize. I’m sorry. You must be really scared and now you have to listen to me ramble. I’m probably only making it worse.”

You laughed a little, trying to wipe your tears away. “No, you aren’t. You saved me. I’m the stupid one who was walking alone at night.” You shook your head at yourself. Your mom would be so angry if she found out.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Spider-Man said. “Those guys – they’re creeps, they’re horrible. You weren’t doing anything wrong. It’s okay.”

You shook your head. You hadn’t even realized you were still shaking until he put a tentative arm around you. The material of his suit wasn’t rubbery like you originally thought; it was smooth and cool. You stiffened and he started to withdraw his arm.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I think you’re in shock and I thought maybe that would help but of course it wouldn’t, why would you want some weirdo touching you after what just happened? I’m really sorry.” You noticed that he tended to ramble, especially when he was nervous.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “You can – you can put it back.”

“Okay.” Slowly, he put his arm back around you, rubbing your shoulder. You felt yourself blushing, and you wondered if Spider-Man were to take off his mask, would he be too? And then another thought hit you: what would he look like, if he were to take off his mask?

The two of you sat there for a minute or so until he finally asked, “So, uh – where do you live? I’ll walk you home. If you want. If you don’t want me to that’s okay, I would just feel better about it if I was with you. Um.” He scratched the back of his neck.

You smiled a little. “I live two blocks away.” The irony that you got attacked so close to where you lived was definitely not lost on you. “And I would really like that.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” Spider-Man stood and offered you a hand, pulling you up.

“What about . . . them?” You gestured to your would-be attackers, still pinned to the building and lamppost.

“I’ll come back for them,” Spider-Man decided. “They aren’t exactly going anywhere.” The two of you silently walked side-by-side to your apartment. There were a few people sitting on their front stoops, but no one gave you a second look. 

You snuck quick little peeks at him as you walked. He was only a few inches taller than you. He was definitely muscular – he had to be, considering all of the superhero-y things he could do – but now that the two of you were just walking, you saw he was also kind of awkward: he bumped into you every now and then and tripped over things like holes in the sidewalk or flower pots. It was a little endearing, and only made your guess that he was around your age even firmer.

You finally arrived at your building, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, here you are,” Spider-Man said. “I, uh, didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N,” you said, a little shyly.

“Y/N,” he repeated. “Pretty. Well, have a good night. Is that the right thing to say? I hope your night gets better, there we go. Good.”

You laughed for the first time all night. “Thank you,” you said, looking up at him. “For saving me, and for – this. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he answered, and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but I hope we don’t see each other again.” You nodded. He gave you a little wave before he took off jogging across the street, and you watched as he shot a web string onto the side of a building and swung into the night.

[stacze-blog]

I’m Sorry

Chapter 1

...Chapter 2>

        It was a peaceful Saturday night until Jackson slammed the front door open with an excited expression on his face; “Hey! Did you guys hear that there’s a new club downtown! We gotta go!!” he yelled. Everyone became lively and started to voice out how much fun they were going to have, except for one person, Mark. He wasn’t really fond of loud music and random girls coming up to him just to grind on his lower half so, while everyone was deep in their conversations, he slipped away from the group and went to his room. As he laid down on his bed and started to scroll through his Twitter, the door opened but he refused to pay attention to the person who entered the room. Jackson went straight to his clothes and began picking out a sexy outfit that would show off his toned arms. “Hey? Aren’t you going to get ready we’re leaving in a few minutes!”

"Hmm? Oh, no, I’m not going" Mark answered as he responded to a tweet from one of his friends.

        ”What?! I heard that it’s a great place though! The dance floor is huge, laser lights are everywhere, the DJ has great taste in music, and there will be plenty of…wait for it…girls~” Jackson dramatically faints on the floor and started to laugh. With a stern voice the L.A boy said “No” and kept quiet. Once Jackson was finished changing and his hair was brushed back to fit under his hat, he strutted out of the room and teasingly told his hyung, “Fine, but it’s your loss~ You could have found your one true love~!” The door closed with a sharp click and Mark finally looked up and said with a sad tone, “But I already found my true love *sighs* Only if you knew how much I want to be with you, Jackson.

~7 hours later~

         Mark woke up from his nap and turned on his phone to see what time it was. “It’s already 12 in the morning! The guys should be back by now. He lazily got off his bed and headed to the living room expecting to see his room mates passed out on either the couch or the floor, but, surprisingly, there was no one. It was completely quiet in the apartment, not even the leaky faucet in the kitchen was loud enough to interrupt the silence. He smirked and thought ‘Geez those guys. They must have gotten drunk and lost track of time…either that or they’re out roaming the stre-’ His eyes grew wide and he quickly got changed before leaving to go to the club.

~Flashback~

          Mark was in the living room watching a romantic comedy while everyone else was out at the bar. His phone started to ring and he answered it without taking his eyes off of the TV.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mark? It’s Eytn, your neighbor."

"Oh, hi! Is there a problem?"

"Well, I was coming home after having dinner with my family and I saw your friends in the park…"

"U-Uh huh?"

She stifled back a laugh before answering, “Bambam and Jackson weren’t wearing clothes and they were flexing to see who had a better body. Jb and Youngjae are trying to dig for treasure in the sand pit with a shovel. Yugyeom is crying on the swings because he dropped his ice cream, and Jinyoung…well…he’s flirting with a lamp post.”

         Mark shot up and screamed “What?!” He dropped his phone and ran to the park as fast as he could only to find his, extremely drunk, friends dancing around the hole that Jb and Youngjae made.

~End of Flashback~

         Once Mark entered the club, he scrunched his face in displeasure. The smell of booze filled the room, the air was tainted with sweat from dancers and couples making out in the hallway, the music was painfully loud, and the only light source was from the dance floor or people taking pictures with flash. He walked down the stairs and noticed Youngjae’s blonde hair; he quickly rushed over to him and sighed in relief to find his friends drunk in a booth, but, his smile was soon gone once he saw what Jackson was doing. He had a girl straddling his waist, his hair was messy from her manicured fingers, and their mouths looked like they were fighting in a war. Mark froze but quickly snapped back to his senses when he felt someone’s arms wrap around his shoulders from behind. “Ahhhh~ Mark oppa is here to party with us?” He turned around to see Jinyoung with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes. “No, I’m here to take you guys home.” Yugyeom overheard him and started to whine while giving his hyung a pouting face, “Whhhhyyyy~ Can we please stay for a little bit longer?” he slurred. After a few minutes of arguing and failed attempts of aegyeo, everyone prepared to leave. Jackson gave the girl one last peck before he grabbed his jacket. “Can I get your number?” the girl asked. “I would give it to you but I bet you won’t remember what just happened or who I am in the morning because of how tipsy you are right now." As the girl crossed her arms in annoyance, Jackson leaned on Mark’s shoulder and walked to the car with the rest of the group behind.

        The drive home was silent since everyone passed out; Mark didn’t bother to put on music because of how shocked and disappointed he was. His eyes quickly took a peak at Jackson’s sleeping face, only to feel his heart crack once more. ‘What were you thinking? He will never love you back…"

~9 hours later~

       The sound of a harsh groan woke Mark from his deep slumber and he turned his body to face the source of the noise. Jackson was propped up on his bed with his fingers massaging his temples. “I see you’re feeling great today” the older boy sarcastically said as he got up and stretched his arms. “Be quiet. I feel like I got hit in the head with a steel pipe or something. What happened last night?” Ignoring his question Mark walked out of the room and into the kitchen to grab some water bottles from the fridge. He set them out on the table in the living room with a few snacks and an Advil bottle. “3, 2, 1” At that moment, all the members started to come out of their rooms like the walking dead, except for Yugyeom who ran straight to the bathroom. “You guys, I swear. If you’re going to drink to the point where you’re ticking puke bombs, I suggest you do it at home.” All of them gave him a whatever-you-say face and began to pick out what they wanted from the spread in front of them. No one said a word because they were scared that if they did, they would become sick to their stomachs.

        ”Michingeo aniyaaa iyaaaaa iyaaaaaaa~!!!” Bambam’s cell phone suddenly began to buzz and play Go Crazy by 2pm as loud as it could. He answered it but he soon wished that he didn’t because it was his boss, who screamed at him for being late. The poor boy ran around the house trying to find his uniform and wallet causing him to aggravate his headache and everyone else’s. Yugyeom walked out of the bathroom and looked at the clock “Oh shoot! Jinyoung! Don’t we have dance practice at eleven!!” They both ran to their rooms realizing that they had ten minutes to get to the studio. “Frick! Jackson! Youngjae! We promised Namjoon that we would help him move into his new apartment today!” Mark just sat on the couch laughing to death as his friends shuffled around the house with cold patches on their foreheads and complaints flying out of their mouths. Jackson refused to move from his spot and told Jb to apologize on his behalf. The room soon fell silent as everyone left and the atmosphere started to became uncomfortable. “Hey” Mark jumped and tried to casually say “Uh? Oh, what’s up?"

"Thanks for taking us home last night"

"No problem…wait, you remembered me driving you all back?"

"No just…kinda guessed. Do you think you could tell me what happened yesterday?"

"Well" he hesitated but continued "I got to the club around 1 o’clock and found you guys completely drunk in a booth"

"That’s it?"

        Mark looked away from him pretending like he was thinking but, actually, he was trying to stop the tears from falling from his eyes. “W-Well no. Jinyoung and Yugyeom attacked me with aegyeo so that they could stay longer” Jackson laughed at the thought and urged his hyung to continue. “And…and well…you wer-” Mark turned his face to his loved one and quickly put his head down. ‘Should I tell him? What the heck do I do?!’

"I was...what?"

"Y-y-you w-were…" he breathed in and his head shot up to look at his friend in the eyes "making out with a girl."

"Really?! Was she hot?" Jackson said jokingly.

"I-I guess so. I didn’t really look at her face"

"Oh, ok then...Ha! Why was it so hard for you to say that?

        Mark avoided his gaze and went to the kitchen to find something to distract himself with; he was hoping that Jackson would drop the topic, but, he didn’t. The man from Hong Kong stood in the doorway, just watching his roommate pick through the fridge and cabinets. “You didn’t answer my question. Did anything else happen?” No response. “Was it about the girl?” Mark paused for a second then continued moving “Did you know her?” No reaction. “Was she someone you liked?” Now annoyed by all the questions, the L.A boy walked passed Jackson and said “Could you just stop already, this is getting really irritating!”

"I was right! It was someone you liked! I was really drunk and I didn’t know! I’m sorr-"

Jackson was shocked to see the warm tears that were falling from Mark’s eyes.

"Please don’t cry! I really am sorry! If I had kno-""

"NO, DON’T YOU GET IT!! YOU DIDN’T KISS SOMEONE I LIKED! YOU ARE THE ONE THAT I LIKE!!"

"What? Y-You like me?"