#zack merrick fanfiction

[fangirl94stuff]

Zack Merrick (All Time Low)

ZACK

After a long day of rehearsing for an upcoming tour, I wanted nothing more than to come home and put my feet up, and spend time with y/n. However, when I walked through the front door I wasn't expecting to relax anytime soon. y/n was crouched on the bottom step of the stairs having a stare-off with a pretty big spider which was in the middle of the hallway blocking them on the stairs.

y/n didn't scare easily but spiders were their weakness. It was a pretty common phobia and one of y/n's endearing traits because they gave you, even more, love and attention when you saved them.

y/n looks up at me with wide eyes and puts a finger to their lip, 'we don't want to scare him, Zack,' they whisper.

I play along trying not to laugh, 'would you like me to get rid of it y/n?'

y/n nods. I manage to walk around the spider and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and a piece of paper before making my way back into the hallway and the intense standoff.

'Shouldn't you kill it Zack so it doesn't come back in?' y/n questions, disbelief in their voice that I was going to save the spider and simply put it outside.

I shake my head, crouch down, put the glass over the spider and slide the paper beneath it, 'y/n it can't hurt you.'

As I stand back up y/n gets up and cautiously shuffles towards me, 'I know I should face my demons Zack and get this over with, but when your demon looks like that I can't concentrate.'

I laugh as I take the spider outside and throw it in the bush at the end of the driveway to prove to y/n that it won't come back into the house anytime soon. Going back inside I shut the front door and y/n hugs me.

'Thank you, Zack, I love you,' she says, a big smile on their face.

I hug them back, 'I like how soft this makes you y/n, maybe never face your demons so I can play the hero.'

y/n huffs, 'I'm not soft I'm a badass.'

I smirk and pat their head, 'Okay you're a badass. How do you cope when I'm on tour?'

y/n looks up at me with a twinkle in their eyes, 'if it's small I let it have control of the room, but if it's big and not blocking my way I go next door and they deal with it.'

I shook my head at the lengths y/n would go to, but now the spider was gone I wanted to relax, 'what are we going to do for the rest of the evening y/n?'

y/n pulls out of the hug and smirks, 'You're going to relax while I cook your favourite meal, and then we can cuddle.'

I rub my hands together, 'sounds good to me y/n.'

y/n walks in the direction of the kitchen while I enter the lounge. However, in the corner of my eye, I swear I see something scurry across the floor heading towards the kitchen. I'd find out in a few minutes if we had another eight-legged friend. So I sat down on the sofa and turned on the tv, I wanted to relax before playing the hero again.

[buckyeah]

How i read fics

[jackinalex]

I have an idea that is impossibly ambitious and may end up being a complete disaster, but if it works, it’ll be an awesome event for our little fandom. As a fan fiction reader and writer, I know how important interaction is for the longevity of fanfics in the fandom. In order for readers to have content to read, writers have to write. And for writers to write, they need feedback and love. Comments and kudos are great, but have you ever wanted to take it a step forward? As a reader, have you ever wondered what you could do to encourage your favorite writers and give back? Have you ever wondered if your work is honor-worthy? I certainly have, and for that reason, I want to host fanfic awards! 

Here’s how I think it will work: For my concept, it will be completely fan-nominated and fan-voted. I have come up with categories and stipulations, but I am open to suggestions for both. I plan to create a Google Form in which fans can nominate stories for each category, and the stories that are nominated the most for each will become the nominees (or if there are few votes, then all suggestions will become official nominees). Then, I will create a second Google Form in which the official nominees will be voted upon. The nominees in each category that gain the most votes will win! I’m still trying to come up with prizes, but at this point, I think an official graphic that winners can display on their blogs, profiles, etc. will be enough, as with the official titles. If you have an idea for prizes, let me know! 

Stipulations for Nominations: 

-Please only nominate one story per writer for each category. To clarify, you can nominate a story by your favorite writer for two categories, but not two in the same category. 

-Please only nominate stories from the past five years (I want to try and highlight stories from the more modern era since our fandom has fallen off. The writers who have been here deserve some recognition!) This does not pertain to the Legacy Fic award. 

-Please don’t nominate a fic in one category more than once. I’m not collecting emails for privacy reasons, but it isn’t fair to nominate one fic five or six times. Give other fics a chance! 

-You may nominate one fic in more than one category if the fic will fit into that criteria. However, I will likely use my best judgment to determine if the fic needs to be in both categories. 

-Please only nominate fics in the All Time Low fandom.

-Please CAREFULLY read the criteria for each category before nominating. Also, be sure to check the year a fic was last updated/posted to ensure that it is from the past five years (nothing past 2019). Fics can be posted anywhere (ex. ao3, wattpad, mibba, etc.) 

Categories: 

-Best Fluff (any pleasant, feel-good work)

-Best Angst (main plot has to do with prevalent physical or, mainly, emotional torment of characters)

-Best Smut (focuses on sexual activity)

-Best Kink (fics focusing on a specific kink(s) rather than just sexual activity)

-Best Crossover (fics featuring members of ATL and members of other bands, actors, etc.)

-Best Drabble (fic under 1000 words)

-Best One Shot (single-chapter work)

-Best Ongoing (fic that is still being written)

-Best Completed (fic that is multi-chaptered and completed)

-Best Legacy Fic (an iconic fic that is well-known and respected in the fandom and has been for many years)

Please direct any questions, comments, or suggestions to my ask box! More information will be out as more is decided.

The nomination form. 

[zackslifeisstrange]

Greetings.

Hello, Welcome to my new blog, first I’ll talk about my self a bit then explain what this blog is about.

I’m Zack.

15yrs old

FTM, He/Him, Bisexual

I have DID and depression.

Soo.. What is my blog?

My blog will consist of Life Is Strange content, such as fanfictions/stories, opinions, theries and whatever has to do with Life Is Strange. There may be the ocasional personal crap.

My favourite characters:

Chloe Price

Joyce Price

Rachel Amber

Nathan Prescott

My least favourite chracters:

Frank Bowers

Damon Merrick

What about other fandoms I’m in?

Danganronpa, Obey Me, The Office, and Weirdcore/Backrooms

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Blurb: Throwing a surprise birthday party for zack in quarantine 🥳

Hope that this is what you wanted!!

-----------------------------------------------------

“Y/N? Where are you?” Zack called, having just finished the live stream with his band. Y/N stepped back from the decorations she had just finished putting up, admiring her handywork. “Babe?”

“It looks good!” Zack’s mother assured her from the laptop, which Y/N had placed on the mantelpiece in the living room to allow the ‘guests’ to have a clear view of the room.

It was Zack’s birthday and they had been planning to have a party for it. Unfortunately, what with the Coronavirus placing everyone in lockdown, it meant that they had to improvise instead.

And so, while Zack had been doing his workout that morning, followed immediately by the happy hour with his band, Y/N used that distraction in order to decorate their living room with balloons and banners. In the meantime, she had gotten as many of their close friends as possible onto Skype - and there were a lot of them at the ready - in the hopes of surprising Zack with some semblance of birthday cheer.

“You guys ready?” Y/N asked, though she wasn’t sure why she did. Of course they were ready, she had been planning this with the help of many of those on the Skype call practically since lockdown started and they had realised that Zack wouldn’t be able to have the real birthday party that they had been planning.

“You in here?” Zack asked from just outside the door.

“Yeah!”

“Am I okay to come in?” Laughter was laced in his words, clearly trying his best to hide his amusement from his wife.

“Of course you can, why wouldn’t you be able to. It’s your house too, remember?” Y/N teased.

“Well you’re just acting very secre-” Zack cut himself off as he entered into the living room, his eyes widening a little. “Secretive,” he repeated,  looking around at the decorations.

“Happy birthday!” The words filled the room, coming out slightly staticy as a result of the words being spoken through Skype on the computer but the sentiment remained the same.

“Happy birthday, Zacky,” Y/N repeated, slightly quieter, a gentle smile on her fae when Zack turned to look at her instead. He wound his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and kissing the top of her head. “I know it’s not exactly the party we’d planned but-”

“It’s perfect. Thank you, baby.”

[foliea]

Cake On Your Birthday - Alex Gaskarth Imagine

Pairing: Alex Gaskarth x Reader

Word Count: 624

Warnings: One cuss word???

Author’s note: Okay so,,,, this is about the song Birthday by All Time Low I’m not sure why I wrote this but I did. Also I have no hate towards Lisa, I just thought this would fit better for Alex :)

“Y/N sweetie? Didn’t All Time Low release a new song?” My mom asked me.

“Yeah it’s called birthday.” I smiled thinking about Lex.

“I hear there’s a music video for it.” Micah remarked with a smirk. “We should watch it.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’ve already seen it?” He shrugged with a little laugh. “Why not, I mean I haven’t seen it.”

I grabbed my laptop and opened YouTube. After finding the video, I turned the screen so everyone could see it.

The video opened up with Alex... tied to a chair. Then Rian also tied to a chair. Then Zack, then Jack, then Alex again. The video only got weirder as it went on. Cake was thrown in their faces, a giant panda showed up at one point, and to top it all off the very awkward synchronized pounding of fist on the table.

By the time the video was done my brother was in hysterics and my mom was utterly confused. “What did I just watch?” My mom asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I-I’m not sure.” I replied, my brother still laughing. “But I do know it had All Time Low written all over it.”

“I’m playing that on your birthday. Wait no you’re wedding!” Micah joked, with a form of seriousness laced in his words.

“Don’t say that around the boys, Jack’ll agree immediately.” laughed along with him.

------

“Lex? Where are you?” I called out.

“Babe?” I followed the sound to the kitchen. “Hey there cutie.”

I stood on my toes and placed my lips on his. “Hiya.” I smiled.

“How was your moms place?”

“Good.” I responded. “We uh watched your music video.”

“Oh uh” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did you like it?”

“Well it was original...” He laughed a bit. “But Micah said he’s gonna play it at our wedding.”

“Our wedding?”

My eyes widened at Alex’s response. “Uh well I mean. Uh I didn’t mean to-”

“Y/N. It’s okay, you’re fine.” He grabbed the sides of my face. “I’m not upset, I promise.”

Alex quickly pressed a kiss to my lips. “I love you, Lex.” I smiled.

“I love you too N/N.”

------

“Happy birthday dork.” I opened eyes to see Alex in front of me.

“Thank you, Lex.” I pecked his cheek.

“Everyone’s downstairs but you looked too cute to wake up.”

I rolled my eyes, getting up. “Give me ten minutes.”

Alex nodded leaving the room. I walked over to my dresser pulling out a Glamour Kills sweater and ripped jeans.

After changing I picked up my phone and walked downstairs. “There she is, the girl of the hour!” Jack exclaimed upon seeing me. “Happy Birthday, freak.”

“Wow thanks Jack.” I sarcastically responded.

“Hey wait I’ve got a video to show everyone.” I turned to Micah who already had the remote to my Roku TV in his hands, ready to open YouTube.

I turned away from the TV to try and find Alex. I spotted him talking to my mom. “Bubs.” I spoke walking towards the pair.

Alex looked over and opened his arms, smiling. “Hello beautiful.” He said wrapping his arms around me.

“Oh shit! I love this song!” Alex and I both looked over to where Jack was stood in front of the TV. The first few cords of Birthday rang out into our living room. Alex let out a laugh as I buried my head into his shoulder.

“Birthday down. Wedding to go.” Micah spoke up after the song finished. The boys ooo’d and Lex laughed again as I rolled my eyes. Although if Alex was as happy as he was now about the song, I would be perfectly fine hearing it then.

[sarahbethimagines]

Chapter 3: Young New England

Chapter Log!

The metal of the storm door rattled loudly as its edge crashed against the rubber heel of my sneaker. Building up and echoing into my house as I pressed the large white door open, somehow knowing it wouldn't be locked. But the sounds erupting around me only escalated from there as the brass hinges instantly threw the door into a pile of large cardboard boxes that had been stacked inside the entry. "Kennedy?" I heard my father called as I looked up from the scattered mess around me to see him emerge from another pile just inside the living room. "You're back!" He exclaimed. "I am..." I dragged softly, once again looking down at my feet. Right where I'd made a habit of kicking my shoes, boxes of varying sizes were now sprayed about like Jenga pieces.

"I've been meaning to call you!" My dad added, swiftly swooping down to fetch the closest box and place it on top a now sideways one in front of the coat closet. Then scratching his balding head, "But I just couldn't seem to find the house phone in well – all of this!" I nodded knowingly now as he motioned to the vast piles of boxes which I learned had exploded all over our previously pristine living room and seemed to only just begun to spill over into the entryway. "What is all of this anyway?" I dared to ask, following in my father's step and lifting a box up onto the one he'd just relocated moments before. Making a home for my dusty sneakers in the process. "Your dorm!" He chirped as I peaked at the return label haphazardly slapped to the box at my feet now. Squinting my eyes to try and as casually as possible make out the offensively small letters printed on it. 'Tuscon, Arizona 85721' "Right..." I pulled, scratching the tip of my small nose. As though any of that was actually supposed to mean something to me in my current state. "I figured in the next few days or so, if you felt up to it that is, you could go through them and sort some stuff out to go into storage for the summer!" He said smiling at me. And I returned the grin warmly. Since the accident and having to digest everything, I've been able to tell how hard this has all been on my dad. And even though on moments recently I would have rather beat him with a photo album than actually look through it. I can tell he's trying, it's not like he asked for any of this either. It's just a difficult pill to swallow. And when someone who wants you to remember the life they seemingly single-handedly provided you is standing over your shoulder; well that only makes it harder. "I think I can do that..." I informed him, causing his grin to grow even wider before he waved me with his rough meaty hands as though to follow him. "Great!" He exclaimed, "I made a path into the kitchen if you were hungry we can look at what there is to eat for dinner! Any ideas?" "Uh... No, not really." I made out softly attempting to match my father's vast strides as he swiftly navigated the leaning towers of boxes with ease. Before, being in this house was weird, but not entirely abnormal feeling. Something about the sand-colored walls and hardwood floors felt comforting. And although I don't exactly remember the years I'm sure I'd spent inside its halls, the house felt like home in some obscure indescribable way. Some things now were a total guessing game, like which toothbrush on the bathroom counter was mine. But other things were not. Some things in my life I found to be innate and almost habitually remembered. For instance, while I had to guess whether I put normal or almond milk on my cereal in the morning, I knew without even skipping a beat that the utensils were in the drawer to the right of the stove, and the bowls in the cupboard left of the microwave. Why or how I knew that is beyond me, but the more I navigated through this life I didn't yet remember, the more I started to pick up on small things I seemingly knew anyway. And the survey of that house was one of the more prominent ones. I didn't have to question, even on the first investigation that just beyond the living room was the dining room, which I also had grown an inkling that we never actually used. And even then, a few days in as I followed my robust father around the last cardboard stack I knew exactly how the kitchen would look when it came into view. Chestnut colored cabinets lined the walls overhead and below. Thick granite countertops were accompanied by a tile backsplash of varying gray, beige, and taupe hues. And a small peninsula jutted out sporting two bar stools which I found myself sliding up onto as my father wrapped around into the heart of the space. "I was just starting to unload the dishes when I heard the door!" He informed me, breaking the brief silence as he made his way to the still ajar stainless appliance. He glanced at me briefly as he flipped the door down, "Where did you run off too anyway?" I signed softly, eyes falling to my hands which had naturally begun to twist themselves into knots. "I don't really know," I admitted thinking of how I'd mindlessly found myself in that field just earlier. Looking up as a glass bowl clanged against a pan as it lifted from the wire brackets of the washer. "I guess I just started to walk to wherever my feet felt like taking me." He hummed softly as he made his way to the cabinet beneath my elbows. "Well good." He nodded, a soft smile and a content expression adorning his tanned wrinkled face. "Maybe getting out of this house a bit will help you relax a little from the stress of everything, that's what you used to do in high school anyway!" "It was?" I questioned, my brows squishing together as my arms folded on the cool countertop. "Oh, all the time!" He brushed off, his smile spreading wider exposing his teeth. "Anytime anything was on your mind there was never any hope of getting you to talk. You'd always just throw on a coat, say you'd be back, and head out the door." I huffed softly to myself as he let the cupboard door slap shut and retreated back to across the kitchen. My lips contorted in an ambiguous manner as I watched the elder man move effortlessly through his actions. "And you trusted me to just up and do that?" I couldn't help but ask. "Of course!" He basically laughed. "You were always honest with me if you'd ever gotten into trouble, and well, I raised you after all, so I'd be damned if you didn't have a good head on those shoulders." That remark, though it made me laugh, settled thickly in the bottom of my stomach. I'm sure it was true. As I watched him smile over at me for a brief moment, his eyes radiated nothing but pride and happiness, and although my stomach was twisting itself into a friendship bracelet of guilt and confusion; the look in his eyes dulled the pain, even if just slightly. He looked so happy then to talk about the version of me he'd known so well, that knew him just the same. The little girl who'd grown into a seemingly independent college student whom he didn't have to explain anything too. I looked down at my hands again, crossed over sun-kissed arms and painted with small scattered freckles, and I thought to myself about the past few hours I'd had. Since returning small bits of me had been coming back, realizations or epiphanies. But never as full or as vivid as I'd experienced that afternoon. The memories I'd had – well, experienced really – of Alex and I were so drastically different than any other small bit of information I'd collected beforehand in ways I couldn't even begin to describe in a manner that would do the sensation justice. It was like flipping through television channels in my mind and falling smack dab in the middle of a movie I knew I'd seen before and yet knew nothing about. Where I didn't know or understand the plot line, or any of the actors, and yet I was the leading role. And everyone around me had the script encrypted into their memory. I knew these were my memories, and I was the girl whose eyes I was watching them through. But more than anything it felt like I was watching home films from a first-person point of view. And the more I thought about what I'd experienced that day, the more I began to contemplate the idea of sharing that with my father. The boy I'd remembered – Alex. I didn't even realize the mental manhole I'd fallen into till the clashing of pans and my father's voice pulled me out of it. Halting any and all developing intentions of entertaining such an idea of sharing. "You alright kiddo?" My dad asked as he pulled a frying pan from under the peninsula. I nodded, giving my head a small shake as I fluffed the haze from my eyes and unraveled my arms. "Yeah, my head just hurts..." I softly informed. Pressing my hands on the slick granite and flopping my feet to the floor. "I think I'm going to go lay down 'till dinner." He nodded softly as I turned my back on the kitchen and began to weave back through the boxes and clutter filling our home. Without even thinking, I wrapped my hand around the wooden railing and ascended the stairs making my way towards my bedroom. I don't know how I knew, or why it was then my feet decided to carry me to the third door from the stairs. The thin white wood with a prominent black 'K' painted smack dab in the center of it. But as I ran my fingers down the grooves in the thickly laid paint, the sides of my palms lightly brushed the edges of a few faded photographs I couldn't have been bothered to look at just yet. Instead, my hand continued its venture, taking in the soft indents of the grain before it reached the round silver nob. I'd yet to be inside my bedroom since I'd returned home. Mostly from fear. I was afraid of what would happen if I ventured through that door. I was fearful of being surrounded by everything I once valued so highly I desired to keep them as close to me as possible and wake up surrounded by every morning – and remembering none of it. But now, after all that had happened that day, and those few things I'd begun to remember I felt differently. Anxiety still contaminated my blood with every pump of my apprehensive heart. Fear of stepping through the threshold and examining all that laid behind it and remembering nothing still filled my mind and stalled my hand at the nob. But with every second I remained on the other side of that shut door, I kept myself from possibly remembering who I was. Maybe now that the memories had started to flow without even trying, they would just keep coming. And If I had any hope of remembering who I was beyond a girl with a sugar addiction and a possibly alcoholic friend, I needed to take some initiative. Above all other feelings that came with forgetting every aspect of who you are, frustration was by far the most prominent. Behind the guilt, sadness, confusion, and all too real headaches. The feeling of being so completely frustrated with myself had begun to slowly consume every breath I took in this new empty life I'd woken up too. And I wanted more than anything to make it go away. And I truly do believe looking back now, that the desire to rid my mind and being from the never-ending frustration was just strong enough in that moment to trump the fear that had been keeping me in the hallway those past few days. And finally, I built up the courage or frustration should I say, to wrap my nimble fingers around that glistening nob and turn it gently, pushing my bedroom door wide open with creaky ease. In a matter of seconds, I was consumed with the soft yet prominent scent of sandalwood and vanilla that pulled me slowly across the threshold by my nose. And I was greeted on the other side by light grey walls, their color only making its presence known in certain sections while the majority was masked by an eclectic collection of posters, photographs, drawings, and painted crafts. Right inside the door I stepped towards a large, open closet with two bi-folding doors painted the same color as the one I'd just pressed open. And as I made my way around to the front of it, I found a long white dresser, clothes still spilling from its drawers and onto the floor where I must have last left them. Placed on top, I found a small display of a few framed photographs I didn't bother to look too closely at and two large candles with their lids missing I assumed to be filling the room with the familiar custom scent I felt in my core belonged to myself. Continuing on my slow adventure of my own sleeping quarters, I hesitantly moved onto the white mirrored desk between two rather large windows. I ran my fingers across the slick glass that topped it, gazing quickly at the concert tickets and movie stubs I'd shoved beneath it, smiling at their presence although the headache in the front of my head remained dull and constant from before. That was until I moved right past the bookshelf overflowing with an obnoxious number of knickknacks and mementos and swiftly stepped to the small nightstand just beside my bed. On it I found a petite, tea light sized scented candle, and two photographs encased in glass. Subconsciously, my mind reached for one of them. A small black, perfectly squared frame with a rather poor-quality photo collage type image inside. Squinting at the picture, I couldn't help but brush the tips of my fingers down it as I sat on the very edge of my still unmade bed, the pounding in my head slowly beginning to increase in intensity. Four small photos were cropped together, a progression of one short scene and the closer and the longer I looked eventually I came to the realization that one of the two girls shown in the image was me. I was sat in a brightly colored stripped hammock with a tanned blonde girl.Scrunching my lips, I stared at the smiling figures as they – we, I guess – progressively fell off the hammock in our fits of laughter captured in these four tiny images. I almost let out an audible whine as a stabbing pain shot through the front of my head straight to the back of my skull. Shutting my eyes, I reached with my free hand to rub the small space between my thin brows and grimaced. The pain pulling me from the bedroom I'd just rediscovered and into a world, I knew but couldn't remember. "This is literally so unfair Em!" I whined, throwing myself down onto my puffy comforter as I pressed the large beige house phone to my ear. "How can he just rip me away from my entire life – and right before high school!" A muffled sigh came from the other side of the phone as I rolled to my stomach. My long brown strands softly falling to my cheeks as I pouted to no one at all. "I don't know..." My best friend quietly muttered from the other end of the line. "Did he give you any warning at all?" "Like no!" I proclaimed rather dramatically. "I knew he hated this house once Jake and mom moved out and all - but moving to a completely different state is just totally ridiculous! He can't actually expect me to do that can he?" I exclaimed to the blonde. "I don't know, Kenn" She whined in agreement, which only made the sinking feeling in my stomach feel even heavier. So heavy in fact I was almost certain it would leave a lasting dent in the memory foam beneath me. "How am I supposed to go to high school without you, we never do anything alone!" "Exactly!" I shrilled back. Crawling just slightly up my bed I grabbed hold of the nearest pillow my stumpy arms could reach and dragged it under my upper body. The soft pink fluffs not doing nearly enough to comfort the complete and total tragedy I was currently going through. After my parent's divorce finalized, everything was supposed to be great! It was just supposed to be me and my dad against the world, and now it just felt like the world and my father were only conspiring against me. I came home from school, feeling so excited for summer being right around the corner and thinking I'd just be able to goof off and do absolutely nothing with Emily every single day. And instead, I came home to my dad packing the fine china from the large glass display it never – ever – left and stuffing them in boxes. And as hard as I hoped he was finally just taking the gaudy stuff down and sending it off to my mother. That dream was quickly crushed when he sat me down at the dinner table and told me he'd taken a slightly better job offer in Baltimore, and we'd be moving in just a few weeks. Destined to downsize from the beautiful childhood home I'd grown to know and love for something subpar and suburban within driving distance of a city that could never compare to Boston. At least not to me. And this was all to go down in a matter of weeks! "This is so unfair!" I spewed again for what was probably the millionth time in just that brief phone conversation alone and I pushed myself to my feet. "How on Earth did he think that this would just be okay to spring on me after everything else I've had to deal with this year!" "So unfair..." She agreed yet again, I knew deep down as upset as I knew she was, and we both were, that to some extent she would have normally called me dramatic. But in my defense, if there were any time for a teenage girl to be dramatic this was that time! Emily and I had basically been attached at the hip well – our entire lives! And now that was alljust going to be ripped out from under me, and I didn't have a single ounce of a say in the matter. No matter how loud I screamed or how big of a temper tantrum I threw, I knew all attempts would be proven futile in mere seconds. My whole life as I'd known it had been torn apart that year and all I had left was my best friend and my finally perfect bedroom. And now, it was only a matter of weeks, no days really, before that too would be stripped from me and I'd be left with absolutely nothing to hold onto to my sanity with. I looked around my room and grimaced at the idea of someone else living in what I'd spent so long to perfect. Whoever it would be would only destroy it. They wouldn't care about how much time I'd spent and how much I annoyed my father in order to find the most perfect shade of lilac to ever exist for its walls. They wouldn't care how innovative the chalkboard I'd painted over my bed was. They wouldn't know when to shut the shades in the summer so the room didn't get stuffy, or to toss a sneaker in the door to keep the draft from making it slam. They wouldn't know the patch under the carpet by the closet where the wood panels squeak in the winter. They wouldn't know anything about this room. This was my room and soon enough someone else would be living in it and mucking it up with whatever garbage they brought in with them. Some teenage boy would probably get it and ruin the perfect scent I'd finally managed to have linger without ever having to light a candle. Taint it with dirty socks and hockey pads and mud-caked soccer cleats and ruin everything I'd done to make it my picture-perfect dream room after all these years. And the worst part was, I wouldn't even get to enjoy it now that I'd finally perfected it. I'd just have to leave it to let the carpet be rotted away by stale boy stench and filthy laundry. Sighing loudly down the now silent phone line, I walked over to my bedside and picked up the newest addition to my impeccable collection. Four small photos I'd mashed together of Emily and me just a week or so before when the sun had finally heated the New England air to hit 70 degrees, and all hell broke loose in Essex County. Pools were opened, jeans were shortened and sneakers had been ditched quickly for flipflops. It was a perfect day sitting on Gracie's pool deck with all our friends, and it was what I thought to be the perfect start to what was supposed to be the perfect summer. And now I stared down at the photos of Em and I falling off the hammock, the laughter still ringing clearly in my ear as I stared at it, but I couldn't feel the warmth the photos provided me when I'd slid them into their slick frame. Instead, I felt cold and empty. Everything I'd been smiling about in those photos wouldn't be even a possibility soon enough. I wouldn't have my perfect summer with my best friends. I wouldn't have more pool day's lounging around with Em and Gracie. I wouldn't get the movie-esc first day of high school me and Emily had been talking about and obsessing over since sixth grade. Soon enough, all I'd have to feel close to this place, and this room and Emily herself would be these photos in this small black picture frame. "You'll still be my friend Em, right?" I asked her tentatively, hands shaking ever so slightly as I sat on the edge of my bed. The anger I'd been feeling just moments before had quickly dissipated into crippling fear of yet another giant change about to shake my life up. "Always." She said, quickly and with certainty, her tone never wavering. "You're my ride or die Kenn, till the end!" Her remark gave me the slightest ability to smile as I nodded, even though she couldn't see, I knew she could picture my reaction better than I could even act it after all these years. "You'll always be my favorite sister, I hope you know that." "Shut up, twinnie!" She laughed fully then, I could practically hear her shaking her head nonchalantly. "You're moving, not dying, and if you think a few state lines are going to get rid of me that easily well, you're crazier than the cast of Laguna Beach!" "You're right, you're right!" I managed to giggle, feeling slightly better – but just slightly. Emily was my best friend in the entire world, and more than anything, more than leaving my house, my school, or my perfect room, I was terrified of having to live my life without her being no more than two blocks away at all times. Her reassurance filled me with a mild sense of comfort that moving wouldn't completely wash her from my life. But deep down I knew being states away would change everything for us in some way or another. And even just telling myself that, I lost any ability to stop the tear that had slowly been building from slipping onto my cheek from the edge of my baby blue eyes. Blinking, and wiping at my face, I almost didn't realize I had slipped from the memory almost as seamlessly as I had slipped in. Hands shaking, and slightly damp now from the streams that had been pouring down my face for what must have been some time now, I reached out to place the frame back where I'd snatched it from. Head aching from the flashback. In the small clean strip left on the dust-coated nightstand, I placed it back down perfectly beside the most ridiculous photo of Jack and Alex I'd taken our sophomore year. I was quick then to finish wiping my eyes before letting my head smack my stale pillow and my hands mindlessly find the edge of my puffy back comforter, pulling it up over my shoulders. It all happened so quickly, shutting my eyes and swiftly drifting off as I silently prayed for a moment of rest that was absent of nightmares or any more memories for that day. I almost didn't even realize what I'd remembered without even thinking about, I knew the name of the boy in the other photograph. That I somehow remembered Jack Barakat.

[whimsandfanfiction]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: All Time Low (Band), Jasey Rae - All Time Low (Song) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Barakat & Original Female Character(s), Alex Gaskarth/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Alex Gaskarth, Jack Barakat, Zack Merrick, Rian Dawson, Jasey Rae, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: young adult, all time low - Freeform, chosen family, Dysfunctional Family Summary:

Jasey Rae Thomas can't remember the last time she felt truly happy. After her parents' traumatic divorce, her mother became a different person and so did Jasey. Years later, when legal troubles come up and Jasey's mother is no longer fit to parent her, Jasey is relocated to what feels like a strange trip to the past. She goes to seek refuge for the summer with an old family friend and her son, Alex, who used to be Jasey's closest friend growing up. She hopes she can fit into her old life or salvage some happy memories from the past. But Jasey is keeping secrets and it's only a matter of time before her darker sides come to light. Will she ever be able to heal and move forward, or will it all just blow up in her face?

[frnk-iero-simp]

Everyone shut the fuck up I’m writing fanfic and listening to All Time Low.

[gskarth]

18 and Zack please? You're my favourite blog- sending massive hugs! X

“What are we? 15?” Zack jokes as he plops himself down beside you on Alex’s couch. You, along with the rest of the boys and some other drunken party goers, are gathered around Alex’s living room, playing a rather juvenile game of truth or dare.

“Shh,” Jack hushes the muscular boy, his eyes focused on Alex as he reaches over and gives an empty beer bottle a significant spin in the middle of the coffee-table. You let out a small laugh as Zack rolls his eyes.

The bottle lands on a girl Zack’s never seen before in his life. She chooses truth and the circle is immediately booing but she refuses to change her choice, having to answer some overtly sexual question which causes her to flush bright red. 

“Wow, this is dumb,” Zack mumbles under his breath, only audible enough for you to hear, although you were sure that wasn’t his intent. You turn to him with a smirk and he chuckles a little, raising his brows at you to challenge him. 

“Here,” you say, grabbing a full bottle of beer off the table and placing the cold glass in Zack’s large hand. He grasps it firmly, a smile toying at his lips. You grab the closest bottle opener and pop the cap off it, smiling smugly at him as you tip the bottom of the glass up towards his lips. “Have a drink, relax, become less boring,” you tease with a smile, watching as his lips curl upwards into a smirk at the neck of the bottle.

“If you insist,” he mutters, taking a long pull from the drink. You watch him and as he pulls back he looks at you for approval, cocking a brow at you. You nod, satisfied and turn back to the game which has continued without the pair of you.

The girl, having successfully completed her turn, now reaches over to spin the bottle in one quick, fluid motion. It comes to a slow stop, the neck pointing directly at an already groaning Zack. You let out a giggle, biting your lower lip in an attempt to smother your laughter. He shoots you a glare whilst Jack practically lunges out of his seat. “I dare you to streak!” he suggests, excitement foaming in his expression.

“I didn’t even choose truth or-” Zack begins to argue, but the group are already cheering and hollering at the suggestion, a smug smile plastering across Jack’s face. “I’m not streaking,” Zack mumbles adamantly, taking another sip from his beer as he shakes his head.

You’re unsure as to how Jack had managed to convince Zack to go fully nude and run up and down Alex’s street, but in front of you stood a very much naked, flushed red with embarrassment and cold, Zack Merrick. You’re laughing, holding a pile of Zack’s clothing in your arms, as Jack explains the rules to the muscular, rather impressively built man. “Okay, okay, I’m fuckin’ freezing, let’s just do this,” Zack mumbles, bouncing on his feet, cupping his intimate parts with both hands, preserving absolutely no heat.

You’d seen Zack shirtless plenty of times, in fact, probably more often than not, but it was always a welcomed sight. His well defined abs, his broad shoulders, his toned arms. You’d never seen this much of him before, however, and you can’t stop your eyes from travelling lower. Inspecting the ridges of his V-line, the clear outline of his calf muscles, his wide thighs that could easily crush your skull with little to no effort. “Okay, go!” Jack exclaims, waving his arm as if this is the beginning of a race. 

Zack takes off as if he’s on fire, which is quite the opposite. You’re surrounded by laughter as you, and your friends, all watch his tanlined butt jiggle as he runs at a speed you’d never seen him move before, desperate to get this over with.

You’re all laughing and clapping wildly as he sprints back to Alex’s front door, almost slamming into the crowd that’s formed at the doorway as he charges inside, needing the warmth - or lack there of. “Good job!” Rian chuckles, slapping Zack’s wind-stung back hard, leaving a white handprint in his now red skin. He winces as people disperse, heading back to the living area. 

Zack’s panting, clearly winded - not from the running, you suspect, but from the breathtaking chill in the air. He slips into the tiny bathroom beneath the stairs. “Hey, Y/N? My clothes?” he speaks, his voice ragged as he tries to even his breathing. 

“Oh,” you mumble, finally snapping out of your thoughts. You open the bathroom door and step inside without even thinking and Zack immediately jumps back, covering himself. He raises his brows at you and you feel a blush light up your cheeks, a gulp slipping down your throat, but a smile twitches at your lips. “Hmm, cold out there?” you tease. You hadn’t actually seen much, but you wouldn’t deny an opportunity to make him squirm.

He lets out a fake laugh, narrowing his eyes at you. But you see that little spark of uncertainty, the nervous croak in his tone, the nibbling of his lips. You inch closer to him and he seems lost for a moment, captivated by the small movement which, had his nerves not been set alight, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. “Fuck you,” he scoffs, looking down with a light blush creeping up his neck. He turns a little, avoiding your gaze and shuffling his feet.

You keep your eyes on him, reading his responses as you move closer and closer to him, until your close enough for your breath to tickle his skin, warming him up. He turns to you now and the pair of you are pressed flush against eachother, eyes locked in an empty conversation. There’s a magnetic force between you and your lips are slowly pulled together. You drop his clothes from your hands and that motion is enough to push him further, confident sparking in him.

“If you insist,” you respond, your voice sultry and smooth, like silk encasing him and causing a growl to burn in his throat as his hands reach for the sides of your face, pulling you roughly towards him and pressing his lips to yours valiantly, the pressure enough to coax a moan from your smothered lips. 

Your hands tangle into his hair in an almost aggressive manor as he hitches you up onto the sink, reaching over to lock the door as you wrap your legs around his bare hips, your heels digging into him as you pull him as close as possible, kissing him with such force and need that the pair of you are completely blindsided, lost in the fleeting moment.

[fangirl94stuff]

All Time Low: Zack Merrick

Y/N

You were cleaning up your bedroom having cleaned the whole apartment when you feel a pair of hands cover your eyes from behind, making you jump backwards and stifle a scream as a familiar male voice howls with laughter.

'Don't fret, it's just me!' Zack laughs.

You remove his hands and punch him in the chest, 'you asshole, wear a bell or something next time you decide to sneak up on me.'

Zack grabs you around the waist, and dips you back before kissing you quite passionately, 'I think you'd suit a bell more y/n. Now give me some love.'

As much as you want to kiss him back and sleep together, you had bigger fish to fry, and Zack turning up out of the blue had thrown a wrench in your perfect plan. You push yourself out of Zack's embrace and shake your head.

'You need to hide, my brother's coming over any minute now,' you hiss.

Zack's eyes widened, Alex was his best friend and bandmate as well as being your big brother, who was very protective and anti-any relationship, especially with any member of All Time Low. Alex could be a big cuddly goofball, but you didn't want to see his angry side because it had made many of your dates growing up cry like little babies, and you feared what he'd do to Zack if he found out.

'Hey sis, where are you?' Alex calls out from the lounge.

In a panic, you open your wardrobe and all but shove Zack inside and slam the door shut, 'I'll be out in a second brother.'

Walking into the lounge you embrace your brother and prey Zack stays hidden. Though you got a kick out of hiding him just like he hid the many girls that came before you, maybe he could use this time as reflection.

TIMESKIP

Thankfully Alex didn't stay too long, he had some things to drop off from your parents before having to go deal with his own business. You close the front door and lock it, peeping through the peephole watching until your brother got in his car and pulled away.

'I like being your dirty little secret Miss Gaskarth,' Zack whispers in your ear, making you jump back into his chest, but he simply picks you up and carries you towards the bedroom, 'now shall we pick up where we left off?'

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, 'Oh I know you're getting a kick out of this Merrick, sometimes I question you.'

One day you hoped you could share your relationship with your brother, but Zack had to prove that he loved you and wasn't just using you. Zack was taking your secret relationship seriously and Alex was slowly noticing small changes in his friend he approved of. Just how much longer you had to hide in the darkness you had no clue.

[justacouplebandfics]

We’ve got scars on our future hearts (Jalex) - Masterlist

Description: Alex dealt with self harm when he was younger, that’s over now though- he’s better, until he’s not. Struggling with the idea of self harming as an adult Alex keeps the issue to himself, but living on a tour bus with your band there’s only so long you can keep something a secret.

Warning: Contains graphic descriptions of self harm

It’s also available here on Wattpad.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[jackinalex]

Kalina’s Summer 2022 Fanfiction Contest

Update: July 29, 2022. Surprise! I’m extending the deadline to enter and submit. I had some late interest in the contest and I want as many entries as possible. So if you wanted to enter before and didn’t get a chance to, you can now!

In an attempt to generate more fics for this fandom, I will be holding a contest! I’ve thought a lot about due dates and themes and such, and I think I’ve come up with a cohesive (though tentative!) plan. I just want us to all have more to read and I want to give you all some inspiration and drive to write! I do want to thank the lovely mods over at @alltimefanfiction because I was very inspired by them and their frequent fic contests. Check them out! Anyway, click the read more to read the rules and see how you can take part in the contest. 

For this contest, I will be using a trope randomizer. Each contestant will be given a trope at random and must center their fic around that trope somehow. Other than that, you have total creative freedom. I think that it would be best if these fics only have one part, however, because it will be much easier for me to keep track of everyone’s stories. I am going to make a limit of twenty contestants (though I doubt I will have that many) just because it will take time for everyone to finish writing and for me to read all of the fics. If you’re interested, let me know off anon and I will add your name (or username, whatever you prefer) to the list of contestants. I will also give you your randomized trope. Of course, if you are not comfortable with the trope you are given, please do not hesitate to let me know. Additionally, if there is anything you are not comfortable with that you already know of, do let me know with the first message. 

Rules: 

1. Minimum of words. No maximum, but if it’s gonna be 20k or above, try to let me know beforehand lol.

2. You may write about any pairing (or poly relationship) you want. It can be atl band/atl band, atl band/atl crew, atl crew/atl crew, atl band/other band, atl band/oc, etc. You also don’t have to have a particular pairing if you don’t want to

3. Your story must be written after you receive your trope. Do not post something that was already prewritten (unless it was in very early stages and receives heavy revision). 

4. You can post on whatever platform you prefer, but I am going to recommend AO3 as it is the easiest and most user-friendly.

5. Once again, only twenty people can enter. 

6. If you happen to change your username or switch blogs during the contest, let me know so I don’t lose you. 

Deadlines: 

Please enter by Monday, August 8th so that I can get the ball rolling. Once school starts for me, I will progressively get busier and busier and I do not want to make you guys wait a long time for results. 

Your entries should be posted by Saturday, October 8th. School will be in session for me by then, but I also don’t want you guys to feel rushed. If all entrants finish before that date, great, but do not worry about rushing to get finished. If you need an extension, just please let me know as soon as possible. 

If you want to drop out, please let me know as soon as possible. 

Prizes: TBD 

Please send me asks/messages about what you guys might want! I have a few ideas in mind, but I wanna hear from you guys. I’ll try to get those figured out this week, so long as things go well lol. I think we’ll have three places with prizes for all.

I’m so excited about this and I know a lot of y’all are, too. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to send me a message or an ask. I hope to hear from y’all soon! I’ll be tagging this post and all others following about the contest as #ksfc. 

Entrants: 

1. razz @astrophysicist-not-princess

2. liv @atlfics

3. mell @melljunee

4. eve @ocalaghan

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

It’s Zack Merrick’s birthday today and honestly I love him so much and very much want to write for him so like... help me out?? Send some Zack requests??

[getawaygaskarth]

x | give credit if used

yeah i chose Rian

[sarahbethimagines]

Chapter 7: Just a Kid (possible warning)

Chapter Log!

"I'll be up here if you need me!" I called to my dad as I kicked my bedroom door open with my foot and slid into the decently sized space. Not really bothering to wait for any acknowledgment that he'd even heard me. A smile found its way to my lips as I sucked in a deep breath and looked around the room. Feeling content inside its four walls as I made my way over and flopped onto my bed. Now happy and full after the home cooked meal my father had made for the two of us just before, and just thinking on that day. While I hadn't planned on waking up when I did, I don't think even if I'd woken up on my own I would have anticipated that day to go as it had. But thinking back on it, I was pleased with the events that had transpired. And in comparison, to the day before, and all those that had succeeded it I'd remembered quite a lot. From owning the car to meeting Alex, to solidifying my hope that I had more than just him as a friend. Not that Alex seemed to be a bad friend from the fragments I'd collected, but it was reassuring, to say the least, that he wasn't the only person I'd found to deal with me in the four-plus years I'd spent in this town.

I smiled to myself as I went through all that I had discovered about my past. I really was making progress and I was happy that come Friday I would be able to report all of this with a smile to my doctor. It's still not easy to forget who you are, but when things come back to me I've learned I have to take them in strides no matter how big or small a step they may be. Slowly but surely, I was inching my way back to myself and I should be grateful for that. And I think I really was trying to be. Folding my hands over my stomach, I looked around at the varying decorations which littered my walls. I hadn't really taken the time to soak in anything I'd chosen to hang on them the day before. And while I wasn't trying to make anything come to me as I examined them now, I found it interesting to just acknowledge all I'd collected in high school and summers past. The majority were poorly taped drawings and band posters, but there was the occasional photograph or picture frame scattered into the mix. Nothing I could clearly make out from my place sprawled on my back. My fingertips had begun to tap a beat by my bellybutton when my eyes scanned across to the other side of my room where they caught sight of a poster I instantly recognized. The large square print captured the album art to Jimmy Eat World's album Bleed American. And even though I couldn't quite put my finger on any song titles, or what it even sounded like. I knew I loved that album somehow. And I smiled. But That wasn't what truly captured my attention about it. The poster was taped at just the top two corners, clear scotch tape pressed into the wall I'm sure would destroy the paint if I ever tried to remove it. And the air flowing in through the window just beside it was lifting the bottom of this poster up. Letting it flutter softly in the light steady breeze. I squinted at the wall being exposed with every gust of wind, as something just barely visible in its center peaked my curiosity. Just enough to pull me into the sitting position by my intrigued mind. I slowly clambered to my feet and shuffled on my socks across the carpet to the poster and lifted it up, exposing a rather decently sized indent in the drywall where the gray flecks had chipped off, letting the light hit the white chalk-like material which lay underneath. "The Hell?" I whispered softly to myself as I ran my hand down the dent, pulling it away and rubbing the white dust between my fingers. Staring back and forth between my now dirty hand and the indentation. I felt something quickly stab at the side of my head which caused me to cringe. I squinted at my wall, lips contorting for a second as I stared before reaching up and touching it again. The small seemingly innocent act suddenly caused that dull stab to be dragged violently through the entirety of my body. From my finger, up through the deep folds of my brain and down to my feet, the pain coursed through me. Stumbling back a step or so, I managed to catch myself and reach up to grasp my head. A memory taking me over and sucking me down a black hole. A sound mixed between a sob and a wince ripped through my throat as I choked down another swig of the whiskey. Letting the crimson liquid, I'd swiped from my father's precious liquor cabinet burn long jagged holes in my throat as it crawled its way down to my stomach. The only other sound filling my room beside my violent sniffles was the crunching and cackling of papers and letters beneath my feet as I paced around the space. I lifted the thick glass bottle to my lips again, wiping the hot tears that streamed down my face from sight with my free hand. Not caring how mad my father would be to find the bottle missing and empty beneath my bed. Maybe if I was lucky he'd actually kill me this time. Then I wouldn't have to feel this way. I let out an innate hiss as the whiskey went down and I kicked the empty bottle of Smirnoff I'd finished long ago at my feet. Sending it flying across the room and rolling under my dresser. Everything was slowly beginning to spin around me. But whether it was from the copious amounts of alcohol I'd consumed or just the anger and hurt flooding my overworking brain, I wasn't certain. I took one last swig for the moment and kicked some more of the papers beneath me, sending them fluttering around in the still cold air which was spilling through the window by my side. I glared down at the stack of letters and photographs spread across my cream-colored carpet. The moonlight from outside catching the edge of a single framed photo causing it to glisten so bright even I could see it through tear clouded eyes. "Oh, you fucking bitch." I spat, reaching down and picking it up in a fowl swoop. Holding it now, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, just letting the glass bottle roughly bang against my cheekbones. I couldn't feel a thing anymore anyway. I was numb. My chest was heaving up and down I'd been crying so hard for so long. Completely unable to catch breaths between the hefty swigs I'd been forcing back as I stared, sniffling at the frame. Inside, sat a photo of me and my mother, I remembered exactly the day it was taken. Clothed in the most beautiful frilly pink dress with small white polka dots. My mother stood behind me knotting my hair into a stumpy French braid. It was my fifth birthday. But all I could see now was what she'd scratched across the glass in a skipping red sharpie before she threw it in the box with all the others. Shipping them off for me to receive on this very day. 'THE LAST DAY I EVER LOVED YOU' was written now in the same handwriting I'd always received on little love-filled notes in my lunch box. Now, it scrawled a proclamation that in her eyes I was no longer considered her child. Exactly ten years after the original photo was taken. A sob ripped through me, and I fell to my knees amidst everything else she'd deemed useless to hold onto back in New England. Everything and anything that was related to me. Chocking and coughing now I cried, unable to move for a moment as my heart began to shred itself into nothing within my chest. My only solution then was to press the lip of the bottle to my own, kissing it in an attempt to fill the empty cavern my heart once held with the scorching hot whiskey. I placed the bottle down slowly, my other hand still clutching the frame for dear life as I struggled to push myself back to my feet. Knees trembled and knocked together with every step as I staggered to my bed where I'd thrown the house phone. Not knowing what I was actually trying to achieve or get at, I picked it up and began to dial a number I'd once known so well and loved so much. I pressed it to my ear and listened to the empty dial tone as I swayed on my feet. Four... Five... Six times it rang as I counted. The scowl on my face growing deeper and deeper the longer I stood. Till finally a click escaped between my heavy breaths, and the automated track of her answering machine began to swirl through my ear canal. Mindlessly my mouth fell open and an Earth-shattering screech ripped out as I dropped the phone to the floor. The back popping off and skidding onto the letters. My mind and heart were racing. Against me, against one another. I couldn't take it. My head was screaming at me, at my lungs, at my heart, at my sobs. A strangled whimper left me and without even thinking, I whipped the frame I'd still been clutching across the room and into my wall. Without even flinching, I watched as though in slow motion as the frame collided with the drywall. Glass shattered and sprayed through the air like fireworks display before cascading to the floor in a glistening mess. All that matched my whimpers was the echoing boom of the wooden frame splintering and spilling to the carpet. I glared at the mess I'd made of my wall and my floor; expression unwavering and unapologetic as finally silent tears continued to escape my eyes and pour down my cheeks. I had no intention of moving. The smallest bit of release had eased off my shoulders at the sight of glass dancing to the floor. I would have been content in standing there and staring down with clenched fists till the sun rose and my father came home. But the universe, as always had other plans. Right on cue, my small silver cell phone began to violently ring and vibrate on the nightstand behind me. I didn't have to look to know exactly who it was, or even what time it had been. And had I bothered to, I would have been right on the money with my hostile assumption. It was precisely 12:01 AM on April 12th, 2003. I was officially fifteen. I'd been expecting that call excitedly all afternoon. And now I wanted more than anything for that phone to halt its obnoxious sounds and die on the spot. Only I knew it wouldn't. I knew he'd assume I was asleep and keep calling till morning came in attempts to wake me from the slumber I wasn't even in. And I couldn't think with that damned ringing going on. I turned almost too quickly on my unsteady feet and snatched it from the stand, flipping the small grey device open with brute force. "HAPPY BIRTHDA-" "What?" I barked down the phone, cutting him off. My throat thick with whiskey and tears that had rubbed it raw, making me flinch at the sound of my own harsh tone. For a second, he said nothing. Seemingly listening to the blended sounds of sniffles and sighs escaping my mouth and sliding down the phone line. "Dee?" He called, concern filling his words. "what's wrong?" I pursed my lips and looked around the mess I'd made of my room. Physically feeling my eyes starting to burn again as red-hot tears pooled in my lower lids, threatening to spill any second. I took a sharp and shaky breath in as I shook my head. Like he could see me just then, the hot mess I truly was in all my damaged glory. "Are you okay?" He asked again, and I could judge from the ruffling happening in the background of the call he was slowly starting to get out of bed and move around the room. "No." I made out, my voice sounding flat and emotionless as I shut my eyes and felt small tears spill onto the apples of my cheeks. "I'm not okay." "Where are you?" He quickly asked as I heard a creaky dresser drawer slide open. "What's going on?" "Don't come after me," I told him, walking over and snatching the bottle of Maker's Mark from the floor once again. Slowly running my thumb over the red wax dripped down its neck. "You'll only be wasting your time." He stopped his movements for a second. "Kennedy, what do you mean, you're scaring me." He whispered in shaky notes as I tipped the bottle back yet again. "I'm a waste of space!" I snapped once I'd pulled the bottle back. "Trying to help me is pointless because I destroy everything I touch and I'll only destroy you like I did this family!" "I'm coming over." He said plainly, certainty dripping from his tone as he started to move around his room again. The sounds faster and more frequent now in the background. "DON'T!" I hissed down the line, squeezing the life out if that whiskey bottle. He didn't bother to answer me for a passing moment while I waited and listened closely. Hearing the jingle of his car keys, something inside me started to snap. "I won't be here, don't bother." "Kennedy Paige Murphy!" He barked back at me, causing me to flinch at his use of my full name. Something he almost never did. "Don't do anything!" He all but yelled, and I heard something crack in the back of his throat. "I'm coming right now, please don't move..." I could hear his front door open and the sounds of outside fluttering in that were followed quickly by the sound of his truck door opening. "You're scaring me, Kennedy..." He whispered when the door shut again. And I could hear it then. He was crying. At the sound and the realization, a sob ripped through me again, my face contorting as I fell to my knees. The bottle slid seamlessly from my hand and flopped to the floor, honey-like liquid dripped out onto the letters and the carpet as I clutched the side of my head. "I'm so scared, Alex..." I admitted then, words shaking off my tongue and into my tears. "What's happening to me?" I quickly stumbled back from the wall, tripping over my own two feet and falling flat on my ass. My chest was heaving wildly as my head spun and tears continued to pour down my face. All I could do in that instant was clutch my chest in an attempt to stop the pain that was ripping through me as though that had all just happened again in real time. Right before my very eyes. Every emotion I'd experienced that night was still being thrown around my mind. Smashing into the walls of my head causing the rippling pain from before to only heighten. All the pain, confusion, fear and hurt was still drowning me from the inside out. And I couldn't do a single thing to stop it. I tried my hardest to control the sobs that were spilling from my mouth uncontrollably, sinking my teeth down into my lips. I scooted further and further from the small dent in the wall that had just shaken me to my very core. I kept scooting backward on my butt till my back hit the frame of my bed causing something to tilt off the side and land on the floor with a light thud. I almost didn't even hear it over my heavy breathing, but still, I hesitantly turned my head to see my cell phone lying face down beside me. I didn't even give myself a second to think before I snatched the maroon colored sidekick off the ground with shaky hands and instantly searched for a name in my contact list. One of the very few that would jump out at me among all the rest. Once I found it, I didn't even pause before tapping the name and pressing down on the green call button with all my fleeting force before pressing it to my ear. Hoping and praying he would answer. A mangled hiccup left my lips while I waited, using my free arm I pulled my bare knees tightly into my chest while I tried my best to rock myself from my place on the floor. "Kennedy?" He questioned down the line once he answered. The sound of his familiar voice bringing both comfort and fear back to the front of my mind. And when I tried to respond, all that came out of me was soft sob-like sounds. "Hey, are you okay?" He quickly asked, and I instantly felt like I'd somehow slipped back into the memory I was now trying so desperately hard to forget. "A-Alex!" I cried out, knotting my free hand in my hair and giving it a tug in some half-assed attempt to distract myself from a splitting migraine inside me. I could hardly speak; my throat was swollen shut as I tried to get anything at all out. "B-Birthday..." "What?" He rushed, completely alert sounding now. "Kennedy, what happened?" "I remembered..." I sniffled, releasing my hair in order to wipe my eyes. "Why did I have to remember that?" I cried, "WHY?" "What Kennedy, what did you remember?" He ushered, his voice dropping and leveling out as though he was trying to control his emotions. Probably figuring damn well I couldn't. "My birthday..." I spilled. Holding my head again as I heard Alex fall silent. Seeming to instantly connect all the dots I didn't understand and was now uncertain of if I even wanted too. What felt like hours passed between us in seconds as I sobbed into the phone before I heard shifting from his end. "Stay put, okay..." He said cautiously and slowly. "I'm going to come over, just try and take deep breaths until I get there." "Alex?" I whispered, my voice coming out so fragile and small. "Will you stay on the phone with me until you get here, I don't want to be alone." "Yes." He whispered back. "Anything you need, I'd do for you."