#but then at the same time jatp coming out when it did probably has an impact on why so many of us cherish it the way we do

[mouse-fantoms]

If ya’ll think I’m not crying like a baby about this then let me inform you 😭😅

[legolasghosty]

JATP vampire AU!

Helloooo!!! Sorry on the delay, haven't had a lot of spare writing spoons lately with school! But I love this idea, here we go!!!

Okay first off, I am a sucker (no pun intended) for the Molina family being legacy vampires. The family line on Rose's side is largely vampiric in some form. Of course there is variation as to how strong it is and what abilities and needs/limitations various people have, as genetics still exist and stuff. There's also a fair amount of relationships between humans and vampires, cause screw Twilight rules, being being close to a vampire as a human is not a death wish.

Ray and Rose talked a lot about her turning him when they got engaged, but ended up deciding against it. There's a fair amount of potential complications with turning and there's no guarantee that the one being turned would share the same set of abilities and needs as the one turning them. Rose was safe walking in the sun, but her sister Victoria burns at the drop of a hat. They decided the potential benefits weren't worth the risks.

In this universe, nonhuman beings like vampires, wereanimals, fae, etc. aren't really a secret, but they also aren't super well understood or known by the general public. It's kinda similar to those statistics you'll see in the real world of things like "X% of people in the US have red hair, and X% of people in the US [insert medical condition/gender/view/whatever here], so if you know someone who has red hair, you probably also know someone who [insert same thing]." Those kinds of things exist all over in this AU, but with vampires and stuff. A small percentage of the population, low understanding, but not a secret. Lots of misinformation.

ANYWAYS BACK TO THE FUN STUFF! Julie is an interesting first child for Ray and Rose, cause she is fairly sensitive to the sun (Which they find out by accident...), semi blood dependent, and can and will turn into a bat for little to no reason. The bat thing is particularly confusing, because neither Rose nor any of her family that lives nearby have that particular ability. And Julie is a hider. Insert large amounts of parental panic every time they wake up to find that she's not in her crib. At least she's not coordinated enough to open doors till she's at least 4 or 5, so they figure out how to safely close her in when she's too young to know how to find her way back home if she got outside.

Carlos is by comparison basically a standard human baby... they think at first. All good in the sun, never shows much interest in his sister and mom's blood beverages, and (thankfully) never changes shape. But, as they come to find out when he wakes up screaming and almost crushes Ray's finger, he did pick up some of the strength and speed from Rose's side of the family, along with her bright eyes and mischievous grin. They also come to understand that, despite not needing or wanting blood to drink, he does have the strong sense of smell that vampires used to use for hunting. This makes things like daycare impossible cause it's just too strong.

Then we got the boys. We still have an accident just before they play a major gig at the Orpheum, but instead of poisoned street dogs, Luke, Reggie, and Alex get caught in an attack by a vampire extremist group. They all pull through okay, though it was touch and go for a moment there with Reggie, but they all end up turned.

Luke's folks are freaked by it but glad that he's alive and start trying to adjust to the whole situation. Reggie's parents are very divided as to what to do about him. So much so that they spend more time fighting each other than helping him. He spends a lot of nights at Luke's. Alex's parents disown him as soon as they find out from the hospital.

Alex ends up as the Molina's foster kid after getting released. It's unusual, cause they mostly do temporary placement in a crisis, but there aren't any other foster families in the area that have vampire blood and can help him adjust. It takes him a while to settle in with them, what with how different the family dynamic is on top of the whole vampire thing, but they make it work. He and Julie become fast friends. She helps talk him down after he turns into a bat the first time in the middle of a panic attack and the rest is history.

As far as vamp tendencies, Alex gets the bat form, the pointy teeth, and the strong sense of smell. He also sunburns really easily, but that could also be tied to the fact that he's so frigging white. Alex is pretty sure the vamp thing made it a lot worse though. Luke got the speed and the sun sensitivity(not gonna kill him, but it does hurt if he stays out too long), plus a blood craving that freaks his parents out more than once. He ends up officially meeting Julie for the first time when he breaks open her locker in desperation cause he can smell her blood bottle inside. Julie is MAD. Reggie is kinda in the middle of the blood reliance scale, still loves the sunshine, and nearly breaks the knobs on several doors in his house before he befriends the Molina family and starts sleeping over there more often than not.

As far as the rest of the characters, Bobby stays human and friends with all the guys through everything. Carrie, Nick, and Flynn are both humans, as is Trevor(Trevor and Bobby are different people here). There are a few other nonhumans at LFHS, but none in the music program so no one knows them well.

Willie is new at LFHS the fall after the guys get turned. He says he just moved here with his dad, Caleb (GOOD DAD CALEB FOREVER!). They're in the art program, but Alex, Reggie, and Julie keep randomly running into them at stuff and become friends. Willie is kinda quiet in general, but they all spot little bits of a more bright, fun loving personality from time to time. At first Alex lowkey worries that he's having home issues, but then he runs into them after finishing a gig with the guys, and Willie has their hair up for once. It's messy, but Alex can't help but notice the healed but obvious scars on the side of his neck, just below his left ear. They look pretty similar to Alex's own.

And thus the secret is out, at least to the little vamp family being formed. Willie got removed from his bio family cause of substance abuse on the part of his parents, and bounced through a handful of foster homes. One of them, the one right before Caleb, had an uncle who was a vampire. Turning Willie wasn't exactly intentional, but it happened regardless. This was when Willie was like 11. Willie was stuck in the hospital for a while cause they had a rough transformation, and then were placed with Caleb when they finally got out. He fully expected Caleb to hate him, but turns out Caleb is a werepanther, turned as a little kid, so he kinda gets it. They figure it out together and end up getting along really well! Caleb moved to LA for work stuff, and Willie was eager for a fresh start after some rumors that had gone around at his old school. And he's very happy to find the lil family!

Ack I'm sorryyyyyy this is so long!!! I'm having too many thoughts!!! I'll shut up now!!!! Hope you enjoyed!!!

[kybee1497]

Fic tag game

Tagged by @dark-visitors (thanks Visi!!)

1) How many works do you have on Ao3?

75

2) What's your Ao3 word count?

300,411

3) What fandoms do you write for?

So so many, lol. Jatp, Wednesday, descendants, do revenge, first kill, Batman (eventually, I have plans okay I just haven’t like done it yet). I’ve also written one fic each for bridgerton and wynonna earp.

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Season of Woe (Wenclair - Wednesday)

Don’t talk to me or my scary goth gf ever again (Wenclair - Wednesday)

Bat vs. bug (calliete - first kill)

Fire in my blood (Wenclair - Wednesday)

Hate to say I told you so (Kathony - Bridgerton)

5) Do you respond to comments?

Yes? I really try to, I’m just horrifically bad at actually getting to each comment. I think overall I respond to like 50% of comments in a super nonsensical order.

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ha. Hahahahaha I’ve actually been yelled at many many times for this fic and it was so so worth it

Always by your side

Also

Never saw you coming (I’ll never be the same) Aka Luke leaves

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh fuck idk, I love me some fluff. If we’re going purely based off of soft fluffy vibes it’s laughing at clouds so dark above, the suns in my heart (I’m ready for love) or dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat

8) Do you get hate on fics?

No thank god, I would cry for days

9) Do you write smut? What kind?

… maybe so. I’m a kink girlie what can I say.

10) Do you write cross-overs?

No? No, not yet anyways.

11) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

12) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes! I wrote a Bridgerton fic with my beloved wife Rach @itsthebooks (whomst almost divorced me last week but she did not file the paperwork so it’s all good 😂) for the bridgerton troped round last year. I am a menace and would not shut up about this fic until it was written. It was a lot of fun tho!!

Hate to say I told you so

13) What WIP you would like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh god most of them. The adhd hypefocus gremlin is a bitch and a half when she changes fixations. I really want to finish promise me you’ll catch me but I’ve been stalled out on the third chapter for like 2 years. I also want to finish here we go again but I’m pretty sure I wrote myself into a corner and idk how to fix it without trashing it and rewriting and I don’t have the patience for that.

14) What's your all-time favourite ship?

Again adhd hyperfocus gremlin rules my heart and mind so it depends on the day tbh. In terms of longest reigning ships it’s jukebox and bellarke. Currently I’m obsessed with all things batfam (familial/platonic obvi) and DCU

15) What are your writing strengths?

I’m really good at diving into a characters head and the way they think. One of my fave Fics, writing wise doesn’t have any dialogue or specific action, it’s more character study than anything else. It’s really easy for me to just write and be able to flow through memory’s and thoughts and feelings and how the character experiences the world. I’m sure there’s a word for it I’m just not remembering but it’s my favorite kind of writing

16) What are your writing weaknesses?

Um probably that I get really bogged down in action heavy scenes, I focus too much on where they’re bodies physically are and what movements they’re making and it takes me a billion years to write and I think I put in too much detail but I never know how to trim it down???

17) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

There’s a reason I’ve only failed 4 classes in my life and 2 were math and 2 were a foreign language. It is a struggle for me. I don’t want to have to work that hard to write and also I’m afraid of fucking it up cause google translate is not reliable. I’ll do the occasional word or term of endearment but that’s pretty much it. Usually if the characters are speaking another language I’ll mention it in story and then write the dialogue in English

18) First fandom you wrote for?

Jatp

19) Favourite fic you've ever written?

No, you can’t make me 🥺

Always by your side cause I’m so fucking proud of the pain I unleashed

As if it’s really that easy to get over you (just snap your fingers) the aforementioned fic with very little dialogue or action, just vibes and character study into drea from do revenge

20) What fic would you want to rewrite one day?

I have no idea, I’m vaguely hoping to rewrite here we go again one day but tbh I barely have the focus to fics the first time.

Tagging: @itsthebooks @a-tomb-with-a-view @wr0temyway0ut @thatbitchmabel @fandomscraziness22 @angelofarts and anyone else that wants to do it, I’m so tired and totally blanking rn

[squirrelno2]

I did threaten to do some jatp oc posting sooooo

(I'm thinking about a series of small pieces about Willie meeting various HGC ghosts - let me know if you're into this?)

Willie met Genevieve when he decided to experiment with trampolines. He was disappointed to find that he couldn't jump on them, not without a lot more effort than was worthwhile, but when he emerged from underneath the trampoline he saw a woman sitting at the top of the silks hanging on the other end of the circus's rehearsal space like she did it all the time. He paused, hoping he was about to see a show.

Then she turned her head and saw him, and he realised that she was probably dealing with the same issue he'd found with the trampoline.

"Let me guess," Willie called. "You're falling through."

She scowled, slipping into the silks and falling a few feet before she caught herself.

"Go away," she said.

"Have you been dead long?" Willie couldn't help but ask. It was a familiar kind of stubbornness on her face. Lots of new ghosts looked like that when they tried to cling to life.

"I'm not dead!" she snapped, struggling to climb back up.

"Are you like a superhero, then? There's only so many options."

She appeared on the floor, face bright pink with fury. With an angry swipe of her wrist across her eyes, she turned towards Willie.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Maybe. But who's gonna stop me?" He raised his arms gleefully. He wasn't about to touch the whole "I'm not dead" thing, but maybe he could ease her into understanding that death wasn't the end of the world.

"What if you mess with something here? People can get hurt on this equipment!"

Willie looked up at the silks, then at the ghost in front of him.

"I'm always careful," he said. "No bouncing or climbing when lifers are here. I know that."

"Lifers," she repeated. She looked steadier now, though her eyes were still bright and watery. "What are you, the circus ghost?"

Willie resisted the urge to say that was probably her.

"Just visiting," he said. "But I know a place where the silks won't let you down."

The woman rubbed the back of her neck.

"Really," she said flatly.

"Yeah, this guy Caleb has a fancy nightclub - old style, where they put on shows and do jazz dance. I never used to know anything about shows before him, but it's pretty cool."

She looked him up and down, frowning.

"You're just a kid," she said. Willie stood a little taller. "How long have you been -"

She didn't finish the sentence.

"Dead? Yeah, it's been a couple decades. You're really new to this, huh?"

She reached up, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and retying it.

"I guess telling you I'm not dead was a giveaway," she said when she'd finished.

"Hey, we all have moments like that," Willie said. "But it's easier to get used to it all when you're not alone. Wanna come check it out?"

She turned, looking behind her at the silks she couldn't use. She rubbed her neck again.

"I guess it couldn't hurt."

Willie grinned and spun, flinging his arms wide.

"Just wait," he said. "Caleb knows everything there is to know about the afterlife. You'll be back up there in no time."

She laughed softly.

"What's your name?" she asked. "Are you... Alone?"

"I'm Willie," he said. He knew the look on her face pretty well, and decided to head her off at the pass. "And it's not like it would be a good thing if a ghost like me had any family around, you know? That's the thing about all this, you kinda have to make a new one. And not look at us teenagers like we're kids."

"Right," she said. "Decades."

Willie nodded, glad she understood. He wanted to make sure all the ghosts at the club felt like family, but that didn't mean he was looking for some kind of parent.

"I'm Genevieve," she said. "Thanks for this."

"Hey," Willie said. "We gotta stick together."

Genevieve smiled.

"I guess death is like performing that way," she said. "Just... Tell me the need for unions isn't so pressing."

"Don't worry," Willie laughed. "You'll be fine."

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

i’ve been seeing a post going around abt how jatp is probably cancelled but netflix knows they’ll lose money if they announce it so they just aren’t saying anything,,,,,, but like. here’s the thing.

i was in the andi mack fandom as the show 1) had the most popularity it ever had, and 2) was coming to an end, with both of these things happening at the same time. andi mack was bringing the most views (see: money) to disney channel out of any of the other shows that were airing at the time, and yet right in the middle of their third season, they announced its cancellation. while it was, naturally, upsetting to any watcher of the show, it… made sense. they’d told a lot of the story by that point, most of the loose ends had started getting tied up, and they didn’t have a lot of opportunities in what direction they could take the story next (regardless or not of whether the show was cancelled for homophobic reasons or just because it had already reached disney’s usual three season mark, ending the story where they did fit more than it would have, had they tried to continue for a fourth season).

this is not the case with jatp.

not only did the show end on a cliffhanger that needs resolving, but there are so many more directions the show can explore from where they left off. and from a viewer standpoint, any of the other shows that were cancelled after one season (teenage bounty hunters, i am not okay with this, and the society come to mind) didn’t have nearly as much fan+cast+crew support as jatp does. i never watched the society, so i don’t really have a say for that one, but for tbh and ianowt, they were both very much one-off concepts that would’ve had trouble in a second (or third) season, mostly because the entire shows were based off of concepts (bounty hunting and telekinesis, respectively) rather than plots. ianowt ended on a cliffhanger, technically, but really it was resolved in the final episode with the intro and outro shots being the same. obviously, more could’ve been done with it, but like,,,, how much more, especially with the success of stranger things, where a character there has nearly the exact same powers as the main in ianowt?

jatp is lucky enough that on the off chance it is cancelled, it still has a mostly resolved ending (ignoring the last scene). but there are still so many things left unanswered if you think a bit beyond what the story tells you— why did julie’s hug work? does her mom have anything to do with it? what will caleb do next? is willie alright? are the boys alive or just saved? will ray ever find out? when a show ends, especially if it’s cancelled, there are usually some questions, but it is never nearly that open ended. it’s why i figured a show like no good nick would get renewed for a second season, but not a third; because of how the seasons ended.

also, i’ve never heard of any of netflix’s most popular shows getting their own book adaptation, let alone three of them. ignoring the fact that the synopsis for whatever happens literally said that the events in that book would lead into a second season, netflix knows the show is popular. they know the show would make them more money. they have no reason to cancel it other than their own conservative reasons, and in the case that happens, there is likely enough fan support to get it picked up somewhere else, especially with kenny fucking ortega as a director.

it is INCREDIBLY likely that the only reason they haven’t renewed it yet is because of border restrictions. with such large productions in the show, making sure that every one can cross the border into vancouver for filming can be very difficult given all of the covid protocols that need to take place (rightfully so). they likely also can’t risk filming big production numbers like tosoh even if everyone is fully vaccinated, just because of the number of people. hell, the dining hall i eat at requires proof of vaccination and we’re still only allowed to sit three people to a table. once they get more confirmation that things can be done safely, we’ll be more likely to hear news about a renewal.

if anyone else has any thoughts on this please feel free to share, i’m just trying to remain hopeful and make sense out of all of it

[courageous-she]

Needing You- Charlie Gillespie

Charlie x female reader

Summary: You’re having a rough day and go to your best friend for some comfort

Word Count: 3037

Author’s Note: I haven’t really written in a while but became a SIMP for this boy after watching JATP. Here’s something I thought up while I should have been working at work. Also the formatting may have gotten a little wonky so sorry for that. Um anyway, hope you enjoy!

**

You: Hey, are you home? Charlie: Yeah, why, what’s up? You: Can we hang out? I don’t really want to be alone rn Charlie: Sure thing! I can come over? You: Actually, can I come over? I don’t feel like being in my apartment rn Charlie: Of course, doors unlocked <3

You locked your phone, resting it on your chest and letting out a long sigh. Life had just been hitting too hard lately, so you texted Charlie hoping he’d be able to distract you and take your mind off of things. You simply needed some quality time with your best friend and to not think about everything going on in your life right now. Luckily, Charlie was always down to hang out and was always flexible on what the two of you would do.

You lifted your head just enough from your starfish position on your bed to glance over your outfit. You’d changed into your comfy clothes when you got home a few hours ago. These would be fine, Charlie has seen you in worse clothes, and probably in an overall worse state than this. Shrugging, you stood from your bed and grabbed your keys, making your way over to the bus stop at the end of your street. 

Quietly opening the door to Charlie and Owen’s apartment, you carefully left your shoes at the door. You looked up and noticed Owen and Jeremy sitting on the couch in the small apartment living room. “Hey, Y/N” Owen and Jeremy said at the same time, both giving a quick nod of the head. You waved back, making your way down the hallway to Charlie’s room. It wasn’t odd for you to come over to the boy’s apartment, so Owen and Jeremy didn’t question it. Owen was more used to your frequent visits than Jeremy because Owen actually lived there, but both boys knew how close you and Charlie are so it would be odd if you didn’t show up at some point during the week.

Charlie’s door was open a crack, a low light creeping out into the hallway. You pushed the door open just enough to slide your body through, and closed it when you were all the way inside. 

“Hey” Charlie said softly, sitting up slightly in his bed and closing his laptop. Instead of responding, you pulled the covers back on his bed and slid under. Charlie watched you, slightly confused, but lifted his arm for you when you began to crawl under it resting your head on his chest. His arm around you hugged you closer, while his other hand came around to rest on top of yours that was resting on his stomach. 

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” he asked, voice soft. You shook your head ‘no’ on his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” Again, you shook your head. Charlie’s chest rose up before he let out a long sigh. It wasn’t often you got like this, but when you did it always broke Charlie a little inside. “What can I do to help?” “Is it okay if we just lay here for a while?” you finally said.

“Yeah, ‘course it is. Want me to put on a movie for background noise or somethin’?” Charlie asked, leaning over slightly to grab his tv remote. You simply nodded a ‘yes’ against his chest, knowing he would just choose a movie for the two of you. 

Charlie ended up choosing “Onward”, a Disney movie was bound to put a smile on your face, he thought. The two of you silently watched the movie, staying in relatively the same position. As the movie was coming to a close, tears began to make their way down your face, landing on Charlie’s shirt. He looked down when he began to feel the wet spot on his chest. Moving so he could see your face better, Charlie smirked at your current state.

“Are you crying?” Charlie asked, the goofy smirk not leaving his face. You lifted your head from his chest, glancing between his smirking expression and the puddle on his chest. 

“What? He never got to meet his dad! After all that!!” you said, pouting out your bottom lip so you didn’t start sobbing. Charlie chuckled before sitting back and pulling you back into him.

“Haven’t you seen this before? You knew this was coming” he replied while turning his attention back to the screen.

“Just because I’ve seen it already doesn’t make it any less sad, Char.” But he could tell by the tone in your voice that you weren’t talking about the movie anymore. He grabbed the remote, stopping the end credits. You started to sit up, wiping the remnants of tears from your face.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” he asked, voice soft and understanding. You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on your knees facing your friend sitting next to you.

“Everything is just so overwhelming right now. It’s like nothing can go my way and just keeps piling on top of me. I feel like I’m drowning and I’m so over it.” There was a comfortable silence between the two of you for a moment “I hate feeling like this” you whispered. Charlie put his hand on your back, rubbing small circles.

“Hey, hey, look at me” he said. Your eyes remained fixed on a random spot of his bed. “Y/N, please” he whispered. You shifted your gaze so that your eyes met his. “I know that things might be really tough right now, but I know you, and I know how hard you work, and I know that you will get through this. You have the weekend to forget about things and relax for a bit too, I’m here to get your mind off of the stress.”

You smiled at his reassuring words; he always knew what to say. You moved so that you could rest your head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Char, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know, probably die or something” he said casually. You punched his shoulder jokingly and laughing at the boy next to you. “You hungry? We can order some food” 

“I didn’t bring my wallet with me” you said, remembering that you’d only grabbed your keys on your way out. 

“Don’t worry about that, it was on me anyway.” Charlie said, scrolling through UberEats on his phone for something to order. “What are you feeling?”

“Char, I’m not letting you pay! At least let me Venmo you?” you asked, already beginning to feel guilty at the fact that he offered to pay.

“Y/N” he said, putting his phone down and turning to face you, “You’re not paying,” he placed both hands on your cheeks, squishing them slightly, “Do not. Worry. About it.”

“But Charlie,” you replied, turning your body to face him straight on, “I. Feel. Bad” you mimicked his position, placing both hands on his cheeks and squishing them. And there the two of you were, hands on each other’s cheeks, squishing them. That was until you heard Charlie’s bedroom door slowly creak open.

“Hey guys, Jer and I were just wondering if you wanted to order food?” Owen asked, walking in while looking down at his phone. When he looked up and noticed the way you two were positioned, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Uh, I’m sorry, did I walk in on something?” he asked concerned, but slightly amused. 

“Perfect timing Owen!” Charlie said, taking his hands off your cheeks and grabbing his phone again, “Y/N and I were just having the same conversation”

“I was thinking maybe Chinese?” Owen asked, resuming his scrolling on his phone. You and Charlie looked at each other, an unsure look on your face.

“Eh, not really feelin’ it” Charlie replied, going back to his phone for food inspiration.

“I was kind of craving pasta from that Italian place down the street” you said.

“Pomodoro?” Charlie asked, and immediately he looked at Owen and they gave each other the same look. “Yes!” They both said at the same time.

“I’ll go ask Jer what he wants, text me your orders.” Owen replied, leaving the room. But before Owen asked Jeremy what he wanted to eat, he explained in detail what he saw when he walked in on you and Charlie. The two boys grinned at each other, knowing how the two of you felt about the other, and knowing that neither of you would say anything to the other.

**

When the food arrived, the four of you sat in the small living room eating, joking, and watching a variety of YouTube videos. You loved hanging out with the guys, it was always entertaining and you definitely got a workout from how much you laughed. 

After everyone had finished eating, the four of you decided to put on a movie. You sat next to Charlie on the smaller couch, leaning into his side, while Owen laid out on the bigger couch and Jeremy had a spot on the floor with some pillows. 

You’re not sure how long into the movie you made it, but eventually you fell asleep on Charlie’s shoulder. He hadn’t noticed you fell asleep until Owen brought it up.

“Hey man, she out?” he asked, leaning up on the couch. Jeremy looked over too, noticing your sleeping figure resting against Charlie. Charlie glanced down at you, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Yeah, she must’a fell asleep” he said, eyes resting on you a little longer before turning to look at Owen. Owen smirked and looked at Jeremy, who matched his smirk before the two boys looked back at Charlie. “What’s the look for?” he asked confused.

“Oh, come on, Charlie!” Jeremy said, “You are head over heels for her!” he whisper shouted.

“And you have been since day one” Owen added. 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Charlie whisper shouted back. The boys couldn’t see but underneath the blanket, Charlie was pulling you closer to him. He felt like he had to protect you despite there really being nothing to protect you from.

“Don’t avoid it Charlie, it’s so obvious” Owen retorted.

“The only question is, when are you finally going to tell her?” Jeremy asked.

As Charlie was forming his response, his felt you shift next to him. All three boys shifted their gaze to you, hoping you hadn’t heard what they were talking about. You shifted so that your face was resting in the crook of Charlie’s neck. He shivered at the feeling of your breath on his skin.

“Char?” you asked, too sleepy to open your eyes. Charlie squeezed your side to let you know he was there.

“What’s up? You alright?” he asked.

“ ‘m fine. What time is it?”

“Uh, it’s about 12:30” 

“Shit!” you said, quickly sitting up from your comfortable position and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, “The last bus leaves in 30 minutes, I gotta go!” You started to stand up from the couch, but Charlie grabbed your hips, sitting you back down on the couch.

“Chill, Y/N! I’m not letting you get on a bus in the middle of the night! You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the couch tonight” Charlie said, trying to calm you down. Jeremy coughed from the other side of the room, giving Charlie a look. Jeremy was crashing on the couch considering that he didn’t actually live there and had planned to spend the night. Charlie shot back a ‘not now’ look, returning his focus on you.

“I can’t take your bed. I’ll take the couch” you said, not wanting to put your friend out any more than you had tonight.

“Well, actually, I-I’m supposed to be sleeping on the couch” Jeremy finally spoke up. Charlie shot him a look, causing Jeremy to shrug and shy back out of the conversation.

“Then I’ll take the floor, but I’m not taking your bed” You said, bundling the blanket that was piled next to you. 

“Y/N, you are not sleeping on the damn floor. Either you sleep in my bed or we’re both sleeping on the floor. End of story” Charlie said, a little more stern this time.

“Well with that logic, why don’t we both just sleep in the bed?” you asked, shrugging. Charlie’s eyes went wide. Owen and Jeremy’s heads quickly turned their attention to you, smirks threatening to appear on their faces. 

“I-I mean, if-if you’re cool with that, yeah we could do that” Charlie stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected you to offer to share a bed with him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pass this opportunity up.

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t cool with it, but now that we’ve settled that, I’m tired. Goodnight boys!” you said, standing up and waving.

“ ‘night!” Owen and Jeremy replied, waving as you made your way back to Charlie’s room. What you didn’t see was the two boys silently cheering Charlie on as he slowly stood and made his way to his room. 

You were already tucked away when he made it, closing the door softly behind him. He made his way through the dark and found his way to bed. He slipped in next to you, laying awkwardly on his back, not exactly knowing how to sleep next to you. He turned his head to look at you. Your back was facing him, breathing slow. He figured that you’d already fallen asleep given how tired you were, so he got comfortable and eventually fell asleep.

**

Charlie woke with a start when he heard you start to cry out in your sleep. He couldn’t make out what you were saying but he knew that you were having a nightmare. He immediately pulled your back close to his chest, arms wrapping around you. His cheek was pressed against yours as he whispered in your ear. “Hey, hey, you’re alright, I’m here, you’re okay” You woke up, heart racing, and hands grasping Charlie’s arms that wrapped around your middle. He loosened them enough for you to turn around and face him. 

“What would I do without you?” you asked, cuddling closer into his chest, eyes closing in comfort. Charlie took a deep breath, he felt like now was the time to tell you. Tell you how he really felt, how much he wanted to never be without you.

“Y/N?” he whispered?

“Yeah, Char?”

“Can I tell you something?” He was trying to keep his nerves down, knowing you’d be able to feel him shaking.

“Of course, you can tell me anything.” You replied, shifting to lean slightly over him. He mimicked your position, the two of you leaning to face the other. “I like you. Um, like more than a friend kind of like you. And I don’t want this to ruin what we have so if you don’t feel the same way that’s- that’s cool we can forget I said this.” Charlie rambled. You were taken aback by the sudden out poor of emotional truth. Charlie was beginning to accept that you didn’t feel the same way until you made a move. You leaned in and kissed Charlie, all of the bottled-up feelings coming to the surface. 

“I like you too, Char,” you whispered, hand cupping the side of his face, “God, I’ve liked you since the day we met” you laughed, remembering your first encounter on set with Charlie. Charlie sighed from relief from next to you.

“I was so scared you didn’t feel the same…”

“How could I not, Charlie? I literally couldn’t survive without you.” You spoke. A smile crept its way onto Charlie’s face before he leaned in for another kiss, deeper and more passionate than the first. The two of you spent much of the rest of the night like that, moving between sleep and giggly sleepy kisses. The next morning, the two of you slept in a little later than normal, and laid in bed cuddled up watching TikToks, sneaking kisses in between. It was a kind of bliss you didn’t think you’d ever experience. Both of your heads turned when a short knock was made against the door.

“Are you guys dead in there?” Owen asked through the door. The two of you chuckled from the bed.

“We’re fine Owen!” Charlie shouted.

“Are you sure? It’s like noon-thirty and I haven’t heard anything from either of you?” Owen shouted back. You laughed at the boys, moving to get out of the bed and answer the door. Charlie pouted at the lack of you next to him. You opened the door to see a concerned looking Owen. 

“Good morning, Owen” you smiled.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, noticing Charlie’s lack of shirt and a messy bed.

“No, you didn’t. We were just getting up to grab some breakfast” you replied.

“Oh, well I was going to ask if you guys wanted some waffles? Jeremy and I just made some” he said, still looking between you and Charlie, attempting to put the pieces together on what happened when the two of you went to bed last night.

“I’d love some waffles! Let me just grab my sweatshirt and I’ll be right there!” 

Owen nodded, leaving the room. You turned to look for your sweatshirt somewhere on the floor. Feeling two arms wrap around your waist, you giggled, placing your arms over Charlie’s.

“You know you don’t have to go out there.” He said, lips hovering just over your ear.

“No, I don’t have to.” You said, “But we need to eat.”

“There’s something right here I could eat.” Charlie replied. You spun around quickly in his arms, slapping him lightly on the upper arm.

“Charlie!” You couldn’t believe how quickly he responded with that!

“What!? It’s true!” he winked at you.

“Well too bad because that is currently not on the menu. I want waffles!” you said before breaking free of his grasp, grabbing your sweatshirt and skipping out of the room to the kitchen. Charlie was left standing in his room, mouth agape, but laughing at how you handled that. What would he do without you?

[adorethedistance]

All Day Affair - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (18+)

JATP Masterlist - Valentine’s Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ Smut, swearing, light embarrassment (minors DNI)

Words: 2757

Summary: A rough night before leads to a slow morning after, causing you and Charlie to be late to Valentine’s brunch plans. All is forgiven and all is forgotten when he makes it up to you in the best way he can.

A/n: This weekend has not at all gone the way I’d thought/hoped it would and so I apologize for the slow churning of fics lately but I promise I am working on some much requested fics. On a lighter note, here is my contribution to the Valentine’s Day

My eyes groggily flutter open when I hear my phone rapidly buzzing on the bedside table. Charlie’s arm is draped over my exposed midriff, no doubt a position of his own doing. As I go to move his arm off my bare skin, he holds onto me tighter groaning an incoherent string of words. I attempt to grab the maniacally buzzing device with my eyes still closed. I’m incapacitated via Charlie’s hold on my waist, and thus, all I feel under my flattened hand against the cool surface are the discarded condom wrappers from last night.

“Charlie,” I scold, still not fully awake. He knowingly loosens his grip, allowing me to sit up and it isn’t until I’m upright and Charlie’s arm drops into my lap that I realize I’m completely naked under his t-shirt. My phone has not stopped vibrating like crazy much to my dismay. Haphazardly grabbing it off the nightstand, I wait for my eyes to adjust before I read the time.

11:26.

“SHIT. Charlie! Charlie, we’re late!” I try and shake him awake. He whines miserably,

“Mmmmm, what?”

“It’s 11:26, we’re late!”

The messages are from Owen and Savannah, both of whom we were supposed to be meeting for brunch at 11. While Charlie and I wanted Valentine’s Day plans alone, we also wanted to spend time with our friends whom we love dearly. Since the original plan was for the two of us to have the evening all to ourselves, we agreed on having brunch to start the day off well. Look how that turned out for us. I scramble out of bed, and I nearly hit the floor as my legs give out from under me. Luckily, Charlie was right behind me and was able to catch me in time.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just sore.”

“Yessss.” I fake slap his chest before we resume in the chaos, frantically throwing on decent outfits. I toss Charlie one of his band shirts turned muscle tees after hopping into a pair of jeans. Once dressed, I run to the bathroom and pass a brush through my hair in a frenzy before I begin brushing my teeth at lightning speed. Charlie appears beside me to brush his own teeth, and I’m practically sprinting out of the bathroom as he does.

“Don’t forget to fix your hair!” My legs nearly give out once more as I struggle to slip on my favorite pair of sneakers. Once I’m upright again, and stable, I grab both of our wallets and the keys to the house and car and shove them into my bag. Together we bolt out the door and clamber into Charlie’s orange Subaru.

In a nice contrast to all the rushing around we’ve done this morning, Charlie drives at a regular speed; thankfully, we make it to the restaurant in one piece. As soon as he puts the car in park the two of us run to the entrance to see our friends waiting at an outdoor table on the patio. Charlie and I finally made it, albeit a tad out of breath.

“Charlie, Y/n, nice of you to finally join us.”

“11:44 on the dot. Not your latest arrival, but an honorable mention,” Savannah jeers, waving me over to sit beside her.

“What happened this time?”

“Overslept. My usual alarm didn’t go off, I must’ve forgotten to turn it on last night.”

“Classic.” I’m distracted from Owen’s teasing when Savannah’s humorous smile drops. She’s looking at me with an emotion I can’t distinguish.

“You okay?” She simply nods and then pushes her chair back.

“I need to pee and you do too. Come on, Y/n.” And without allowing me to reply, she has me up out of the chair and briskly walking toward the bathroom. It isn’t until we’re outside the single stall that I noticed she grabbed my bag from the back of my chair. Once she’s locked us both in the room, she looks at me with wide eyes and a suppressed smile.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s this?” She answers my question with a question, before using her left index finger to poke the right side of my neck.

“Ow!” My face drops once I realize. Brushing past her, I move to stand in front of the bathroom mirror, inspecting the assemblage of love bites all over my neck area. Savannah merely giggles at the realization before opening my bag.

“You don’t have a sponge, so we’re gonna have to use our fingers.” I turn around to look at her, not through the mirror and find a bottle of full-coverage concealer in her hands.

“How did that get in there?”

“I put it in there last week after you had to spend the whole day adjusting your shirt around your collar bones to hide more of these.” She gives a vague gesture to the marks on my neck and begins applying the makeup.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“And you are unbelievable. That was literally last week, and you’re already marked up again. Don’t you and Charlie ever just make love? Does it always have to be ‘ravage one another’s body’?”

“I mean, occasionally. I don’t know, sweet and tender isn’t really our thing.”

“Clearly.” Savannah steps back to survey her work, “Okay, you’re covered but be careful because I didn’t pack setting spray.”

“I am forever indebted to you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. It’s Owen that you should pray doesn’t notice.”

“God, you’re right.”

“If I were solely judging by his hair, I’d have guessed you guys went at it this morning and not last night.”

“Shit, he’s probably marked up, too.”

“Well, I didn’t bring him concealer, and you two are not the same shade soooo… sorry.” I shake my head dismissively as I hold the bathroom door open for her behind me.

“Better him than me.”

“How was it though? You told me you’d text me updates.”

“Yeah, and then I didn’t set an alarm. But no, it was… so good. I’m like, sore.”

“Okay, we’re entering TMI territory so let’s find something to talk about before we’re back within earshot.”

“What are your Valentine’s plans for the rest of the day?”

“I might get frozen yogurt and watch a movie, haven’t really decided. I would ask what you and Charlie are doing, but based on this morning, I think I can guess.”

Just as Savannah and I did, the two boys fall silent once we approach the table; when the four of us are settled, I take a quick glance over the menu, as if I’m unsure of what I want.

“Okay, in the spirit of St. Valentine, let’s talk love. Tell us about your first kiss, Y/n.” Savannah eyes me, already knowing the horrendous story. I deadpan,

“No.”

“Wait, I’m actually curious. I don’t think I know this story.” Charlie leans forward in his seat, placing his forearms on the table in front of him.

“See what you’ve done?” Savannah merely shrugs and takes a smug sip from her water glass. “No, I’m not doing this. Why don’t you tell us about your first kiss, Sav?”

“I asked you first.”

“Fine, be that way. Charlie, tell us about your first kiss.”

“Well, I don’t know I-”

“Come on, what’s ‘love-master’ Charlie’s origin story?” Owen teasingly pats Charlie on the back, and the four of us all fall under a shocked silence at the sound of Charlie hissing in pain. My lips part in surprise but quickly press shut in a moment’s realization.

“You okay?” Don’t do it, Owen.

“Yeah, I’m fine just-”

“Oh my god.” Upon patting Charlie’s back, the fabric of his shirt moved out of the way to reveal a conglomerate of scratches across the surface of his sun-kissed skin. Owen laughs out in disbelief before poking one of the scratches again, causing Charlie to smack his hand away.

“Holy shit, did you get mauled by a bear?” Owen then gasps in a realization that I’d pray he wouldn’t have, and he begins to laugh even harder. “That good, huh Y/n?” My face heats up a million degrees and I cover my face with one hand as a desperate defense mechanism.

“It’s not a big deal, Owen.” Thank god, Savannah’s come to the rescue. “They just got a head start on Valentine’s Day is all.”

“Okay, can we please change the subject?” I plead as I’ve already had enough of their laughter. Charlie gives me a look that is both apologetic and embarrassed and I let out an exaggerated sigh as a response.

The rest of our brunch date is still a good time minus the occasional interjectory joke about my and Charlie’s romantic all-day-affair yesterday. Our foursome disassembles, already planning the next group outing post-Valentine’s intimacy.

“That was absolutely humiliating,” I state, buckling my seatbelt in the passenger's side as Charlie begins pulling out of the parking spot.

“You want me to be gentler next time?” Charlie asks sincerely and extends his right hand over the center console to rub a comforting circle on top of my thigh over the fabric of my jeans. The gesture pulls the warmth in my heart and the butterflies in my stomach a little lower.

“...No,” I admit shyly. The confession elicits a small, cocky chuckle from Charlie. He then gives me an affirming squeeze before tracing the seam along my inner thigh in a way that is too sensual to mistake his intentions.

The entire car ride home, the feeling of Charlie’s fingertips ghosting up my leg makes my heart beat a little faster and ignites a subtle heat where I wish he’d trail his hand up to. I’m sure my desire is apparent to Charlie but he doesn’t say anything about it. When we get back to our home, I stick the key in the lock and open the front door but freeze as I feel Charlie pressing into my entire backside. He leans down to playfully bite part of my earlobe as his hands come to rest on my hips.

“You said you didn’t want me to be gentle?” All of my senses are clouded by dense arousal so all I can do is nod. He airily laughs, a warm breath dusting the surface of my skin and I shudder involuntarily. “Go inside.”

After closing the door behind us, Charlie shoves me up against it, his hand behind my head to prevent me from actually getting hurt. He kisses my lips forcefully but doesn’t linger, and instead trails down the column of my throat. The kisses are rough in between small bites of affection, surely leaving more marks that I’ll have to wake up early to cover tomorrow. Or just not go anywhere. After this, it’s looking like the latter.

“You want me to rough you up a little bit? Huh?”

“Yes.” The love bites Charlie’s leaving behind become harsher on my skin, as he trails further down my neck, across my collarbones. “Charlie, can we…?”

“Can we what? Tell me what you want.”

“Please-“

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Please, fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command.” And with that Charlie pulls me into the bedroom, stealing kisses in between steps. Charlie moves to sit me on the bed but as he grabs me by the hips, I maneuver to switch places and push him down onto the bed. He looks at me with a mix of surprise and excitement, taking the hand that pushed him between his own. I smile delicately when Charlie presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. That is the last trace of softness.

The two of us begin stripping out of our brunch clothes as fast as we can. It’s as if we’re running out of time. We’re both almost fully naked but before I can get my panties off Charlie’s lips are back on mine. His movements are swift, kiss after kiss is filled with an unrivaled lust that is glorious.

Crawling onto the bed, Charlie stays close behind, never allowing any loss of contact between us. I recover to a sitting position and Charlie wraps his arm under my stomach and presses a line of kisses across my shoulder blades.

“Can I take you like this?” He asks earnestly, running his hands over the vast expanse of my bare skin. I choke out a desperate plea and my breathing softens once I feel the absence of Charlie’s touch on my body. When I turn around I see him searching the room like a madman.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t find any more condoms. I think we used them all last night.”

“What? We only used three.”

“I don’t know! Maybe I dropped some?”

“Fuck it. Charlie if I’m not getting absolutely rawed in the next ten seconds I will walk out that door.” He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that and is back on the bed. Charlie grabs both sides of my face to bring me in for a long passionate kiss before taking his place behind me. His warm hands fall from my face to my waist, gripping the skin slightly.

Charlie sits back on his heels and moves my body back to hover over his. He runs a sensual path with his fingers down the sides of my body and slips one down through the growing wetness between my legs. Tracing the arousal over my quivering clit. The anticipation of the moment has heightened my sensitivity and as a result, I let out a whine. My whimpering continues when I feel him run the tip of his erection through the wetness. As I open my mouth to nag him for moving so slow, Charlie slams his entire length inside of me at once, causing me to cry out in pleasure. I can tell it feels incredible for him too by the way he’s gripping my hips. If he didn’t leave bruises yesterday, he definitely will today.

It doesn’t take long for him to figure out a tempo that’s comfortable for the both of us and my labored panting fills the room. Charlie lets out a groan followed by a laugh because we could both feel the physical reaction I had to the noise he had let out. Wrapping his right arm across my stomach, Charlie reaches the left up to grab my tits, and roughly bite another hickey on my shoulder. He uses his right arm to pull my body into his own torso, and shifting his hips he makes a few adjustments. Charlie shifts one more time and when he thrusts back into me I cry out so loud surely our neighbors will put in a noise complaint.

“There we go,” he grunts to himself, but our proximity allows me to hear. Repeatedly thrusting into that spot, my eyes flutter closed in pleasure. Charlie resumes leaving harsh, lingering kisses, and love bites down the side of my neck, moaning into them in ecstasy. As I feel my heat begin to pulse, Charlie knows I’m close and tries to grab my attention.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” I will my eyes open and turn to look. The pleasure of his movements is so overwhelming that in between moans and shallow breaths, I find myself leaning my head back to rest on his bare shoulder. “I want you to look at me as you come undone.”

“Okay.” I swallow hard from how dry my mouth is from panting so hard for so long. Each next thrust is measured and the sound of our labored breathing and pleasured moans fill the electrified air.

“Charlie.”

“I’m close. Where do you want-”

“Just stay inside.”

“You sure?” Before I can give a coherent response my orgasm tears through me like a wildfire. I’m doing my best not to scream and what comes out is a mix between a strangled cry and a deep, guttural groan. Adding to my ecstasy, Charlie reaches down to trace tiny circles over my clit and I feel tears of overstimulation prick the length of my lower lash line. While Charlie fucks me through my high, I feel his movements stutter and the familiar twitch before he relaxes his hold on my body. The two of us collapse back onto the bed in a symphony of gasps and bliss-fueled laughter.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he says behind a smile.

“I love you. That was the first time I’ve forgone condoms…” I state to the ceiling in a moment’s realization, “How do I get this out of me?”

***

A/n: I really am so sorry about the slow churn of writing. I’ve gotten busy with classes and though I knew this was coming I’m still upset that I can’t spend more time writing. On top of that being in a block has been really rough but it’ll pass with time I hope :)

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayennefertyrell​ @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​

[cobrakaisb]

Could you do headcannons of hawk and miguel being besties me with them but the reader bit the reader is in a band and the reader is the lead singer/guitarist?

yes bestie of course!! sorry this took so long but here it is. i hope this lives up to your expectations!! (also if you undertsand the jatp references <3)

Hawk and Miguel Being besties with the lead singer in a band

alright so y’all have been friends for so long, but they have no clue that you are in a band

it comes to a shock for them when they find out 

miguel is literally so impressed, like mans admired you already but now that admiration 📈📈📈

hawk thinks that it's the most badass shit ever, i mean you were already badass but now 📈📈📈

also i feel like they found out by accident??

like you and your band are performing at an open mic night and the cobras just happen to be there

you definitely didn’t tell tory

tory definitely didn’t suggest that everyone goes 

anywayyys

your band is the last act of the night 

miguel and hawk are shook to see you get up there

“since when is y/n in a band?” “idk bro but it's hot af” 

you can guess which boy said what

you look so nervous, but at the same time so confident

your band ends up singing like three songs 

during one of them you and luke, your bandmate, have a small moment

“are they dating?” - miguel “i don’t know, but we better talk to him.” - hawk

after the performance you and your band are just chilling when miguel and hawk approach you

“what are you doing here?” - you “we could ask you the same question,” - hawk

cue the aggressive glares between miguel and hawk and your band 

you introduce them to each other

miguel and hawk are wary of the band

the band is wary of miguel and hawk

they are all very protective of you

hawk and the band go at it about who’s known you for the longest

you and miguel watch them fight, like disappointed parents

(it’s the band btw but hawk and miguel don’t need to know that)

you decide to leave with miguel and hawk

luke kisses your cheek before you go, telling you how good you did

hawk literally pulls you away from him and pushes you out the door

“so you and luke?” miguel asks casually

“what ew no! pretty sure he’s dating reggie” you respond

“he better be dating reggie!” hawk yells

once they know you’re in a band everything starts to make sense 

your journal that you never let them touch = songbook 

the guitar in your room that you're always strumming on

you're always tapping your foot or your fingers on a desk/table at school

they feel dumb because literally all the signs were there 

especially when you wear your band t-shirt

but you don’t hold it against them

because they have to focus on karate and are just oblivious to everything that’s not karate

the boys are sooooo supportive

after that night the boys need to be at every single one of your performances

“you guys don’t need to come to all my performances, you know that right???”

“yeah but you come to all our karate things so”

they def buy all the merch that your band sells (if they sell any)

“guys i can just give it to you” “no we need to support you”

if you think that miguel isn’t constantly resposting your band’s post on his insta story, you're dead wrong

hawk won’t post about you, but he’s always listening to your music

like if you haven't given that boy a recording of your songs, please do

if you think the entire cobra kai dojo doesn’t know about you and your band, you are so wrong

“so y/n’s band is performing-” “at the coffeehouse on saturday yes miguel you’ve told us fifty times already.”

“sensei can you need to listen to this song” -miguel “miguel i’ve listened to all of their songs already”-johnny 

sometimes you run song lyrics by them

“whatever you want y/n, i’m sure it’ll be good”

“i didn’t ask if it’ll be good hawk, i asked if it fits in this specific spot”

“oh well then you asked the wrong guy”

band practice with hawk and miguel there >>>

hawk had to go to see if luke was really dating reggie

(luke is)

when hawk and miguel are at band practice nothing gets done

“guys can we please-” “no y/n he’s telling me about the mohawk!!”

“miguel can you-” “and then i took him out with a punch to the shoulder”

it’s safe to say that after a couple of hangouts, everyone likes each other

the band gets so invested in the cobra kai vs miyagi-do feud

“why would demetri do that??” “i thought y’all were friends??” “yeah me too bro”

“cobra kai never dies!!” “oh my gosh! hawk, miguel, i’m going to kill you!!”

miguel and hawk get invested in the band rivalries

“stop clapping for them! they took our spot at the school dance!” “oh shit my bad”

y’all know demetri’s moment of standing up for hawk in season three?? during the last episode??

well that is literally miguel and hawk everytime someone says something nasty about the band

except hawk will probably fight them, like physically, until they shut up

“who made a groupchat titled ‘the band + hawk and miguel’?” “i did! they need to be in the loop!”

you can’t convince me that you all don’t have sleepovers and stay up until 3:00 am watching movies 

whenever cobra kai has a party you and your band go 

and perform

in conclusion hawk and miguel are super supportive and love you and your band

[caspianjames]

Ok I did a JATP rewatch and now I’m having Carrie thoughts because she’s such an interesting character to me and she has this subtle little arc too in season one that I really appreciated this time around??

I know she has the whole bitch vibe going for her and we don’t know what happened between her, Julie, and Flynn obviously but a lot of their interactions are really strongly (but subtly) laced with jealousy from Carrie.

The first time we see their rivalry as more jealousy-tinged is literally in episode 2 after bright, when Carrie gets mad at Nick for congratulating Julie. She says something like “I earned my chair” and was upset specifically about Julie doing something that she saw as gimmicky to get back into the music program, but mostly because she outshone Carrie. Instead of everyone talking about Carrie, they were talking about Julie.

And then in Finally Free the band manager treats her like a little kid and makes a beeline for Julie when Carrie actually was super confident, had a great routine, and was being very professional about approaching her. After that, Carrie invites herself to the Edge of Great performance and it’s the first time she doesn’t make any cutting remarks towards Julie, she just sort of watches wistfully. She’s a bitch at the beginning of Stand Tall but by the end she’s watching the band in some combination of awe and jealousy.

And really, I think for Carrie it’s less about Julie and more about her dad. We know how Julie and her mom approached music - as something they did collaboratively together, something for joy because it was important to them. Carrie’s understanding of music revolves much more around her dad’s fame, and probably in a lot of ways his absence (as a big time rock star he’s definitely not home much). While Julie always had her moms attention, Carrie probably had to fight for her dads. And then in the music world she’s likely always overshadowed by Trevor, feeling like she has to constantly prove herself and be perfect every time to come out from under her shadow and stopped being viewed as the cute kid who uses daddy’s money because she wants to be famous. It’s probably also why she’s so bubblegum pop compared to Julie’s pop-rock sound even though we know they both grew up around rock music. For Julie it’s something enjoyable. For Carrie it’s something she’d never be good enough at. So she has this whole bitchy persona that is absolutely hiding her insecurities, you know? And she clearly lets that persona down around someone like Nick - and then he breaks up with her so he can ask out Julie.

And I just feel like by the end of Stand Tall (which she went to with her dad even though she has NO context of the boys being ghosts and would just think that HER dad really wants to go see JULIE play) she’s more defeated than anything. Being a bitch doesn’t work. Trying her best doesn’t work. She’s constantly overshadowed by Julie despite even trying to break away from singing the same music and performing the same way.

Anyways I want my big S2 Carrie redemption arc I NEED it

[legolasghosty]

I’m still thinking about jatp zombie apocalypse au, so i’d love to hear thoughts on that if you’re feeling like it

Hello Anon!!! Yes, I am still thinking about it! Just had a rough school week and didn't have the spoons to respond! But here we are now!

To recap what I already said in the tags on this post, you have the guys as ghosts, as per canon, when the zombie apocalypse hits. One way or another, they happen across the zombie bodies of the guys. And clearly their souls are still totally fine, they're still ghosting around like they did before. This would indicate that zombies no longer contain the souls of the people they once were. Sooo... you don't have to feel weird about killing them. They're literally just killer meat sacks.

Headcanon time!

Okay starting off with a lovely idea that @innytoes had, ghosts would be super helpful in the apocalypse cause they can get in and out of places without getting attacked. Alex becomes the designated Grab and Go ghost, mostly because he's less likely to get sidetracked by random stuff that would take up more space than they have and serves no purpose. (But Julieeee, the stuffies looked so lonely!!!)

Julie ends up having to tell her whole family that the guys are ghosts, cause she's a terrible liar and fails at explaining how she knew that the last 5 pharmacies were infested before they even got close.

Carlos already knew of course. Ray is like, "....actually that makes a lot of sense. Okay." He has many followup questions once they reach a safehouse, but he kinda takes it in stride fairly well. Tia... probably would be freaking out, except she's already freaking out about the whole zombie situation. So she's just like, "Nope, not dealing with this right now." Full scale denial. She comes around eventually, but slowly. (More credit to Inny about Tia!)

Julie is definitely a screamer, but she's honestly pretty good at killing zombies. She's got good reflexes, and will fully swing a baseball bat at anything that moves when they're in an unknown area. She does end up swiping right through the guys several times though...

Reggie saves a stray dog when they're escaping a grocery store, and then freaks out when Ray tries to chase off the mutt that's 'following them'. Reggie gets Julie to convince her dad to let the dog stay with them. Ray is like, "Julie you don't even like dogs that much?" And Julie is like, "Well... sorry, but the literally puppy dog eyes plus Reggie's are too much. And Mando is growing on me." (Because yes, Reggie did name the dog after the Mandalorian). Mando becomes part of the gang. Tia claims to hate him cause he probably has fleas and stuff. She has also been caught by the ghosts(and the humans) slipping him food scrapes. So they all know she is lying.

Luke is lousy at fighting zombies, but his musician ear is pretty good at picking up both zombie mutterings and the distress of surviving humans. He's a great scout as long as he doesn't get distracted! Thank goodness for ghost magic and soul connections, cause Julie has to go way off the plan more than once to find him. Alex and Reggie are her backup usually. He's usually swept up in some abandoned music store or jotting down lyrics somewhere.

Okay Inny asked about the same AU, so this will be continued in another post shortly!

(Send me an AU and I'll give you 5+ headcanons about it!)

[julie-and-the-himbo-ghosts]

When I watched jatp for the first time (and a few others after that lol) I didn’t notice that Julie didn’t sing as much with Luke during Edge of Great until someone made a post about it and now I’m watching it while listening to the soundtrack on yt even tho I should totally be working and like woah this actually has a lot of depth while they’re really just singing???

Let me explain.

So Flynn tells Julie to tone down all the heart eyes while they’re playing before Edge of Great right and we can see she is obviously trying to do that (probably bc of the whole “I just had a whole daydream of dancing with my ghost crush to a love song I just came up with while supposed to be dancing with my dance partner” thing, but that’s a whole nother post) bc she’s rocking out with the crowd more than usual and Luke less than usually, etc. But like. The amount of emotion and interaction they do while just performing and all about this one thing Flynn said is amazing

So after after she rocks out with Reggie a little bit (and even has a little moment with Alex), you can see Luke kinda move towards her like he wants to do their mic sharing thingy right after the line “this moment is ours to own” but she turns away from him and vibes with the crowd more and you can literally see him stop moving forward, go back to his mic all sad bc why did Julie rock out with Reggie and then Alex but then ignore him?? And he sends Alex a little ? look before going back to normal singing, but he still looks a little sad and he shoots julie a bit of a confused sad look too before getting back into the song

(Sorry for the bad quality this is all on my phone and yt oof)

And then when he gets his solo bit and Julie goes to vibe with Reggie again he gives her The Look that I’m sure has been giffed many times

And they lock eyes and it’s kinda hard to see and a bit obscured by her hair, but you can see Julie giving him a similar look

And THEN while they’re staring at each other dead in the eyes, Luke does a little headshake thing which is him saying “hey hey come sing with me pls? 🥺” in like the most obvious way he knows and Julie’s face goes from sad pining to like kinda strained, trying-not-to-express-my m-true-emotions smile and she turns back to the crowd fairly quickly and she has this rather forced looking smile (it goes back to normal pretty quickly once she vibes with the crowd more but still)

And a little bit after this, at the “I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream / away from who we’re meant to be” part, Reggie comes over to sing in the mic with Luke but Luke just doesn’t move over (which is pretty ooc for him as we know) and Reggie gives him this look like “hey did you wanna sing together?” and he responds with the sad face and Reggie (I love him your honour) goes back to his mic like he understands that Luke doesn’t wanna do some mic sharing atm and maybe even why even tho this is so weird for Luke to do

Not to make a lot of of nothing but that’s pretty telling about Luke bc we always see him go over to Reggie or Julie or he beckons them over to him during every single performance afaik, so him rejecting mic sharing with Reggie while trying (and failing) to mic share with Julie several times throughout the song goes to show that hes not just sad bc he wants to share the mic with anyone then, he wanted to share it with Julie specifically, and her avoiding him made him hurt and not in the mood to do one of his favourite things (the same thing actually) with his best friend, which kinda implies that he thinks of Julie as more than just a friend (“we say we’re friends / we play pretend” parallels anyone?) And all of that gives me so many juke feels for such a small moment wow

And then it’s that thing where Reggie and Alex stop playing and it’s just Julie’s voice and Luke’s guitar (yknow that guitar bit that’s not included in the studio soundtrack) and when he walks up to Julie on the piano he has his real sad/maybe a bit confused/and maybe cautious in a way (?) smile while he plays the chords

But then Julie leans in kinda and gives him one of her smiles so he does too and he starts smiling this like puppy dog “okay we’re good now” hopeful smile

And so he leans in a little bit more to sing in her mic I think (boy does not stop trying ill give him that) bc he sings for the next line, so obviously he needs a mic right? But Julie stands up really quickly, a big “not in my microphone, Lucas,” and he walks back to his mic while he’s singing the lines “something big, something crazy / our best days are yet unknown” with Reggie and Alex, which is something I’ve never seen (or noticed, at least) him do bc he is always in front of a mic istg. He might have another sad 🥺 face again but I’m not really sure bc we get one small not very great shot where he kinda looks sad and like he’s pouring his sadness into his singing before the cameras moves to Julie and when we see him again he’s back in the vibe of the song

And then the bit when Alex and Reggie poof out. I think Luke was supposed to poof out then too and Julie was supposed to finish solo but he stayed so he could finally get his mic singing with Julie. One bc once Reggie and Alex stop playing and poof out, he stops playing too and lets his guitar hang by the strap while he walks over to Julie’s bench instead of poofing out. And when he sits down, right before singing and right after starting to sing, he has this hopeful, cautious (but in a soft way yknow?) expression. And then the other reason is that when you watch the video several times and at .75x and .5x speeds, you can see Julie startle just a little bit when he starts singing, as if she wasn’t expecting him to be there. But then she starts smiling, kinda like she wanted to sing with him and do their Thing the whole time, but she wouldn’t let herself so she could try and prove a point to Flynn, but then finally realized that she liked singing with Luke. And when she smiles, Luke smiles, and we get the soft end of Edge of Great duet, arguably one of the most iconic juke moments

Finally, all throughout the performance for the whole “she wanted to do the Thing with Luke but wouldn’t let herself to try and fail to prove a point to Flynn” thing: throughout the performance you can see her go all around the stage, like near the crowd, next to Reggie, close(ish) to Alex, on top of her piano, but she practically avoids Luke’s side of the stage completely, never going near him or even getting up close to the crowd past the middle.

Oh hecc this turned out WAY longer than I meant it to be but yeah. All of this is just like a “holy shit this is some amazing writing” moment for me, we stan Kenny Ortega and Nora Sullivan on this blog y’all

[carnationcreation]

Can i request a meet cute for Reggie of JATP, female reader could be someone who can naturally see/interact/touch ghosts(like a medium?), and she just so happens to notice Reggie at a cafe and he notices she can see him? Rambly idea, I know but, pls and thank you 😅🙏🏼

The Median (JATP Reggie x reader)

Masterlist

Request an imagine here!

Request: Yes!

Prompt/summary:  Reader is a medium and she just so happens to notice Reggie at a cafe and he realizes she can see him

Word Count: 1,217

Warnings:  none

Authors note: I literally had an idea like this when I was watching the show today! Since I’m a practicing Pagan I’ve had a few experiences with spirits so that is what I’m going to be basing this off of. Hope you enjoy!

The laptop sitting on the table grew hot as (Y/n) frantically tried to finish the school assignment that was due at noon. The coffee shop was fairly empty for early afternoon, only a few customers at a booth in the back and the baristas up front working on orders as the top 40 countdown played over the speakers. (Y/n) cursed as she saw the battery drop down to 15%, she looked around and under her table to try and find an outlet to plug her macbook into but sighed as she stood up to continue the search.

She felt the crystal on her neck shift and the energy in the room chill slightly. This didn’t happen often for her. Normally this would signal a spirit trying to communicate with her but those mostly happen in her house, not a coffee shop. Surely there wouldn’t be a dead soul here, right?

She saw a boy sitting at a table near the window. His head was in his hands and the sleeves of his black leather jacket blocked her view of his face. She glanced at the bottom of the table and saw the white outline of an outlet peeking out from behind the metal pole of the table.

“Excuse me, do you mine if I sit here to plug in my laptop? I’m almost dead,” she asked sweetly but nervously.

The boy looked up at her confused, he glanced over his shoulder to try and figure out who she was talking to. It wasn’t until he turned back and saw her (Y/c/e)s gazing back into his brown ones that he realized it was him, “You can see me?”

‘Uh, yeah? Or is this one of those things people say to get someone to freak out and leave them alone?” she giggled.

“Umm, I uh- Yeah feel free to sit,” Reggie stumbled.

The girl turned to get her bags when she saw the other customers in the booth look at her with concern in their eyes. The girl closest to her spoke up, “Who are you talking to?”

“Huh?” (y/n) said and turned back to the table, “He’s right-”

A brief flicker of light cut her off, it’s something so subtle most people would miss. She knew exactly what it was.

“Oh, guess he’s gone now,” she tried to play it off cool but the embarrassment of the moment made her want to beat her head with her laptop. They must think she’s crazy. She quickly grabbed her bag and dragged her laptop and charger back over to the table.

“You’re dead aren’t you?” she said quietly as she opened her laptop, trying her best not to be heard from the booth.

“How did you know? And how can you see me?” he said.

“I’m a medium, I talk to spirits all the time.”

“A median?” he asked.

“No,” she huffed, “a medium!”

“I’ll stick with median,” he said as he leaned back in his chair.

The girl rolled her eyes, “I should’ve known when I first looked at you. Your aura is all out of whack. I normally can read people's aura like the back of my hand, and for some reason yours just isn’t showing.”

“What’s an aura?” his face scrunched up in confusion. 

“Think of it like someone’s spiritual fingerprint. I see colors around people and it tells me something about them,” (Y/n) tried to explain.

“Oh sweet,” he said. He stared at the girl in front of him. Her (Y/h/c) framed her face perfectly, her hands moved swiftly across the keyboard. She hadn’t looked up at him since she sat down, mostly to keep anyone else from staring at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was, but he was just so glad someone other than Julie could see him.

“I’m Reggie,” he said, sticking his hand out.

“I’m (Y/n), and my hand wouldn’t grab anything so you can drop yours,” she giggled.

“Oh, right,” Reggie laughed nervously, “so what are you working on?”

“Just an essay for my music appreciation class,” she shrugged.

“You like music?” he asked.

“I like it, not a complete music nerd but I can strum a guitar and I know basic piano.”

“Cool,” Reggie smiled.

“What about you?”

Reggie sighed, “Well when I was alive I was in a band with my friends. We all died the same night.”

“Oh that sucks. When did you die?” she said. Her typing slowed down as she got more interested in the conversation.

“1995, then me and my friends were stuck in some weird black room for 25 years.”

(Y/n) looked up and furrowed her brow before beginning to type again, “Oh you were in purgatory.”

“Per-what now?”

(Y/n) giggled, “Purgatory, it’s mostly a catholic thing but most spirits I talk to confirm it. It’s just a place spirits go when they either don’t cross over immediately or haven’t found their unfinished business.”

“Oh Alex told me about that!” he smiled.

“What’s yours, do you know?” 

“I don’t, probably has something to do with music though. Watch this!” he said. He thought about his bass and it immediately popped into his hands. The girl jumped and looked at him questioningly.

“Pick up my pen,” she said slowly.

Reggie put away his bass and leaned forward, he reached towards the pen but when he got close to touching it his hand passed through the pen, table, and he fell forward slightly. The motion caused (Y/n)’s drink to spill some over her notepad and she jumped to grab napkins out of the dispenser.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” Reggie said as he sat up and raised his hands up.

(Y/n) only laughed lightly. Her eyes flickered over the rest of the cafe. The big booth table had left and it was only them and the baristas left in the store. The cashier giggled slightly at the mess, thinking the girl bumped her own cup.

“So you can pick up your instruments but not objects?” She said. She leaned her face on her hand and used the other to scroll through Tumblr on her laptop.

“Sometimes if we focus really really hard, but it feels tiring.”

“That gets better the longer you're in between, I’ve met spirits that have been here for centuries and they can open doors and turn on radios and stuff,” the girl shrugged.

“But it’s weird, if we play instruments people can hear and even see us! And the girl that got us out of, what’s it called? Pur-ga-tory? She can always see us,” he said confused.

“Even when you aren’t in the house?” (Y/n)’s eyes flickered up to his.

“Yes!”

(Y/n)’s eyebrows furrowed again, “Wow that’s really strange.”

Before Reggie could respond he heard the door jingle open and Julie stepped in. She found him sitting at the table and slowly walked up.

Reggie looked at the girl in front of him, “(Y/n) this is Julie, she’s the one that got us out of purgatory.”

(Y/n) turned around and stuck her hand out to Julie, the girl looked extremely confused.

“Wait, you can see him?” she said.

“Yes yes we’ve just been through that. I’m a median. He can summon a bass out of nowhere too,” (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

Reggie interrupted, “Hey (Y/n) the median, you wanna come to band practice?

[mouse-fantoms]

Why You Shouldn’t Sleep on I Got The Music

I know that when we heard that Jatp got an Emmy nomination (one of seven) for Best Original Song and the three that were up for that title was Unsaid Emily, Other Side Of Hollywood and I Got The Music. I saw a few people being confused as to how I Got The Music got a nomination. I know that as the fandom goes that is known as everyone’s least favorite. As the title of this suggests, I just wanna bring another perceptive into that conversation.

At a first look, I do understand why it’s not everyone’s favorite because it’s not a Julie and the Phantoms (the band) song and those (we are a tadddd bias) tend to be our favs. But, I Got The Music means something.

As we know, when she walks into the building she’s boppin’. She’s dancing, drumming along, signing along (probably doesn’t actually sing out in reality that might be part of her daydreaming taking over but she’s probably lip syncs to whatever she’s listening to) and her classmates see that.

Granted we didn’t see what Julie was like before her mom passed but because Ray says “They brought my little niña back” we can assume that how we see her now is similar or what she was like before Rose passed. Since it’s been a year since her mom passed, it was likely her classmates would have seen the change in Julie. Even if you don’t know the person, you’re still going to notice a change in your classmate compared to how they usually are.

The way all her classmates react in the beginning of the song (we know it’s reality bc Julie has her earbuds in) is they’re happy! They’re dancing and going along with her! This is the first time they’re seeing Julie back to the self they remember her as (there could have been new students that transferred into the new school year and they would just know Julie as how she was before she met the guys). Like they’re all smiling and stuff bc they haven’t seen her like this in a year, she’s back to the old Julie Molina they knew and saw her as and I don’t know it’s just very heartwarming to see her classmates react like that. 🥰

This is where her daydreaming takes over as you can probably guess. Very High School Musical-y (lol we can tell Kenny is apart of this project). She’s got a jacket, her hair is different, bestie is living her best day dream. Along with her hair, there’s something else about it,

In her hair, is the braided pink, blue and red strands. Alex, Luke and Reggie’s colors (as we know).

(The same strands that she did in reality braid into her hair for the Stand Tall performance)

Julie actively added the braided strands into her daydream to represent the guys because she probably feels like without them, she wouldn’t be at the point she is now. The point where she can sing a full song about how happy she is that music is back in her life.

This is a girl who for a year of her life was not able to do anything music related when previously that was a huge part of her life. She hasn’t set foot in the garage where music constantly was. The piano has a sheet over it because of how long it’s gone untouched. She apologizes that she hasn’t been in there more often because she deep down wants to, but hasn’t been able to because of the pain it would cause to her. Even when she was in class earlier, she hovers her hands over the keys wanting to play but can’t bring herself to. But then, three guys who’s entire lives are music, come into hers. Not to mention she’s also able to write songs with someone other than her mom for the first time with spending the whole weekend before this writing them with Luke.

She’s singing to everyone, involving everyone in her daydream about how happy she is music is in her life again!!! (I know I’m a broken record but... IT’S THE WHOLE POINT OF THE SONG 🥺😭 This girl who wasn’t able to do ANYTHING music related can now do music related things)

She wants to involve her classmates:

She wants to involve the music department who’s whole entire thing is music:

Involves her best friend:

Even gives classmates their own lil solos so no one misses out on the dancing and being involved!!!

Everyone is involved:

Of course even the lyrics show how happy she is!!!

Ain't gonna fight it cause it's useless

I can't get this music out of my head

It's like the beat is taking over

Weight off of my shoulders, dancing instead

And something's feeling different in the hallways

Somethings looking, looking like it's changed

I've been moving to the rhythm for the whole day

A million lyrics running through my brain

Talking about the start of music being back. Weight off of my shoulders as in her life isn’t all about her grief anymore. Dancing instead as in for the first time, she’s focused on something else and her grief isn’t the top priority because music is again. Somethings looking, looking like it’s changed I mean pretty obvious there, she knows that there’s a change in her now that she has it back.

Everybody here we go, this thing is unstoppable

Haven't felt this in a minute, it's incredible

I got the music back inside of me

Every melody and chord

Can't stop the music, back inside my soul

And it's stronger than beforе

Haven’t felt this in a minute, it’s incredible it’s an incredible feeling for her. And it’s stronger than before when you got three guys in your life who’s entire soul is music, you’re gonna get it back stronger and more intense than ever. She’s just so happy music is in her life again and it’s so wonderful to see Julie Molina sing about it 🥺

[adorethedistance]

Party Hard - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: drinking, partying, intoxication, non sexual stripping, swearing probably, 

Words: 6343 (which, if you know me, is a FUCK ton)

Summary: Going from tipsy to full on drunk is a terrible idea, but especially when you’ve got a secret to hide that could mean the difference between preserving and ruining your relationship with your best friend.

A/N: A couple items before we get started: I think I’m back on my bullshit? I mean I wrote this fic and it’s three times the length of my normal fics. Also I wrote this headassery as a literal self insert me(ace) x someone and so there are a couple flaws here and there that make this something I’m not 100% proud of. Owen picks the reader up a few times and I’m aware this kind of thing can really effect someone’s experience with this fic so I do apologize for the lack of inclusivity in regards to body type/ableism. I’m falling really behind on school work because I just can’t find the motivation which either means y’all will be seeing a lot more of me soon or absolutely nothing at all. Not sure which yet.

“You’ve got it so bad.” Charlie rests his left arm on his best friend’s shoulder, tipping back the half-full angry orchard bottle he’d been nursing for the better half of an hour. Owen’s stare is immediately broken and he crosses his arms defensively.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Turning to meet his friend’s smug stare, Owen shoots Charlie a glare of annoyance before returning his attention to the girl on the dance floor. Surrounded by a gaggle of her closest friends, Y/n is dancing and singing her heart out to Fergalicious with Chelsea, Leila, Savannah, and Carolynn. The bunch of them share in sporadic laughs as they exchange ridiculous dance moves just to add to the fleeting moment’s laughter. An assortment of screeches and squawks blend together as they all prepare to sing the rap section of the song. Observing the level of excitement the girls have over the verse, Owen can’t help but laugh at the spectacle.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Charlie inquires between sips of his cold drink.

“What?”

“Y/n. Why have you not asked her out.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah. Because you haven’t asked her out.” Owen rolls his eyes before turning 90 degrees to fully face the smug guitarist. He turns about-face to prove a point, but another symphony of squeals at the next song choice drags his attention back to his other best friend on the dance floor. “You’re so whipped.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! Look, if you don’t ask her out tonight, I will.”

“You’re not even into her,” Owen protests unceremoniously. Setting the molasses colored bottle on the counter next to Owen, Charlie steps back and copies his position of crossed arms and a relaxed stance.

“You’re right, I’m not. But you are, and if that’s what it takes to light the fire under your ass then I’ll do it.”

“She wouldn’t say yes.”

“Are you sure? I mean, the only way to know for sure is to ask.” And with that, Charlie is off, speeding toward Y/n at a pace that launches Owen into an impulsive chase. To prevent his friend from doing something stupid, Owen shoves him in the opposite direction from the group of girls on the dance floor. What he hadn’t anticipated was Charlie moving so far so fast. Owen has longer legs, he’s supposed to be the faster one, not Charlie. That’s why he hadn’t anticipated turning away from his musical friend to come face to face with a very flushed Y/n. Her lip-gloss coated lips are parted as she catches her breath from all the dancing. They look so soft and inviting that Owen can’t help but stare, and doesn’t realize the several looks of confusion among the girls around him.

“Everything okay, Owen?” Snapping out of his hyper focused stare, Owen blinks a few times, trying to generate a reason for coming over.

“You’ve been dancing for a while.”

“...Yeah?”

“Let me fix you a drink?” His statement comes out as more of a question but the breathless girl agrees nonetheless. Owen extends his hand to her which she gladly accepts but not without a quick word to her friends.

“I’ll be right back, I’m getting a drink.”

Her friends aren’t stupid, quite the opposite actually. And they see right through Owen’s facade of fixing her a drink because she’d been ‘dancing a while’. Please. As if they didn’t know a desperate attempt at flirting when they saw it.

The pounding music from the backyard begins to fade and muffle once the pair step into the Shada’s beautiful kitchen space. Owen leads her to the kitchen island where he has her take a seat on one of the barstools in front of the high countertop. Stepping around the fixture, Owen busies himself with whipping up a drink for Y/n at the makeshift bar on the island. He doesn’t even have to ask what it is she wants. Ice, pink whitney, club soda, and a splash of lime juice mixed together in a red solo cup Owen had considerately written her name on before going all mixologist-mode.

“Your usual.”

“Thank you, sir. You know, I’ve only had a handful of barbecue chips since I got here, and I’m already tipsy, so this actually might get me completely drunk.” Taking a sip, Y/n hums out of pleasure, “Why do you make my favorite drink better than I make my favorite drink?”

“So you have a reason to keep me around.” At the sound of Y/n’s laugh, Owen cracks a smile in time with his favorite sound in the world. The blonde haired man leans forward to rest his weight on his left forearm. He stares at her with adoration seeping from his gaze, before lifting his own cup to drink with her.

“What is that?” she asks, sitting up taller to try and see into Owen’s cup over the island.

“Jack Daniels.”

“I want some.”

“No,” Owen answers swiftly albeit softly. Y/n, however, is not feeling as conciliatory.

“No?”

“Have you ever tried whiskey before?”

“Well, no-”

“You’re drinking a fruit flavored cocktail that’s like 30% nonalcoholic. A sip of this would knock you off your little ass.” Y/n frowns at his words and employs a fake pout of anger to guilt her now laughing friend. Despite her smile, she whines,

“You suck.” Owen merely shrugs unapologetically before sipping and wincing at his drink of choice. “So… how did your date go- with Amy?” And there it is. The question that’s been at the forefront of Y/n’s mind for the last 24 hours.

Owen met this girl Amy at a more professional house party type of event and they hit it off right away. They spent the night invested in conversation, sharing in a cacophony of laughter. Y/n had no right to be upset, but she was. Amy was drop dead gorgeous in that Mini length red, velvet dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her figure was snatched to the gods, and she was about 5’3”; a seemingly irrelevant thing to notice, but Y/n knew that was the height Owen loved in a partner. At least, based on all his previous flings. And not to mention, her beautiful golden blonde hair that extended all the way down her toned back. Amy was perfect to all standards including that of any straight man with eyes and undoubtedly Owen’s. They spent the entire night together, Y/n long forgotten despite having been Owen’s plus one.

Y/n on the other hand didn’t exactly view herself as the drop-dead gorgeous supermodel type. Seeing how Owen took an interest in her at that event, it was no wonder Y/n was jealous. In fact, she had been so jealous that she allowed their flirting to ruin her entire evening.

She had been invited platonically as Owen’s guest, but Owen didn’t feel guilty about leaving her alone once he saw Charlie was by her side the whole night. Little did he know Charlie was only there for her because Owen wasn’t. It was pity company. Pity company that she was grateful to have as she cried into a few gin and tonics. Y/n avoided telling Charlie about her feelings for the adorable drummer, but with the way events transpired, he had figured out what it was that had upset her.

Charlie so badly wanted to give Owen the guilt trip of a lifetime. And he did once he and Owen were alone, heading home in Charlie’s orange hatchback car. He did so by telling Owen about how his best friend had spent the entire evening crying into gin and tonics. ‘Y/n doesn’t even like gin and tonic’ was all Owen could come up with.

When he inquired about why his best friend was crying, Charlie said he didn’t know, but it may have had something to do with the fact that the person who invited her spent the whole night ignoring her; he left it at that, leaving Owen to connect the dots, sort of. Owen had come to the realization that Y/n must have been crying over him, but why? Unable to comprehend a reason, he pushed the situation to the back of his mind. So far back that when Amy texted him that same night, he immediately responded and eventually set up a date for them to get dinner alone Friday evening.

The date was fine. Objectively there was nothing wrong with it. But every time Amy took a sip of the gin and tonic she had ordered, he couldn’t help being reminded of Y/n that night. It took Owen a solid thirty minutes to finally conclude that maybe Y/n was... jealous? Of what? Of Amy? Quickly reviewing a long list of qualities, identical to the one that Y/n had thoroughly checked through when she first saw the blonde, Owen realized she was indeed jealous of Amy. But why? What did Amy have that Y/n didn’t?

Oh.

His initial conclusion in the car with Charlie had to be right. Y/n was crying over him, and seemingly jealous of Amy, all because Amy had his attention. Why was that a problem?

Oh… no. No, Y/n does not have feelings for him. Y/n is... well, Y/n. His best friend, his partner in crime, his confidant, there’s no way she’s in love with him. There’s a different reason as to why she’d been crying into drinks she didn’t like. And that different reason is why her text replies have been short and cold when he had asked for date night conversation pointers. And that different reason is why her smile kept faltering on FaceTime when he was asking for fashion advice for his date.

Y/n is not in love with her best friend.

Owen had spent the past year pushing down his feelings for the girl that threatened to bubble over the top. If Y/n was truly into him, he would’ve acted on them. But she isn’t, so he didn’t. At least, that’s what Owen told himself…

“It was alright,” he offers lamely as a reply to her inquiry. Y/n simply nods and takes another swig of her drink to dull the ache in the center of her chest.

“Just alright?”

“Okay, it was better than alright. She was great.” There’s a hole burning in the center of her heart, and against her better judgment, she expands the deficit by asking for more information.

“What does that mean- that she was ‘great’?”

“You know…” Owen trails off in search of the right words, some words, any words, but nothing comes to him. To sell her nonchalant demeanor, the hopelessly devoted girl is staring down into her cup as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. She didn’t expect Owen’s eyes to be boring into hers when she looked back up, so she quickly musters a polite smile. Maybe the average onlooker couldn’t tell it was fake, but Owen knows something is off. He just knows. Because he knows her.

“How did those conversation pointers pan out?” She’s deflecting, he thinks.

“One of them worked.” I’m just feeding into it, he thinks.

“Only one of them?” He’s holding back something, she thinks.

“Well, yeah. We didn’t really do much talking if you get what I mean.” I don’t think I can handle this, she thinks.

“I see…” The pair stands together in a silence so tense they felt like strangers. It’s awful. Y/n and Owen hate every second of it, but what could they do? In a moment blinded by upset, Y/n reaches across the island to grab the newly opened bottle of grey goose and pours what must’ve been no less than three shots of liquid into her cup. No club soda or lemonade this time, she chugs down the rest of her drink in a flash; Owen stares at her in disbelief and shock.

Y/n hates being drunk, she likes being the designated driver, she’s never had straight up liquor in her life, and she’s a lightweight, that’s for damn sure. Owen knows all of these things and is even more surprised to see her reaching for an almost empty bottle of gin.

“Hey. Maybe you should take it easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a lightweight and you know it. Put the cup down.” When Y/n shakes her head no, something in Owen snaps and his desire to be gentle is long forgotten. “Y/n. Put the drink down.”

“Why do you care, Owen?” In taking time to respond, Owen sees the opportunity and goes for it, taking the cup from her loose grasp and splashing it down the drain of the vegetable sink. “What the fuck?!”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink. Come on.” It’s only a matter of time until Y/n becomes an incoherent human being that’s impossible to wrangle, so Owen is very aware he’s on the clock. Snagging two Arrowhead water bottles in one hand, he takes Y/n’s hand in the other and brings her into the Shada’s den. There are only a few other people in the room, one is a couple and the other a pair of pining idiots, to which Owen becomes slightly wary. Not that the dynamic would change much. He and Y/n are practically a couple according to everyone around them.

Chelsea and Charlie are sitting fairly close together for just friends, on the chocolate brown loveseat facing the couch that Owen has plopped his increasingly intoxicated friend onto; Leila is sitting in a single armchair that a very tipsy Taylor is hanging over the back of to hug her shoulders. Upon seeing Y/n’s pouting expression Chelsea seeks more information,

“You good, fam?”

“He threw it down the sink!” She’s fading faster than Owen had hoped.

“I did. I poured what would’ve been her fifth and sixth shots down the sink.”

“Jesus, Y/n, are you trying to kill yourself?”

“What are you, a cop?” Even tipsy she’s still sharp as a tack. If Owen wasn’t frustrated with her at the moment, he would’ve probably laughed. But he is, so he didn’t. Slipping back into caretaker mode, he hands her one of the water bottles he snagged from the cooler on the way out. In her typical stubborn and petulant fashion, Y/n weakly throws the unopened bottle onto the couch cushion next to her. All their friends laugh but Owen isn’t having it.

“Y/n.” And it only takes a firm call of her name for the slumped over lightweight to glare at him but oblige. She retrieves the bottle and sticks her arm out straight toward Owen’s still standing figure.

“I can’t open it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucked up,” Leila comments.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you fucked up period,” Chelsea adds on. Charlie laughs lightly before resuming whatever conversation the four of them had going pre-Owen and Y/n’s entrance.

Satisfied with the small sips she’s taking of her water, Owen relaxes and takes a seat next to her on the couch. The temporary break in her temper tantrum allows Owen to save his breath; he opens his own water bottle, taking a few drinks which ended up being half the bottle. He’s given her a good bit of room on the couch but it isn’t good enough for Y/n. It takes her a few failed attempts to screw on the cap of her water but once it’s properly sealed, she moves closer to her best friend. The water has acted like some magical temperament cure as Y/n’s previously permanent pout has disappeared.

Owen knows he and Y/n are close enough to where cuddling wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But the way she’s burrowed into his side, picking up his seemingly ‘heavy’ arm to place it around her own inebriated frame, laying her head high up on his chest, and unintentionally resting her hand on his lower abdomen, something feels off. Her hand isn’t dangerously low, but low enough that the side of her limp palm has met the waistband of his jeans. Owen can’t help but feel his skin tingle and burn under her touch. Why is he so affected by her touch all of a sudden?

Owen is pulled from his snowballing thoughts by the sound of Y/n’s muffled voice against his chest. He leans down as far as he can which places his head on top of hers gently.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry,” he whispers just loud enough for her to hear. A tiny drop of warmth on his shirt under her head triggers Owen’s memory: Y/n’s an emotional drunk. She doesn’t get drunk often but when she does, she goes all in and becomes somewhat manic as a result. That accounts for her previous anger. Now it’s sadness, so in about ten minutes, she’ll be easily excitable and bouncing off the walls.

Y/n had carpooled with Leila and Chelsea to the party, and though Owen was upset about her not picking him up like they’d briefly talked about at first, he’s suddenly thankful for the arrangement.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

“Unhhh.” The lack of a coherent response is enough for Owen, and after finishing the rest of his water, he sits up on the couch.

“Where’s your house key? Hm?” The prospect of losing her key is absolutely devastating to Y/n as she begins to weep. Her imminent distress in response to Owen’s question has all their friends laughing once more; Leila speaks up,

“Check the left chest pocket of her jacket.”

Owen nods, noting the directions, and gently rolls his friend over on her back. Deciding against using her strength, Y/n flops over onto her other side which still allows Owen access to her pocket. His long fingers dwarf the button fastener on her jacket that she often struggles to open, and sure enough her sky blue house key is in her pocket just as Leila said.

“Thanks,” he acknowledges Leila before taking Y/n’s cold hands in his own larger ones to help her stand. It’s a bit of a struggle to stand and as a result, the fading girl leans a bit of her weight into Owen’s side. “You gonna say bye to our friends?”

Y/n nods a goodbye to each person in the room, moving from left to right naming Leila, Taylor, Chelsea, and then Charlie. Upon saying bye to Charlie the small girl starts to cry again, harder this time, much to everyone’s confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“Charlie looked a-at me like he didn’t l-like me.” The entire room bursts out laughing, Owen included this time, but she’s still crying. “It’s no-not funny.”

“I know. You’re right, it’s not funny.” Owen’s exaggerated sympathy goes undetected by the very emotional Y/n as she presses her face into his grey long sleeve shirt. She reaches up to hug her arms around Owen’s neck for stability as she adds more tears to the tiny spot from before. “Can you walk?” He asks genuinely as more of her weight leans into him. The only response Owen gets is a few soft sobs, and in reaction to her messy state, lets out a subtle eye roll. He shakes his head before bending down to place one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulder blades, sweeping her off the ground before she can protest.

“Would you guys tell Jer thanks and that I had to take her home?” A symphony of affirmations and goodbyes usher him out of the house, and once outside Y/n’s crying diminuendos into short sniffles and the occasional sigh.

“Here, be careful,” Owen panics as his friend nearly bangs the front of her head against the roof of his car. Once he cautiously places all her limbs in the passenger side, Owen shuts the door and hurries over to the driver’s side as if Y/n could hurt herself in the next five seconds. He places the key in the ignition but before he even touches the gear shift, he turns and looks quizzically at his best friend. The sniffling and sighs coming from her puffy face have lulled her into an almost unconscious state; Owen puffs out a frustrated sigh as he reaches across the entire car to grab Y/n’s seatbelt for her.

Another thing about drunk Y/n is that her emotional state makes her more likely to give in to physical impulses. So after she registers Owen leaning across her lap for the seatbelt, she grabs his shoulder so he doesn’t move away. The action surprises Owen and he turns his face to look into her half-lidded eyes. He’s trying to make sense of the action but his trailing thoughts are interrupted when the girl in the passenger’s seat leans forward slightly to put her face against Owen’s neck.

“I like your smell.” Owen tries so hard not to laugh in fear of upsetting her again, but he can’t conceal the smile growing on his face. He then gently pulls away from her grasp in order to actually start driving,

“Okay. Thank you.”

The car ride is composed of mostly comfortable silence with the occasional inebriated comment or nonsensical sound from the girl in the passenger seat; Owen had been so captivated by Y/n’s uncharacteristically relaxed state, he’d been driving on autopilot and instead of turning left to get on the highway that runs south to where her apartment is, he’d gone north to go to his own place. No big deal, Owen didn’t plan on leaving her intoxicated and alone, and she’s stayed the night plenty of times before now. What’s one more night? It isn’t until he puts the car in park and helps her out of the vehicle that Y/n clocks her surroundings.

“I don’t live here.”

“You don’t, no, but I do,” Owen replies simply before he slides out of the car. Y/n stays in the car as if Owen told her not to move, and looks up at him confusedly when he opens her door. In her tipsy state, she is able to recognize what Owen is doing and smugly places her hand over the buckle of her seatbelt. With her tiny palm over the red button, she begins giggling maniacally.

“What are you doing?” Owen asks with a frustrated sigh although he can’t help the small smile overtaking his features at the sound of her growing laughter. He doesn’t get a response, just more giggling which lets him know he’s going to have to do things the hard way now that she’s in a lifted mood. “Kid, you have to get out of the car.”

“You can’t make me.”

Owen takes a step back from the open door to reevaluate. Y/n always tells him to work smarter, not harder. Another one of her many bouts of wisdom is that you can keep the attention of children and adults alike with a vastly dynamic change in volume. The question is will she notice Owen using this tactic on her in her drunken state?

“Hey, Y/n/n,” his speech drops to a low whisper. “I’m sad, can you hold my hand?” The change in volume works exactly as described; completely convinced by the sincerity of his whispering, Y/n gives him her right hand. “Can I have the other one?”

When she nods a small ‘yes’ and gives him both of her hands, Owen finds himself fighting the urge to laugh at how easy that was. He takes both of her cool hands in his larger left one to reach across her body and release her seatbelt with a swift CLICK.

Luckily Y/n didn’t tangle herself up in the seatbelt, but she had other ideas for causing trouble. Owen helped her out of the car but once she was standing on her own two feet, she began running away from him. With a slam of the car door and a string of breathy curses later, he chases after his best friend before she can hurt herself on literally anything in the parking garage. The sound of Y/n’s laughter carries through the vacant space, and despite all her best efforts, Owen quickly catches up to her. Her giddy intoxication allowed for the suspension of disbelief that she could outrun the much taller Owen Joyner, but she’s sorely mistaken when his strong arms wrap around her waist and lift her feet off the ground. Y/n’s bouts of laughter are contagious; Owen finds himself laughing alongside his best friend. Setting her feet back on the ground he asks,

“Are you going to run away again if I let go of you?”

“Yeah,” she chokes out through the tail end of her laughing fit. The candidness of her reply prompts Owen to throw his head back, shaking it as if in disagreement with the universe itself,

“I appreciate your honesty.” And with that, Y/n screeches in glee as her best friend maneuvers her body in his grip to lift her over his right shoulder.

“Owen!”

“You did this to yourself, kid.”

The silent elevator ride up to his flat is comfortable relative to the current position they’re in. Y/n’s no longer fighting being carried but instead entertains herself by tapping out an intricate beat on the surface of Owen’s back.

“Guess what song this is.”

The beat she’s playing is close to incoherent and Owen tries to stifle his full laugh in fear of making her cry again. He’s been successful so far, but now having Y/n over his shoulder, she can feel the movement of his abdomen that was unintelligible by sight alone.

“Your favorite song,” he guesses insincerely.

“No, my favorite song doesn’t sound like that. It was sicko mode.”

“That was not sicko mode.”

“Owen, how come you don’t wear a badge?”

“What?”

“Because you’re the song police?” Owen can’t help but snort out a laugh even though the comment was made at his expense. Still sharp as a tack.

Once the pair reach the front door of Owen’s ‘bachelorette pad’ as Y/n liked to call it, he sets her back on the ground albeit reluctantly as he recalls why he was carrying her in the first place. Thinking quickly on his feet, Owen forms a plan that’s more likely than not foolproof.

“Hey, Y/n/n?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is still right behind him thankfully.

“Can I have a hug?” After a few seconds of silence in the hall, Owen begins to doubt his plan until he feels the weight of his best friend leaning on his toned back. With her cheek pressed against the middle of his spine, Y/n brings her arms around his waist, clasping her hands tightly together. Her semi-public display of affection allows Owen some time to unlock his front door. Once he props the door open, Owen realizes that Y/n probably isn’t going to let go any time soon and opts to waddle through the threshold with her still attached to him. He’s able to turn around and lock them back in for the night which makes the girl begin to laugh.

“Was this your plan all along? To get me drunk so you could lock me in your apartment and hold me prisoner for the rest of my life?”

“And I would’ve gotten away with it, too...”

“If it weren’t for those meddling kids and their dog.”

True to his imagination that Y/n wasn’t letting go any time soon, Owen swivels her around his torso so that he could hold her to his side rather than support her with his back. He now has his right arm over both of her shoulders as she continues to hug her best friend. The way she leans her head onto his chest makes Owen’s heartbeat the tiniest bit faster. ‘She’s drunk, she doesn’t know what this does to you’ is the mantra blaring through Owen’s subconscious. Shaking any and all sort of romantic thoughts out of his head, he begins to lead her back to his bedroom.

Flicking the lights on proves to be a mistake once Y/n starts groaning miserably, and Owen decides the floor lamp is a better option than the overheads. Much to Owen’s surprise and relief, Y/n moves to sit on the edge of his bed on her own volition. She’s not upright for long as she collapses into the sheets of his unmade bed that contemplated neatening before leaving the house; hindsight is 20/20.

“Hmm. I like your smell,” Y/n parrots despite already bringing up the topic on the ride home.

“This is the same cologne I always use.”

“No. I like your natural smell.”

“What?”

“I was reading up about pheromones the other day. And there was this thing that said when couples like each others’ scent, it’s like a primal way of seeing if you’re immuno-compatible with someone so your offspring have the best chance for survival. It’s an evolutionary thing for the survival of our species. Ants have pheromones, too.”

Sometimes she has trouble remembering to feed herself, but leave it to Y/n to remember extensive information about pheromones whilst intoxicated. The concept is intriguing to Owen, so he proceeds to ask questions, ignoring the tug on his heart he felt after hearing her say the word ‘couples’.

“So, if I like your scent, we’re immuno-?”

“Compatible, yeah. But it’s mostly me because you can sniff out my period.”

“I can what?”

“I read that men can tell when a woman is at her most fertile because that’s when they like her smell the best. They did a study where a bunch of men were introduced to a few different scents, and without fail, the one they liked the most or would describe as ‘sexy’ or ‘attractive’ was the scent they took from the woman who was ovulating.”

Y/n continues talking about what she learned about pheromones as Owen picks up a bit of the mess around his room. She returns to the topic of ant pheromones as he digs through his surprisingly large closet for something for his friend to sleep in. His temporarily bubbly best friend also notes that he should ‘sniff her now because she’s ovulating and he would like that’ which makes him laugh into the drawers of his waist-height dresser. Returning to find her still slumped over on the bed, he pats her leg and beckons her to sit up. After Y/n’s upright again, Owen hands her his classic black ‘BEANS’ t-shirt and a pair of briefs that won’t properly fit her but will fit better than a pair of his actual pants.

“Can you put these on for me?”

“Yeah.” Owen’s conflicted with both wanting to respect Y/n’s privacy by leaving the room, and prioritizing her safety, and not leaving her unattended at any moment. He comes to a compromise which is staying by her side but turning a full 180 to face the wall of his bedroom. A couple of moments pass until Y/n begins whining frustratedly.

“Owen.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t ubns-” her words become incomprehensible as she begins to cry again and Owen turns around to find her struggling with the buttons on her shirt, her jacket long discarded on the bedroom floor. This shirt: her white, cap-sleeve crop top with a peter pan collar that she wore for anything mildly significant, this was her favorite. Owen remembers her fussing about how she ruined it only to find that she just forgot to steam it one day. So with a little heat and water, Owen had fixed the shirt like nothing ever happened, and he’d do it a million times over again if it meant he got to relive seeing the smile that graced her face for the first time again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do the buttons.” She runs the back of her right hand against her tired eyes to wipe away her tears and Owen internally curses himself for the way the small action makes his heart flutter.

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah.”

“Listen to me, you are okay,” he sinks to kneel in front of Y/n as she sits tiredly on the edge of the bed. Owen doesn’t miss the slight tremble of his hands as he reaches up to unbutton her shirt, but he prays that she will. Through tiny sniffles and teary eyes, she watches his hands effortlessly work down the length of her shirt, each button modestly dancing between his fingertips. Once the short top is fully unbuttoned, Owen returns to his normal standing height and Y/n attempts to shrug the fabric off her body. She struggles lightly and knowing her frustration is imminent, Owen reaches down to gingerly push the sleeves off her shoulders. The light graze of his rough, calloused skin against her own skin sends electric-like shocks through the both of them; yet neither of them believed the other felt it too.

Owen hastily withdraws his hands and, without warning, Y/n quickly removes the bralette she was wearing. Owen’s eyes widen slightly at her lack of inhibition. He does his best to be a gentleman and swiftly redirects his gaze to the white ceiling fan that has all of a sudden become the most intriguing object in the universe. His lower peripheral vision indicates that she’s finally slipped the black tee over her head, but she begins sniffling more fiercely as she struggles with taking off her jeans. Owen sighs and drops to his knees once more in spite of himself, and aids his best friend in slipping the material over the length of her calves and off the tips of her toes. Hoping to speed up the process, he grabs the briefs he had brought her and unfolds them in preparation for helping her into them. His efforts are all for naught as Y/n forgoes the need for any more clothing and slides under the covers of his unmade bed. Owen then turns to leave the bedroom, opting to set up on the couch for the night before Y/n’s small voice is cutting through the comfortable silence.

“Where are you going?” He sighs,

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll get you some water and Advil for when you wake up tomorrow.” Y/n then nods acceptingly and allows her eyes to flutter closed as he leaves the room. Despite how tired she feels, Y/n won’t quite yet let herself sleep--not ‘til Owen is beside her. When he returns he sets the ibuprofen bottle on the nightstand before uncapping the Kirkland brand water bottle he had in the fridge. He coaxes her into sitting up just one more time so she can drink some of the water before falling asleep. She sits and rubs her tired eyes as she drinks and Owen has to physically force himself to look away from the adorable sight. He just wants to take care of her forever but things have always been strictly platonic between them.

The risk of making their friendship weird or awkward was just too great.

“Goodnight kid, I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Owen leaves without awaiting a response and lets out an annoyed sigh before setting himself up on the couch in his living room. He was so focused on getting Y/n to bed safely that he forgot to grab clothes for himself. Not a big deal. He simply strips down to just his underwear and climbs underneath the thick Pottery Barn throw blanket Y/n had gifted him as a housewarming gift. That and a fire extinguisher because ‘you don’t notice its absence until you need it’ she claimed. The memory makes Owen smile and he allows his eyes to close after a long day.

A long day that was about to get longer. Owen finds himself sinking further and further into sleep until he hears the padding of footsteps that are now in his living room. He’s too tired to open his eyes, and it’s not like he doesn’t already know who it is. What does surprise him, however, is the feeling of the familiar weight squeezing between the couch and his turned back.

“What are you doing?” He half mumbles into the night.

“You’re warm.”

“That was not the question, Y/n/n.” After not receiving a reply, Owen turns as best as he can to look at his friend who’s nestling her way into his sleeping arrangement for the night. “Kid-”

“I just wanna be with you.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out of irritation, exhaustion, and a sliver of adoration before sitting up on the couch, “Come on.”

He stands up, fully expecting to have to drag her back to the bedroom, but finds relief in seeing her struggle her way off the couch. Slipping her tired hand into his unexpecting, larger one, Y/n allows her friend to lead her into the bedroom for the second time that night.

Owen considerately lifts the covers for her to climb back into before getting into the other side of the bed.

“Owen.”

“Hm?”

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, kid.”

“No,” Y/n speaks in a casual tone as if she’s not divulging into her biggest emotional trepidation to date. “I love you, Owen.”

Owen can’t help the way his heart seemingly stops. The way the butterflies in his stomach are going wild. The way he wants to smile like he’s the biggest lovestruck idiot on planet Earth.

She’s drunk. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She won’t remember this tomorrow.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

She won’t remember that tomorrow.

***

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[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: roommates Alex and Willie share a bed on the night of a storm and it becomes a habit, resulting with a confession and a kiss. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

Sorry this has taken me so long to get round to! I absolutely loved the request and it was a joy to write, especially since I’m so stuck in my JatP feels for the anniversary. I’m always a sucker for a one bed trope too! I really hope you like it, thanks for the request!

Raging Storms and Lovesick Hearts

There were times that Alex wasn’t sure if moving in with Willie was the best decision he’d ever made or the worst. In many ways, it was a decision he would never go back on – living with Luke and Reggie had been fun during the day, but apparently neither of them had ever heard of sleep and decided to make that Alex’s problem, so now that he lived with Willie it was nice to finally know what it felt like to be well-rested. It was also great because he got to spend much more time with Willie, something he’d craved for as long as he’d known him.

But that was also sort of the worst thing about it all.

Being around Willie all the time was beginning to drive Alex a little bit insane. Not in a bad way, it wasn’t like he felt stifled or had grown bored or frustrated by Willie’s near-constant presence in his life. If anything, it was the opposite. Nowadays, he got to see every version of Willie, not just the smiley, put-together version he saw when they met up on odd weekends. Now he got to see tired Willie, just rolled out of bed, still unsteady on his feet from sleep; he saw even more of the kind, generous, fair Willie who offered to do the dishes whenever Alex cooked dinner; he saw the childishly exhausted Willie who crashed on the couch and slept for three hours every time he got back from the skatepark; he saw adorably sleepy Willie at night when it was nearing midnight and he was reluctantly going to bed, eyes already drooping closed; he saw paint-splattered Willie, brushes tucked behind his ears and shoved into his hair, headphones in, working tirelessly on some big piece that Alex admired every stage of; sometimes, he saw a version of Willie that made his heart ache, a broken version of Willie with tears running down his cheeks as he wiped furiously at his eyes as Alex did everything in his power to console him. He saw every version of Willie and he wanted them all so badly, but he couldn’t have any of them.

And sure, he’d brought this upon himself. When the guy he’d been pining over for exactly one year had asked if he wanted to move in, he could have guessed that it would ruin him, and he could have said no. It would’ve been easy.

But Alex had seen the smile on Willie’s face, the excited glint in his eye about the prospect of living together, and his affirmative answer had been out of his mouth before he’d given it a second thought. He was paying the price for his thoughtlessness now, condemned to watch Willie be anything but his for as long as they lived together. Frankly the whole thing was exhausting – he had to wonder if that was adding to him getting a good night’s sleep every night.

There was another reason he preferred nights now, not just because he could rest easily. Night was the only time he didn’t see Willie, the only time he could get a little respite from his aching heart, lie alone in the dark and pretend he was the only person on Earth. Maybe it was a little lonely and more than a little sad to think of things that way, but it was a change from his usual pining at the very least. He thought that having that time to escape his feelings was definitely doing him some good.

Until the night of the storm.

There had been warnings about it all week. Alerts popping up on Alex’s phone, breaking news plastered on every TV he saw, articles about finding shelter and stocking up on food just in case the storm was worse than they thought. It was only supposed to be a passing thing, been and gone overnight, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

It had been raining all day, a dismal drizzle, the kind of rain that was so fine you didn’t realise you were soaked until you felt your clothes sticking to your skin. But around midnight, everything kicked off. Alex lay in bed, toying with a fraying thread on the duvet cover, listening to the rain hammering against the windows hard enough to rattle their frames, the wind whistling as it bled through the streets outside, the claps of thunder loud enough to deafen as they came just seconds after bursts of lightning illuminated his entire room. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit frightened, but he curled up tighter in his bed, pulling the covers close, and tried to force sleep.

A knocking sound made his eyes snap open. At first, he wondered if he’d imagined it, or if it was the sound of something hitting his window, but then it came again. And yes, it was definitely a knock. A knock at his bedroom door. A knock on his bedroom door at half-midnight in the middle of a storm. And there was only one person it could be.

Alex stretched as he swung his long legs out of the bed and flicked his bedside lamp on. He pulled open the bedroom door, squinting in the sudden burst of light from the hallway, and was met by a timid-looking Willie with his hair braided back, wearing his pyjamas, fist still sheepishly raised as if to knock on the door again.

“Hey,” Alex said, voice low with fatigue. He tried to stifle a yawn as he scrunched his eyes, forcing the tiredness out of them. “Is everything okay?”

He must have not hidden his exhaustion as well as he’d tried because Willie winced before saying, “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“No, no,” Alex assured him, “I couldn’t sleep anyway. The storm is too loud.” Willie nodded awkwardly, casting his gaze around, seemingly trying to look anywhere but at Alex. It was strange – Willie wasn’t the type to avoid talking to someone, especially if it was Alex, who was suddenly left feeling very concerned. “Is it… Is that why you’re awake too?”

“Kind of,” Willie replied, a half-smile on his face that quickly flickered out of existence. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. “It’s silly. Don’t worry about it actually. I’ll go back to my room. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Hey, no,” Alex protested, clutching Willie’s wrist as he tried to turn and walk away, stopping him in his tracks. Willie didn’t turn to face him, but did stop trying to leave, so Alex took that as a victory. “You could never bother me. And whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not silly.”

Slowly, Willie turned back around to face him, some mixture of hope and nervousness dancing in his eyes. When Willie looked down again, Alex followed his line of sight and saw that he still had a hold of Willie’s wrist. He dropped it suddenly, instantly aware that he’d been holding on too long and if he wasn’t careful Willie might take that to mean something that Alex definitely couldn’t have him knowing which would introduce a whole different kind of storm. (But before he let go, he could have sworn he felt Willie’s pulse racing; maybe it was his nerves, but maybe it was something else… something Alex didn’t want to get his hopes up about.)

“It’s just… I’m not really great with storms,” Willie admitted softly, meeting Alex’s eyes again. “They freak me out. I was just going to ask if I could… if I could, you know, sleep in here with you tonight? If it’s totally out of line you can say no, I get it, man, I won’t be up–”

Alex shook his head, not wanting to let him spiral, knowing that never ended up well for anyone. There was a pretty major part of him panicking over the fact that Willie was going to spend the night in his room, but that part was outweighed by the even bigger part of him that was worried and concerned for Willie, the part of him that wanted to protect Willie at all costs.

“No, no, it’s alright,” he said, interrupting Willie before he got too lost in his own head. “Come on, you can sleep in here. I don’t mind.”

It was only as the two of them backed into the room and Alex shut the door, blocking out all the light from the hallway and leaving them dimly lit by just his bedside lamp, that Alex remembered that his room was very small and ill-equipped for impromptu sleepovers. Which was to say, there was only one bed.

His internal panicking doubled in an instant. Because there weren’t many options here. He could make Willie sleep on the floor, which seemed incredibly harsh and unfair considering the state he’d just come to Alex in. He could sleep on the floor himself, which he really didn’t want to do because it would be cold down there and he didn’t like the idea of being able to see underneath his bed. They could relocate to Willie room down the hall where there was a small sofa that one of them (probably Alex) could sleep on, and they’d still be in the same room, but he knew they were both tired and switching rooms sounded like a lot of effort. Which just left sharing the bed, and truth be told, Alex was utterly terrified by the idea.

He was about to say something, ask Willie what he thought the best course of action was, but the words died in his mouth as he saw that Willie was already climbing into the bed. He already seemed much more at ease, the worry lines around his face softening as he closed his eyes. After yet another brief panic, Alex got into the bed again and laid down beside him.

He could hardly hear the raging storm over the incessant beating of his own lovesick heart.

The whole thing felt so intimate even though there was nothing overtly intimate about it. Really it was just one friend helping another, Alex being there for Willie when he was frightened, lending him a bed and a comforting presence. But they were so close, touching all along one side of Alex’s body, their breathing synced, the world around them slowly fading into nothingness until it was just the two of them.

After some time, it was impossible to tell exactly how long, Willie said, “Thank you, Alex.”

Alex sighed quietly, letting his eyes fall closed. He shuffled ever so slightly closer to Willie on the bed and as his tiredness overtook him he lost a little control over his inhibitions. Before he knew it, he’d thrown an arm around Willie’s waist, holding him close, their bodies curled together. When he registered what he’d done, he almost pulled away, but Willie relaxed into him so he let his arm stay where it was.

“Don’t mention it,” Alex whispered to the darkness around them. “I’m always going to be here whenever you need me.”

In moments, they were both asleep, the storm still raging outside.

*

When Alex woke up the next morning, the storm had all but died. He could still hear the gentle pitter-patter of rain drumming on the windows and roof, but the wind had long since ceased, as had the thunder and lightning that had lit up the night. He exhaled contentedly, relaxing against the warmth on the left side of his body, and nearly drifted off to sleep.

But then he realised what – or rather who – that warmth was.

The events from the night before came flooding back to his with all the ferocity of the storm itself. Willie coming to him in the middle of the night, how frightened he had seemed, how Alex had offered up his room, and how they’d fallen asleep tangled together. Now they had woken up in the exact same way, and Alex had no idea what to do about it.

If he moved, he risked waking Willie and that was a conversation he would rather avoid. But if he stayed still, Willie would eventually wake up and he’d still have to have that awkward ‘remember last night’ conversation. There was really no winning here. Even in a situation where he was cuddling the love of his life, he couldn’t come out unscathed.

So, he went for the slightly immature third option and opted to feign sleep, letting the whole thing be Willie’s problem whenever he woke up.

And eventually he did, not long after Alex. When Alex felt him stir and stretch, he tried to slow his breathing, keep his eyes closed only gently, and even let out a few fake little snores to try and sell the piece. His eyes were closed, so he had no idea if Willie even looked at him, but moments later Willie slipping out from his grasp and Alex heard the tell-tale creak of his bedroom door. Only when he heard it click shut did he breathe a long sigh of relief.

Honestly, he had thought that would be it. One night together and then Alex could get back to his nights of peaceful sleep. Only there were two things in the way of that:

One – suddenly, without Willie sleeping in his bed, Alex found that sleep was much harder to come by.

Two – after that night, Willie slept in Alex’s bed more often than not.

Alex really had no idea how it became so routine, but it did. About a week after the storm, Willie knocked on his door again and told Alex he’d had a nightmare, asking to sleep in his bed again. And who was Alex to refuse? So they’d slept in the same bed again, they’d woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

Then just two nights later, Alex’s resolve had broken and something had possessed him to go to Willie’s room and invite him back to his own. He had made up some flimsy excuse, something about his heater having broken and him needing warmth, but Willie hadn’t questioned it. They’d slept in the same bed again, they’d woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

And the very next night, they hadn’t even discussed it before the two of them just went straight to Alex’s room and climbed into bed together. They’d slept in the same bed again, woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

For something so focused on sleep, it was ridiculously tiring.

After it had gone on for a few weeks, Alex had to wonder if maybe this whole thing meant something. If maybe he wasn’t alone in his feelings. If maybe Willie felt the same, but had similar hang-ups to Alex – he didn’t want to ruin their friendship, didn’t want to embarrass himself by admitting to unrequited love, didn’t even know how to bring it up. Maybe sleeping by each other’s side had become something of a safety net for them, a teetering middle ground on the border of friendship and something else entirely.

And as Alex lay awake, head rested on Willie’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, he knew suddenly that he had to push it. No matter how much that frightened him, he had to take that leap and push them into the uncertain territory that was something other than friendship.

When he sensed Willie waking up, he did not pretend to be asleep.

He eased his head off Willie’s chest and rolled over to lay on his front, watching Willie as he blinked awake endearingly. Alex’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, but he knew he had to do it. He had to take that leap.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

Willie smiled gently, rubbing at his tired eyes and pushing his hair out of his face. “Good morning, hotdog.”

“I think we need to talk,” Alex said without preamble. It wasn’t the most natural segue into the matter at hand, but that hardly seemed to matter right then.

Willie blinked, clearly a little surprised, but then he nodded. Alex took a deep breath, steeling himself, and let it out.

“I really like you, Willie,” he said, maintaining eye contact even though it was the most petrifying thing he’d ever done. “Like, a lot. So much that it’s been kind of driving me crazy for a year now. I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel for about a year now, but every time I tried all this doubt and anxiety just told me it wasn’t worth it and that you could never like me the way I like you. And I believed it. I never said anything, and I fooled myself into thinking I’d be alright if we were just friends. But after all this, sharing a bed almost every night and then pretending it never happened… it’s proved to me how much I need you. I can’t sleep without you next to me, Willie. I want you by my side all the time. All of you. So, if I’m not reading this whole thing dramatically wrong, then I want to finally ask you to… to be my boyfriend.”

For a long moment, Willie said nothing. He held eye contact, like he was searching Alex’s eyes for the truth, whatever it might have been. But Alex had said the whole truth. He’d let it all out, he’d told Willie he needed him. All he could do was hope that Willie needed him too.

The moment ended abruptly when Willie breathed out and almost silent, “Yes,” and then surged forward to kiss Alex.

He was kissing him.

This was a possibility that Alex had never allowed himself to entertain, a thought he’d never followed up, a scenario he’d never imagined. He had known that once he thought about kissing Willie, he would be ruined if it never happened. But the real thing was better than anything Alex could have thought up in his wildest dreams anyway. It was like a muffled explosion – both harsh and soft, near and far, dangerous and safe.

When they separated, Alex rested his forehead against Willie’s trying to get his breath back and his heartrate under control.

“I’d been wondering if I should say something,” Willie chuckled, stroking his fingers through Alex’s hair. “You beat me to it.”

Alex smiled and pressed another soft kiss to Willie’s lips. “Doesn’t matter. We got there eventually.”

The next morning when they both woke up in Alex’s bed, Alex didn’t need to feign sleep. He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and pulled him tighter. He thought that after months of missed opportunities, they definitely deserved a lazy morning in bed together.

[pink-flame]

Lucky it Was Hotdogs

So! This is my gift for the @jatp-gift-exchange celebrating 6 months since the show came out. I just so happened to be assigned my friend @tmp-jatp as my giftee. Which is awesome because she’s awesome. She asked for angst and my first thought was my reputation is just going to get worse. 😂 And then I started writing, started over, changed to a different prompt two more times...had a few breakdowns but here we are! Basically all of my friends had to hear about my spiral the last couple of days so thank you and my apologies. 🙏 

T, I hope you like it! 💜💜💜

In some ways Luke thinks that it’s lucky it was hot dogs.

Of course, if he had been asked to choose a way to go back in 95 he probably would have said old and in his sleep. Or maybe he would have been a smart ass and said jumping the grand canyon on a motorcycle or playing an epic show in bad weather and having some sort of electrical incident (Reggie wasn’t the only one who had been involved in that amp incident not that he was in a hurry to tell Alex that). Contaminated hot dogs in an alley on the night of their big break probably wouldn’t have occurred to him and it definitely wouldn’t have cracked the top ten list of his requests.

But now that he’s in the future, with his band and with Julie and with their dreams once again a real possibility...he thinks the hot dogs would have been the right choice.

The truth is it doesn’t matter how tragic it is that three kids had their lives cut short at the same time it’s always going to be at least a little bit funny that they went from death by hot dog. It lets him use the tragedy as a means of teasing Julie as she bites into her sandwich and it lets Willie give Alex an affectionate nickname that’s only a little in bad taste. It lets Reggie hover behind Ray when Julie’s dad gets the grill out and clutch his stomach dramatically in a reenactment for his friends amusement. It lets Julie look at Luke like the fact that he is a ghost is mildly exasperating but not inherently upsetting, not like it would be if he was a walking reminder of a car accident or the cancer that took her mom.

So yeah, it’s lucky it was hot dogs.

Except...sometimes Luke wishes that it wasn't.

Sometimes he wishes that he had died from an illness or an accident or anything that would prompt someone to look at him and ask if he wanted to talk about it. Because...he does. Just sometimes. Wants to talk about how much it hurt. Wants to talk about how scared he was. Wants to talk about how even though being able to make music still (being able to make music with Julie) matters most it does bother him.

It bothers him that Julie is the only lifer he can touch (even though she would clearly be his first choice).

It bothers him that he fades into non-existence as soon as they stop playing.

It bothers him that he can’t even thank Julie’s dad for hosting their garage gig or show her brother that he’s holding it all wrong when he catches him strumming lightly on Luke’s guitar one day.

It bothers him that he won’t ever be anything other than what he is, a teenager with a guitar and a longstanding suspicion about the consequences of wearing sleeves while performing.

It bothers him that Julie will always be what she is now (an amazing teenage girl with a wrecking ball voice and a heart big enough to keep them with her through sheer force of will) but she will also become so much more.

An adult.

Someone with a job and a family and…

He can’t think about it.

Except he does.

Not all the time but often enough, especially at night when Alex is off with Willie and Reggie is watching tv with an unsuspecting Ray and Luke is wishing more than anything that he could find the escape of sleep.

So usually he ends up writing when he feels like this, seeking out the familiar sensation of pen flying over paper, words tumbling from the deepest recesses of his mind to collect into the shape of a song.

I know I’m being selfish

But feeling alive isn’t being alive

Feeling you breathe isn’t breathing

I just want this feeling forever

Instead I count every moment I’m stealing

“Why are you writing in the dark?” Julie’s amused voice cuts through the silence causing him to jump, a remnant of a time when he had anything to fear other than his own uncertain future.

He’s not sure if it’s a ghostly superpower or just the fact that he had been peering at his notebook from only about an inch away but it’s true, he hadn’t bothered to turn the light on and he saw it just fine.

The dark felt more appropriate somehow when he felt like this anyway.

She flips on the light and crosses the room to sink down beside him where he’s spread out on the floor. He’s so distracted for a moment by just how Julie she always manages to be (beautiful and amazing and distracting in the best way) that he doesn’t realize that she’s reaching for his notebook until it’s too late. He tries to snatch it back fruitlessly as she turns her eyes to the words he has scrawled across the page. He hopes momentarily that she won’t be able to make out his infamously illegible handwriting but his hopes are dashed when she reads out the last few lines in a thoughtful tone. He has a brief flash of affection at the realization that she must be his soulmate if she can read his handwriting.

He’s distracted from that thought though when he sees the smile slide off of her face only to be replaced with a tight frown before she turns to face him, concern shining in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” He says quickly, hoping to prevent any of his dark mood from seeping into the girl beside him.

The girl who has already known enough darkness for a lifetime.

“Every moment you’re stealing?” She quotes back to him, setting the notebook carefully back on the floor. “That doesn’t sound fine.”

He considers brushing off her concern, playing it off, claiming he’s not even writing from his own perspective anyway, that he doesn’t know where the idea came from.

He can do that because he may be dead but the culprit was hot dogs and that gives him an out to make a dumb joke and change the subject and keep things the way they are now.

And if it was anyone else he would have. But it’s Julie. And he’s Luke.

She can read his handwriting.

And she can read him too.

If he lets her.

“You know how you said your dad made you talk to someone after your mom died?��

She tilts her head, clearly not expecting this question. She answers it anyway.

“Dr. Turner,” She nods. “Three times a week for a while.”

“Did it uh…” Luke swallows hard, his throat suddenly impossibly dry considering he was pretty sure he wasn’t actually producing spit anymore period. “Did it help?”

Julie’s hand twitches in her lap and he can tell she is deciding whether she should touch him. He reaches out to toy with the frayed edge of her jeans where they burst open at the knee. The answer to whether Julie should be touching him is always a resounding yes in his opinion but he also wants to let her come to him. It hasn’t been that long since they’ve even been able to touch each other and despite how much they crave it there’s a lingering awkwardness after all the build up.

“Talking to someone?” She asks carefully. “Yeah, it did. After a while I felt like I needed space to sort through things on my own but by then I was able to talk with my dad and Flynn too.”

He nods, keeps his eyes firmly on the hole in her jeans.

“Luke…”

Damn.

He has to look at her when she says his name like that.

He raises his eyes slowly, meeting her soft ones with nerves he can’t quite place.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Always.”

Her question is so small and yet so big at the same time. Such a simple offer containing such a big promise.

Always.

Wasn’t that the problem?

His always might not line up with hers.

He could forget that fact for a bit when the band was hanging out and laughing over nothing or rocking a crowd’s face’s off or when Julie was smiling in that certain Julie way that seemed reserved only for him.

But he couldn’t forget forever.

And he couldn’t promise always.

So where did that leave him?

“Luke?”

She breaks him from his thoughts again and he pushes past his caution this time, reaching out to link her hand with his, their fingers slotting together effortlessly despite the way one of them isn’t really there.  

He isn’t really there.

Is he...real?

Luke suddenly feels a strange rush of panic, all of the thoughts he’s been pushing aside for months crashing through him at once.

He must have squeezed Julie’s hand inadvertently because he sees her flinch.

“Sorry, sorry,” He says breathlessly (not that he needs to breathe, he’s breathless, literally, he’s dead), drawing her hand up to press an apology against the skin there, his lips lingering for a long moment before he pulls away.

She’s not unaffected by his sudden actions, the way her eyes widen for a fraction of a second is proof enough of that, but she’s also determined and she doesn’t let him off the hook.

“Talk to me, Luke,” She says like an order and a request and a prayer all at once.

And he can’t deny her anything.

Not even this.

“I’m fine, I am...it’s just...I’m so happy that we ended up here with you Julie no matter what. I need you to know that ok? I just..I don’t...I don’t want…”

She waits as long as she can for him to finish that sentence but when he doesn’t seem prepared to, she leans closer, squeezes his hand, gives him that last push off the cliff he’s been teetering on the edge of for months.

“Don’t want what?”

“Don’t want to be dead.”

The words escape him in a hurried rush, one blending into another until it sounds like one long syllable of pain rather than a proper sentence. Still. He’s pretty sure the message got through.

“I know,” She says simply, her eyes sad but her touch impossibly gentle as her free hand comes up to cup his cheek. “I know, Luke, I know.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until she’s brushing his tears away with the delicate tips of her fingers.

And maybe he is real, at least a little bit if his eyes can still muster up the ability to leak like this and damn it why is that what he’s thinking about right now when the girl, the living girl, he loves is waiting for him to say something.

He wants to think of the perfect thing but what ends up coming out leaves a lot to be desired.

“Julie...I love making music with you. I love y...I love being in your life. But I’m dead. And maybe...maybe it would be better…”

“No,” She cuts him off firmly, gripping his chin lightly to turn his face more fully towards hers. “Whatever you think you’re about to say, the answer is no.”

“Julie…” He tries again.

She’s already shaking her head.

“I don’t care if you’re about to suggest some noble sacrifice or push me away or blame yourself for something...just...don’t.”

Any protest he has prepared dies on his lips, the slightest quirk of a smile taking their place even as a few stray tears make their way down his face.

“Ok,” He agrees simply.

Julie brings her other hand down to grip his knee as though she’s trying to keep him with her by anchoring him physically, making him part of her, making him real.

And that’s that.

It takes time.

A hundred aborted conversations with half confessions and unspoken requests for comfort and love freely given if not freely spoken.

But eventually he gets used to talking to Julie the same way he got used to writing with Julie and singing with Julie and falling in love with Julie.

So steadily he doesn’t feel the progress until one day he looks up and there’s no going back, not that he would ever want to.

He’s dead.

He can’t get around that.

He ate some bad hot dogs, and that will always be a little bit funny. It’s also sad and scary and tragic.

He’s dead.

But he’s also so alive.

He can’t promise always but he can promise as long as I’m here.

And he does.

Over and over and over again.