#jatp ask

[thereigning-lorelai]

they were my friends, my band, my family.

[galentir]

<333

[thesunwillart]

just wanted to pop in here and say your art is absolutely GORGEOUS!! i’m sure you’re aware of that already but still <3 and i’m absolutely in love with how you stylise and draw the jatp characters!!

have a nice day 🫶

HI!!!! thank u so much for ur kind words ;-; stylizing characters is something i try to put a lot of work into so its nice to hear that <3!! i hope you have an amazing day!! and here's an extra jatp doodle hehe

[mouse-fantoms]

Hey so Kenny 👀 sir you working like getting the full rights to your show or like what’s up 👀👀👀 I MEAN EITHER WAY ITS A VERY NICE MESSAGE I JUST 👀 the tumblr & TikTok fantoms wanna know desperately

[thedeathdeelers]

i miss juke every day 😔

juke really was a once in a blue moon ship, frfr

like what other ship gives u this much love and tenderness and tension without ever TOUCHING ONCE

only to then make us lose our collective minds when THEY FINALLY DO GET TO TOUCH BY HOLDING EACH OTHERS’ FACES!!!!

anyway. juke<3

[writerownstory]

this has probably been discussed before but- so do we think Rose knew Trevor was Bobby from the Orpheum? or is it just a “coincidence” in a series of events that was connecting Julie to the boys?

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

It just hit me that the boys all have graves somewhere... Do you think they've gone there? Has Julie? How do they feel about how and where they were buried?

sorry this took so long to respond to! I'm not sure if you meant it as a writing prompt or just a point of discussion.... but i wrote 2500 words on it anyway. Hope you enjoy!

Special thanks to @weneedglitter for her math and naming assistance :)

Send me prompts to help me reach my 2024 writing goal!

It’s sort of an accident, at the beginning. Reggie doesn’t mean to be looking.

He doesn’t really mean to be looking for anything, even if he sounded really suspicious and like he was a total lying liar face when he told Julie and the guys he was just “going for a stroll.” But honestly, it’s a coincidence more than anything that his stroll takes him to the bike rental place on the beachfront that used to be his house. And it’s a coincidence that the pimpled teen working the counter has that day’s mail laid out in front of him for all the world to see. And it’s a coincidence that in said pile of mail is a letter from Evergreen Cemetery addressed to “Archibald Peters or Current Resident.”

He doesn’t actually read the letter (his invisibility these days is spotty at best, and he doesn’t think committing felony mail theft would be much smarter of an idea than making an envelope float in mid-air anyway). He doesn’t know that the letter has anything more to say than “Hey you, know any dead people? Send ‘em our way!”

He doesn’t know it has anything to do with him.

But he goes home anyway— because home is Julie’s house, now— and slides Carlos’s laptop out of its super functional hiding place under his pillow, and looks up the address for Evergreen Cemetery.

And then he poofs into the kitchen and says, “Ray? Will you drive me somewhere?”

The car ride is quiet, mostly because Ray said, “You wanna tell me where we’re going?” when they got in the car, and Reggie said, “Mmhmm!” all high-pitched and obvious, and then never elaborated, and so trying to make other conversation seems rude. He just gives directions, and hums along to the radio, and Ray drives them to the cemetery where Reggie’s pre-ghost body may or may not be buried.

That’s the weirdest part of all of this. Not the mail theft or the bike shop or the idea that Reggie’s parents might have put him somewhere other than the Peters Family plot in Orange County where his grandparents and Great Aunt Barb are buried, but the fact that there is a body, very much dead and scientifically identifiable as his, lying under six feet of dirt somewhere.

He has a body. Now, currently, in most ways even an alive one. And yeah, he’s worked pretty damn hard to get this one, but it still feels really weird that there’s just another one… out there.

“Reggie?” Ray asks as he slows the car along the gravel driveway of the cemetery. “What…?”

He doesn’t finish his question, which is probably a good thing because Reggie’s not sure he has an answer. “Could you…?” he asks instead, staring down at his hands in his lap so he won’t have to look Ray in the eye. “Um. Would you maybe mind going in there and asking if… or, uh, where…” 

He trails off, unable to finish his own question either.

Ray makes a soft sound, somewhere between a hum and a sigh, and nods once before giving Reggie a comforting pat on the knee and getting out of the car.

He’s in there a long time. Long enough for Reggie to get all squirmy and start to feel bad for dragging him into this.

He can only imagine the conversation going on in there: Hi, can you please point me to the grave of a seventeen-year-old who died twenty-five years ago? No, no, I’m not related to him, nor do I have any legitimate connection to him that I can offer you as an explanation for why I’m asking. Please do not ask any follow-up questions.

Jeez. What was Reggie even thinking bringing Ray all the way out here, just on a hunch? As soon as he gets back to the car, Reggie should just tell him to take them back home.

But it’s only a few minutes later that the office door opens and Ray emerges, a piece of paper in one hand. He shakes hands with an older white guy— the manager, Reggie guesses, or whatever the term is for people in charge of the little office at a cemetery— and then heads back over to Reggie.

He gets back in the car, shuts the door, and sits heavily in the driver’s seat without buckling his seat belt or shifting the car out of park. Reggie opens his mouth to say something, closes it again. Shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Ray hands him the piece of paper. “You tell me what you wanna do, mijo.”

It’s a list— of names and plots, next to a handy-dandy little map of the cemetery. Three are highlighted— Reginald Peters. Alexander Mercer. Lucas Patterson.

Reggie shivers, the edges of the paper crinkling in his tight grip. “These are… Jeez. We’re all here?”

“Seems so.” Ray puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It was sort of a long shot, but I figured I’d ask while I was in there.”

Reggie stares at his name— at his friends’ names— just three lines on a list of ghosts.

He points at the plot number next to his name. “Guess we’re going here then?”

It’s not a far walk. Reggie leads the way, squinting at the map, while Ray follows politely behind. Ray doesn’t berate him or even comment when they get lost, and Reggie only gets them lost three and a half times. Eventually, they find it: a modest tombstone in a far corner of the graveyard, neatly kept with a still-fresh bouquet of lilies propped up against it.

The tombstone reads:

Reginald Alastair Peters

August 18, 1977– July 22, 1995

Beloved Son

Loving Brother

Cherished Bandmate

“Oh,” Reggie whispers, reaching out a tentative hand to touch the last line of lettering. He can’t imagine his parents choosing to spend extra money on that particular engraving, not without some serious coercion, but the only other option is…

“Someone’s been here recently,” Ray says, voice reverent and yet too loud, all of a sudden, in the otherwise silence. He reaches around Reggie to pick up the flowers and place them gently atop the headstone. “So your parents might still live nearby.”

“Maybe,” Reggie whispers, though he highly doubts his parents had anything to do with the bouquet. With effort, he tears his gaze away from his grave and down to the map in his hands. “Um. Can we–?”

He cuts off, swallowing against the lump in his throat, and instead points wordlessly at the plot numbers for his two best friends.

“Of course.” Ray puts a hand on his shoulder– warm, solid, reassuring– and takes the map with the other. “May I?”

Reggie lets it go with relief and wipes his sweaty hands on his pants. The walk between graves will give him a good chance to clear his head, and he’s way too distracted to follow a map without getting them lost way more than three and a half times.

But Ray only takes a few steps before he stops and frowns down at the map. He looks up again, turns a slow circle, and walks just a few feet before stopping again, the map falling to his side. “Oh. Well.”

Reggie goes to see what he’s looking at, and his breath catches in his throat.

There’s a good bit of space between them, but the next tombstone over from Reggie’s belongs to Alex. He continues down the line, and sure enough, the next one down from that is Luke’s.

They’re all distinctly different– Luke’s is the biggest of the three, Alex’s has a Bible quote snaked along the side– but they’re all adorned with fresh flowers, and they all have the same phrase tacked onto the end of their epitaphs:

Cherished Bandmate.

Cherished Bandmate.

Cherished Bandmate.

A cold feeling seeps through Reggie’s bones, not unlike the time he and Luke were playing hide and seek and he won by curling up inside the refrigerator.

“I think I wanna go home now,” Reggie says slowly, feeling shivery and stuck and ghostly in the worst way as he stands at the point of the triangle of his and his best friends’ graves.

“Of course,” Ray says, his voice muffled like he’s speaking through water or from very far away. “I’ll go get the car.”

But Reggie’s already poofed out.

***

He doesn’t intend to bring it up again. Because he’s not entirely sure Luke and Alex would want to know. And the last thing he wants to do is assume his friends are at the same place on the same journey regarding their life, death, and rebirth as he is.

He doesn’t want to hurt their feelings if he’s wrong about his theory. He doesn’t want to make them sad if he’s right.

But apparently Reggie’s not as good at concealing his own feelings as he’d like to think– even though Ray doesn’t say anything, and Julie at least seems convinced by Reggie’s “we were running errands” story, less than two days has gone by when she informs him that the jig is, in fact, up.

He’s sitting cross-legged on the couch in the studio, eating a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream very slowly because Ray made him promise he wouldn’t drip any on the sofa cushions.

Alex is out skateboarding with Willie. Luke is out “chaperoning” (read: mooching off of) Carlos and his friends’ laser tag party. Julie was ostensibly doing homework, which is why Reggie had taken his ice cream out to the garage, but now the doors open and Julie bounds in to join him, plopping next to him on the couch with a warm (if slightly mischievous) smile.

“Hey there, you,” she says expressively, poking him in the arm.

Reggie blinks, slowly drawing the spoon out of his mouth. “Hi, Julie.”

“We both know I’m not very good at beating around the bush,” she says, hands in her lap, “so I’m just gonna cut to the chase. The boys tell me you’re sad, and while at first I tried to convince them that maybe just not everyone thinks the 2002 Scooby-Doo movie is as funny as they do and that’s why you were a little quiet during movie night, the more I thought about it the more I agreed that you haven’t been your usual amazing chipper self… lately… So, uh. You know. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I know,” Reggie says, nodding, because he does know, and clutches his bowl of ice cream to his chest for some comfort. “I, um… I’m not… sad, I just… Okay, so you know how your dad and I ran some errands the other day and I came back early because I didn’t wanna have to listen to his sad Dad Rock the whole drive home and he didn’t have a single good CD in the car?”

Julie nods.

“Well, I actually sorta made all that up. We went to see where the guys and I are buried.”

Julie’s face falls, her eyes going wide. “Oh. Wow.”

“And I didn’t say anything,” Reggie continues, “because I didn’t really know how I felt about it yet. And I didn’t know how Luke and Alex would feel. I didn’t know if they’d wanna know.”

“Of course we would, bro.”

Reggie felt the spark alighting in his chest a split second before Luke spoke, so the sudden arrival of his friends doesn’t startle him. He ducks his chin, staring into his ice cream so he doesn’t have to see if they’re mad at him.

“Reggie…” Julie puts a hand on his knee. “You didn’t do anything wrong– this is a really complicated situation to navigate. It’s just… we didn’t even know you were looking.”

“I wasn’t,” Reggie promises, but he doesn’t know how to explain himself beyond that. He sets his bowl down on the coffee table and slowly raises his eyes to meet his friends’ gazes. “We’re all together. The three of us, our– we’re not buried with our families.”

Luke’s and Alex’s faces go through several expressions before settling on twin looks of determination. “Good,” Luke says. “That’s how it should be.”

“Will you go back with us?” Alex asks. “Take a look all together?”

In the moment that Reggie hesitates, Julie takes his hand in hers and gives it a warm, reassuring squeeze.

Reggie takes a deep breath, feeling it whistle through live, healthy lungs, and reaches out his other hand. Luke takes it and offers his hand to Alex, who joins hands with Luke and Julie to complete the circle. When the ghosts who aren’t quite ghosts anymore poof out, they carry Julie with them, until all four members of Julie and the Phantoms stand solemn but supported in front of Reggie’s grave.

They take it in. The epitaph. The flowers, a bit crumpled from yesterday’s rain but nowhere near wilting. The edge of Alex’s headstone just visible in their peripheral vision, and Luke’s just beyond it.

“We are all together,” Alex says in awe. 

Luke shakes his head. “Why would our parents–?”

A voice behind them says, “I insisted.”

They spin around. Reggie didn’t hear anyone approaching, and yet standing just a few feet back, dark sunglasses obscuring his expression, is Trevor Wilson, three bunches of fresh wildflowers tucked in the crook of his arm.

He nods toward the grave behind them. “They were gonna take you halfway across the state, and the Mercers wanted Alex cremated, and I wasn’t even invited to the funerals but I pitched a fit. Told them I’d pay for everything– the plots, the services, the upkeep– if only they’d keep you all… intact. And together.”

Reggie’s heart does an Olympics-worthy gymnastics routine inside his chest. “You added the bandmate line?” he guesses.

Trevor shrugs a little sheepishly. “I snuck it in on the paperwork. Don’t think Luke’s dad ever forgave me.”

“Yeah, well, my dad can–” Luke starts to say, and then trails off, shoving his hands in his pockets so it’s a little less obvious that they’re curled into fists. His voice is strained but sincere when he says, “Thanks, Bobby. For doing all that.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

With some hesitation, Trevor steps forward and past them, to lay one bouquet at the foot of Reggie’s headstone.

It feels right, for them all to be there together, paying homage to the people they once were.

Reggie’s glad he found this place, even if it was sort of an accident.

--

@wr0temyway0ut

@phantomwriter95

@littlepetbee

@secondhand-sunlight

@ddaxnggirl

@trustworthytoast

@interestinglittlerelationship

@fangirl17-07

@manualamadrugada

@easybugboy

@moonlit-asthers

[legolasghosty]

1+7 for willex please? <3

Willie spits into the sink as quietly as they can, the old house creaking in spite of his efforts. The clock on his phone silently informs him it's a little after midnight. Willie glares at it. It's entirely too late, and everyone at the concert was smoking, which means Willie is going to have to do laundry in the morning just to get the smell of cigarette and weed smoke out of their uniform.

At least they were mostly chill stoners.

Their phone buzzes on the countertop. Willie taps the screen, surprised to see a text from Alex. Shouldn't he have crashed hours ago? He's in the middle of training camp, so Willie has barely seen or heard from their boyfriend apart from brief text exchanges in days.

He opens the message quickly.

Alex: Hey are you still awake by any chance?

Willie rinses their toothbrush then grabs the phone.

Willie: Ya whats up?

Alex: Just woke up.

Oh.

Willie knows what that means. Sure, he hasn't spent a ton of nights sleeping beside Alex since they got together, due in large part to both of their crazy work schedules, but they've talked about it. The nightmares. Where they come from, what triggers them, how Alex comes out of it.

Willie: Scale of 1-63 how bad?

Alex: Uh... like a 34.

Willie glances out of the bathroom, down the dark hall. Both of his younger siblings are asleep. They don't have school in the morning since it's summer vacation, but Willie doesn't want to wake them regardless.

A soft mrup by his feet pulls their attention down to the floor. Cassie stares up at him with big, yellow eyes, glowing in the darkness. He leans down to scritch under her fluffy chin. She whips her tail back and forth while she accepts the attention, then strolls off towards the front door. Willie glances at the bedroom doors that hide his siblings, then grabs the phone again.

Willie: u wanna come over?

Alex: I don't wanna wake anyone up.

Willie: its fine cassie is already up so no repeat of last month :P

Alex: okay if you're sure. Be there in 10.

Willie slides in their retainer, then heads to the front room. He flips the outside light back on and turns on the kettle. Cassie starts rubbing against his legs, demanding attention. It's crazy to think that she was a stray less than a year ago. Just as the kettle starts to hiss, they hear a soft tapping on the front door.

"Hi," Alex mumbles when Willie opens it. He's wearing thin pajama pants and that worn out pink hoodie in spite of the warm night, arms wrapped around his torso.

"Hey Alex," Willie responds softly, stepping back to let his boyfriend in. "I got water ready for tea or cocoa or something."

"Thanks," Alex responds, entering and toeing off his shoes. "Sorry."

"No worries," Willie assures him. "I'd just gotten home from wor when you texted."

"Concert?" Alex asks as they head for the kitchen.

"Yeah, big rock band," Willie answers. "Lots of smoking."

"Youch," Alex comments. He takes a mug when Willie offers and pours hot water over a lemon tea bag.

Willie comes up behind Alex as it steeps and wraps their arms around his waist, hooking their chin over his shoulder. Alex leans back into them just a little. "How was training?"

Alex shrugs. "Fine I guess. Luke almost swallowed his tongue when Bobby joined us for sprints. Reggie and Nick got in trouble for choking on grapes while doing chubby bunny at lunch."

Willie laughs. "Sounds entertaining."

Cassie must decide then that the humans are wasting too much time, because she joins them near the stove. She sniffs at Alex's socks for a few seconds, then starts headbutting his calf. Willie lets go to allow Alex to crouch.

"Hey Cass," Alex murmurs, letting her inspect his fingers before scratching behind her fluffy ears. "Sorry, am I disturbing your beauty sleep?"

"I think I already did that when I got home," Willie points out, leaning against the counter.

"Awww, rough night for you, mama," Alex croons. He lets his free hand start petting over her floofy tortouseshell coat. "No rest for the wicked I guess."

"How dare you accuse her of such things," Willie jokes around a yawn.

Alex straightens up and begins doctoring his tea with a bit of honey. "I should let you get to bed."

"Are you coming too?" Willie counters gently.

Alex bites the inside of his cheek, then nods. "I gotta at least try, right?"

"For the sake of staying upright tomorrow, yeah probably."

Alex stirs in his honey, then takes the mug in one hand and offers the other to Willie. "I'm good."

"You're amazing," Willie replies as he takes it and leads Willie towards his room. It used to be an office, but Willie and his siblings had rearanged things after they lost their parents. It felt too wrong to sleep in their old room.

Alex sets his mug on the bedside table while Willie plugs in their phone. "You good if my alarm goes off at 6?" his boyfriend asks as he sits down.

"Yeah that's fine," Willie promises. They crawl to the inside of the queen sized bed, pulling the blankets back for Alex. "Just know I'll probably go back to sleep after you leave."

"Fair."

It takes them a few minutes to get settled, but eventually Willie is flat on his back with Alex curled into his side, sharing a pillow. Willie rubs slow circles into the tense muscles of Alex's shoulder and back. Their boyfriend starts to slowly relax under their ministrations.

"Thank you," Alex murmurs in the dark. "For...everything."

"Anything, you know that," Willie responds. He presses a kiss to the top of his head.

Anything else Alex might have said is interrupted by a sudden weight near their feet. Willie startles a little but Alex chuckles. The small intruder creeps up the bed until Willie can make out their cat in the darkness.

"Someone felt left out," Alex decides, reaching out to Cassandra.

She purrs and inches closer.

"She never sleeps with me when you're not here," Willie comments, smiling.

"It's cause cats like me better," Alex states, as if it should be obvious.

"Hey, you have your own cat," Willie protests. "No stealing mine."

Cassie lets out a little huff and curls up next to Alex. Willie tickles her under the chin behind his back. Between her and themself, Willie feels Alex finally let go of the tension in his limbs and his breathing starts to even out.

"Good night, Alex."

"Night Willie. Love you."

"Love you."

[stellarspecter]

even if it's not actually jatp s2 but just like a tour or new music or something I would still be mega hype. I would buy tickets to a jatp tour so fast u wouldn't even believe. and I would have the time of my life there in cosplay singing the words to every song. it's my eras tour

[pawprinterfanfic]

hiiii mrs pawprinter we have never met due to me being lowkey terrified of u when I was 17. but I wanted to say hi and also congratulations and also that you made my whole fucking night.

also this message I sent my irls in 2021:

ANYWAY LMAO huge congratulations to u both!!! and I am so very happy to be on the same corner of the internet again. big hugs 🫶 - Team / @team-118

heyyyyyyyyy omg this just made my whole night for reals 😭😭 jatp and ‘all that remains’ were also my whole life I MISS THEM SO MUCH

hehe yes ryn @thesunwillart and i met through jatp & the star wars au and she’s now my wife ❤️ i love her dearly. one of the best parts of life is being able to do fandom collabs with her in old AND NEW (hello buddie!!) fandoms

ily thanks for the ask!! sooo happy to be among fellow jatp warriors in the buddie trenches

[siriusly-rem]

Okay this might sound stupid but I was rewatching Julie and the phantoms and I really wanna know where the guys died. Like they’re sitting on a couch eating hot dogs. Where is this couch. Are they in some type of building or do they just have a couch out in the alleyway. I’m so confused and I really need to figure it out for a fic I’m writing. Pls help

[galentir]

hi I. love your art could you draw Reggie with a trans flag I don't even think he's trans (I don't have many jatp headcanons really) but I (a trans guy) named myself after him and he means a lot to me

A Reggie for a Reggie!

Also perfect call since it's the second week of the @jatp-renaissance during pride month with the prompt healing, sunlight and genders!

[bbreaddog]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your five favorite fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love. ❤️

Five fics by lil ol’ me, recced by also me:

Withering Heights | Alex/Henry (RWRB) | T | 2.2k | 1/1

“What on God’s earth do you think you’re doing?” Alex hides his hands behind his back and purses his lips together. He doesn’t laugh. And if he does, it’s only because Henry puts a hand on his chest and shoves him away, effectively forcing the sound out of him. “Funny, is it?” Henry hisses, hurriedly pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. Alex bites down on his lip in an attempt to stop his grin from spreading wider. It does nothing of the sort.

New Year Regrets | Luke/Reggie (JATP) | M | 2.1k | 1/1

“What the hell is that?” Alex demands. Act casual. Be natural.  “Yeah, Reg,” Luke smirks. Reggie’s blood runs cold. “What the hell did you do to me?” Alex rounds on him. “You did this?” “Did what?” comes Julie’s voice, and Reggie instinctively scans the studio for cover. Julie stops in the doorway, staring at Luke. “What the hell is that?”

officially diagnosed with adhd!!! | White House Trio (RWRB) | G | 200 | 1/1

A officially diagnosed with adhd!!!! irl chaos demon CONGRATS BUG Aw yay! We truly are related A what OR: In which June & Nora dunk on Alex in The White House Trio group chat after he receives his ADHD diagnosis

King of Your Heart | Willie/Alex (JATP) | M | 17.4k | 10/?

Willie’s life is constantly in motion, and he’s never wanted it any other way. He doesn’t know how he could function any other way. But right now he sees nothing but blue sea as he sits on his perch, and the endless nothingness is making him incredibly nauseated. - That is, until an enemy ship shows up and Willie finds himself stranded with the most annoyingly handsome guy he's ever met. OR: Romantic Willie/Alex with a side of platonic die-hard Willie/Bobby

Played It To The Beat | Julie & Alex, minor Willex (JATP) | G | 1.5k | 1/1

Julie has been desperately searching for songs to add to a playlist for what she’s been calling an anniversary party for Flynn, which isn’t for what Alex thought it was going to be.

[wr0temyway0ut]

did i just found out about Transmasc Carrie and need to know more about it so bad bc i never saw someone have that thought??

yes probably. Please. Just some crumbles.

Thank you for the ask! I can't say it was my idea, this fic was inspired by @skeletaltoad (I think that is Theo's tumblr username if not I am so sorry to the random person I just tagged)

But! The main conflict in it is that Carrie is really struggling with accepting that he's trans because he's built his career and image on being the leader of a girl group and being terrified that coming out will undo all of that. Here's another little snippet!

“Oh!” Luke’s eyes light up at the reminder of why he’s here. “Yeah, could I come in for a second? This is kinda awkward, but uh, I think I left my packer here last time I came and I, like, had a moment yesterday where I got all the way to the urinal before I remembered I didn’t have it and—” “You’re trans?” Carrie interrupts.  “Yeah?” Luke blinks. “You didn’t know that?” Before Carrie can stop it, a sob bursts from his throat. Not even a second later, the floodgates burst, and he has to bury his face in his hands to hide his weeping.  “Oh— oh shit,” Luke stammers. “Fuck, I— sorry. Please don’t cry. I don’t know what to do with girls crying.” “I’m not a girl!” Carrie wails, and while this is far from the ideal scenario in which to say that for the first time, it still feels like a weight lifted off his chest. “I’m a guy!”  “Oh?” Luke frowns, then his eyes light up in realization. “Oh! Oh, shit— I-I-I’m sorry, dude. Fuck. I still don’t know what to do when dudes cry. Do you— do you want a hug?”  “No I don’t want a fucking hug!” Carrie snaps.

[thedeathdeelers]

Oh that’s so cool, I love that!! Thanks for explaining!! Well then happy Juke Jeudi 🥰

aayyy glad you like it! no worries 🥰

happy juke jeudi! have a juke:

✨ soulmates ✨

[writerownstory]

how many times must I live through the disappointment of having a dream about JATP getting a season 2 only to wake up and realize it didn’t actually happen 😔