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@radzine: this is alf. there's nothing wrong with staying in your mother's basement for the weekend to de-stress.
jackhall1: @radzine I do not have a mother but i agree. My basement at home is a man cave with a reclining chair and foosball table :D
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domfmâ:
settling onto the sand beside jack, dominic held out one of the bottles he held in his hand. âhavenât got this much sun in ages,â he noted, squinting at the sun above the water. it felt nice. even more so that he was with his cousin, beer in hand. a simple thing, but at the moment, there was no place heâd rather be. âyou good, jack? like, with everything. feels like we havenât talked in forever. uh, congratsâŚwith gunner.â @jackhvllâ
Lolling his head to the side so he could watch Dom settle, Jack grinned up at him from behind a pair of sunglasses, gladly accepting the bottle. âYouâre going to burn. Sunscreenâs in my bag.â Because he liked to be prepared, habit maybe, taking care of his siblings for so long. âLooking good, though, Evans. Like a mereman.â He dropped his head back onto the ground, sure his hair was more sand than mullet by now and not finding it in him to care. âI wouldnât congratulate me yet. Still got ample time to mess everything up. You know how I can be.â He was gnawing at his lip like the thought made him nervous, so he waved the thought away with his beer. âYou and Ducky made up yet? I still havenât gotten to go to brunch. I feel like the group as a unit hates me. Hurts.â
#c. dom#LSKFMGLKSMFLG#this convo is so funny to me fr some reason....#jacks being so short nd clipped...#short sweet nd to the point!
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scigeâ:
( @jackhvllââ )
For a very long time, Saige had thought herself immune from crying. She hadnât cried often as a child - ingrained from a young age not to, that maybe something catastrophic would happen if she did; hurricanes and tsunamis, tornadoes and flash floods - all her doing, all by a slip of a tear. She outgrew it - the fear of causation and correlation, that her actions resulted in terrible things - knew that nothing bad would happen if a smile cracked, if she settled ( thereâd been a lingering fear of natural disasters, still - always in the back of her mind; she hid herself away from thunderstorms, still, on particularly bad days ) - still, still - the burning clump in her throat, the stinging in her eyes - itâd been embarrassing. Saige felt embarrassed, by it - her own emotion - held in so tightly as she walked up the path to the cottage; blinded by it, as she entered the doorway and took no more than two steps before colliding into a familiar chest - one hand coming to swipe at tears not yet fully formed and the other still clutching onto her beach towel for dear life ( sheâd been clothed, shorts and bikini top - but it was an anchor, almost, the white of her knuckles as she struggled to keep a grip on all that sheâd contained ), âSorry -â Saige swallowed down the red hot - ignoring the sting of salt water residue, âIâm like - um - Iâm, um -â thereâd been nothing to say - no excuses to come to mind, just a hand on Jackâs chest as she gently tried to push him away, farther from her so she could retreat to someplace alone, â - excuse me, um - please. Please.â
Crying was something else entirely to Jack Hall. He grew up in a house that fostered emotional expression, that would collapse under its own weight if it didnât. Even as he grew older, he remembered crying on the bus back from a particularly bad loss in a big game, sitting at the table with his dad on his momâs anniversary and being unable to hold back tears. Feeling the warmth in the emotion. Reveling in it. He felt like he knew exactly what to do, when Saige stepped into his grasp, when his mind registered that she was crying. It was always a violent reaction, at first, when someone he knew was hurting, like he needed somewhere else to put the hurt, someone to blame. âSaige? Who? Why?â he whispered into her ear, before she was pushing away, and he found himself reaching back for her wrist, another arm on her back, guiding her back into his chest. âLetâs go to my room. Itâs just down the hall. No one will be in there you can ..â Looking down at her, Jackâs chest caved in on itself. The anger faded, replaced by a terrible gnawing, sad, lonely. âPlease. At least until you stop crying.â
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gcnnerpaxtonâ:
Standing limply outside of the basement door of his cottage, currently booming with life due to the black-light rave, Gunner moved for the first time in however long when he heard the tell tale sign of the door opening behind him, âHey! Come here,â Reaching back to grab Jackâs hand, he pulled him in closer so that Gunner could guide his eye line towards the stars heâd been staring at, pointing excitedly, âTheyâre bright. Theyâre so bright tonight - the stars donât feel this bright in Lovell, I donât know why. What do you think?â he asked, finally turning to Jack properly for the first time since heâd stepped outside, âSorry. Kinda⌠overly enthusiastic. Tonightâs fun so far - this whole week was fun. Iâm just⌠basking in it. Still. Youâre having fun?â @jackhvllâ
Showing up to the party without first covering himself in paint had been a terrible game plan, apparently, as Jack had spent the last 30 minutes watching his body turn into a canvas by strangers who were less than enthused with his lack of costuming. Time lost that could have been better spent finding Gunner, which seemed like a near impossible task as he roamed the cabin aimlessly, not even sure what color paint he should be on the lookout for. Hope seemed lost before he managed to exit the basement, finding relief in the lack of bodies and the presence of one Gunner Paxton. âIâve been looking for you,â he smiled softly, letting Gunner drag him closer, his entire body feeling light. He hadnât had anything to drink, had barely even had anything to smoke, and felt a little like he was stepping into a dream. As Gunner pointed, he couldnât help but watch his face, how much it lit up, like when Jack was a child and his mother would weave bedtime stories for him. âI like the way you look at the stars. They look like this in Wyoming?â They didnât talk about Wyoming, but maybe things were different now. Jack felt like they could talk about anything. Pressing his hand to Gunnerâs cheek so he left a paint mark, Jack shrugged, though his smile gave him away. âOther than the fact that Iâve been avoiding your brother like my life depends on it every night, Iâd say itâs okay.â He kicked at Gunnerâs shoe, finally letting himself look at the stars heâd been directed to, pulling away from watching him. âBetter now. No interruptions. Thatâs a .. song. Donât quote me on that.â
#c. gunner#this reminds me of the siken quote thats like ..#he was pointing at the stars i was looking at his hand ....#looks away#dont talk to me
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knoxginaâ:
it wasnât exactly that sheâd been avoiding jack, mostly since sheâd had a lot of other things in her mind recently, but she had definitely done her best not to engage in conversation with him ever since their night together. it had not been one of her greatest ideas, for sure, and though she still didnât understand half of the drama she was currently dealing with, she was pretty convinced some of it had to be karma for that terrible, terrible decision. seeing him sat by the bonfire felt like a chance as good as any to try and make peace with it, so gathering some courage, she walked up to sit by him. âhey,â she said with a half smile. âthis seat taken?â @jackhvllâ
Jack was pretty sure that he had in the middle of a long winded speech about the necessity of leaving the past in your rearview, though when he paused for feedback, he found the spot next to him once occupied was indeed left empty. It was as he stared at this blank space on the log that he felt the shadow cast over him, blinking up at the person standing there like their presence was blinding. âGina!â he exclaimed, worried he had physically jolted with the shock. âNo itâs -- Are you --â Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face and wagged the other at the spot next to him. âItâs all yours. Iâm just .. Is this a good idea? Dom and I are only just .. You know. Making nice, as the ladies say.â
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milimsamuelsâ:
the beach was one of miliâs favorite places on earth. she hadnât had the chance to go as much as she would have liked to as a kid, but every time her dad had taken her had instantly turned into one of the best days of her life. the sun, the sand, the sea, she felt a deep connection with it all, and as soon as theyâd unpacked sheâd headed straight there, determined to find as many cute shells as she could to add to the bracelets sheâd been braiding on the bus later that day. she was just admiring a particularly nice one, holding it up to the light, when she noticed someone approaching her. âoh, hey,â she said with a grin, offering the shell to jack as she put her other hand over her eyes to block the sun. âwanna see it? itâs the most beautiful one iâve found this morning, but iâve found a lot of pretty ones, this beach is amazing.â @jackhvllâ
Jack felt particularly at home. His childhood was littered with day trips to Virginia Beach, a twin in each arm while his dad lugged the cooler. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and an airsoft football, coming home smelling like saltwater and finding sand in between his toes for weeks. While most of his peers could be found inside pregaming, Jack had taken to running along the shore, the exercise a much needed reprieve from his own cabin. He hadnât realized heâd been grinning until he came upon Mili, his smile only widening when he could make out what she was doing. âOh, hey,â he echoed, extending his palm so he could examine the shell. âMy sister has a huge collection back home,â he explained, turning the shell over in his hands. âSheâd be really impressed with this one. Seriously, she used to have me hunt with her for hours for something like this.â Holding his hand back out so Mili could reclaim her find, Jack brushed away the memory. He didnât need to be homesick. âHow long have you seen out here? I thought I was the only one who was properly taking advantage of this place.â
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Maybe it would be best for everyone if Jack and Leo started hanging out in the afternoon. That way their tendency for chaos and destruction could stop uncoiling into all night binges that resulted in waking up only half dressed, sharing the room with surprise guests. As Jack rolled over and slung his arm around the figure in bed with his, this was mostly what was going through his head. âYouâre cold,â he grunted, pushing at the object he assumed was either Leo or Gunner, Dom?, or some member of the house who had managed to clamber into bed with any combination of the aforementioned. It was only when he finally opened his eyes to inspect his bed guest that he jumped, so far into the air in fact that when he landed he hit his knee on a jutting elbow of the large beaver statue he had just been canoodling. âJesus!â a shout, before climbing on top of the statueâs round belly to address his partner in crime. âWhat the hell is this, man?â he asked, voice a few high octaves too high. âI feel like Nicholas Cage, stealing the Declaration of Independence, if it was like .. a cautionary tale about drug use.â Doing his best, he rolled the beaver over so Leo could be met with the same dead eyes he awoke to. @lcofowlerâÂ
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DM @leo_fowler: ya jack ur dming im very proud
DM @leo_fowler: i didnt actually sleep w him its just some Light Fun
DM @leo_fowler: but its a secret jst between us ok
DM @jackhall1: ohhhh okay I get your drift
DM @jackhall1: like just some heavy petting?
DM @jackhall1: I won't tell a soul :P
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@leo_fowler: felt this should come out before the trip :/ couldn't keep quiet about it anymore đ [image] [image] @blknox the jigs up bucko.................
DM @jackhall1: am I dming properly
DM @jackhall1: @leo_fowler Im tagging you so you see this
DM @jackhall1: Blake's pretty attractive man I can't believe you never told me???
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gcnnerpaxtonâ:
The point Jack made had Gunner flinching, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip with guilt. He was right, it was practically a quote right from Gunnerâs mouth - if he denied it now, itâd just be shitty of him. Gunner had done as much damage between them as Jack had, realistically, âYeah, I - I shouldnât have - I was mad, I didnât mean it,â Trying to get the words out only made Gunner realize how hard his brain had to work on making sentences coherent. Even after all the work heâd put in, he still couldnât get out what he wanted to say, âObviously I didnât mean it, I⌠caved pretty fucking easily,â There was an aggression to his words that wasnât aimed at Jack. Frustration made clear, it only worsened at Jackâs bland statement, showing in the incredulous look Gunner flashed him, âItâs not,â he insisted, grip on Jackâs shirt tightening, âThatâs such⌠a narrow minded way of viewing it. Itâs not, for some people. It wouldnât be for - for me, it wouldnât be. If it was - If we - It just⌠it wouldnât be just sex,â Even the way they held onto each other showed off their character, proved just how different they could be. With Gunner frozen still, rigid and clutching for dear life, like Jackâs hands werenât everywhere. Everywhere but still not enough - he didnât even know what would satiate him at this point, everything about their situation felt suffocating, overwhelming -, âJesus Christ,â It came out without Gunnerâs permission, his slowly building annoyance exploding all at once the longer their conversation went nowhere, âJust - God, come here,â Letting go of Jack finally, he grabbed at the otherâs hand this time, dragging them back towards the front door - like Gunner hadnât just pulled him outside, away from everyoneâs eyes. Almost whipping the door open into someoneâs face, he didnât even bother to stop and apologize when they shouted a What the fuck! at his back, tugging Jack along with all too familiar determination. Either more people had shown up to the party since theyâd been outside or it just felt that way, most of them laughing and shouting along to Britney Spears as she blared on the speakers. The gusto with which Gunner had dragged them there had dissipated slightly by now, âFuck,â he mumbled under his breath, then again when he turned to face Jack, and then once more when he gripped at him by the back of his neck, dragging him down to Gunnerâs level so he could press a kiss to his lips.
jack knew he had a hard time getting into anyone elseâs headspace. he could be selfish, painfully so, without fully realizing the consequences of peaceful obliviousness. this had hurt gunner more times than he would allow himself to consider, another selfish act on itâs own, bred from the same fatal flaw. jackâs world had somehow become all about jack, and he resented it. he didnât used to be that way, so worried about protecting himself that he lost sight of those around him. âi know that,â he tried to backtrack, but he felt like he was tripping over his own words, nothing coming out quite right. he cursed himself for not being a little smarter, a little more diplomatic, as good with words as his father was. as his mother had been. âi thought it went without saying --â he took a breath, felt like he was breathing gunner in as he did it, they were so close and it stabilized him in the same way it made gunner flinch. âi donât really do this? um. do .. feelings for people?â he felt like a child, and he was grateful his cheeks blushed from the shots and the high because he was feeling particularly hot with embarrassment. âso i think itâs scary for me. not like it is for you but. kind of.â a huff of frustration, he willed his feet to plant firmly in the ground. âi just meant that i feel a lot differently about you than i do anyone else. you .. i thought you knew that. this whole time. or else i wouldnât have--â he cut himself off, words lost to gunner grabbing his hand, to his feet moving before his mind could fully catch up to him. he felt hypnotized, like gunner was a magnet he would follow anywhere, and he wasnât sure how heâd managed to keep his distance for so long the whole night. âwatch where youâre standing,â jack managed to scoff, head turned back to call back to whoeverâd yelled at them, like defending gunnerâs honor was a reflex. heâd been fighting his battles for him for as long as theyâd known each other, even that first night, when someone had unintentionally smacked into gunnerâs camera and jack thought he might throw a punch. âi love this song,â jack smiled as he turned his head back, only to find gunner mirroring him. he felt a familiar tug in his gut, like he knew what was going to happen before it happened, but the kiss still caught him by surprise. he felt stiff at first, like he was taking all of gunnerâs fear and uncertainty and making it his own, but thankfully his lips knew how to react, and his eyes clamped shut to follow suit, and his hands found the small of his back theyâd been so fascinated with before. it knocked the wind out of him, and his feet felt cold, like all his blood had rushed to his head. it was a weightless feeling, before he managed to pull away, to cup gunnerâs jaw with one hand, eyes darting. âyou realize how many people saw that?â he asked, breathless, words coming out like a gasp before a wide grin spread across his lips. âdo it again.â
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milesaldnâ:
âI do, but that has nothing to do with this situation considering I donât hate you. You make me sound like a jealous freak,â Miles argued, though he understood where Jack was coming from. Sometimes he was a jealous freak. He couldnât help it. Sometimes he felt like as soon as he latched onto someone, he owned them in some right. It was an unfortunate flaw. âI got banned because Freya is a troll and Lanaâs a follower. Donât twist the story.â Weaving his way out of someoneâs backyard and approaching his own, he shook his head. âBesides, Iâm not really in need of a forced pairing. Feels kinda dated, no? Didnât even get to make a preference.â
jack just smiled in response, finding it easier to leave milesâ words hanging, to not acknowledge the depth behind them. they were getting along, and he clung to it, like he needed friendship to breathe. âthere history there?â he asked, ears turning red instantly at the conflict. he disagreed, but he wasnât willing to start something over it. âiâve always found them charming.â jack threw open milesâ back door before the other could reach for it, crossing into a house that felt much more lived in than his own, warmer, somehow. maybe that came with having a family as large as the aldenâs. jack found himself longing for it. âtheyâre kind of incredible matchmakers, in my humble opinion.â and maybe he was rubbing it in, just a little, that heâd been paired with gunner.
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gcnnerpaxtonâ:
âNo oneâs always happy,â As he said it, Gunnerâs voice dipped to an almost inaudible level. Like it was wrong for him to contradict Jack as he lived in his own version of ignorant bliss, guilty of showing him reality. But it was the truth. Heâd never been someone who was capable of pretending everything was alright when it wasnât, masking dread with smiles and well wishes. Especially now, the furrow of his brows deepened, his frown wobbling. Even with Jackâs hands finding their way back to his side again, like they were magnetized, like Gunner hadnât just pulled them away so that he could get through one cohesive thought. He was feeling suddenly trapped, like the otherâs words had come to life and tossed him into a confined space, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and their gut-punching meaning, âThatâs not -,â he started, tried to, shaky hands coming up to cup over his face, hide his pained expression. Gunner could feel his throat clenching, the same emotions heâd always tried to suppress with Jack bursting forward at once and suffocating him, âYouâre not being fair,â It almost sounded like Gunner was whining childishly, the same way he always did when he struggled to get his words across or contain himself. Containing himself with Jack had always been nearly impossible. Swallowing harshly, Gunner had to remind himself this was⌠different. It felt different. He wanted it to be different, instead of reverting back to the way he used to hide, scared, when Jack made things feel just that much more real with them. This felt like a breaking point, like a now or never situation, âI know⌠that you had to leave for your family,â Gunner hadnât even realized heâd been holding his breath, words coming out in a panted exhale. He lowered his hands finally, so that they could clutch at the hemline of Jackâs shirt, fingers dipping into the holes of mesh - grasping at him for stability, the same way heâd needed to that day on the track field, âbut when you came back and slept with - what happened with Saige made everything feel like. I thought itâd just been⌠a game. I donât know if it was - I donât know. Some stupid, shitty self destructive bullshit, but that. Sucked. I was mad at you, I was⌠really, really mad,â Gunner let himself be pulled forward without protest. For as much as his mind was racing, heâd never felt more clarity in his life - his eyes were clear and his words were poignant when he said, âI would choose you. Still. And it always made me mad because I was scared and I just wanted you to choose me. Only me,â Is there something Iâm not seeing? If Gunner hadnât made it obvious at this point, he had to now. His hands were still shaking, fingers brushing against the bare skin of Jackâs torso with each tremble, but he did his best to make his voice steady, âYes,â Shaky, just as bad as his hands, âYou are⌠clearly. Not seeing something - You⌠Do I have to say it? I canât - I donât know how to spell this out for you. But obviously. Youâre not seeing the big picture if you donât know. How I feel.â
âalls fair in love and war,â jack echoed, and he remembered saying it once, to his ex back in high school, when sheâd confronted him in the cafeteria. after heâd cheated on her with his running back, and it had been a scandal and it had broken her heart and he hadnât been able to find it in him to care. it sounded different this time, though maybe still equally as bitter, staring at gunner and looking too much like a puppy that had been kicked. the worst part was that he knew it wasnât fair, knew guilt would get him no where. âbut you asked,â he mumbled, words muffled by gunnerâs hands suddenly on him, feeling their heart like it was his whole center. âyou told me not to talk to you anymore,â jack croaked, but the guilt he felt about it all was suffocating him again. âsex is just sex,â but everything he was saying felt too much like an excuse, so he shut himself up, hands roaming again, on his hips, on his stomach, where they pressed gently at the exposed skin. âi know iâm not the smartest guy alive,â he managed, but it came out like a pant because their hands had found each otherâs skin and it would have been a lot for jack in any state, but he was so drunk, and he was so high, and it felt like all the other times all over again. âbut iâd like to think i know you well enough to --â his own hands felt like claws, âsay i kiss you,â barely managed, because he wasnât used to being so careful, even around gunner. âsay i kissed you right here. anyone could walk out and see. what would you do?â they were close enough, he could have leaned forward and closed the distance. he wasnât sure what kept him from doing it, his pride or his anticipation to hear a response, but he settled for breathing there, into him, like it was enough anymore. âyou know iâm not good for you. surely youâve figured that out by now.â but he didnât move.
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gcnnerpaxtonâ:
The moment they were outside, Gunner wished heâd thought to grab water - or something to drink, at least. The pill heâd been given a while ago had finally started to make an appearance about half an hour ago, probably what had made him bold enough to demand Jack talk to him in the first place, and his mouth had never felt drier. Not that Jackâs words helped, anyway. Gunner could have chugged a whole gallon of water, and his mouth would have instantly dried at the otherâs insistence, âYou donât -,â he started, immediately halting when Jackâs hand came to toy with the material of his shirt, before trying all over again, âBut you wonât⌠youâre barely even acknowledging me. You wonât look at me,â Trying to catch Jackâs eyes now, where he was still dodging eye contact and staring intently at Gunnerâs shoulder instead, like it was the most interesting thing in the world, âand I had to force you out here to talk to me, I - I donât get it. Is it - Whatâs making you so happy if you wonât even -,â Feeling Jackâs hands start to wander made Gunnerâs brain short circuit. His mouth still hung open, making it obvious he wanted to say more, but heâd never been too good at thinking when Jackâs hands were on him. Gunner used to think it was a bad thing, the way he could barely function with just a simple touch from him, just from a look, sometimes - now, it was making him even more reckless. It made him want to see just how mindless he could get if Jack put his hands somewhere else, âIâm not asking about everyone else,â Moving sharply, Gunner was suddenly grabbing at where Jackâs hands were resting on his sides, goosebumps raised on his arms from the touch. It was making his brain soupy, incapable of even forming a proper sentence at this point, âJust - I canât⌠think. When you do that. I need to think,â he insisted, breaths coming in staccato pants. It was reminiscent of the same way heâd been breathing when heâd panicked in front of Jack on the track field, but he didnât feel panicked this time. His heart hammered the same way, but the twist of his stomach was entirely different. There was no sharp pain, a stabbing guilt that made him feel like the world was about to collapse around him, âIâm not. Iâm not - youâre oblivious,â he huffed back childishly, staring up at Jack with wide eyes, pupils that matched, âYou wouldnât talk to me. You couldnât get away from me fast enough, when we got to the pre. Are you really happy? Actually? Because Iâm not. You wouldnât talk to me - you wouldnât look at me. And youâre bringing up everyone else like I care. If I cared about everyone else Iâd still be inside. I think youâre oblivious.â
jackâs hands stilled with gunnerâs own around them. he could have kept dragging them, mapping areas of his torso heâd never paid much mind to before, like the jut of his hip bones or the line of his sternum, would have been completely content to stand like that for the rest of the night. it was quiet, and he had gunner to himself, and his eyes were so warm, his entire face so warm. but he felt a jolt of shame the moment gunner started questioning him. he knew heâd messed up, had suspected it before but really knew it then, and it was all a bit embarrassing, being told off like a child. âiâm always happy,â he tried to add, like a correction, even though it wasnât true, not even close, and the real truth of the matter was that he was always fighting off misery like it was nipping at his heels. his past, his present, his future. jack wasnât sure of any of it, and it ate away at his confidence until he felt like unfolding at gunnerâs feet, begging for him to understand what he wanted to say so he didnât have to be out with it. âiâm happy because i got to come to this with you, even if you wouldnât have chosen me,â he started, hands gripping his sides a little firmer, pushing a little closer. like this had lit a fire under him. âbut how fair is that? we both know you wouldnât have said yes if i had asked. so iâve given you space. all the space you could want. i wonât -- youâve made it clear this isnât what i want it to be,â and he tried not to sound torn up about it, like it didnât still his rabbiting heart. âevery time i push, you run away. iâve never been rejected so much in my life and i still ..â he sighed, shaking off gunnerâs hands over his own, pressing them into the small of his back. â -- so iâm happy, because i can pretend this is something that itâs not. for a night.â he didnât dip his head, even though he wanted to, avert his gaze because he was scared what he would find there. he would be a man. his nostrils flared a bit at the thought. âis there something iâm not seeing?â he felt like if he pressed any closer, heâd be on top of him. his mind should have been swimming, but it was silent. he held his breath.
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gcnnerpaxtonâ:
Growing up, Gunner had spent a lot of his time either being avoided or feeling ignored. Itâd become something he merely shrugged off, incapable of caring about it after a certain point, but something about Jack going out of his way to avoid conversation with Gunner didnât sit right with him. From when the other insisted on blaring music in their car instead of talking to him, to all but running away both at the pre and now at the party, itâd gotten to the point where Gunner couldnât pretend it wasnât happening anymore, âCome here!â If there hadnât been music blaring, Gunner wouldâve muttered it under his breath, but he didnât have a choice but to yell. Grabbing Jackâs wrist, he yanked the other away from their conversation - if there were any protests, he didnât hear them - only stopping once he all but shoved him outside Paquin so they could properly hear each other, âWhatâs your problem? Are you mad at me? You - I mean, I thought - we were just getting good again, now you wonât even look at me. Whatâd I do?â @jackhvllâ
jack felt like he was practically unravelling at the seams. the night was supposed to be a pleasant one, a real date with gunner, set up for him barring him from actually having to go through the pressure of asking him himself. there were few things jack was afraid of more than rejection, stemming from some desperate, innate need to be accepted, to be liked. this made him particularly terrified of gunner, especially as the night dragged on and he found himself doing everything in his power to avoid messing anything up. the less he spoke to him, he had figured out, the greater the chance would be that he wouldnât do anything to ruin this. he was engrossed in a particularly dull conversation with one of the men working as party security when gunner grabbed him, seemingly chiding him publicly. âduty calls!â he offered as an explanation, smiling charmingly despite the racketing heart beat in his chest. the night air chilled him immediately, and despite the high that seemed to grow as each hour of the night passed on, and the shots heâd been taking to ease his nerves, he still felt rigid, tense, standing in from of gunner. âmy problem?â he was nearly stuttering, his mouth running faster than his brain, and that was usually a terrible sign. he found himself fingering the mesh on gunnerâs shoulder, enchanted by it and possibly looking for any excuse to avoid eye contact. âiâm happy. iâm so happy, i donât --â but he knew he didnât sound particularly happy, and he still wasnât looking properly at him. jack had a knack for doing this, for messing up anything good. it was one of the main reasons he tried to distance himself from gunner, was always messing things up to buy himself a little time. what was he waiting for? his hands wandered to gunnerâs shoulder blades, where they protruded, all of him looking particularly exposed. heâd seen him in less, but heâd always pointedly averted his eyes. he was certainly looking now. âiâve been looking at you all night,â he scoffed, a pinch of disappointment. âsame as everyone else.â he wished he didnât sound bitter, because his hands were still picking at the mesh, grazing somewhere near his sides now. his mouth twisted into an unreadable line, his eyes a little glazed from the high, when he looked up. âyouâre so oblivious, paxton.â
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orange fingerprints , remnants of a heavy spray tan the night before . whose lips are those , that splatter across your torso like birthmarks  ?  youâre all retro chic , with hair that falls in loose curls , a mullet that frames a square jaw . high top chuck taylors a size too  small ; it seems youâre always out growing things . you wear your HEART on your eyes , painted there so you can look at him the way youâve always wanted to . an old scrimmage pinny , purple and mesh and this too is too small , cut unevenly . i thought your hands never shook . contoured cheek bones , highlight on your biceps . thereâs something  holographic  about you , you shift under watchful eyes . what is your  game , here , qb1 ?Â
#radedit#aesthetics.#musings.#there were no aesthetic pics of his mesh ..#so heres his face ig ...#sighs
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gcnnerpaxtonâ:
Glancing at their surroundings, Gunner let himself smile - a real one, too, something amused as he watched everyone break off. He even waved shyly at some guy whoâd approached them earlier in the night, mistaking Gunner for a friend of his little brotherâs. It was small, but it was one of the almost unnoticeable differences thatâd happened, Gunner needing to be his own person when he didnât have Jack around to direct conversations for him, âYeah theyâre, uh, theyâre really coming in hoards, Jack,â An homage to the way Gunner used to feel whenever even so little as one person would cut into their time. Thatâs what itâd used to feel like - like there was time where he just existed and then there was time with Jack. Itâd been something heâd been ignorant to, but no matter how often itâd happened, itâd always felt like a criminal offence. Jackâs words felt like a challenge. Surely, it hadnât been that long since theyâve been back together like this properly, Gunner hadnât changed that much. His hesitant nature was still there, but he was scoffing anyway, glancing at Jack out of his peripheral vision. Cupping hands around his mouth, Gunner tossed his head back and let out a howl, like he was a wolf crying to the moon. It didnât last long - someone across the street was immediately shouting at him to shut up, obviously startled by the sudden shout, âFuck, shit, sorry - sorry!â he called back to them, which only earned him a middle finger in response, âJesus. Maybe I should just leave it to you. I donât have your charm, canât⌠apologize my way out of situations like this,â It wasnât a jab, or at least it wasnât meant to be one, but as soon as Gunner said it, he realized he fell into that category. One of the people Jack batted his lashes at, paired with soothing words that eventually coaxed forgiveness out of someone like alcohol did to a personâs deepest secrets. If anything, Gunner was the biggest sucker of them all. He didnât even have it in him to pretend like he was still bothered in any way, beers making him languid and warm around the other, âYou want one?â Gunner repeated, giving Jack an incredulous look that was paired with a smile that made his expression of disbelief all the more obvious, âThey require a lot of attention, you know. Youâre not allowed to get bored of them in a week,â he teased, though Gunner had never known Jack to tire of the things he cared about in the slightest, âAnd Iâm not a runt,â With a slight stumble, Gunner spun so that he was walking backwards in front of Jack now, up on his tiptoes, âIâm getting taller. I was just a late bloomer. Seriously. Give me a few more months, Iâm going to be taller than you,â The eye contact seemed important in his mind, to really prove his point and drive it home. And it was easier, now, up on his toes and hovering at Jackâs height - but after a few seconds, itâd gotten predictably overwhelming. Wordlessly, Gunner dropped back to his normal height, ducking his head like heâd just witnessed something he wasnât supposed to, âCan I have my key?â he asked, holding his hand out. Itâd been something heâd always done - somehow, Gunner was always losing his things, and Jack was always finding them. Itâd eventually just gotten easier to shove things that were important into the otherâs pockets, and at some point, Gunner had automatically done it at the party, tiring of checking his pockets every five minutes, paranoid.
looking at gunner now, jack found it hard to place him as the guy heâd met at the party carrying around a camera. that gunner had stuck to the walls, had been completely content with letting everyone else have the fun, with watching it. the person heâd come to know over the couple of years -- had it already been that long? -- was the center of everything, at least to him. he could walk into a room and vacuum out all the air, like he was stealing it right out of jackâs lungs, and maybe that wasnât an image he should allow himself to think on for too long. not when he was this intoxicated, uninhibited. he was always being careful around gunner, after the first kiss and the second and the time away, the time heâd spent making up for it, every blow added a wall between them. he hadnât found the confidence to chip away at it again. maybe jack wasnât the person everyone thought he was. jack let himself join in the howl, feeling like a proper pack, a shout of a laugh that rumbled in his chest escaping him when heâd finished. his eyes looked crazed, happy, feral. he hadnât even heard the voice that had shouted back at gunner, and if he had he probably would have told them to eat it. âyou could do the same, you know. people like you way more than you think they do. a lot of people.â he shouldered gunner, because it felt more like a confessional than an off handed compliment, and maybe he wanted him to know that. âpretty sure youâre lovellâs finest now, anyway. maybe iâve taught you too well.â it sounded like an insult, the way he said it, like bile rising in his throat. he was supposed to be happy. âi want one. i donât know how cats work or anything. iâd need someone to teach me what to do.â at once he felt too close to gunner and not close enough, nearly frozen as they stared at each other, level. he was thankful when gunner dropped back down, unsure what he would have done if he hadnât. he still had that overwhelming feeling that he was only good at ruining things. he fished into his pocket wordlessly, staring at gunner like theyâd both been let in on a secret. the keys came out in his fist, along with a gum wrapper and an old fortune from the chinese heâd ordered. âquestions provide the key to unlocking our unlimited potential.â he hated himself a little bit, for not being smart enough to know what to ask. âthey might be kind of damp. i was dancing a lot. sweat,â shrugging to accompany the not quite apology. âiâm still really sorry, by the way.â a real apology, but vague, like he wasnât even sure what he was sorry for, that there was too much heâd done to pin any one betrayal down. just that he  knew he was. and that he wanted gunner to hear it. âi think itâs pretty cool youâre still hanging out with me. and stuff.â
#c. gunner#simply cannot#proofread..#nd yes i did use a fortune cookie generator fr this#clicking away until i found a good one..#method acting
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