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[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

dominicmorris:

jasper’s laughter brought about a small smile on dom’s face, just the corners of his mouth twitching into something less awkward and actually genuine. for a brief moment, the nostalgic thought seemed to have dissipated any awkwardness between them, “yeah they did. i guess that was the bonus of being the youngest.” there were a million and one memories that dom could name off the top of his head of him and jasper in the neighbourhood, usually accompanied by his brothers or jasper’s sister. occasionally they resurfaced when he’d pass one of their childhood ‘spots’ or when he’d pass pictures on the mantlepiece of the two boys, with their toothless grins and multiple scrapes and bruises. “it adds to your image.” he agreed as the conversation slowly seemed to circle back around to jasper’s newest fashion look. though, in all honesty, he wasn’t sure what jasper’s “image” was anymore. even with a gun to his head, dom was sure that he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint any personality trait of jasper’s, except very very sarcastic. at the mention of estates and contract law, dom grimaced. “i couldn’t think of anything more dull,” he responded dryly “i want to go into civil law. if someone wants to sue their doctors for malpractice, i’ll be the one to do it.” 

“That and me cumulatively breaking every bone in my body at some point or another. That was another bonus. Youngest and smallest. It’s like I won the lottery or something.” But he was smiling, because they both knew--or had once known--that Jasper had idolized Dom and his brothers, and roughhousing with them had meant everything to him as a kid, even if it meant collecting some pretty nasty scrapes and bruises and broken bones. Things were easy when you were little. You didn’t have to worry about conversation, about senses of humor and college and jobs and not sounding like an idiot. You didn’t have to worry because you were a fucking kid and all you wanted was someone to bike downtown and get ice cream with. Not like now, when every word had to be thought-out, when topics of conversation had to be scraped from the bottom of a barrel and served cold. "Ahh, so you’re gonna be Saul Goodman,” Jasper said, grinning again, genuinely amused by the picture he’d created. “Cool, I can call you up when I need to sue my first plastic-surgery doctor.”

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

stellcn:

Stellan grabbed the joint that was handed to him, taking a puff, inhaling smoke before exhaling, and repeating the process three times before handing it back to Jasper. “Honestly? None. I mean, money buys everything, even people’s cooperation.” Stellan stated with a small chuckle. It was true. A countless number of times, money has gotten him out of some sticky situations he probably wouldn’t have gotten out of if he was poor, like that one time he got caught with an 8 ball on him. All he did was write the cop a check and bam, he was good to go. He knows it’s bad, selfish even, relying on an object, but as long as he has it, he might as well put it to use. “Trust me, I would know.” He confirmed, grabbing his phone and going to Youtube. “It’s too quiet here.” He said, before putting on ‘Bennie and the jets’ by Elton John. It was such a damn classic, he loved the beat of it. “The 70’s must have been a great time to live.” He added, going inside and pulling out an 8 ball. On the table, he began breaking up the cocaine, since it was in rock form. It took about two minutes, but when he was done, he took out another 8 ball and did the same, then another, and with his debit card, he began making lines. Then, he got an idea. Making sure the other was still outside, he began railing lines and spelled Jasper’s first name, then his last, until he had Jasper’s full name spelled on the table with cocaine. “I did something semi romantic.” He told the other, taking a picture of it with his polaroid. Wow, that would be a memory. He obviously wasn’t going to do the entire thing, that was three eight balls and he didn’t want to die, but he thought it was a nice aesthetic. “She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit, you know I read it in a magazine, oh!” Stellan sang, shaking his head to the beat as he grabbed a hundred dollar bill, rolling it up. “You should let me do some off your thighs, shit would be hot as fuck.” Getting up, he walked towards the patio where Jasper was at. “Just smoke inside. We won’t get in trouble, I promise.” He said, shooting the other a smile. “I mean, unless you’re scared.” He added jokingly, teasing him. He liked the fact that Jasper was witty, that despite the fact that Stellan could turn his cheeks a bright tomato red, he still always had something to say. All these things he felt for Jasper, he always pushed to the back of his mind, because he honestly didn’t do feelings, didn’t do love, and it’s not like Jasper even likes him. Stellan is fully aware that no one could ever like a cokehead. Sure, maybe he likes the sex, but liking him as a person is totally different.

“Money talks and bullshit walks,” Jasper recited almost dreamily, puffing away at the joint as he gazed out over the view afforded them by the room’s height. The night air felt deliciously cool on his skin, overheated thanks to the brief but intimate interaction with Stellan. “My grandpa used to say that.” He smiled, took another drag. Below, he could just make out other guests milling around the outdoor pool. “I think he was onto something.” Even when Stellan retreated back inside--likely to start cutting lines--Jasper remained out on the balcony, too transfixed by the way it felt out there. Sometimes the fact of his looming adulthood--something he generally avoided--hit him unexpectedly and profoundly. Here he was at a five-star hotel with a boy he frequently slept with but wouldn’t date, for whom he had some major feelings to which he would never admit out loud, who was addicted to cocaine the way you read about in Rolling Stone magazine, and god, neither of them were even twenty-one, but it sure as shit didn’t get more adult than this, did it? It seemed impossible his parents were less than half an hour away--seemed, in fact, strange that they should be within distance of anything they knew at all. But that was the way it felt being with Stellan, the way it had always felt, and perhaps the reason Jasper still found himself so thoroughly infatuated every time he came back home. Because it was like they left the real world and created their own, like it was just them and the Pacific Coast Highway and whatever luxury Stellan’s money could buy. He finally came back to himself when he heard Stellan say the word “romantic” from inside, shaking his head as if to clear it and turning to him with a coy smile. “I’m not scared,” he teased, lightly shoving Stellan back inside and following this time. He opened his mouth to ask what the “semi-romantic” thing had been, but he saw it before the question could come out and froze with his mouth half-open. A shiver touched his spine and he swallowed, struck by both the immediacy and the intensity of his dueling emotions. His first thought, of course was that Stellan couldn’t possibly do that much coke, not at once, he’d die. His second thought was much more shameful, and it brought with it a deep shade of red onto his face. “You’re sick,” he said softly--reverently, even--and turned to look at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “Do you know that?” And the idea of Stellan doing it off his thigh? He wanted to be able to say no, to tell him to get rid of all that, but what he ended up doing instead was popping the button on his jeans and going to sit at the end of the bed. “I hope you’re not thinking of doing all of that tonight.”

light me up // stellan & jasper

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

lorencs:

･˙˖  ✧  — feign astonishment became present over her countenance at the onset of affection, her manicured nails lightly dug into his arms, like a reassurance he was in front of her, had not deciphered any leniency since his arrival. shaking her head in utter belief herself, as her darkened curls came in waves & her slow blinks equating her many INQUIRIES as to how she was handed the short stick her first step back into her hometown, newport. his words were sorely missed, when the nights seemed to get the best of her & the mornings, not any better; she tried to steady herself to impression other’s, above all. she often avoided all public transportation, an unspoken fear of her’s since the event & well, she felt rather comfortable to say the least in jasper’s care. “ — & mimosas ? it’s morning somewhere. ” she quipped, cutting the cord that kept her countenance lined in a fine schedule as she grinned ear to ear & her chin, touching her sun-kissed shoulder.

“Even if it wasn’t morning somewhere,” Jasper said, pulling out his phone and opening up his Uber app. “Nobody tells me when I can or cannot drink a mimosa. So yes to that.” In no time at all he had ordered one up, and within five minutes their driver pulled up. Useless as he would have been at helping to load the luggage into the back with his arms the size of noodles, he let the driver take care of it, sliding into the back and vehemently ignoring the sudden, fiendish desire for a cigarette. “So tell me,” he said once Lorena had gotten in beside him and they’d begun moving. “How was the rest of your semester? I aced that chemistry exam, thanks entirely to you. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Aced. I got an A on it. You should teach is what you should do, you know.”

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

🌻

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

fmk anyone in newport

“Anyone in Newport? God, I don’t know...I guess I’d let Bengi hatefuck me after he’s good and pissed off, but then I’d also kill him. Because I hate him and because no one could ever know what had happened. So him for both. And since there’s nobody I’d actually marry around here besides Stellan, I guess I’d wife up my girls. Olive, Ava, Lorena. Any of them.”

@benlapointe @stellcn @olivcxt @avcrnas @lorencs

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

why are you with a junkie like stellan?? you're so much better than that

“I mean, thank you, I guess. I’m not with Stellan, though. Neither of us is trying to do the boyfriend thing. Especially him. And even if I was, I couldn’t date somebody who does drugs the way he does. He knows that. 

And for the record, he’s not just a junkie. It’s just that most people don’t get to see the other stuff.”

@stellcn

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

why are people STILL trying to make you their token gay friend? you're so much better than a purse bitch

“I don’t know, because I’m the wet dream of every straight white girl with aspirations of being a hag? Believe me, I’m nobody’s purse.”

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

do you think you overreacted about jesse coming back?

“I think that some relationships are really important and symbolic in a person’s life, and it’s my prerogative to be upset if that’s what I'm feeling. Jesse was the first person who ever stood up for me when I was fresh out of the closet and getting bullied like hell. He showed up like some kind of hillbilly fucking Superman and kicked their asses, and he looked out for me the whole time we were in school together. I didn’t have anybody else like that. So no, I don’t think I overreacted.”

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

☯️

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

fionaxivan:

“Now, that’s fucking depressing dude.” She said. She bumped his shoulder back with her own. “Of course, we are dumbass. I’ve known we were too good for this shit since we were kids.” A light buzz was settling in, and she enjoyed the feeling of it coursing through her veins. She laughed at his question. “I wish. Though, I have spotted a couple people sporting some particularly tight chaps. I’m sure if you come to town we can scour up something for you.” She followed him out to the patio. “Can I bum a light off of you?’ She asked, producing her carton of cigarettes from her bag. Looking around at the familiar surroundings, she felt a deep sense of home, even though that feelings hadn’t always been a positive one. The wind moved through the palm trees and resulted her hair, blowing wisps of it in her face. She brushed pieces of it behind her ear. “Me too,” she said, twirling a cigarette in her hand. She shrugged. “I guess it depends on where I get into medical school. You?”

“It is, isn’t it? I’m woefully under-appreciated.” This was dramatic to the extreme and they both knew it, but it didn’t stop Jasper from saying so through a coy little grin. “I can dig tight chaps. As long as their arms are the size of my head, I can dig anything.” Pulling his lighter back out, he tossed it to Fiona across the table and went for another drag off his cigarette. “God, you’re fucking insane,” he laughed, pressing his palms into his eyes as if just the idea of medical school was enough to give him a throbbing headache. “I’ll probably come back to Cali, though, yeah. I mean, not here. Not Newport. But maybe LA or San Francisco. Eventually, though, I’m gonna be in New York. That’s where I need to be if I’m gonna achieve my dream of a big Manhattan art show, anyway.” He let out a hefty sigh and leaned back in his chair, tapping some ash off the cigarette. “That’s really all the way across the country, though, huh? Talk about missing my mom.”

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

stellcn

Grabbing a Gucci bag from under the seat, he swung it over his shoulder and put the helmet where he had gotten the bag from. “I mean, I just wanna give you the best. Because you’re honestly great, and you deserve to be spoiled.” He informed Jasper, smiling softly as their fingers intertwined, and both of them walked towards the front desk. Stellan had already made a reservation, so all he did was give his name, show some ID, and everything was set. Giving the lady at the desk a polite nod, he grabbed the card from her and made his way towards the elevators, where surely enough, a man with a uniform stood. “Room card, sir?” The brunette handed it over to him, and it was inserted into the elevator, suite 227 on the twentieth floor. “Maybe, and I’ll be there cheering you on in the background. Shit, who knows, maybe one day I’ll be the next Romero Britto, God, that guys a legend.” Stellan said, stepping into the elevator. The elevator reeked of fine leather and velvet, something Stellan was accustomed to, but never quite liked or enjoyed. He was more than thankful when they got to the room, because he just wanted to spend some alone time with Jasper, talk about stupid little things, get high as hell. Setting his bag down on a leather covered chair, he opened the door to the large patio, the cool California breeze running past his face. Going back to his bag, he pulled out a cigarette box, which contained no more than twenty pre-rolled joints. Handing one to Jasper, he pushed a strand of his hair out of his face, and tugged the joint behind his ear. He looked so small and soft, delicate, fragile even, and Stellan just enjoyed looking at the other, for crying out loud. He looked at his outfit from head to toe, and he liked the way Jasper dressed because he never tried too hard, or didn’t try at all, but he always put a normal amount of effort into the way he dressed, something Stellan appreciated because he didn’t like it when someone he was seeing tried too much. He had money and he dressed normally, he just lived an extravagant lifestyle. Taking a step closer to him, one hand goes to the hem of his shirt, while the other goes around his petite waist, hazel eyes boring into Jasper’s oceanic blue ones. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He said, almost breathlessly, honestly taken back by how nice he looked tonight. Then, with a sly smirk, he said, “I hope you know that by the end of the night your clothes are coming off.”

The name Romero Britto brought a smile to Jasper’s face. He loved the juxtaposition of something so vividly, vibrantly colorful against the darkness that Stellan usually emanated like a black cloud always threatening rain. He stepped into the elevator after him with his eyes stuck on Stellan’s face, momentarily transfixed by this image, warmed by it from his head down to his toes. Times like these--when they were so utterly alone among strangers, far out of reach of town and everyone they knew--Jasper often noticed his inhibitions dissolving like salt in hot water, and it left him vulnerable to his emotions. He would start doing things like this, staring, grinning like an imbecile, and he sometimes worried that soon he would get sloppy and reach for Stellan’s hand, or worse. And he didn’t even like to imagine what worse could be. Inside the room, Jasper was instantly drawn to the view out on the patio when Stellan opened the door. He went like a moth to the proverbial flame, bending over the railing far enough to induce a dizzying sense of vertigo that he enjoyed tremendously. “This is unreal,” he said, as much to himself as to Stellan. The light breeze played with the loose strands of his curly hair and the nostalgic smell of the ocean came with it, like a lover’s caress on his skin. His parents had money, but they had never taken Jasper and his sister to five-star hotels. They had taken them to modest Bed-and-Breakfasts in northern Italy and sprawling villas in the French countryside. Goose bumps rocketed across his arms and back the moment he felt Stellan’s hands on his skin, fluttering teasingly beneath the hem of his shirt, and he looked up at him with what he knew must have been a completely naked expression of adoration. The words made his gut clench with arousal, a deep shade of pink spreading over the apples of his cheeks. “I know,” he said cheekily, eyes dropping to Stellan’s lips for a moment before he pulled impishly away. “That I’m beautiful and that my clothes will be coming off, I mean.” Finding no lighter in his own pockets, he went back inside and snatched the complimentary matchbook off the table to light the joint he’d been handed. It was perhaps reckless to smoke it inside the room, but then, he was relatively confident Stellan could talk himself out of any situation in which they found themselves. Consequences never seemed to stick to him. He took several deep drags and went back out to the patio, handing the joint over and plucking a cigarette from behind his ear. “How much trouble do you think we’d get in if you fucked me out here and someone saw us?”

light me up // stellan & jasper

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

I just saw a kid yell ‘fuck off’ at the top of his lungs and then his phone started ringing so he picked it up like 2 fucking milliseconds after it started ringing and said “hi mama” in the softest god damn voice I’ve ever heard

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

@dominicmorris

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

dominicmorris:

it was a strange, comparing the jasper that was standing in front of him with the one he knew so many years ago, but dominic couldn’t help himself. there were similarities- mostly in physical appearance, like the way jasper still looked 10x smaller than him despite being almost the same height. but there were also glaringly obvious differences. as a 10 year old, he wouldn’t have thought he’d be 22 and watching jasper smoke, or seeing him with bleach-blonde hair after avoiding him for a year. there were other oddities too, such as finding a discussion about his older brother easier than holding one about anything else. or hearing that indie was engaged. “that ages us, i guess,” he mused out loud, “it’s hard to imagine her at 23 and engaged. it still kinda feels like her and elijah should be holding their wedding in my backyard and forcing us to attend with bows taped to our necks in the place of actual ties,” he paused, clearing his throat as he brushed off his brief relapse into nostalgia. there were plenty of embarrassing moments he could still remember from childhood that only seemed to pop up when he came face to face with his 8 year old partner in crime. he leaned back against his brother’s car, turning his gaze away from jasper and towards the basketball that was rolling back and fourth in a dip in the grass. “it’s a good look,” he offered politely when jasper drew his attention to his hair. “like it suits you and the whole…” he gestured vaguely, “yano. dramatic art kid thing. maybe it helped in the upgrade from your fridge to an actual art show.” when asked about university, he shrugged, “MSU. it’s not bad there, though it’s honestly just a stepping stone to pre-law and then law school. they offered me a bunch of scholarships.” 

A burst of laughter took Jasper by surprise at the sudden, vivid memory of a muggy summer day spent in Dom’s backyard, Indie--the only girl in the bunch--wearing her favorite dress, the one from her Cinderella costume the previous Halloween. Jasper and Dom with big bows fastened to their necks, the captive audience of the proceedings, giggling madly every time Indie wasn’t looking. Their ten- and eight-year-old selves would have rather been off exploring, surely, but it was an achingly nostalgic memory all the same, and one that filled Jasper with a lovely sense of melancholy about the passage of time. “They really liked torturing us,” he said, still smiling, and had to put off taking a drag because another genuine laugh bubbled out of him. The moment was poignant with its lack of pressure, lack of anxiety, but it only lasted a few moments before it began to fade again. When Dom looked away, Jasper took the time to look him over in a way he hadn’t been able to do in years. He studied the hard line of his jaw where once there had been the soft curves of youth, the cords of muscle in his arms that certainly hadn’t been there ten years ago, even the shadow of stubble on his chin. He’d grown into himself, Jasper thought vaguely, and didn’t know what to make of that observation. "Thanks,” he said, the forced quality returning to his laugh. “Yeah, I’d definitely say the blond look helped me out. Total Marilyn Monroe vibes. My friend back at school told me it was officially too gay, but I think that’s what I like about it.” Just the words law school made Jasper shiver, the idea of it something so far from anything he’d have ever considered doing that it was almost difficult to imagine what it might be like. “You’re braver than I am. Blond I may be now, but I’m no Elle fucking Woods. So, what are you doing, criminal law? Don’t tell me you’re gonna be planning old people’s estates, I couldn’t take the disappointment.” 

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

fionaxivan:

She grinned. “Maybe not the only thing, but easily in the top five.” She sipped at her drink her whiskey, “Poor Newport could never handle me. Period.” She replied. Chuckling over the fact that he crinkled his nose at her order, she considered how the two of them could be such polar opposites in some respects, but were so similar in others. Clinking her glass against his, she said, “Won’t breathe a word. I promise.” Fiona couldn’t imagine what that was like, needing so desperately to be home and see one’s parents. She quickly pushed the thought from her mind. It was no use thinking about the crap she couldn’t change, She nodded, “I know, sometimes I can’t believe it either. Thank god it is-an oasis, as you say. No way would I make it anywhere else in Texas. Sounds gross, at least we get the sea air here.”

“That’s honestly the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in the last twenty years.” Not for nothing, Jasper was one of the biggest lightweights he himself had ever known, and just a cosmo and a half had already put a wonderful fuzzy film over his brain. “Maybe we’ve just always been too good for this place,” he suggested, bumping his shoulder into hers. “Are there half-naked cowboys walking around Austin usually? I’ve been led to believe that’s what the south is like, and if it is, I’m definitely coming to visit you at school soon.” As was his norm, the alcohol was giving him the craving for a cigarette, and he stood up from the bar even as his hand was already fishing a pack out of his pocket. “Let’s go outside,” he said, grabbing his drink and nodding toward the door that led out onto a fenced-in patio off the bar. He lit up as soon as they’d set their drinks down on a table. “God, do you know how much I miss palm trees when I’m out there?” he said, running his fingers down the grainy bark of a palm growing out of the sidewalk on the other side of the fence. “Do you think you’ll end up coming back to California? You know, when you’re all finishing with school and everything.”

[jjasprtfjyghkj-blog]

bristcws:

KARI: if i could have a bangin’ bod w/o working out i’d be a happy bitch KARI: how bout javiers ? they got a killer jalapeño marg

JAS: same but i’d rather die than lift weights so i’m doomed 2 b a twinky little bitch 4 the rest of my life 💀 JAS: i got my ass grabbed by some weird 40yo freak last time i was there JAS: let’s do it.