#so glad I brought my brother w me to this con

[lord-lawnmower]

I remember walking in the door at son of monsterpalooza and immediately spotting Mr. Moseley’s banner within 30 ft from the door. I was NOT ready to walk into the con and instantly meet him. Caroline Williams’ booth was right next to his too. I told her she has the best horror movie scream ever! I was soooo star struck. She loved me for my KOKLA shirt! Bill Johnson was so sweet to me and very modest when I told him he’s my favorite Leatherface.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Baby Fever: Part 5

*Credit to gif owner* 

Word Count: 2.1k 

Warnings: self-doubt, depression, Sam, Sam being there for Y/n, a bit of angst and of course some fluff. 

Pov: Y/n’s 

Masterlist (Masterlist for series) 

2 months it’s taken Y/n to come up with a decision. She starts to retreat into her room. She worries that because she’s taken so long, Sam might not want to be with her anymore. Might not want to try. 

Recap: 

“I know that this is early and that you’re still hurting, but I want to be with you. I want this to work for you. We can go slow, we can go fast. Anything you are comfortable with I just want to be in your corner Y/n.” Sam said” 

Sam's words bounce in my head like ping-pong every day. I can’t figure out what I want. I sat for a month going back and forth. Going through the pros and cons of every situation.  

The good things that could come from this relationship would be endless. Sam being there and supporting of me. Sam being there for me no matter what is going on. Everything would be prefect, of course we’d have our fights and arguments.  

There was of course the cons list of this, this list be short but there were still things that could go wrong. I could end up breaking your heart, Sam could end up breaking my heart. I could bring all my past relationship issues into our relationships. I could damage you even more then you already are. I could break everything we have.  

Y/n stop!  

Make up your mind.  

So instead of stopping I laid held up in my room. Laid in my bed for a few days and then would venture out grab a cup of coffee and eat some food. As I made my way around the bunker, I sat down in the library. Thinking about it know it probably wasn’t the best idea.  

Because no later than ten minutes after I sat down Sam came walking into the library. He had a book under his arm, a cup of coffee in hand. When he finally pulled his chair up, he looked up straight at me.  

“Hey, Y/n.” Sam said sitting down at the table directly in front of me. It took me a minute to respond. Being so scared to answer him. “Hi, Sam.” I said taking a long sip of my coffee.  

“So, get this, I think I’ve found a hunt. Dean says it a go. I haven’t seen you in a few days figured you might have a cold. But now that I see you’re good. Right, you’re good? I was wondering if you had your stuff packed and ready for a hunt?” Sam asked.  

In a very rushed way. I stared at him and then shook my head. Got up and left him alone in the library. “Y/N!” I could barely hear his voice as I ran towards my room slamming my door.  

Falling atop my bed a let a small shiver run down my spine. I could barely hear the heavy footsteps of boots echo in the hall. A soft knock was the next sound I heard, and then the door clicking and Sam's voice.  

“Y/n what’s wrong?” He asked worry was starting to seep into his voice.

My face muffled by the sheets, pillow, and of course the bed. It was silent for a moment and then I felt the bed shift. The weight of Sam sitting on my bed brought my head up from the bed. I shifted and moved to lay on my back instead. Sam wasn't up in space; he was actually just sitting at the end of my bed where my feet lay.  

“Y/n... I know that things can be hard, but talking can make a few things better. So, what I am offering you is someone to talk too.” he said his hands laying palm down on his knees. I took a deep breathe in and then release it. Sam continued to talk. “I know that I asked you a while ago about being together.” Sam said looking up at me, and then back down at his feet. Trying to find the words to say to me I’d like to think.  

“Like I said we can take everything so slow, or we can go fast. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with everything we do together.” Sam said shifting so more of his body was on my bed. I shifted up giving him more room to operate with.  

Theres that word again “Comfortable”. Comfortable with what? Comfortable with being with you Sam? Of course, I’m comfortable with you, I just don’t want to be the one that ruins everything that we could possibly have together. There’s another word I hate “Together” But you know what’s funny I only hate it when I say not it, but you Sam.  

“Y/n, you've got to breathe for me.” Sam's voice said bring me back to reality. I guess I was thinking a little too hard because I was having a hard time breathe and it felt like... it felt like... “Y/n can you breathe slower for me, you’re having a panic attack.” Sam says.  

I took a deep breathe in and a shallow breathe out. God, I feel so drained. “Y/n. I know that you aren’t okay. And that’s okay. I know that I gave you a huge burden to give me an answer, but you don’t have to. You’ll never have to answer to me, Y/n. That’s not how a relationship works, when you’re comfortable we can work things out. Do you understand me, Y/n?” Sam said, holding me a little bit closer in his arms, brushing my hair down and rubbing tiny circles into my back.  

“Okay, Sam. Can you grab my bag it’s in the chair over there, Let’s go for that hunt?” I asked. Sam hugged me tighter, and eventually had to let me go. “We can go for this hunt. That’s fine Y/n.” Sam said grabbing my go bag and taking the time to shut my bedroom door.  

I waited for the sound of heavy boots to leave the hall way. I got up and got dressed in jeans and boots with my stolen flannels from Sam and Dean. I grabbed my phone and my headphones. I walked out and shut my bedroom door.  

I rode the entire way in the back seat of baby with my headphones plugged in and playing my music. Once in a blue moon I’d see Dean, or Sam look over the mirror and look into the back seat. I stayed at the motel room and did research as the two Winchester boys went out to interview people. They’d come back and ask me what I found. I told Sam and Dean and then went back to being quiet.  

The night before we went out to kill this monster. The boys thought that I was out, but I really wasn’t. I could hear them talking, they were talking about me.  

Dean said “Is it just me, or is there something wrong with Y/n?” Then Sam answered, “Well... I guess I should tell you, but I asked her to be with me. And that was a month ago. Honestly I think she’s having a hard time making a choice.” Sam said.  

I heard the shuffle of papers and Dean's chair make a horrible sound on the floor. “I’m sorry what!” He yelled. “Be quiet Y/n’s asleep. And yes, I asked her to be together with me. Now before we left for this hunt, she had a panic attack. I think a lot of things are going on with Y/n. Don’t be a jerk and say anything to her tomorrow okay Dean.” Sam said in a hushed tone.  

“Fine” I heard Dean say before I saw his shadow pass by the window and he walked into the bathroom.  

When we finally killed the monster, I was still quiet. Sam pulled me to the side and asked me if I was hurt. I just shook my head and slipped away from his grasp and got into the back seat. “I think you outta wait this one out Sammy.” I heard Dean say before I put my headphones in.  

I just saw Sam roll his eyes and walk away from his older brother. We rode to the motel in silence, the only thing the two brothers could here was my music. I pretty much stayed that quiet as we packed out things and Dean went to give our keys back to the pretty blonde desk lady.  

Sam caught my arm as I went to leave the room. My bag slipping from my grasp. I pulled my headphones off and let Sam say whatever he was going to say to me. “Y/n please say something. I don’t like the quiet you and to be honest neither does Dean. What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” Sam asked me. I shrugged my shoulders and I left Sam's grasp grabbing my bag and walking away from him.  

I passed Dean on my way to the impala. He gave me a small smile, and I shrugged my shoulders to him as well. I was in no mood for anything. This lasted for another month before I was able to get out of my head.  

One day I just woke up and everything seemed better, I won’t say that it was prefect but it wasn’t worse. I made coffee that morning pulling three mugs for all of us. Making a huge breakfast. One by one Dean was the first to make his way into the kitchen I bet by the smell of coffee and bacon.  

“Your coffee is sitting at your normal spot; I’ll bring your plate over with me.” I said as I saw Dean walked in. I gave Dean his plate, and sat down in front of him. “What’s been going on with you lately?” Dean asked stuffing his face with pancakes and bacon. That was odd that he asked me that but I followed along.  

“I guess I’d have to start from the beginning, but that’s a long story. So, I tell you the short one. Yeah.” I said to Dean. He just shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “So, I like Sam, and Sam likes me, but my past relationship end miserably and usually are my fault. So, when Sam asked me to be with him, I felt like I was going to ruin everything. I stayed quiet and was alone for so long, because I was trying to weight it all out in my brain. I want to be with Sam. I know that now, I just didn’t and don’t want to ruin what we already have now.” I said, catching my breathe and taking a sip of my coffee.  

Dean smiled, and looked over my shoulder. There was Sam smiling much brighter than Dean. “I’m guessing you heard everything I just said?” I asked. Sam came walking to the room and looked over at Dean. Dean got up and took his plate with him. “Thanks for the bacon, Y/n!” He yelled as he walked away. Sam down in front of me “Yeah I heard you. You know I don’t think that this will end miserable. I don’t you have anything to worry about. I don’t think you’ll ruin this” Sam said pointing at the two of us.  

“And I’m glad you want to be together with me, because I want to be with you more then you could ever know. Now come over here and let me kiss my girlfriend, right?” Sam said shyly. I got up and rushed over to the other side of the table and was carefully with jumping into Sam's lap. Our lips met with such a great force, but it wasn’t one that was strong and over-powered by the need to have each other. It was a kiss that was forced by true love and admiration for the other person.  

This was something that was going to be prefect. I really can’t wait for this to get even better. “Do you want breakfast? I made your vegan bacon and an omelet for you, Sam?” I asked him. He shook his head and I got off his lap, as I walked away, he lightly slapped my ass.  

I just giggled and grabbed his plate, along with coffee. “There you go baby.” I said laying his plate in front of him and sitting across from him. “DEAN? Do you want more bacon?” I yelled. Not even a second later Dean was in the kitchen with his plate in hand and vigorously shaking his head for more bacon.  

Sam talked as I loaded Dean’s plate up with more bacon than any average person would ever eat. “What do you say we move little by little your stuff into my room, or we can do it the other way?” Sam said. I gave Dean his plate back and he kiss my cheek and said “Thank you” in to my ear.  

I sat back down and thought about it. There was no longer need to doubt everything that was going on. Sam was safe with me, and I was safe with Sam. “I kind of like your bed a lot more then my own. So, we can move my things into you...... our room!” I said a smile plastered on my face.

Completed on: 04/06/2021   

[ashrelfury]

Your Name

Brought to you by @minyardjostenrivalry‘s post about a Soulmate AU that i just....could not get out of my head people. So...here’s a short about it.

WARNING: Non-Con/Rape ahead, but nothing descriptive. And Angst with a happy ending. MOSTLY JUST ANGST though. Just... here. 

If enough people comment and like it, I might write more, like the add-on by @demisexualnjosten about their rivalry going into their professional Exy careers I just really had to get this out of my head. .  

Neil’s first experience with pain is at the age of six.

In the beginning, Nathan called him Junior with a small, proud smile on his face. His son, his heir, his pride and joy despite the loveless marriage he’d been forced into for the good of the family. Despite the name ‘Lola’ in bold scribble script on his inner hip. But it was all inconsequential. He had his son, and that would be enough. It was the only thing he and Mary could agree on.

And then the soulmate markings started to appear. A single letter every year, on the exact date and time Nathaniel Abram Wesninski was born.

Neil was three when he saw his father hit his mother for the first time. The letters A N D in careful freehand on his inner forearm, the A just below the crock of his elbow. The whole name would stretch the length of his whole forearm one day. But today wasn’t that day. Instead, he heard his parents screaming at each other, and watched from the stairs as they fought in the kitchen.

“It could be ‘Andrea’, or any other name! We don’t know that it’s a male!”

“We don’t know?! Look at the boy! He looks like a fucking fairy! This is your fault! Giving me a faggot son!”

Neil didn’t understand what ‘faggot’ meant, but he wouldn’t ask. It took only once to learn to be quite around his father. Only one hard slap to the back of his head to learn not to touch the man as well.

Everything started to fall apart that year. Neil doesn’t remember much, but the memory of Lola’s lessons were crystal clear.

Pain.

Blood.

Knives.

Neil thought he understood pain. After all, he constantly felt it. It became even worse when he started being home schooled by one of his father’s men. His mother standing at the door to watch, but never able to interfere. Neil sometimes wanted her to, but he saw the bruises on her skin too, and he thought that maybe it was better if they just did what they were told.

The next year, he got an R on his arm, right below the D.

He’d never felt so much fear before, but it was okay.

“Andrea. Nathaniel. Looks like your soulmates name is Andrea.” Nathan would say, his smile no longer proud, no longer small or warm. Instead, it felt like a predator baring his teeth and Neil wanted to recoil, but he stayed still. A big hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing it hard and Neil grit his teeth to keep from crying out. He’d already learned this lesson too.

The next year, when he E began to appear on his arm, his father no longer believed that ‘Andrea’ was his soulmates name.

Nathan had sent Lola to his bed at night.

Neil was five, and scared, and in pain, but it was okay. He had his mother. She still smiled at him in the morning, although it was sad and fleeting. She held him sometimes too, when both of their bruises allowed the contact with minimal pain.

He’d learned to close his eyes and disappear when Lola touched his body. To repeat some of the songs he’d picked up from the music his mother liked to tune out her words, hissed in his ear. He never responded to her touch, he was too young, but the violation… to be touched in such a way unable to say anything, to be punished when his body wouldn’t do what she wanted it to… Neil dealt with it as best he could.

And then his birthday came again.

There was no party this year. No celebration as Nathan sat him down on a stool in the basement, and the two men watched with identical eyes as the last letter faded into clarity on his inner wrist.

Before it even began to darken on his skin, his father roared. Sudden and startling and terrifying.

Neil jumped and looked up and away from the name of the person who would someday love him. Who wouldn’t ever hurt him. Who couldn’t, because they would be soulmates.

Before Neil could determine what his father’s next move was be, the man had a long piece of metal, the end of it red and burning.

Fear suddenly had new meaning.

And then… so did pain.

In the next four years, Neil would look down at his arm and try to remember the name there. He wouldn’t. But he would remember A N D.

--

Andrew was 6 when he stopped believing in soul mates.

By that point, the letters N A T H A N had marked his forearm and Andrew glared at it every chance he got. If asked, he told people that the reason people didn’t want him, was because he had a boy’s name on his arm.

Every one punished him for it. They made him go to bed without food, they yelled and hit, and raged at him because he was a fairy, he didn’t deserve to live.

Then he turned 7 and the name he’d thought complete gained new letters. An I.

N A T H A N… I. What kind of name did his soulmate have? What the fuck?

But he couldn’t really focus on that point of oddness.

Not when the big man held him down and hurt him. Not when he screamed and cried: “Please! Please don’t, Please stop! Please!”

Not when the man kept saying: “It’s okay, you’re gay. Your soulmate will be glad I’m teaching you this stuff early. Say it again, Andy, come on, one more time and I’ll stop.”

Not when the man didn’t stop.

After everything, Andrew dug his blunt nails into his own arm and scratched at the name on his arm.

Everything bad came from this name. Nathani… what?

Two years later, when the name was finally done etching itself into his skin, he decided to etch his own scars over it. He took a blade to his wrist for the first time.

He started with the L and just kept going up.

Every year, he would focus on a new letter. At ten, it was the L. At eleven, the E. At twelve the I. And at thirteen… he met Cas Spear. And he stopped… for a few months. Then he met Drake… and he started again.

Fourteen, N. Fifteen, A. Sixteen, H. Seventeen, T A N.

He met a twin brother he’d never wanted. Killed a mother he’d never asked for. Met a cousin he absolutely didn’t feel for. And finally finished deforming the cursed name on his arm.

Whoever Nathaniel was, Andrew would kill him if he ever found him.

Later in life, when Andrew met Neil, he would remember taking a racket to the stupid runaway’s stomach, and he’d tell himself that that had been vindication enough.

He’d look at Neil’s arm, and the long burn scar of a fire poker that covered up his name, and he would think about the countless cut scars that covered up Nathaniel on his own.

He would be 27, and Neil 25 when they would walk into a tattoo shop and asked for an artist willing to write soulmate marks.

On Neil’s right arm, they would both finally see what should have been on his left all along. A N D R E W.

And on Andrew’s left, they would both revel in the four letters that were finally more truth than the scars on his right would ever be.

“You sly dog. Stealing him away from his soulmate like this.” The tattoo artist smiled, joking and serious all at once. The name Vinc starting just under his ear and continuing down the collar of his loose black shirt. Neil could tell that this man had met and fallen in love with Vinc – whatever.

“Not sly. Just lucky.” Neil would reply, a smile on his own face as he looked over at Andrew, whose tattoo was already done and wrapped, back under the ever-present black armbands.

Andrew’s hazel eyes narrowed at him, a warning there that Neil winked at.

The tattoo artist would never know that Andrew and Neil really were soulmates. He wouldn’t know that despite everything in their lives pushing them apart, they still managed to not all find each other, but care about each other enough to finally acknowledge what ‘soulmate’ really meant to either one of them.

Andrew had scars he’d made himself covering up the name Nathaniel. Neil had a fire poker branding caused by his father covering up the name Andrew.

Yet Andrew and Neil were exactly where they belonged now.

Side by side, pressed together as two met held hands above the gear shift of a sleek black car, headed for a home they shared together. A home where ‘fear’ and ‘pain’ didn’t have the keys to enter anymore.

Yeah.

Neil was just lucky.

And Andrew was fucking tired of his shitty sappiness.

[shadowofthelamp]

I’d Save You

Summary: Ford’s opinion on his brother changes fast when he volunteers to swap clothes, and later he decides to have a talk with Stan about it. (No ship)

My follower giveaway prize fic for @ave-aria! Thanks for such a good request.

Like this fic? I have kofi fic commissions open!

Link to fic on Ao3

Wordcount: 1525

Rating: G, no warnings (all canon compliant, more ‘missing scene’ than anything)

Ford realized how much he loved his brother when he saw him fall to his knees after Bill entered his mind.

He got close a few minutes earlier, though, when Stan snapped his fingers and demanded Ford hand over his sweater, already tugging his sweat-stained suit pants down over his shoes.

“...What?”

“Look, we got one shot at this. I know how to shimmy out of these things pretty quick but we don’t know how long we’ve got. Gimme your clothes.”

It clicked then, and Ford didn’t know how he didn’t see it before, and he realized his brother was an absolute genius. But they were still running on adrenaline and Ford was still sore and achey from Bill’s torture and doesn’t dwell on the revelation. After all, Stan was a con artist. Tricks like this were what he did. He stripped quickly, trading everything with Stan.

Stan started rummaging around in the trench coat’s pockets. “You got anything sharp in here? A letter opener or some kinda alien gizmo?”

“What for?” Ford asked. “We can’t exactly stab Bill.”

“Not that.” Stan gestured to the side of his face. “Your hair. Looks like Bill fried part of it off or something, and that’s gonna be a giveaway.”

Ford dug into the pockets of Stan’s pants and pulled out a small swiss army knife. Stan grabbed it, using the knife part to hack off the sideburns. “There we go. Now, just act like I’m an idiot for agreeing to the deal, got it?”

“Right. Yes, got it.” Ford said, in awe of how quickly Stan had taken control of the situation. Perhaps he was still recovering from the electric shocks. Stan cleared his throat.

“Bill, you asshole.” He sounded exactly like Ford. Perhaps a bit more gravelly, but Ford himself wasn’t at his best, so it was forgivable. He flashed a grin. “Your turn.”

“Bill, you asshole!” It felt good to say, and Stan laughed.

“Not bad, but you gotta really lean in on it. You know what I sound like.”

“Of course I do.” Ford said in his best impression of Stan’s voice, and Stan’s face hardened as they heard screams and thundering footsteps.

“It’ll work. It has to.”

________

The knob on the side of the memory gun felt wrong under his sweaty fingers. Stan had collapsed to his knees, head thrown back and fingers brushing the bricks below. Bill was inside of his brother. As soon as he realized he was tricked, he was going to wreck havoc, and destroy him. He couldn’t just erase ‘BILL CIPHER’. Bill would burrow in, find a way to ruin Stan from the inside out from whatever was left. It needed to be a clean wipe.

‘STA’ Stan hadn’t known this was coming. He hadn’t spent nearly three decades preparing to die facing Bill. He just saw what needed to be done, and did it. No hesitation.

‘NLEY’ Ford didn’t want him to go. Stan’s face was… almost calm, now. His eyelids didn’t even flutter, looking for all the world like he was simply dreaming. Ford hadn’t seen that. Most of the time they’d been together these past weeks, they’d been snipping at each other, or avoiding each other. He’d only caught it in glimpses- when Stan was cheering about beating Probabilitor, or relaxed watching TV with the kids. Stolen moments he hadn’t been meant to see.

‘PI’ That he wouldn’t have seen, if Stan hadn’t spent thirty years trying to bring him back. He’d wanted a thank you, and now Ford could never give him a proper one; one that wasn’t ground out in irritation for someone he had still seen as the 27-year old that had shoved him into the portal.

‘NES’ He’d be saying goodbye forever when Stan would be saying hello, not knowing what he’d done, what he’d sacrificed.

But Ford would. Ford would know that Stan had saved the world when he hadn’t been able to. Stan was the hero of this story, and Ford realized that he would have moved heaven and Earth to save Stan if he’d been the one pushed through the portal now, Bill Cipher be damned.

The memory gun vibrated as he pulled the trigger, hearing it buzz like a bug zapper, frying Stan’s very being from the inside out. It just kept going for a solid minute- there was a lot of Stanley Pines to erase, after all. Fifty eight years of it.  Beside him, Ford could hear Mabel sniffling and the fabric of Dipper’s jacket shuffling around, and from the corner of his eye he could see that Dipper was wringing the fabric part of his hat.

When the gun had finally erased everything, Ford’s arms dropped. Stan remained on his knees, barely twitching but his mouth had fallen open. What Ford would give to hear a snarky comment, a laugh, a joke that proved he didn’t just lose his brother.

Instead, all he heard was the clatter as the memory gun hit the floor. There was noise- the people in the banners had been freed and fell to the floor- but he didn’t care, sight locked on Stan. He took a single step forward before the Fearamid shook, the entire structure breaking apart. Dipper and Mabel both grabbed one of his arms, and he held them close. Mabel grabbed Stan’s fez before it was sucked up into the giant X in the sky, hugging it to her chest. While Stan’s hair rustled in the wind, he remained dead to the world, soft breaths lost in the roaring disassembling of Weirdmageddon.

It took them a few minutes to find him after that. It was a miracle he’d been dropped nearby, dazed and still on his knees.

Ford’s heart nearly stopped when Stan didn’t recognize Mabel and didn’t properly start again until he yelled at the pig.

_______

The next morning, there was a lot to do. Dipper and Mabel had started packing, (Mabel had to figure out which sweaters to keep and which to gift to Candy since she didn’t have nearly enough room in her suitcase, something that had invoked some fake swears he’d definitely heard from Stan a few times.) Stan had mentioned they were going to throw the kids a birthday party to Lazy Susan when he stopped by for breakfast, so by now half the town probably was coming.

At the moment, Stan had a pen in his mouth and was trying to tape a banner up over the door to the gift shop. Ford watched for a moment. “How much do you remember?”

Stan pulled the pen out from between his teeth and tucked it behind his ear. “Remember you should be helping me with this.” Stan said, turning around. “It’s still fuzzy, but I got the main stuff down, I think. I know the kid’s names and your name, and Wendy and Soos. Can’t remember the blonde kid’s that stopped by earlier, though.”

“Preston’s daughter? I admit, I don’t quite remember that one either.” Ford said, taking the tape from Stan and tearing off a good-sized piece before handing it back up so Stan could finish. “There was… something I wanted to tell you.”

“Is it bad news? Nobody ever starts good news with ‘I need to tell you something’, they just say it.” Stan asked. “You better not be radioactive from alien experiments after everything.”

Ford shook his head, a small smile starting to build. “No, not that, although it is quite possible parts of me aren’t entirely human anymore. No, I wanted to thank you.”

“For w- oh.” Stan blinked.

“I know how difficult it must have been. I checked over the work you did that was still in the basement lab this morning, and if you only had one journal… really, it’s a wonder you didn’t do better in school if you managed to rebuild most of the portal with only part of the blueprints. You could have been a great engineer, and a good assistant-” Ford cleared his throat. “Anyways. Thank you. For saving me. I wasn’t well when you found me and honestly I haven’t always been in the best state since, but I’m glad you brought me back.”

Stan blinked again, before a grin spread across his face and he grabbed Ford into a tight hug, burying his knuckles in Ford’s hair to give him a noogie.

“Ha, knew you had it in you!”

“I just can’t believe you’d risk the world for me. I made the warnings clear.” Ford said, half to himself, but Stan let go of him and stepped back.

“Of course I would. Yeah, we were angry at each other, but we were both going through a lotta stuff. Would you have done it for me?” Stan tensed a bit at the question, but Ford laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I might not have then, paranoid and confused, but I certainly would now. I wouldn’t want to be here without you.”

That time when Stan hugged him, Ford was fairly certain if his ribs hadn’t been reinforced with Algian steel from Quantus 5 they would have cracked.

[kpopchangedme]

Practice Makes Perfect [M] | Jackson

You don’t want to be the “only” virgin in college so you ask your poor friend Jackson for... advice.

|| M.List || GOT7 ||

Protagonists: Jackson Wang & You

Word Count: 5.4k

Genre: NSFW - Smut - Friends to Lovers - Angst - Romance - *First Time* - *Light awkwardness* -*Swearing (no degradation)*

Snippet: “Little genius”, Jackson’s voice is a low mess in your ear, “tell me when you want me to stop.” His nose brushes your neck and you shiver, curious as to where you’re ready to take this. A part of you already knows, but you’re too shy to tell him how much you want him.

Lys’ note: Classic plotline. Just a little something ‘cause Jackson looks damn fine these days and I’m excited about Montréal’s weather getting warmer...

“I think I want to do it with Wooyoung.”

You raise your head just in time to catch him choking on his gulp of Peach Schnapps. He manages to dolorously swallow while coughing, eyes tearing up.

“J-Jang Wooyoung?”, he returns your gaze completely stunned, using the sleeve of his new college sweater to wipe the corner of his eyes. You guys never talk about sex. It’s one of the unwritten rules of your friendship.

“Yes dummy, that one.”

“Why would you want to do it with him? He doesn’t even know you exist.” He chews on his lips, nervous and you take a big sip of your red cup.

“He totally does!”, you object, “Earlier, he said hey to me in the kitchen.”

Of course, he did, Jackson grimaces, the man is an infamous manwhore and you have boobs. Thinking this, his eyes drop to your tight red t-shirt. There, under the thin fabric, Jackson can practically make out the lace of your bra. Why is it this thin, shouldn’t College gear be made of better materials? He gulps and when he looks back up, he meets your inquiring gaze. Your lips are slightly parted in awe and one of your brows is raised, questioning.

“Did you just peer at my boobs?!” You slap a hand on your breasts and Jackson gasps for air, feeling his whole body turn cold. “You totally just did!”

“I didn’t! – I-I was j-just–”

“This is great!”

“–thinking about–” Jackson stops his justifications, eyes widening. Wait, what did you just say?

“You can help me!” Crawling, you cross his bedroom to kneel in front of him.

“Help you with what?” Jackson presses his back to his bed, imperceptibly backing away from you.

“Fuck with Wooyoung of course!”

“Ew, don’t say it like that!” His face twitches in disgust and you roll your eyes back.

“Why? You always talk like that with the guys!” You stare back, perplexed.

Jackson clenches his teeth, “Come on, I don’t! Besides it’s not the same between guys, girls aren’t supposed to say crude things!”.

You pout feeling a fire ignite in your chest and not the good kind. “That’s plain sexism!”

“That’s not sexi–” Jackson tries to defend himself, but you move back to the wall, away from him. “Hey! I didn’t mean it like that. Just… Just that–”

“Just that girls can’t fuck, is that it Jackson? We’re only supposed to make love, right?” He opens his mouth, but closes it immediately. You’re glaring at him and he has a hunch that the conversation will only go downhill from now. “I just thought for a second that you didn’t see me as a little sister and that maybe – maybe, you’d help me.”

Jackson cringes at that, feeling he won’t be able to say no to you any longer. You’ve been living with his family for almost two years now and although he often acts like one, he definitely doesn’t see you as a brother would. As he should.

“I’m not helping you hooking up with my brother’s friend y/n! He’s way too old for you!”

“It’s just 5 years, dummy, and I don’t care who it is, I just don’t want to go to college and still be a virgin!”

“Why not?”, he swallows another disgusting gulp of Schnapps, avoiding your eyes. “What’s so wrong about it?”

“UGH – you wouldn’t know since you aren’t one anymore!”

“W-What?” Jackson frowns at your assurance and brings his knees under his chin, embarrassed. “Of course, I am one, what’s your point?”

“No, I know you aren’t!” You angrily snap back, mimicking his sitting position.

The loud bass from the party downstairs is slipping through the wooden floor, filling the awkward silence between you two. You bite your lips, expecting your close friend to come clean but he doesn’t, much to your exasperation. You’ve been wanting to confront him for a while now, but you’re scared of the reason why it affects you so much. He avoids your gaze and stares at the fairy lights you got him last Christmas instead, only source of brightness in the dim lit room. You’ve known Jackson for at least 10 years now, grew up together because your moms are best friends. You guys even got closer after you moved into the Wang’s home to finish high school when your parents left the city. Now you’re both about to leave for the same college together, each on a scholarship; a sport and a academic one.

You thought he told you everything, but clearly, he doesn’t.

“What about Caroline at Wolfe Park after Mark’s party?” Jackson’s face falls at that, mouth opening in a mixture of surprise and pure horror. “I heard her talking about it! Pretty sure sex in public places is a felony, lover boy.”

“T-that’s beyond the present point.”

“Don’t lie to me, it’s fine!” Your nose wrinkles, indicating otherwise. “Just tell me – how did it feel?”

“Y/n, you don’t need to lose your virginity because I did!” Jackson raises his voice and you look at him hurt he suddenly came clean about it. “It didn’t mean anything, and trust me, it didn’t feel any kind of special!” You force indifference on your face to hide your disgust at the idea of Jackson’s body all over Caroline’s.

“Who cares? It’s not like sex has to always be special.” He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to feel relieved or scared when you crawl closer again, keeling in front of him. Still, he’s glad you don’t seem mad anymore. “Being a virgin isn’t cool… Right?” Jackson doesn’t answer, still wondering why Caroline told you about sleeping with him. “So, will you help me?”

“Unh?” He’s snapped back to reality when you put your hand on his shoulder to shake him.

“Help me lose my virginity, dummy!” You sigh and your eyebrows join each other in a new exasperated frown. “Are you drunk, you haven’t even been drinking that much!”

“Am not!” Jackson defends himself, biting his lips when he feels your chest slightly brush his knees. What are you doing this close to him? It can’t be good. “How would I even help you? I don’t even know Winston’ friends!” Just that Wooyoung is an unsavoury 22 years old male specimen from whom you should stay far far away, he mentally adds.

“I don’t wanna look like a stupid newbie for my first time...” You offer him a coy smile, the kind that makes him weak. His little genius doesn’t want to look stupid, it doesn’t make any sense.

“Ok, what do you need me to do? Talk you up to Wooyoung and hint something? Simulate an emergency and lock you both together in the basement?”

Jackson smiles too, ready to do almost anything that would make you happy. Just like when you were kids, except that back then you only begged for balloons and carousel rides, those didn’t require him to give up the girl he liked. Your eyebrows shoot up, you’re surprised he agreed so fast. Somehow, his compliance even leaves you a bit bitter.

“I don’t want to look like a newbie”, you repeat and clear your throat almost solemnly, “I know how everything works and should be from books, I just need a bit of practice”.

“You… what?” Jackson laughs, confused.

“Practice!” You repeat, exasperate by his lack of understanding. You both avoided the subject of physical intimacy for years; why does he think you’re bringing it up now, how could he not get it right away?

“With whom? How?” His face slowly falls again, back pressing even more in the side of his bed to get away.

You’re always analytical, weighting pros and cons, but this time you are in foreign territory this isn’t something you can really learn from books. Jackson should probably just leave his room altogether, go back to the wild college acceptance party downstairs, but somehow, he wants to hear what comes next. Surely there’s an implacable logic behind your absurd idea.

“It’s just that… Hell, you kissed a lot of girls Jackson! Probably half the school!”

“You want to practice with me?!” This time he gets up, suspicions confirmed. He crosses the entire room to get away, only stopping when his back hits the door.

“NO!... Yes?” You ask, following him.

“Why me?!” He breathes out, secretly hopeful of something more.

“It’s just that Caroline said you were really good at it and kissing! I guess you’re attractive and you have a lot of experience. You could teach me things! I think – I thought, earlier when you looked at m–”

“I don’t want you hanging around my ex!” Jackson throws his arms in front of him, he’s trapped against his own bedroom door, but his hands find your shoulders, keeping you at a safe distance. He’s mad that you brought her up again, Caroline hates the fact that you two live together. Why is she going around telling you stuff like that? “She’s clearly a bad influence!”

“You said earlier it meant nothing – whatever – you did with her!” You slap his hands away from your shoulders, but he doesn’t budge. “Just go to second base with me! I promise it won’t be awkward or mean anything either, it’s just you!”

Just him. Jackson pulls a face, the tiny hope in his chest dying instantly.

You scoff, misinterpreting his expression, this time you’re truly irritated. “Oh, come on, it’s just me! I won’t tell a soul, nobody on your team will ever find out!”

“Is that what you think is holding me back, the guys?” He asks, bewildered. “That I don’t want my friends to know I kissed a mathlete?”

You pout, “Am I so much worse than Caroline then? It’s just kissing.” You slowly exhale, closing both eyes. “She’s mean, but at least she’s very very hot, is that it?”

That’s so not it either, Jackson thinks, fighting against himself to not just abdicate already.

When he doesn’t say anything, hurt flickers on your face and you reach for the doorknob, even though he’s leaning against the door.

“Forget I ever brought it up.”

Then it happens.

You both don’t really know how, but suddenly, Jackson’s hands are cupping your face and pulling you on him. At first, you’re overwhelmed by shock, eyes and mouth opened on a muffled exclamation, but then… Jackson’s lips start to move against yours and you finally shut both eyes. You’ve only kissed one guy before, but immediately you understand what you overheard Caroline talk about in the girls’ locker room. Instead of being stiff and playing it safe like your first sloppy experience, Jackson kisses just like you thought he would; with intent, ardent and solid.

“Oh, you’re good–” He sucks on your lower lip, distracting you. “–at this!”

He pauses, “Shhh– Don’t talk!”, his voice is more familiar than those new sensations and you smirk, reassured.

“Is that a real rule or just a friendly advi–” You don’t get to finish that sentence because his tongue uses the opportunity to invade your mouth, colliding with yours.

This isn’t something you’ve ever done before and it’s exalting; you’re avid, you need more. One of Jackson’s hands leaves your face to trace your shoulder and beyond. It carefully stops its exploration down the curve of your back, in the middle of your hips, right before it reaches the beginning of your ass and you wonder. Wonder if he might have enjoyed touching you like this if you weren’t you and he wasn’t dummy. Without meaning to, you moan at his misdemeanors and he stills but barely stops.

Jackson keeps kissing you, only with a little more prudence. He won’t let you own him like this. He knows better than to lose himself in you simply for your very silly and dangerous request. He’ll get hurt, he already knew it but somehow still gave in. Your mouth taste like Peach Schnapps in the most perfect way, you both barely had any, but he finds himself on the brink of sobriety now. You’re intoxicating, he realizes just in time that this madness needs to stop.

Even if he feels like he doesn’t need to breathe to stay alive anymore, he pulls away, panting.

You freeze when his lips desert yours, watching him through your half-closed eyelids. It’s like something is withheld from you, forbidden, and you want it more than ever now. This was a bad idea… perhaps? Jackson seems uncomfortable although he doesn’t move further away. you bite your cheek, embarrassed by his reticence.

“Well, I don’t think you need practice, y/n...” He chuckles abashed hands still on your body. “Trust me, you don’t feel stupid or newbie at all. It was good – great – but please don’t do it–”

“Wait.” He pauses at your interruption and you take a deep breath, pondering on how shameless you’re ready to be to have your way. “We haven’t gone to second base yet…”

“Errr– Really?” Jackson tilts his head and your fingers dig in his shoulders anxiously. “I don’t think we have to go there – I mean you seemed to be doing just fine!” He grimaces when you take your hands off him and step back cautiously.

You shouldn’t.

But at the same time, you really want him… You want Jackson? You’re not sure why you want something that’s so wrong when you fought your entire life to always do right. You really shouldn’t. Still, knowing that this is wrong, you throw your new college t-shirt over your head. This cannot be bad; better with your closest friend than anyone else.

“Holy shit!” Jackson heaves, clearly astounded. He could look away – should – but his eyes are glued to your bra, leaving little to his imagination. “You went there.”

You flush, realizing what you just did, “Jackson it’s not the first time you’re seeing me half-naked…”.

“Trust me, I’d rememb–” He shakes his head, embarrassed. “Err– I mean… I-I know but not since ages–”

“Jackson…” You breathe out, crossing your arms to hide yourself. “If you just stare like that…” He licks his lips, feeling all self-control abandoning him at your needy tone. “... It makes me feel ridiculous.” You turn away, ashamed. “I’m so sorry, I coerced you into kissing me. I must have lost my mind, I know you don’t want me like that. I’m not your type and it’s fine.” You lean to pick up your t-shirt, feeling like dying of humiliation, you basically coerced your best friend into making out with you.

“How can you switch from confidence to self-depreciation in a minute like that?” His deep sigh makes you freeze, “Intimacy isn’t as clear as math or science y/n, it’s not about standards, number of bases or logic”.

You snort, forgetting you’re in your bra in front of him and cruelly lacking credibility: “You know nothing about math or science.”

“And you really don’t know how to deal with human beings, yet here we are!” He shrugs and you clench your teeth. “You should be glad I always have your back, little genius! Sex isn’t something you practice with anybody just like an experiment or an analysis, it needs feelin–”

“You aren’t anybody!” He shuts up, eyes widening. “I mean – you’re my best friend Jackson. I wouldn’t have asked anybody to do this.”

“Then do you love Wooyoung?” Jackson’s jaw tightens, and you roll your eyes, having forgotten all about Winston’ hot friend in the past 5 minutes.

“No! Of course not, he’s just… Just anybody…” He’s right, there’s a flaw in your reasoning, a loophole, still you glare at him, angry.  “Sex doesn’t have to be special Jackson! It’s just a… natural thing.”

“What you mean is that you can use me as practice for foreplays because I’m just your best friend and then – how did you put it? – fuck with some random dude.”

“Yes, when you say it like that, I sound horrible.”

Jackson lips part slightly, he didn’t expect you to agree. “Also, stop acting like I find you disgusting! You’re very attractive y/n, I assure you every single guy at this party wants you. Stop worrying about stupid stuff, just wait to find the right guy!”

“So. you’re saying it’s just you then?” He frowns, not getting why your hurt expression is back after he clearly complimented you. “You’re the only one who doesn’t want me.”

Jackson shakes his head, confused at how you even came to this conclusion. “No, I do want you”, he pauses shy of his confession, “just not like that!”

“It’s fine Jackson, you don’t have to pretend... Let’s just go back to the party and move on. I don’t want to ruin graduation by talking ab–”

“Are you angry at me now? Are you fucking kidding me?!” He raises his voice finally out of patience and you pause your second attempt at picking up your shirt. You guys never really fought before. “You’re the one who asked this because I’m ‘just’ me! How do you think that makes me feel?”

“I said you’re attractive!” You take a step forward, raising a finger in front of his face. You weren’t that much of a jerk, you won’t let him drag you over this.

“You said ‘I guess you’re attractive’!”

“Are you kidding me?! Are you mad because of why I said I chose you?”

“YES!”

“FINE, what should I say then?” You yell back at him, wondering slightly why your first argument must be over this. “That you’re fucking hot – you already know that, they all tell you that! That it angers me thinking you slept with Caroline – why would you care? That I hate being like a sister to you – FINE, I HATE it! I hate that you don’t look at me!”

Jackson’s stunned by your confessions and you glare at him, panting after your sudden outpouring.

“I look at you.” He breathes out, but you easily brush it off.

“Only because I’m currently shirtless, dummy.” You mutter glaring at the door instead of holding his gaze. “Just go join your friends downstairs.”

“No, I think we need to talk about what you ju–”

“Talk about what? Everything has been s–” You pause when Jackson takes off his sweater, letting it join your t-shirt on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“This”, he grabs your face again, pulling forward to kiss you. It’s just a peck and you push back against his bare chest, still angry at him. “Let’s go to second base.” He kisses you again and this time you let him do it, fighting back with your lips instead.

“You said I’m fucking hot? Please, tell me about how you feel all the time.” Jackson asks but doesn’t let you talk back. “Sorry about Caroline, that was stupid, she’s not you.” He makes sure you’re very occupied as he walks you back to his bed, letting his hands wander everywhere he wanted to touch earlier. “Also…” Jackson stops sucking your neck for a second, confusing you. “I definitely don’t see you as a sister. Never had, never will. God, that would be so messed up right now.”

You giggle at his chopped response to your confession and he playfully shushes you. His body follows yours when you tumble on the mattress and he makes sure to catch himself with his elbows not to crush you. You sigh in his mouth, there’s a turmoil of sensations and emotions threatening to make you question this situation, but you shove them aside, concentrating on the warmth of his body instead. Your fingers dig his shoulders as he relinquishes your mouth to taste the skin of your neck. You’ve caught yourself dreaming of this from time to time, but you never thought it would ever be a reality.

His right hand slyly explores your torso, leisurely moving down until it reaches the hem of your pants. There he pauses but you surprise yourself by curving on your back, inviting him to touch you lower. Jackson chuckles, kissing you again while you reach to open your tight jeans. You unsexily wiggle to find your way out of them and he rescues you, sliding them off easily.

Then his chest is back on yours again, igniting your whole body. You resume making out, one of your hands gets lost in his hair while the other caresses his bare back in wonder. When you reach his ass cheek you grab it, making Jackson grind forward and groan. His thigh between your legs rubs your panties and you raise your hips reflectively craving more friction. With that, Jackson repeats the gesture and this time, you spread your legs a bit, offering him better access.

“This kinda is second base by the way.” He laughs and you slap his arm.

“I know...” You lie even though you both know you haven’t done this before. Jackson laughs again, grinding forward to rub you at the obvious deceit and you moan despite yourself.

He pauses, raising himself on an elbow to survey your expression. “Y/n, are you sure this is alright?”

You nod with a shy smile, tugging at his sheets to unmake his bed. “C-can we go under the covers? I’m a bit cold…”

Jackson chuckles, tearing himself from you to open the sheets and cover you, taking off his dolorously tight pants in the process.

“Better?” He asks, sliding next to you.

You nod satisfied, wrapping your arms around his neck and forcing him to lower himself to kiss you. While your mind is occupied by the kiss, Jackson’s right hand pursues his exploration of your body, this time coming up the interior of your thigh. Your legs are full of goosebumps at the ticklish touch, but it’s comfortable, reassuring. When he reaches your panties, he simply cups you, pressing the fabric to your core. Once again, your hips reflexively roll onward and you moan.

“Little genius”, Jackson’s call is a low mess right next to your ear, “tell me when you want me to stop.”

His nose brushes your neck and you shiver, curious as to where you’re ready to take this. A part of you already knows, but you find yourself too shy to tell him how much you want him.

Jackson’s hand is still stroking your panties as he waits patiently for you to ask him to slow down, but it never comes. After a moment, he can’t resist anymore, he wants to see you react to his touch, hear you moan his name. His breathing is heavy, almost painful, he can barely think at this point. He can feel how wet you already are, yielding to the temptation he slides a finger in you slowly. You freeze, taken aback by the new sensation and involuntarily tighten around him.

He plants butterfly kisses on your shoulder to ease you and you exhale slowly, rocking your hips on his finger to get use to it. You both relax at the gesture and he moves his digit in and out leisurely, until he feels you loosen. He was worried you wouldn’t want him, but you’re caressing his shoulders encouraging him to pursue. He slides a second finger and this time you are ready and you sigh, pleased and comfortable.

You’re a bit overwhelmed by the newfound sensations, letting them rock you as Jackson trails sloppy kisses down your neckline. You can feel his hard on brushing your leg and you smile to yourself. Looks like Jackson wants you indeed. You don’t really know what you’re doing as you reach down to touch him, but it doesn’t feel off or awkward when you clumsily slide your hand in his briefs. His erection twitches in your palm and Jackson groans, surprised you went there. He’s so warm in your hand, so you pump him in rhythm as he’s fingering you. His tip is wet against your thumb and you smear it, causing him to jolt his hips upward.

“Shit! Oh y/n…” It seems Jackson is the first one moaning a name after all and he smiles to himself at the realization.

“Jackson”, you coo right after, “should you go grab a condom?”

He stops his misdemeanors, startled by your question. He didn’t think this would go all the way.

“A-are you sure?” His voice dies down at the end, he doesn’t want to stop right now but more than that he fears you might regret this later. “I mean, there’s a party downstairs, it’s your first time and it’s me and–”

“Jackson”, embarrassed, you cover your face with your forearms, “I lied, I only want it to be with you.”

He beams, too happy for words, and his chest swells with pride.

“But we can wait, there’s no rush–” He winces, mentally dreading the idea of you asking to postpone.

“It needs to be right now.” You dare a glance between your arms and see his puzzled expression. You know Jackson’s probably still pondering, trying to be the good guy. “I-I want you, right now.”

He smiles widely at your assertion, reaching to uncover your face before planting a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Ask and the Jackson shall be given to you!”

“Shut up, you’re an ass.”

A slightly awkward silence falls between you as you wait, one only filled by the sounds of Jackson rummaging through a drawer and finally of a wrapper being torn open. You feel your anxiety grow when he climbs over you, but he takes few minutes to kiss you again, easing your worries. You don’t really realize he’s positioning himself at first, too busy kissing him back. Then his tip brushes your slit, so you freeze, waiting for the pain to come.

“Relax”, Jackson commands and his voice seems lower than humanly possible. He pushes a bit, stretching your entrance, but stops before you can even feel any ache. “Are you really, really sure?” When you meet his eyes again, you see that he’s frowning, brows so furrow he seems almost angry. You rarely saw him as serious as this and you roll your eyes at his overdramatic ways.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, dummy.” Your threat cracks him up and he smirks, still not moving an iota.

“You’ll what now, genius?” You smile at his question, feeling some lingering apprehension abandoning you.

“I’ll fucking k–” This time Jackson pushes further, slowly but surely enough it shuts you up. He stops halfway in, waiting for you to tell him to continue and calming you with small kisses like he did earlier.  It’s a weird feeling, not exactly pain but rather discomfort. When you feel yourself ready to take more, you nod and Jackson pursues delicately, studying your frown. He stops again eventually and the stretching ends, a dull ache lingering instead. Jackson is breathing slowly over you, biting his lower lips with concentration.

“Are you all the way in?” You gulp, worried you might have done something wrong for him to look so serious.

He snorts, becoming himself; “Please, never ask me that again. This is like my every nightmare!”

“S-Sorry” You wiggle under him, making him lose his smile and collect himself anew. “I meant, is everything okay for you?”

“Me?” Jackson laughs, this situation feels so surreal to him. “Y/n, you feel amazing, I just don’t want to hurt you!”

You smile, pulling on his built shoulders to steal a deep kiss. “You can move now, it doesn’t hurt.” It’s a little white lie, but you know it will be fine. It’s Jackson, everything will be fine.

He doesn’t need to hear you ask him twice. Immediately, he rolls his hips forward, twitching inside you. He pulls back before entering again still gently, but in one go this time. After feeling you relax around him, he repeats the gesture, over and over, pampering you with kisses along the jaw, the neck, the shoulder. The dull ache never really goes away but it fades, blurred with new sensations that are so strong they remind you of the intensity of pain although they have nothing to do with it.

You let go of the fear you were still holding unconsciously and focus on the pleasure. Jackson is in you, between your legs, you just gave yourself to him and he’s giving just as much in return. He changes his rhythm, accelerating and you dig your nails in his skin, encouraging him.

“You’re…” Jackson groans in the covertness of your neck. “...So tight.”

You curl your toes, skeptic. “Oh… I-Is this good?”

Instead of answering, he lets out a low chuckle of disbelief, one that convinces you that it totally is. He buries himself in you relentlessly and soon enough, you forget all about the expectations you had for sex, moved by the intimacy between you too. You realize most of the pleasure you’re feeling comes from the friction of your bodies and decide to concentrate on it. Jackson hooks your leg around his waist and you let him guide you, he now comes deeper each time your hips meet. One of his hands explores between your legs, finding that spot you’re the only one to ever have caressed and he teases you, building your pleasure in a new way.

At this point Jackson knows he won’t be able to last much longer, he has been dreaming of you like this for so long. He focuses on your pants to stay anchored, they are irregular, halting by moments, and he can feel you around him, he knows you’re more comfortable now. The thing that makes him lose it though, is the way you say his name after he begins touching you. The first time he’s practically sure it’s his imagination, it’s so hollow and sexy, more a moan than actually his name leaving your mouth. The second time does it. You call after him again, pulling at his hair and his hips jerks forth uncontrollably as his carefully built self-control fails him.

Jackson comes and you hold him until he’s done, defeated he falls next to you. He’s in a blissful euphoria when he hears your low giggle, barely audible over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest.

“What?” He mutters, trying to recover faster. “Was it not like this in the books you studied?”

You shake your head from side to side, beaming.

“Now I’m just really glad we’re leaving for college soon. We need to practice this as much as we can, and home is a bit complicated.”

“I love you, little genius.”

“I know.” You blink, seemingly unphased by his sudden revelation. When you notice how stunned Jackson is because of your answer, you laugh again, the sound making his heart swell. “Are you freaking out? I’m just quoting Star Wars. I thought you’d get this one right away.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

You exhale puffing your cheeks. “Really, dummy?! How could you forget about Han and Leia’s iconic love affair at an important moment like th–”

Jackson interrupts you with a kiss, hands cupping your face to tilt your head and offer himself better access.

“You still haven’t said it.” He pulls away, gazing at you adoringly.

“I love you and you were right, sex can feel pretty special. I guess...”

And then, as if to make sure to ruin your special moment, you hurry to add: “They don’t tell you condoms reek in sex books, the latex smell is just horrible… Ew.” You wrinkle your nose to illustrate your point and Jackson can’t help laughing at how you you’re being right now.

“You’re so uncute, you never say normal things!”

“Jeez, roast me now – of all nights – why don’t you? Sorry, it’s just who I am.”

He laughs again at your irked defense and you turn to glare at him. “I love just who you are.” Almost immediately there’s a hint of softness in your eyes, so he knows he’s winning you over. “I’m really glad you asked me to be your practice partner, little genius.”

|| M.List || GOT7 ||

[limpblotter]

5Pointz

a/n: In memory of 5Pointz being announced for demolition in August of 2014; it was one of the saddest moments of modern-gentrification in NYC history. It was a real shame losing one of the most iconic buildings in Urban Expression only to be made into luxury buildings, I’m sad that the 7train view won’t ever be the same but I’m hella glad it existed and I couldn’t stop thinking about how a certain fictional character would have taken this news.  Summary: Pete takes a blow to his mood, Carla helps a brother out. Warning: Curing and Gentrification talk also this is PLATONIC Carla and Pete. w/c: ~3k

“Sonny you’re late.” Usnavi heard the door swing open; his back was to the front since he was restocking a few shelves. A job that belonged to Sonny but again, he was late. This was around the time Sonny would say something cheerful yet mocking. Something about how he’s family or how much Usnavi loved him. Two years of this nonsense, Sonny was seventeen now and still cracked the same jokes without fail. He was a creature of habits. So every nerve in Usnavi’s body tingled when he didn’t hear any response. “Sonny?” Was he mistaken? Was it not Sonny? When he turned he saw Sonny had moved to the register. His eyes down, as he tapped the keys absently not pressing down hard enough to actually type anything.

Usnavi’s makeshift parenting senses were firing alarms. Something was wrong.

“What’s with you? Tienes un bajon de bilirrubina (you look down**saying not literal translation**)” Usnavi cocked a brow at his direction but it did nothing to lighten his absent somber face. Usnavi drew a bit closer, pretending to be scanning the shelves and not the bags under Sonny’s eyes. When he got to the front desk he found his eyes were puffed, red outlined the waterline of his eyes and worry grappled Usnavi’s chest as it did many of times. It wasn’t easy being a patron figure to a teenage boy. Con cuidado. Tread with care. 

  “So…um…what were you doing last night? Hanging? Chilling?” Crap what did the kids call it now?

Sonny shrugged no comment to Usnavi’s poor grasp of today’s terminology. It was actually painful to see someone who was so cheerful look so devoid. “Nothin’” Sonny pursed his lips as he angrily fiddled with the cashier.

“Ta’bien.” Usnavi started to back away, “Just wondering If maybe you got something on your mind or—“

“I’m gonna check the backroom, k?” Sonny brushed past Usnavi so quickly the wind of his afterimage smacked him in the face. It had been a good while since Sonny acted this way, this distance…Usnavi like to think they were over this kind of teenage angst and they were a lot more understanding and open.

Aye, dios. Usnavi did not want to relive Sonny’s emotional years again. It was time to call in the big guns.

After making a very swift phone call, Usnavi stayed at the front. Sonny didn’t seem to come out from the backroom which, one could say did make a good dupe for Sonny’s bedroom. The smell was about the same. “I came as soon as I could.” Nina walked through the doors, hair a mess, still dressed in her gym clothes. Usnavi eyed her up then quirked a brow. They shared a silent question and answer before Nina sighed, “Vanessa started a Zumba class and I’m beat.”

“I figured, you know she tried to get me to do one of those….sweaty, shake-your-ass classes?” Usnavi chuckled a bit letting Nina catch her breath.

“Ha.” She snorted cutely, covering her mouth with her hand. “Esa loca.” With a short scan of the store, Nina’s laugh was stifled by the lack of chipper hellos and small talk. The store did feel less welcoming without Sonny’s almost unnaturally cheerful, teenage presence. “Where is he?”

“Back room…”

“How bad?”

“You remember the day someone told him feeding rice to pigeons was actually one of the main sources of their death when he was ten?”

“Poor boy couldn’t stop crying everytime he saw a bird…I had to blindfold him everytime we passed the park or it was waterworks until we got home from school.”

“Worse.”

“No”

Usnavi thumbed to the door. Nina didn’t need to say much, she could tell but Usnavi’s tired expression he was worried about him. There wasn’t many things that would put Sonny in such a sour mood. Usually it was something large scale, like politics or news. Nina could only keep her mind on so many topics, Sonny was far better at keeping up to trend with what was going on in the world. She opened the backroom and found Sonny slumped up against one of the 50 pound rice bags, using the produce as a make shift beanbag chair while his hat covered his face and his phone was flat on his chest. “Hey, Sonny” Nina smiled closing the door behind her. “Mind if I…pop squat on the grains?”

She got no answer, not even a hello from her favorite kind in the barrio. Sonny shrugged a bit giving Nina all the ok she needed. “Thanks, my legs are like jello…” the Zumba class was Sean Paul themed, there was just a bit too much leg and hip action for Nina’s tastes. “So…you gonna tell me what’s up or is Usnavi gonna have to start breaking out the Santeria candles from Carla and Daniella’s place?”

They both wished she was joking but if Sonny didn’t start explaining soon the whole store was going to start smelling like rose water and old, waxy incense from the Virgin Mary candles they had laying around. “Pete…” Sonny croaked a bit, the name made Nina’s mouth open into an “O”. This all made sense now that Sonny said that. After all Usnavi had no idea… “He hasn’t said a word to me…he’s been real cold Nina…like…” He sat up, teeth gnawing at his full lower lip.

Teenage romance was always a lot more dramatic than it needed to be. “Its summer, maybe Pete is busy meeting his August tagging quota.” She smiled, but something in Nina knew better. Pete and Sonny weren’t normal teens. In a lot of ways, they were tiny adults. Far more mature than most their age. Seen a lot more stuff, more pain and trails. It didn’t sound right that this would bother Sonny this deeply.

“Its not like him not to talk to me…What if he’s hurt or upset?”

Nina leaned over from her bag of rice, feeling the millions of grains shift her weight making her nearly sink to the ground. With her last efforts she ran her hand down Sonny’s arm (though was actually aiming for his head) and frowned, “why don’t you tell me when you last spoke with Pete?”

Sonny stiffened a bit at the question, he readied himself and slowly coughed out with a slight pink hue forming at the apples of his cheeks. “I…was taking the train back from Pete’s place in Queens.”

“Ok….” Nina smiled, of course masking her immediate need to ask questions. Everything in her screamed for more details of why, how, and what happened but she channeled OUT her father’s interrogatory genes and went for her mother’s understanding. “And everything was fine?”

“It was cool, he walked me to the train station, usually he rides back and leaves me at the turnstile so he can just hop back on the train but…I dunno he got to the top of the station and all the sudden he just said he had to ‘bounce’ and left me there…” Sonny flipped over his phone. He scanned the messages he left Pete. The progression of emojis and playful goodnights then turned into worried ‘hello?’ and ‘you there?’s was almost too painful. He over analyzed every text and every emoji. “He hasn’t spoken to me since…” He roughly placed the cap on his head and yanked it down until the brim was bent irregularly against his nose.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure Pete has a reason.” Nina rubbed his arm a bit more before Sonny fully turned and released a few frustrated tears. Just like those blindfolded tear jerkers back when he was ten, Nina soothed her favorite barrio babysitting boy with soft head pats and promises of lechosa smoothies.

“So Sonny is having trouble with Pete? That’s terrible – “ Carla was rudely interrupted by some of the larger rats that scurried the wet sidewalks of the city during the Summer nights.

‘Hey Mami where are you headed’

‘Heeeey bella~’

“Carla donde en el diablo eres?” (Carla where the HELL are you). Daniella’s voice did not seem too pleased from the other end of Carla’s flipphone. “Don’t tell me you took that malido siete otraves!” (Damn seven again).

Carla quickly covered the phone as she hurried passed somewhat drunk catcallers, up the uneven, iron and trash ridden staircase of the subway. “Dani, I’m sorry but the other trains are delayed, only one runnin is the seven.” She smiled quickly getting on the platform.

“Aye padre santos.” Daniella groaned, “just be careful, ok? I don’t want to turn on my tv and find out that you’re on the news.”

“Oh I’ll be on the news? What for? Will I win something? Like Family Feud.”

“No you’re going to win, where the hell did Carla go, I dunno she was last seen taking the damn 7 train to the ghettos.”

Carla pursed her lips a little, “Daniiii, I don’t think there is a game like that on tv.”

“Muchacha, pay attention to the train, call me when you’re walking home, ok?” Carla could hear Daniella sigh into the phone; she could almost hear her pinch the bridge of her nose too. With soft goodbyes and Carla closed her phone and waited under the dim, orangey subway lights.

Nights in the city were beautiful in a somber way. Things were grayscaled once dusk hit. Everything was a muted color, with a few splashes of bright lights off cars and traffic signals. It was a sea of muddled browns and gray, an ugly background with electric pops of color that brought the nightlife to life. The seven train was a good place to see it all, the brick and iron that rose up from the concrete jungle. Once the seven train left Manhattan it was above ground giving Carla the view of Queens. A flat borough in comparison to the towers of Manhattan and the brick palaces of Brooklyn but it was home to Carla.

The train, as always, stopped at Queensborough Plaza. And as always, it was nearly vacant. Carla almost missed it, but the moment she looked up she noticed a figure sitting on the outer, iron support beams of the train station. “Pete?” Carla blinked then shot up, narrowly getting caught between the closing doors, she squeezed past with all her curls intact. She drew closer, wobbling on her high wedges as she made her way over to the far railing of the subway. She looked down and Carla felt her face grow pale.

What a drop.

“Pete, that you?” She knew that cueball head anywhere, his headphones stuck in his ears as he just stared out. Pensive, even in the dark his expression was still gloomy enough for Carla to take some notice. “Y-You know it’s a little dangerous to be sitting up on the beam like this? I know you’re into that hardcore stuff but I don’t think you’ll do ok if you fall.” Carla spoke shakily keeping her legs as far from the edge as possible. “Pete can you hear me?”

No answer, Pete kept looking forward; his eyes fixated on a building that was just a little too dark for Carla to make out clear enough. With a small nudge of her wedged foot, she poked Pete’s arm and caused him to jerk so hard he shifted off the far side of the beam and pulled his body up so he was standing, the back of his heels dangling dangerously off the edge. “What?” He snapped at Carla, who’s face immediately fell a bit. “…what are you doing here, Carla?” He hissed, taking the headphones out of his ears.

“I was going home when I noticed you were just sittin there like some gargoyle.”

“Yea…I’m not really feeling up to going back to my place.”

“Or the shelter?” Carla knew Pete’s home life wasn’t stable. He left and came back frequently, more often than not he stayed in city run shelters.

Pete shook his head a bit, “not feeling it.”

“Not feeling Sonny either?” He didn’t respond, he looked away, debating whether or not to stick the headphone back in his ears. “You know if something happened, if he did something…”

“Sonny didn’t do nothing.” Pete huffed, “just…something came up…its dumb.”

“Not too dumb, you’ve been leaving Sonny on read.” Carla’s point to the obvious made him cringe. “You know Sonny is real sensitive, whatever is buggin you is buggin’ him, and if it’s buggin him then its buggin Usnavi and if its buggin him its buggin Benny, then Nina, Vannesa, Daniella, then—“

“I get it, I get it!” Pete yelled a little angrier than he liked to be. “The whole fucking barrio is wondering what’s my deal but its stupid no one will get it.”

“Try me.”

Pete paused for a second, and then looked up at the various, criss crossing support beams that framed the upground train platform. “Can you climb?”

“Um…I guess, I use to climb those rocks in Central Park when I was a kid…like once.”

“If you wanna know…you gotta be able to see it….” Pete held a hand out to Carla.

“You…want me to scale the side of a train station platform? Are you…nuts?”

Pete didn’t say a word, he kept his hand out for her as Carla deliberated. With a small huff she kicked off her wedges and took Pete’s hand. The surprisingly strong grip guided her around the iron beam until she was hanging off the outside, very aware that dropping from here was most certain death. “You know if I die, Daniella will kill you.”

“You’re not gonna die, there is a ladder right here that construction uses to fix up the seven.” Pete laughed, as did Carla. It was common Queens knowledge the seven was never truly ‘fixed’ it was a dying line barely chugging along. Keeping her close, Pete helped Carla shimmy across a small strip of metal towards the ladder and began to climb up. Her thin arms shook by the time she got to the top. “Like the view?”

“Oh my…god…Pete…” Carla’s eyes lit up as they stood at the top of the train station, overlooking several buildings. The lights that danced off the windows of the apartments, streetlights were glowing but most importantly, there were large, spot lights all pointing up at a large yellow building.

There was graffiti all over the building, really all over it. It looked abandoned but still so…alive? The function of it was clear, it was living and growing canvas. The original yellow paint of the building poked out between art pieces from armature tags of gang names and signs to pieces of memorials to Biggie Smalls and Tupac. There were images and symbols, from works that were dated and began to melt into the yellow to newer, clearer pieces that stood out vibrantly. Every inch of the building was a work of art, even spots that seemed humanly impossible to reach had a piece. “I know this building; I pass it a few times…It’s a school right?” Carla spoke but couldn’t tear her eyes off it. IT was like no matter where her eyes glanced there was something newto see, another artwork lurking like the most amazing game of I-Spy yet.

“Nah it was a water factory in the 70s, but never came to be. Local taggers started getting to the place until finally in the 90s’ some guy bought it up and never did anything with it. Some of the best Graffiti artists come here. 5 Pointz…from all 5 boroughs.” Pete smiled looking over the building. “First time I saw it…I was 4…maybe 5…my mom and I walked passed this HUGE building and I saw a couple of guys taggin it. They were just writing their names but…their name was right next to some of the greats. Tracy 168, Cope 2, Dan Plasma. They took back the name “vandal” and coined aerosol artist…”

Carla watched the small smile grace Pete’s lips. Pete had no mentor, no artist teacher, he was a student of the city. Of the Urban culture, and she could almost make out in her head a small bald Pete spying on the big time artists. Watching what they did, copying them until he could hold a can. The City was his teacher and for an artist this was the biggest canvas in all of New York. “Did ya ever get to tag anything on there? Maybe we can see it from here.”  Carla squinted her eyes and tried to spy a Peter Ospina original.

“No.” He declared coolly, exhaling deeply from his flared nostrils. “Never got the chance…I’ve been thinking about what I’d put there…nothing ever felt good enough so I practiced for years and…” He motioned to the otherside of the building where bulldozers were parked menacingly around the side.

“…Oh…Pete…”

“They’re tearing it down. The city is tearing down one of the oldest…most urban form of expression. This is a god damn symbol of New York and-and they’re tearing it down like its nothing!” Pete held out his arm in exasperation. “They’re building apartments no one can afford to live in instead.”

Carla felt the anger roll off Pete’s body. She couldn’t lie…she was angry too. “So that night…”

“I was walking Sonny to the train and I saw construction crew filing up I knew…I just had to see for myself and I didn’t want to believe it…” Pete pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes and squeezed with so much pressure, Carla feared his eyes would pop into his sockets. “I know its dumb…I shouldn’t be this mad but…I haven’t been able to let it go…how could they tear this all down? They’re erasing us…whether it’s the latinos and blacks in the ghetto, or the Asians in Chinatown…even the Jews by the Waterfront. Where are we going? Where will we end up? Who's going ’o remember us when the city is white and covered in glass…in buildings to high up they can’t even see out their own asses…”

Pete’s breathing got irregular as his annoyance of his nostalgic building posed more existential worries inside of him.

“It sucks this gonna be gone…” Carla began softly, her eyes looking it over once more. She was happy…Pete shared this with her. She …understood what he meant. It was bigger than just a building full of forgotten art work. It was a statement being whited out and taken off the narrative only to be written over. “But it won’t be gone-gone.” She glanced at Pete. “There won’t be another 5 pointz, but I mean think of all the greats who’ll never know this place? There are other…pointz out there. And you? Pete you’ll carry this place no matter where you go. You remembering this, keeps this alive just like the people who remember us keep us …alive.”

Pete hung his head a little; her words were chipping away at his attitude slowly but surely.

“When my parents kicked me out…I was all alone on the streets. Who was going to remember me? Poor Carla just another statistic of girls being kicked out of the house. Poor Carla will probably end up being a baby mama with no job…poor Carla…can’t go back home so who’s going to care when she’s not around.” She twiddled her thumbs a little. “There is a reason why I always say I’m from Queens…”She muttered softly. “No one would have remembered me if I didn’t find Dani’s salon and begged for a job. And now?” Her hand gently patted Pete’s shoulder. “I got people who wait for me, people who call me, people who will remember me.”

His eyes darted up at Carla who was staring right back at him with a smile. “You sharing this with me? Keeps it alive…keeps you alive…I’ll never forget this.”

They sat there for a long moment, taking in every piece possible trying to ingrain every nuance of color into their minds. Finally Pete stood up slowly and opened his phone. He typed fast, and fumbled a bit making some typos but didn’t bother to fix them. He sent the text and nodded. “Thanks Carla.”

“For what?” She slowly stood up with him, being careful not to fall off the top of the station. She went for the ladder hastily, clinging to the iron bars for dear life.

“For keeping this alive…there…um, there might be someone else I gotta show this to…”

“Oh who?” The curlycued woman waited for Pete to begin climbing down the faded, brown industrial ladder before following.

“Let’s just say I hope Sonny is good at climbing” Pete chuckled slowly scaling down the ladder behind Carla.

[machihunnicutt]

Small Hot Chocolate, No Whip (Chapter 3)

(Or read on ao3.)

Chapter 3: Connor

When Connor arrived on Evan's doorstep Friday evening he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd chosen the entirely wrong outfit. Zoe's showcase was a semi-formal occasion (a fact which he informed Evan of via text to ease his mind.) Connor had never felt entirely comfortable dressing up. Dressing up brought up memories of agonizing family gatherings that included torturous amounts of sitting silently or smiling and nodding to strangers. He had a black suit jacket and white dress shirt on. A tie wasn't happening, neither were dress pants since he looked passable in dark jeans. He was being a bit of a baby about it. It was a good distraction from his nerves surrounding his totally not a crush on Evan Hansen.

He knocked on the door and fiddled with his collar.

"Connor Murphy I presume?"

The guy in front of him was wearing a t-shirt and khaki pants and stared at him through a pair of smudged glasses.

"You must be Evan's roommate Jared. It's nice to meet you." Connor put on his friendliest smile and hoped it didn't look too stiff.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Nice to finally meet the infamous Connor Murphy."

"Infamous?" Connor felt his palms sweat.

Jared's expression softened "Dude, I'm kidding. Come on in. Evan's just finishing getting ready."

Connor stood awkwardly in the hallway and Jared called up the stairs that he was here.

"Hey, seriously though," Jared began, walking over to the fridge and pulling a soda out of it. "He's...Evan's fragile. So don't mess with him or anything," Jared looked at him seriously. Evan hadn't said much about his roommate apart from the fact that they'd known each other since elementary school and that he had an odd sense of humor.

"I wasn't planning on it," he said. "We're just friends," He added because of the look Jared was giving him.

Jared nodded. "In any case he's sensitive. He's great but he's sensitive," Jared took a long sip of his Mountain Dew. "And he's my best friend so..."

"Of course," Connor said. "I'd never fuck with him or anything. I'm not...I know I don't look it but I'm not like that."

"Don't tell him I told you any of that though," Jared muttered. Connor nodded, trying to hide his smile. Jared Kleinman seemed like the kind of guy who cared a lot but pretended not to.

"Hey Connor!" Evan shouted from upstairs. "C-could you come up here for a second?"

Jared waggled his eyebrows. "Second door on the right."

"Thanks."

Evan's stairs creaked. He knocked on the door and Evan opened it immediately. "Do I look okay?" He said, voice leaping up an octave. He stepped back and motioned for him to come in. "I don't usually dress up so I was worried."

Evan's room was small: white walls with a poster with a picture of a forest and another with a world map his bed was unmade and covered in clothes and discarded hangers. His desk in the corner was cluttered with books and dirty coffee mugs.

"S-sorry it's such a mess."

"I like it," Connor said, grinning. He wondered what Evan would think of his room. That train of thought didn't seem healthy for ridding himself of his crush so he stopped. "And I like your outfit." Evan was in a blue button up and navy jacket that looked a little too small on him.

"Are you s-sure? Because I can change. It's not a big deal if I..."

"You look great Evan," he said. Evan blushed and looked down.

"Is Italian okay?"

"W-what?"

"For dinner? Is that okay?"  Connor stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

"Yeah, y-yeah that's great."

"Because if you'd rather go somewhere else it's fine." Damn, was he always this sweaty?

"No. It's not that," he blurted. "I'm just a little nervous."

"Don't be. You've got me.

"Okay," Evan said. "Cool, okay," he repeated.

"Okay," Connor laughed. "You ready to go?"

The restaurant had mood lighting. He wasn't that hungry but he stuffed his face with chicken alfredo to avoid staring at Evan Hansen like a lovestruck idiot.

Evan ate his eggplant parmesan like it was the best thing he'd ever eaten. He got some sauce on the corner of his mouth and Connorwaited awhile before he told him because he knew it was going to embarrass him.

Connor insisted on paying the bill, citing rich parents when Evan protested. They arrived at the showcase early. The performers were all lined up in the first three rows. Zoe sat in the third row, Alana behind her in the first row of general seating. Connor led Evan over to them.

"Evan this is Alana. Alana, Evan," he said. Evan smiled at her and extended a shaking hand. Connor wondered where Evan Hansen felt truly comfortable. He wanted to go somewhere where Evan's hands didn't shake and his voice was even and laced with honey sweet happiness.

"Nice to meet you Evan," Alana said. "I'm glad you came." Zoe turned around to smile at him too and repeated the sentiment.

"I'm third," she said, shifting the guitar that was balanced between her knees. Zoe was studying classical guitar at the moment, though it wasn't exactly her speed. She had been practicing a Spanish piece for the showcase in their living room. Connor knew she was kind of nervous but she was good at hiding it.

"You're going to do great," he said quietly, and the look on her face melted into something more genuine.

"Don't get all weird and brother-y on me dude."

"They've got refreshments in the back Alana said helpfully, getting up herself. I'm going to check with the camera guy and make sure everything's set up." This was a typical Alana intervention.

"Do you want something to drink Evan?"

"S-sure."

He watched Zoe and Evan from across the room as he grabbed two plastic cups of fruit punch. They were talking about something and Evan was blushing. He'd have to ask Zoe about it later.

The first performer was a saxophonist. He was quite good. Evan was leaning forward in interest. The next act was a ballet routine with several students from the dance program. Evan really liked that, he shifted over, shoulder brushing up against Connor's as he craned to see the whole stage. He looked over at him. His face was open and his eyes were shining. He bet Evan Hansen would be nice to kiss, especially if he looked like that. Stop it Murphy I swear to god.

Zoe took the stage and there was a moment of quiet as she collected herself, fingers poised over the strings. She looked at peace. Connorwas glad she'd decided to double major because though she wanted a job in psychology, she never looked happier than when she was surrounded by music. Her playing was effortless. Evan turned to him halfway through and just grinned. Alana was the first to start clapping when she finished. Connor whistled and Zoe shot him a look.

"That was great," Evan said as they walked out. Zoe and Alana had gone to grab a late dinner.

"It was," he agreed. "Do you want to get milkshakes?" He asked. It was getting kind of late but he didn't want the night to end.

"Absolutely," he said, more enthusiastically than he'd ever heard him. They went through the drive through at Dairy Queen. Connor got chocolate Evan got peanut butter. He turned up the radio and sipped as he drove. He stole glances at Evan at the ref lights. Once Evan caught him staring and instead of being weirded out or looking away he laughed, loud and breathless. Connor Murphy could fall in love with that laugh.

"Do you know how to dance Evan?" He asked hesitantly.

"N-no why do you ask?"

"No reason, it just seemed like you really liked the dancing."

Evan blushed again. "I did. I'm too clumsy for anything like that though."

"I took tap lessons from elementary to 8th grade," he admitted.

"Really? That's super cool."

Connor shrugged. "If you say so. You don't dance? Not even swaying? What did you do at prom?"

"I didn't go."

"Oh." He bit the inside of his mouth the way he always did when he'd said something really stupid. "I didn't either." He had been in the hospital getting his wrists stitched up during prom. He sucked in a breath "I uh...I'm kind of a loser. In case you hadn't realized."

"I don't think you're a loser," Evan said. "And if you are then I am too and we can be losers together."

Connor laughed. He didn't laugh a lot in high school. Most jokes were at his expense and he didn't even have loser friends to joke around with.

They pulled up in Evan's driveway and climbed the stairs to his porch. Jared had evidently left the light on for them.

"Hey Evan." He was feeling reckless.

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna dance?"

"I-I told you. I c-can't dance."

"I'll show you, here." He reached out and took Evan's hand, guiding the other to his waist. "Just pretend there's music okay?"

"O-okay." They swayed slowly. Connor pulled him close and he smelled like lemon and lavender. After a second he started to hum. Evan laughed again. "I'm gonna step on your feet Con," he said.

"Con?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh...uh I'm sorry I..."

"Don't be," he said for what felt like the millionth time. He didn't mind. "You're my friend. I like nicknames."

Evan was looking at him funny, head tilted to one side. "Do you want to come in?"

Connor stole a glance at his watch. It was nearly 11:30. "You're sure?"

"It's fine is you just want to go home," he said quickly.

"No, no it's cool. It's just late. But if it's fine with you it's fine with me."

"We could um...watch a movie if you want? Have you seen Billy Elliot?"

Why did he have to be so fucking cute?

"You really like dancing don't you? I have but let's watch it anyway."

He didn't realize how fucked he was until he woke up on Evan Hansen's couch the next morning. His vision was blurry for a minute and he pushed his tangled hair out of his eyes before he realized that Evan was quite literally in his lap. He was fast asleep and Connor realized he was going to be late for work.

"Evan! You want toast?" Jared called from the kitchen. Evan woke with a start, head shooting up and nearly knocking his head on Connor's.

"Uh, yeah, okay!" He called back. "Shit I'm so sorry I fell asleep," he whispered harshly, turning to him.

Connor was disoriented for a second by Evan's cursing and the drool on his face. "It's okay," he said dumbly. "It's my fault too I shouldn't have..."

"How did things go with coffee boy? Did you profess your undying love?" Jared yelled from the kitchen.

Evan turned bright red. "Jared shut up please!"

"I should go. I'm going to be late for work so..."

"Yeah, definitely I-I'll see you later."

"Thanks for last night Hansen. I'll text you."

He bolted before Jared could see him.

***

It was the first of what turned out to be many movie nights. The next time they had it at Connor's place and watched the original Star Wars trilogy and ate Chinese food on his couch. Zoe sat with them for a little while and ended up going on about how Connor had a giant crush on Luke Skywalker when he was little. He shushed her before Evan laughed too hard.

They made it a weekly thing, switching off between their houses. Connor texted him every day and they ate lunch together whenever Evan came to the shop.

He walked him home in the snow a couple of times. Once he forgot his gloves and Evan offered him his. Before Connor could stop him he reached out for his hands to put him on him. He pushed his sleeves to see his wrists. Evan saw the scars he'd been carefully trying to hide for the month and a half they'd known each other. His heart was in his throat. Connor finished putting on the gloves and didn't meet his eyes.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Hey...um, can we stop for a second?"

Connor stopped. His boots were old and let in the cold. If they stopped for too long his feet might freeze off. He turned to look at him.

"Look," he muttered. "I don't like to..."

"You remember when you asked about how I broke my arm?" Evan asked. His face was pale despite the cold and his eyebrows were furrowed.

"Yeah." He rubbed his wrist. Sometimes his scars itched when he thought about them too much.

"I didn't want to talk about it either. I um...my senior year things were really bad and I climbed a really tall tree and uh...I kind of let go and fell. I thought I was high enough up that I would die. My senior year I broke my arm trying to kill myself."

"Evan..."

"So you don't have to be embarrassed and I won't be weird about it. You're my friend. And I don't want secrets between us when there don't have to be." Evan fumbled for Connor's hand and took it in his own. His jaw was tight and his bottom lip wobbled like he was going to cry.

"I think you're really nice Connor Murphy."

"It was two and a half years ago Hansen. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" He sniffled. Fuck, he was crying.

"Evan I meant it I'm..."

"I don't know what I'd do if you were gone Con. I just don't know what I'd do." His breathing was sharp and Connor leaned in to hug him before he could stop himself. He held him tight, burying his face in his neck.

"I'm sorry. If I could go back I'd change it. I'm sorry Evan. I don't know what I'd do if you were gone either."

Connor's feet were frozen. His chest felt hot. He hadn't really talked about the scars lining his wrists with anyone outside of Zoe and his therapist. He'd come close with his mom but they weren't quite there. It hadn't been that long ago when he really thought about it.

"We should go. I'm cold," he said.

"Do you wanna come over and talk a little?" Evan asked.

"Yeah."

***

"Okay bro we need to talk," Zoe leaned on the counter and stared him down as he tried to cook dinner.

"About what pray tell?"

"Small hot chocolate no whip."

"Fuck you."

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel? All you two do is stare at each other lovingly."

"He has a crush on you remember?" Connor poked at the scrambled eggs in his pan with a spatula. It was breakfast for dinner night. "I don't want to talk about it," he said sharply.

"Do you think maybe you jumped to conclusions? I mean he never said he..."

"I said I didn't want to talk about it Zoe."

"I know you don't like putting yourself out there but..." He turned around to look at her. "You deserve to be happy Connor. That sounds dumb but sometimes I feel like you don't know that."

"The eggs are done."

"Think about it."

He didn't want to think about it. He wanted it to go away.

A week later Evan came over to make cookies with him: peanut butter because it was Evan's favorite. He had dough on his nose and Connor couldn't stop laughing.

Evan read the next step and yawned. He was looking a little more haggard lately. Finals were coming up and though Connor was able to balance work, studying, and sleep, Evan clearly wasn't.

"Hey, do you want to take a nap or something you look really tired?"

"I'm fine," he snapped in a way that didn't seem fine at all.

"I just don't want you to wear yourself out."

"I said I was fine," he said, rolling a ball of dough furiously. "I'm tired of people asking me that. No one thinks I can handle myself. Everyone thinks I'm a pathetic loser who can't handle college."

"I didn't say anything close to that Ev I just think you should get some sleep."

"Why, cause you know so much better than I do? Last time I checked we were both friendless freaks who thought it was better to off themselves than stick it out!"

"Evan..." He felt numb for a second. His ears started ringing. In front of him Evan paled.

"Con I'm sorry I didn't mean..."

"Get out."

"Connor I..."

"Get the fuck out Evan I can't do this right now."

Evan fell silent. He grabbed his coat and left. The oven beeped to let him know the oven was preheated. For the first time in a long time he broke down and sobbed.

His wrists burned.

[backtothestart02]

part || whom are the first ships (any show u watch) you think of that had/have potential to be interesting/have interesting arcs but unfortunately didn’t pull through whether it due to one half being written off or ooc or their characters not interacting as much?

Oh man. Interesting ask, Anon. Imma just think of all my ships that were short-lived or ended for stupid reasons or just lost their spark due to one (or both) of them becoming OOC.1) Dan & Serena (Gossip Girl)This ship was IT for me from the very beginning. They sparked in the pilot and I was rooting for them the whole way through. (I mean, when Chuck & Blair came along, DS lost their #1 slot as OTP, but I still rly loved them.) GG is nothing if not dramatic, but the lengths the writers went to to pull DS apart were unreal. When Dan became a total ass in s5 & more or less STAYED that way till the end of the series, and Serena had no problem forgiving him & jumping onto the bandwagon? WAY too rushed. SUPER OOC. I was glad they were endgame b/c they were my first ship of the show, but like...terrible writing that could've been done SO MUCH BETTER.2) Rumple & Belle (OUAT)Omg!!! I loved this ship so so much!! It was never #1, but it was ALWAYS #2. The story was so great, and they had chem. It was wonderful. When he finally found redemption mid-s3, it was heartbreaking but beautiful. That was the height for Rumple though, b/c from that moment on he started to regress & continued to regress for the next 3 seasons. He kinda sorta figured things out the right way by the end of the latest season - convenient since Belle wasn't brought back on after that except for one episode. But like...MESS.3) Neal & Emma (OUAT)They were PERFECT. He legit was killed off so she wouldn't have to choose btwn him & Hook who she was going to be with. But wow, these two had so much potential. I would go down with that ship.4) Ivy & Max (Gossip Girl)No one cared about this ship either, lmao, b/con one cared about Ivy. But I loved them. They were sweet & so great. And then she left him to stay w/ a family that wasn't her own but pretended like she was & he became pissed & turned into a villain. Eventually he left town & at the end of the serious she was officially rejected from everyone. So they never reconciled & we never saw him again & I just feel so...ripped off. B/c I loved them.5) Stefan & Katherine (TVD)I loved them. There was the hint that something could happen in the present. And if she hadn't been like...on death's door, maybe something could have. But then she possessed his other first love & he killed her so said girl could come back & then they like...died together in the series finale, but only so he could make sure she'd rly die. So...not romantic at all. And then he spent the afterlife w/ his bestie & then his brother. Such an opportunity...WASTED!!!I still don't know if I answered this the way you wanted. 😂😂😂 But this is what I have to offer you. Lol.

[ilvoloflightcrew]

  “I just called, to say, I love you…”♥♥♥♥

We love you, from the Flight Crew!

(Thank you to Kristine Kelly for the photo from the PBS 2016 meet/greet!)

Ciao Ignazio. We wish you so much happiness on your Birthday. Your voice and personality charm everyone. We appreciate all your hard work and dedication to developing that fabulous voice of yours. You have grown so much since we first saw you on American Idol and have been devoted ever since. We saw you in Minneapolis this year and immediately made arrangements to see you in Rome in May. I came in my wheelchair with my little service dog. It was the most amazing celebration of our 50th wedding anniversary. We cannot thank you enough for all you are giving to the world. America loves you. Blessings to you and also Gianluca and Piero for working so hard to spread your love everywhere. May you have many happy Birthdays.  ~~ Dr. Jay and Victoria Wilson

Ciao, dear Ignazio, I am sending sincere, loving Happy Birthday wishes to you. May you enjoy a splendid day at home with your family and dear Alessandra!! Thank you from my heart for your wonderful voice, beautiful music, and kindness you always show to your fans…including me. ♥ I am one of the many Nonna’s, who love you, especially in the U.S. Thank you for helping me stand steadily at the Opera House in Chicago last March. Looking forward to another U.S. Concert!!! Success and blessings abound for you in your future, dear Ignazio!!! ♥Harriett from Illinois U.S.A.

Happy Birthday to Ignazio the sweetest man I have ever known. God has blessed you with the most handsomest smile that lights up my day when watching videos of you singing or if I see you on stage. I am so glad I discovered Il Volo 8 or so years ago. I have had the pleasure of listening to your solos & singing with your brothers. I hope you have the best Birthday ever with your friends & your brothers & if Alessandra is traveling with you or if your get home. You are constantly in my prayers that God keeps you safe in your travels. I always remember you coming off the stage to see if I got back to Toronto safely from the concert the day before a few years ago. You are a class act to this fan. Sending you loads of love. Love you & always in my prayers. Looking forward to the next concert. Please take good care of yourself. Loretta from Toronto

Best wishes for a wonderful birthday that you will be able to spend with your family and friends. Thank you so much for the pleasure that your wonderful voice has brought to us all over the years. Enjoy your special day. Marion Ferrari, Florida. USA

Happy Birthday, dear Ignazio! You and Piero and Gianluca have enriched my life so much since I first saw and heard you in Detroit on my public TV station here in Milwaukee. You have grown into a handsome, caring, full of life and terrific young man. And that voice!! Stay happy, enjoy your special day and I wish you the best all your life. I was lucky to see you in Milwaukee in 2014. PLEASE come back here soon.

Carol

For Ignazio: Wish you a wonderful HAPPY BIRTHDAY.  You, your music, your voice are my Grande Amore.

LOVE,  Liz Vines

Ignazio, Have a happy, happy birthday. So nice you will be celebrating your birthday at home this year with your loved ones. I want to thank you for all joy you have brought me over the years. I have been a big fan of Il Volo since 2011. I have watched you mature into a wonderful person. You have worked hard to reach your success and deserve every good thing that has happened to you. Have a wonderful birthday…you deserve it!! I can’t wait for your next American tour.  ~~ Sharon Mullarkey

Ignazio ~ auguri per il tuo compleanno e potrai avere molti felici ritorni di questo importante giorno nella tua vita. Vorrei anche ringraziarvi per aver condiviso il vostro bel canto con tutti noi di godere. Da Ineke in Sud Africa.

Dear Ignazio, I am so grateful for all the happy times you have brought me and thousands of others over the years since you came to our attention when you were only fourteen. We could not have dreamt how wonderful life would be for the three of you. With your sunny personality you have amazing years ahead of you. I wish you the happiest of birthdays and many, many years of splendid celebrations. With love from Vancouver Island – Lesley Newall.

Happy birthday. May you year be fill with happiness. You bring happiness to me with your beautiful voice.  ~~ Janet Pilkington

Hey Amazing One, have the best birthday ever. (And amazingly they probably will just get better each year with more and more fans wishing you happy wonderful things!). Sharon (from Detroit)

Dear Ignazio It is hard to believe I have been watching you and listening to you for 9 years! Every year has brought more and more pleasure as you have matured and expanded your capabilities and repertoire. I love listening and watching you every day! May all your dreams come true. Wishing you every happiness on your birthday. (and please come back to Toronto!) Penina Honig, Toronto

Ignazio, I couldn’t let Hurricane Irma stop me from wishing you a very Happy Birthday and many, many more. Alice in Florida

Dear Ignazio, have a wonderful birthday, filled with love, family, friends, and fans. We love you. ~~ Linda P.

AUGURI BUON COMPLEANNO IGNA BEAUTIFUL DAY~~ Louise Hemert

Happy Birthday Ignazio!  Hope you come back to Boston Mass very soon!  We missed you!  I love your voice.  Have a wonderful day!  — Rosemary Westgate

Happy birthday Ignazio. Hope you have the greatest of days and may God bless you ~~ Teresa Carosi

Dear. Ignazio. Buon. Compleanno. Have. A. Wonderful. Birthday. And. Many. More. We. Love. You ~~ Jean Leto

Ignazio – have a wonderful birthday ~~ Camille Greco

Dear Ignazio, Thank you for all of the smiles, giggles and laughs with which you have gifted us. Thank you for the thoughtfulness, enthusiasm, passion and honesty in your performances. Thank you for the love you show to others in large and small ways. Thank you for sharing your wonderful talent with us. May you have a wonderful birthday and a blessed year. Sincerely, Jeanette Hicks

Lieber Ignazio,

die allerherzlichsten Glückwünsche zum Geburtstag ! 😙🎂🥂🎉🎁

  Ich wünsche dir Gesundheit, viel Freude und Erfolg bei deinen Projekten und gemeinsam mit Gianluca und Piero.

  Alles Liebe aus Deutschland

          von Paula Schneider 🙋‍♀️

BUON COMPLEANNO IGNAZIO!!!

23 ANNI!

 ti diverti con la tua famiglia e con i tuoi amici 

Ti vogliamo bene,

Angelica, Ines and Miguel Rosas

 Las Vegas, NV

Ignazio, Happiest of birthdays to you today!  May all of your wishes and dreams fill your heart with joy! Much love, Big birthday hugs, A fan from Arizona, Barbara A.  🎈🎂🎈❤️

Sue Hemshell

Carissimo Ignazio,

che dire, tu hai tutto,

sei un’artista incredibile,

hai un grande seguito di fans che ti adorano,

sei bello, dolce, affascinante, responsabile

  hai una famiglia che ti protegge

  e una giovane e bella donna che ti ama.

  La vita ti sorride e tu sorridi a lei ,

  salute e amore non ti manchino mai.

  La tua voce si alzi sempre gioiosa e pura

  e faccia sognare tutte noi che ti vogliamo tanto bene.

               A  U  G  U  R  I  ………………Daniela

BUON COMPLEANNO,  IGNAZIO !!!  ~~ Jean Haines

Buon Compleano, dear Ignazio! 23 anni!

I met you for the first time in March at your Chicago concert and got a birthday hug from you as my birthday was only two days before.

Now I am wishing YOU the best of birthdays with your family and friends. I hope you have a great day!

I can’t wait to see you in person again and hear your beautiful voice. I just may have to fly to Italy next time!

Auguri é molto amore,  Patricia W. (pitterpat0) from Missouri

“Happy Birthday“ Ignazio.  I hope you all come back to the United States in 2018.  ~~ Rose Bilotta

 OCTOBER 4,  2017 

I wish you a HAPPY BIRTHDAY  IGNAZIO..  You show your gift of singing talent is not for yourself alone, but as an instrument of joy and hope to give to the rest of humanity.   I believe you respect the dignity and worth of others.  HAPPY 23rd BIRTHDAY to a delightful young man.  May God bless you today and for a lifetime.  Gale Wall

Ignazio, I wish you a year of… Soaring Joy Amazing Accomplishments Great Gratitude And Knowing you are Deeply Loved! All this I’ve already sent from My Heart to Yours! And of course, all of this already IS YOU! Loving awe from Jeanine

  It’s Party Time!!

Twenty three years ago a Star was born who would become our treasured Ignazio.  Hope you never change and stay the way you are.  You are always entertaining. making us sigh, smile or laugh.

Happy Birthday Darlin’.  Sending hugs, kisses and wishes for a great day with all your friends and loved ones.

Luv Ya,

Julie Bernache

Happy birthday wishes for a wonderful day…especially, enjoying your birthday  at home with family and all your loved ones!

Additionally, congratulations for continuing to stretch your musical muscles by learning to conduct an orchestra.  I am so proud of you!  You continue to grow and become even more musically talented with each passing year.  Hugs!

Sandi Eyman

Flight Crew member from Ohio🎂🎶

Best wishes from one Libra to another love you 🎶💕  ~~ Maureen Perucca

Happy, Happy Birthday Dear Ignazio. You are such a sweet young man. Enjoy your day to the fullest. You definitely deserve it. 🎂🎉🎊🎁💙💙🎂 ~~ Maria Marques

Hi!  Ignazio.    A great big Happy Birthday from the Las Vegas team –

Myron and Jeannette from the

Las Vegas  Il  Volo  Fan

Faire

Myron Heaton & Jeannette Giglio

  Buon Compleanno Ignazio!! Wow, you are turning 23!! You have already accomplished so much in your young life, and I am sure that there will be many more successes in your future. I have attended several concerts and you always leave your fans wanting more not only for your beautiful voice but for your infectious personality when on stage. You are a “Package of Perfection.”  Your smile says it all! Love my picture from M&G Notte  Magica Concert in Miami🤗 Tanti Auguri Annette Naples, Fl ❤️❤️

Dear Ignazio, I wish you the most joyful of birthdays spent with your family and loved ones. I will be thinking of you on your special day with love and gratitude for you for your beautiful music, your beautiful heart and your beautiful soul. Listening to you and Piero and Gianluca transports me to the most peaceful serene place each and every time I hear your gorgeous voices. May you enjoy every happiness in your personal and professional life and may God bless you and your brothers and keep you in the palm of His hand always. Love and blessings Margaret D. Mirailh

I HAVE ENJOYED “IL VOLO” AT CONCERTS IN LOS ANGELES AND LAS VEGAS. ALL THREE YOUNG MEN ARE VERY TALENTED. WHEN I HEAR IGNAZIO, PIERO, AND GIANLUCA SING IT IS TRULY A BEAUTIFUL DAY. I WISH “IL VOLO” ALL OF MY LOVE.

                                      HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO…..

                                         IGNAZIO…..

Edward Hawkins

Dear Ignazio.  Wishing you a very special  23rd birthday. I hope your day is filled with love and happiness .  Your beautiful voice is such a gift , and one that I hope to be able to listen for many years to come.  You and your Il Volo brothers touch my heart and always make me smile. Blessings on you as you begin another successful year your life. Janet San Francisco, California

  Happy Birthday Ignazio!

 I wish you a year filled with love, joy, peace and much happiness!

 “Una Notte Magica” was just that!  Love all the songs, and I am so grateful to have seen you, Piero and Gianluca in Easton and at Radio City Music Hall in March.  The concerts were wonderful and you all were perfect. Hopefully you can make some visits to the US in 2018, and I know we can look forward to more beautiful music!

Thank you for all the joy and love you give. Love and blessings to all!

Margaret Ladolcetta

-THE VERY BEST WISHES FROM GINA IN TEXAS-

I WISH YOU THE BEST ALWAYS AND FOREVER. ENJOY YOUR DAY. LOTS OF LOVE LINDA

Ignazio,  Can You Feel the Love Tonight for all the Little Things you do for us? You make me Smile when you sing.  I hope you have a Beautiful Day, Buon Compleano,  Eternally yours, 

  Rose Marie Paliobeis, Cleveland, Ohio

Ignazio,

Hard to believe it’s time to wish you Happy Birthday once again. As one who has witnessed your professional growth for several years now, the best I can wish for you is even more of the brilliant success you have earned.

Buon Compleanno, my dear young man. 🎂

~Marie Crider

🎈🎀💌🎂✈

Happy Birthday, Ignazio!You light up our world with your beautiful smile and superb voice.   I wish you a year of fun, love, and pure joy.  The kind you give to others so freely. Sincerely, Jane from Minnesota

Caro Ignazio,   Buon Compleanno!!   23 annos!!   Tanti Aguri Have a wonderful Day!!  You will “Be On The Road Again” for your Special Day!!  Enjoy it with your Musical Family!!  Ignazio, I love all your music!!   Your wonderful tenor voice gets better & better!!  Any of your songs give me many emotions & happiness!! This year is sure to bring many more honors & awards fullfilling more of your musical goals & dreams!! Notte Magica is a magnificent tribute to The Three Tenors!!!  Thank you for being so sweet & charming to me when we meet!! That is who your are. A talented, humorous, gracious, loving, precious young man whose  love of music is his life!! Again, let me thank your wonderful Parents for sharing their cherished son with the World!!    Amore, Nonna Anne

May your guardian angels keep you from all harm that you may find on your flight. You have become a beautiful swan, your voice developed to be more stunning every year, bringing joy in so many lives. It’s a soothing, and quickening delight. Thank you for all the hard work, strength and endurance, your family and the crew are going through since 2009, to achieve this perfection. Thank you, Igna, grazie i molti baci, from Astrid from Bavaria, who met you this year on the train track from Düsseldorf to Hamburg!

    Dearest Ignazio as you turn “23” I am thankful that you came into my life as an adorable 14 year old and are still in my life today enchanting me with your magnificent voice, big heart, captivating smile and playful amore della vita !! You make me and millions of other Il Volovers all around the world very happy everyday !! You will be home for your birthday this year so have a beautiful day with your family, friends and your lovely sweetheart Alessandra !! Happy “23rd ” Birthday All My Love, Joan Brenin

Peace and Happiness today and always and may the Good Lord grant you so many more wonderful birthdays!  God bless you!

Margaret Camilleri Pace

Tanti Auguri, Ignazio!!  Happy 23rd!

The Detroit Il Volo Gals!

Jana/Virginia/Emilia/Sharon/Chris/Barb T/Barb D/Lorna/Donna/Magdalena

Unfortunately, it appears Igna was not able to go home for his birthday, but is in sunny Miami with the Estefan’s!  I’m sure he will have a great party with them!

    Happy 23rd Birthday, Ignazio!! October 4, 2017 "I just called, to say, I love you..."♥♥♥♥ We love you, from the Flight Crew! (Thank you to Kristine Kelly for the photo from the PBS 2016 meet/greet!)