#clay jensen: study.

[rotturn]

07.

#clay jensen: in character. #clay jensen: arc one. #clay jensen: arc two. #clay jensen: arc three. #clay jensen: arc four. #clay jensen: arc five. #clay jensen: fear street: 1978 au. #clay jensen: fear street: 1994 au. #clay jensen: dead by daylight au. #clay jensen: the quarry au. #clay jensen: scream au. #clay jensen: study. #clay jensen: aesthetic. #clay jensen: headcanons. #clay jensen: physique. #clay jensen: visage. #clay jensen: edits. #clay jensen: dash games. #tag dump.

[lovebroken]

05.

#clay jensen: in character. #clay jensen: arc one. #clay jensen: arc two. #clay jensen: arc three. #clay jensen: arc four. #clay jensen: arc five. #clay jensen: alt — fear street: 1978. #clay jensen: alt — fear street: 1994. #clay jensen: alt — dead by daylight. #clay jensen: alt — the quarry. #clay jensen: alt — scream. #clay jensen: study. #clay jensen: aesthetic. #clay jensen: headcanons. #clay jensen: physique. #clay jensen: visage. #clay jensen: edits. #clay jensen: dash games. #tag dump.

[jensensfanfic]

NOT JUST THE FLU

pairing: justin foley x gn!reader (romantic) + clay jensen x twin!reader (familial/platonic ofc)

warnings: cursing, vomiting, justin in recovery - mentions of specific drugs, hints of justin's trauma from being on the streets, coughing, lmk if i should add anything else! (i am not an expert on addiction/recovery + symptoms so please don't come @ me)

a/n: here's another fic from my wattpad days. in the original version of this fic, i wrote the reader to be extremely pissed off and annoyed, but in this version they're a lot more understanding and soft

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

—☆—

"Anyone home!? Hello?"

As you close the front door, you kick off your boots, shoving them under the radiator to dry. With dripping hair and soaked clothes, you wander into the kitchen, leaving a trail of wet patches on the carpet in your path. You blow our a long, tired breath and head to the fridge for a bottle of water.

You call out again. "Hello!? Mum? Dad? Clay?" You pause for a few seconds, gulping down half of your drink." No? Just me, then. Sweet."

Figuring that you are home alone, you climb the stairs to the bathroom. You take the small pile of fresh pajamas you'd left before school and change into them. As you're drying your dry, you hear some clattering coming from Clay's room, immediately followed by a curse and then what sounds like a window being opened.

"Clay? You're here?" You knock on your brother's bedroom door. "Why didn't you answer me before?"

When you don't get a response, but continue to hear a string of curse words, you turn the handle and go in anyway. Your eyes widen when you see your friend, Tony. Well, just the back of him at least, as he sits on the window and then jumps down.

"The hell..." You charge forward, watching as he picks himself up from where he'd landed. "Tony, what the fuck?!"

Tony stands, brushes dirt from his jeans, and then looks back up. "Clay said you were studying with Jess."

You're at a loss for words as you frown.

"He said you'd be out late."

"What? I– we got done early. But that doesn't answer my question. What the fuck? Why were you in Clay's room alone?"

"Uh– not alone..." You turn around at his words and your eyes widen further upon seeing Justin Foley laying on your brother's couch, snoring.

How had you completely missed him lying there?

"Tony! Seriously, what the hell is going on?"

"Clay will explain. I have to go." With that, Tony gets into his car and drives away promptly, leaving you confused.

You shake your head in disbelief, then slide the window shut and turn to Justin. You walk over and give him a small shove.

"Justin? Hey..."

Justin wakes instantly, looking around the room, probably for Clay, but when he only sees you, he sits up and looks worried. "Um..."

"Can you please explain to me why the fuck you are in my house, drooling all ovwe my brother's couch?"

Justin opens him mouth to speak, but right at that moment, Clay arrives in the doorway to his room. "Shit! Crap. Uh– I can explain all of this."

"What on earth, Clay? Did you, like... smuggle him in here. Do mom and dad know?"

"They don't, and... kind of. I mean, yes. Yes, I did."

"And Tony was here because?"

"Tony was watching him while I was out."

Justin coughs. "Ugh, I told you, I don't need a babysitter."

You and Clay respond simultaneously. "Shut up."

You shake your head, confused. "Why would Tony need to babysit him?"

Clay looks down at Justin, who looks up at you before opening his mouth to speak. "I– uh– it's–"

"He's sick." Clay interrupts him. "He has the flu. Yeah. I brought him back to help Jessica with the trial and everything... but he's sick, so he's been staying here."

"Why does he need to be here just because he's sick?" You drop your shoulders, mouth hanging open slightly. You sit down on Clay's bed. "How long has he been here?"

Clay gulps before answering. "A few days."

"For real? I mean, what the hell, Clay? You've had Justin Foley in your room for a few days, and you didn't tell me? Are you completely crazy, or am I a total dumbass for not even noticing?"

Clay sighs. "Look, I'm sorry. But we can't risk him being seen."

You rest your head on your hand. "This is crazy."

"I know, okay? Just please... don't tell mom and dad."

Clay gives you his classic, wide-eyed, pleading face. The one he makes when he wants a favour from you, or if he's done something wrong and needs you to cover for him. He thinks it works, but, honestly, it never has.

However, thinking about it, you decide you would rather not face your parents after they find out this... secret. You can imagine their faces and the questions and the yelling they would do, directed at you and Clay. Since now, you have been involved.

"Yeah. Okay, fine." You chuckle. "Can you imagine what they'd say?"

Clay smiles and nods, and then sits down on the end of his bed next to you. "I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you right away."

"Forget it. Does he have medication?"

Justin shakes a small bottle of pills and points to the bottles of meds and water on the table.

"Great."

You feel before you see Clay tense a little, and you look st him with a quirked brow. "What now?"

"You are going to absolutely hate me for this, and I won't blame you if you do, but Tony, um... he can't skip school again tomorrow. Do you think you could– well, you know."

"You want me to watch him? You're serious?"

"Please. Just this once. I'll make sure you don't have to again. I'll figure something else out."

You huff. "Fine. I have first two periods free, so only until then."

"Thank you." Clay nudges your shoulder and smiles. "You're the best twin a brother could ask for."

"I know." You smile back at your brother, and then both of your eyes widen at each other when you hear Justin hiccup and then cough.

"Oh, God!" You try to grab the waste bin quickly, but Justin has vomited all the carpet before you can reach him.

—☆—

You sigh loudly when your phone rings again. "Jesus Christ!"

Justin tries to look over your shoulder. "What is it?"

"Clay... again."

You type a message back to your brother and then slide your phone onto the desk without looking. "He's demanding an update. Like, I'm sorry I forgot, I was sort of in the middle of cleaning up snotty tissues and your favourite vomit-covered shoes, bro."

Justin laughs. "Yeah, oops on that one, he's gonna be pissed."

"Most definitely."

"You have to admit, taking care of me isn't that bad?" Justin smirks.

"What makes you think that? It's gross."

"C'mon, Jensen." Justin smirks, his voice cocky as he explaisn. "Jeff told me."

"Told you what?" You ask, hoping Jeff Atkins really didn't let slip your secret."

"He told me what you said. That you thought I was 'hot', and I quote, 'as fuck'."

Ugh, Jeff.

You figure there isn't much point in denying it. You did find Justin attractive, and you weren't ashamed to think that. However, you do spin a tiny fib and pretend like your little crush on Justin is old news.

"Well... that was after that one night when you were fighting with Zach outside Hannah's party. You were having the time of your life, and so was I while checking you out."

"Oh, really?" Justin beams, and the smile looks strange against his sickly, exhausted looking face.

"How can you be this cocky and... flirty while simultaneously looking like you currently do."

Justin's mouth falls open. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... you really, really look the part of a sick person right now."

"Thanks?" He says, then makes you jump when he blurts out, "Shit, I'm fucking freezing!"

"I gave you three blankets!"

Justin shrugs. "I'm still cold."

"It's probably your fever." You sigh. "Be right back."

You quickly go to your own room and take the duvet from your bed.

"Here." Back in Clay's room, you throw the duvet over Justin, who takes it gratefully and pulls it around himself.

He frowns, surprised by the kind gesture, given that most of your shared time together, you'd been grumpy and impatient to leave.

"Thank you. But won't you need this yourself?"

"You want me to take it back?"

"No." He holds up his hand in defence. "I'm good, I'm good."

It's silent for a little while, so when Justin coughs again, it makes you look over at him. For the first time since you'd discovered him in your home last night, you actually take in his face properly.

You notice his eyes first. They're bloodshot, tired-looking, with little brusie-like circles underneath. His face isn't just pale; it's almost grey, and upon squinting at his hands for a few moments, you realise they are shaking.

Looking down at his medication, you see that not all of them are even meant to be taken for a 'flu'.

You stand up, frowning, and Justin follows your movements as you spot a fold tucked under Clay's desk, and lean down to pick it up. Before you can read it, Justin coughs, and you're certain it's fake; done in order to distract you.

"What am I going to find in here, Justin?" You plop back down onto the bed with the folder, and place it on your lap. "What isn't Clay telling me?"

Justin pulls the blankets tighter around himself. "Nothing, I–"

"You look awful. Like, worse than the flu awful. You're all lying to me, aren't you? You, Clay, and Tony." You roll your eyes when Justin doesn't respond. "Look, just tell me. Please. I promise you, whatever it is, I'll still keep my mouth shut. I just want to know what I'm really dealing with here."

You're about to push further when your phone rings again. You groan loudly. Answering it, you ignore Clay's questions and mutter, "Call me back in 20."

You hang up and throw your phone to the side. "So?"

Justin closes his eyes. "Just open that dumbass folder Clay made."

You do as he says, eyes widening when you read the first line on the first page inside. You read it aloud, "'Detoxing From Heroin.' What and what not– Justin, what–" You blow out a breath, taking a minute to let your anger fade, the feeling being replaced by concern and confusion. "What happened to you? After you left..."

Something in Justin's eyes shift. He suddenly seems scared, shy, maybe even a little ashamed. "I–" His voice cracks. "When I left–"

"Don't answer that." You quickly move to kneel beside him, leaning up on the couch and laying a hand over one of his. "Okay? You don't have to."

"Hm. Thanks." He relaxes and turns his hand, so that he can interlace his fingers with yours. When you don't pull away, and instead, squeeze his hand back, he smirks.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask, amazed by how quickly he seems to be able to change his entire mood.

"Because I knew it."

"Ugh. What?"

"You still like me, don't you?"

"Shut up, Foley." You pick up the folder again, opening it up to the page on medication. "Okay, what did you take before I got here?"

Justin doesn't answer right away, he just watches you flipping through the folder and mutters to himself. "Yeah, you still like me."

—☆—

Later that day, when Tony arrives to switch with you, Clay comes home too. You give them both an ear-bashing before leaving the house and heading back to school.

—☆—

A few days pass, and when you're walking to the shower one night, you hear Tony, ranting to Justin about how he needs to be somewhere else. You don't quite hear the what's and where's, or who's, but before you can even think about it, you push open the door.

"Go, Tony. If you need to. I've got it tonight."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm free, so go ahead."

"Okay." He pats you on the shoulder as he leaves the room. "Thank you."

You go and sit next to Justin on the floor, where's he got his knees tucked up against his chest, and his arms wrapped around them, shivering. "You're back. Thought you told Clay that you weren't gonna help after the other night."

"Yeah, well, I lied, I guess."

He smiles sweetly, and then you sigh to yourself for showing how much you really care for Justin, when you squeeze his knee. He looks up, confused, and then you turn your hand, palm up and nod.

Justin takes your hand once again, and then Justin lays his head on your shoulder. You lay your own against his.

"This is nice." He whispers.

"Yeah... until you throw up again."

Justin snort-laughs; and what you don't see is that at that moment, Clay arrives home. He looks in on you both, surprise making him leave you alone as he walks back downstairs, mumbling to himself.

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

#old wattpad fics #my writing #mine #jensensfanfic #jensensfanfic/justinsjensen #justin foley #clay jensen #justin foley x reader #justin foley fanfic #justin foley imagine #justin x reader #clay jensen x reader #clay jensen fanfic #clay jensen imagine #clay x reader #clay jensen x twin!reader #mygifs*

[bodyswappertransforming]

“The Sculptor”

Samara Leighton, dubbed "The Sculptor" in industry circles, embarked on her most monumental project yet—a cinematic epic slated to be the next global blockbuster. The cast, a constellation of A-list celebrities and seasoned thespians, was set to undergo transformations so profound that their own mothers wouldn't recognize them.

A year out from shooting, Samara's workspace resembled an alchemist's lab, brimming with sketches, clay models, and an array of exotic materials. Her team wasn't just skilled; they were magical, capable of weaving spells into silicone and spirit gum. The project demanded nothing short of sorcery to achieve the physical metamorphoses required.

The first challenge was transforming Michael Trent, a suave leading man known for his chiseled features, into a hulking beast whose emotions flickered through animatronic eyes. His entire upper body would be encased in a meticulously sculpted suit, layered with muscle structures that could twitch and flex on command. Magic-infused polymers were concocted, ensuring the suit remained as responsive as flesh.

For Eliza Crowne, celebrated for her delicate beauty, the task was equally daunting. She was to become a creature from folklore, complete with elongated limbs and a spine that arched unnaturally backward. Her prosthetics required an intricate blend of mechanics and magic to allow graceful, otherworldly movements. Samara and her team spent months perfecting the balance between Eliza's slight frame and the expansive, lightweight appendages that would double her height on screen.

Each actor spent hundreds of hours in Samara’s chair, not only to test and perfect their prosthetics but to psychologically morph into their roles. The makeup did more than alter appearances; it shifted gaits, postures, and presences. Jeremy Li, a method actor, requested subtle facial prosthetics that would not only alter his appearance but also manipulate his facial muscles into expressions alien to his own.

As filming neared, the workshop buzzed 24/7. Samara’s team applied final enchantments and conducted rigorous tests. The actors, now barely recognizable, moved with their new limbs, facial features, and bodies, mastering their characters’ every nuance.

The night before filming, Samara surveyed her workshop, a gallery of human art awaiting the limelight. Tomorrow, these magical constructs would breathe life into the silver screen's fantasies, their creators hidden behind the curtain of this grand spectacle.As the final makeup test commenced, the soundstage was abuzz with the quiet intensity of focused concentration. The entire cast, fully transformed by prosthetics and makeup, lined up for review under the harsh lights of the studio, a surreal array of fantastical beings and mutated forms. Samara Leighton, overseeing the operation with a watchful eye, made minute adjustments—a tweak to an eyebrow here, a smudge of shading there—to perfect the illusion.

The director, Max Jensen, known for his relentless pursuit of authenticity, paced before the actors, studying them with a critical eye. His vision for the film was not only to entertain but to completely immerse the audience in a convincingly altered reality. He stopped in front of Michael Trent, encased in his hulking beast suit. "Your eyes," he pointed out, "they need to show more despair, less human sorrow, more monstrous." Notes were whispered to Samara, who nodded in understanding, mentally cataloging the adjustments needed.

Next, he scrutinized Eliza Crowne, her form elongated and ethereal. "Eliza, your movements are too fluid, too human. You need to be otherworldly, disjointed. Think of your limbs as independent entities." He then turned to the magic-infused animatronics team, instructing them to recalibrate the limb movements for a more erratic, less predictable motion.

As the director moved on, his demands grew more specific. He asked Jeremy Li, whose facial prosthetics were designed to manipulate his expressions, to spend more time in front of the mirror, mastering the alien expressions that his new facial structure could create. "I want you to live in this," Jensen insisted. "Stay in makeup as long as you can bear. Eat in it, sleep in it if you must."

Acknowledging the director’s feedback, Samara gathered her team for an impromptu meeting. They discussed the need for deeper shadows here, a more exaggerated silhouette there, perhaps a change in pigment to suggest not just a disguise but a transformation at the cellular level.

For the next week, the actors were asked to isolate themselves in their characters, spending hours on set and in their trailers, rarely stepping out of their forms. This isolation wasn't merely physical but psychological, pushing them to adapt to their new bodies and the identities those bodies carried.

Samara's team worked around the clock, applying and reapplying makeup, refining the prosthetics, and embedding even more magic into the silicone and latex that served as second skins. Each evening, as the actors looked at themselves in the mirror, they saw less and less of the person they knew and more of the character they were becoming.

On the eve of production, the director called for one final lineup. This time, his walk through the transformed cast was met with approving nods rather than critiques. "This," he declared, looking over the array of beings that had once been human, "is what will bring our story to life."

Samara Leighton, aware of the actors' struggles to fully embody their characters under the director's exacting standards, decided to intervene with a more radical solution. Gathering her team late one night, she revealed a collection of ancient potions and incantations that could temporarily transform the actors into their characters—not just physically but mentally and emotionally.

### Michael Trent (The Beast)

**Physical Transformation**: Upon drinking a dark, viscous potion, Michael's body began to convulse slightly as his muscles expanded beyond their human proportions. His skin took on a rough, textured appearance like that of a mythical creature, and his eyes, once a warm brown, flickered to a deep, sorrowful black, completing his transformation into the beast

As Michael Trent stood in the dimly lit room, a small vial of dark liquid in his hand, he could feel the weight of his decision pressing down on him. The makeup and prosthetics had brought him close to the character, but not close enough—not for Max, not for the vision. The potion, Samara assured, would take him all the way. He uncorked the vial, the thick, earthy aroma filling his nostrils, and swallowed it in one bitter gulp.

Almost instantly, Michael felt a sharp pang in his gut, a signal that the transformation was beginning. His skin began to tingle, then burn, as if his very DNA were being rewritten. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to scream. His muscles swelled, bones stretched and contorted painfully as if being molded by an unseen sculptor's hands. The room seemed to shrink around him, or perhaps he was growing, his body expanding into the beast's massive form.

Internally, Michael was in turmoil. His mind raced with thoughts of regret and fear. _What have I done? Why did I agree to this?_ But as his physical form distorted, those thoughts began to blur, overshadowed by a flood of unfamiliar emotions. A deep, mournful loneliness crept into him, seeping into the cracks of his psyche. The beast’s memories—of isolation, of being misunderstood—began to merge with his own, tainting his thoughts with sorrow and rage.

As his eyes shifted, the brown giving way to a haunting black, his vision of the world altered too. Colors faded, details sharpened, and his sense of smell intensified. The physical pain was subsiding, but the emotional upheaval was just beginning. He felt himself slipping, losing grip on who Michael Trent was, and who this beast was supposed to be.

_This isn't just a role anymore,_ he realized with a mix of awe and horror. _I am becoming something else, something more than human._ The mental dialogue shifted as the beast’s instincts took over. Where Michael would panic, the beast assessed its surroundings with a predatory calm. Where Michael would feel despair, the beast felt a powerful, solemn acceptance of its fate.

Finally, as the transformation completed, Michael found himself standing fully in the beast's shoes—literally and figuratively. The room quieted, his heavy breathing the only sound. He tested his limbs, his movements heavy but powerful, his mind now a blend of Michael's thoughts and the beast’s instincts.

_I am the beast now. And I must live as he does._ Acceptance washed over him, not just of his new form but of his new reality. He was no longer just an actor playing a part; he was the part, living and breathing through the script of his life, both on and off the screen. Michael Trent, as he was, might have felt lost in this moment, but the beast, powerful and solitary, faced its new world with a grim resolve.

**Emotional Transformation**: As the potion took effect, Michael's usual calm demeanor gave way to a primal ferocity. He found himself grappling with a tumult of emotions, feeling a profound isolation and sadness that were not his own, but belonged to the beast. His roars filled the studio, not with anger, but with a despair that echoed the creature’s tragic narrative.

### Eliza Crowne (The Ethereal Creature)

**Physical Transformation**: Eliza's potion was lighter, almost luminescent. After ingestion, her limbs visibly lengthened, and her spine arched unnaturally as designed by her prosthetics. Her movements became jerky and disjointed, as if each limb was learning to operate independently of her control.

Eliza Crowne, the seasoned actress known for her ethereal beauty, faced a transformation that would challenge every aspect of her being. The process, catalyzed by a luminescent potion, was both mesmerizing and harrowing.

**Physical Transformation**: As Eliza ingested the shimmering potion, an icy chill spread throughout her body. Her limbs began to elongate unnaturally, pulling at the joints with a discomfort that bordered on pain but was strangely bearable. Her spine arched with a graceful, though unnatural curvature, creating an elegant yet eerie silhouette. The bones and muscles stretched and reshaped themselves under the skin, which itself became translucent and faintly luminescent, mimicking the otherworldly creature she was set to become.

Her movements, once controlled and human, became fluid and almost floating, as if she were underwater. Each step was now a glide; each gesture was exaggerated and elongated, defying the usual physical limitations of human anatomy. Her face, too, transformed subtly—her eyes grew wider, her cheekbones more pronounced, and her jawline softened, enhancing her alien visage.

**Emotional Transformation**: As the physical transformation took hold, so too did the emotional. Eliza felt her human concerns and connections fade away, replaced by a serene detachment. Her usual emotional responses—joy, sadness, irritation—seemed distant and muted. In their place, a calm, observant detachment settled in, as if she were a spectator in her own life.

Her sense of self began to dissolve, replaced by the essence of her character—a creature from beyond the human realm, untouched by earthly emotions. Her mindset shifted to one of ethereal indifference, viewing the world around her with a curious but detached interest. Words left her mouth slower, her voice carrying a melodic quality that seemed to echo slightly, as if spoken in a vast, empty hall.

**Psychological Acceptance**: The transformation was profound, and Eliza struggled with the loss of her familiar self. However, as she spent hours isolated, rehearsing in her new form, she began to embrace her character's nature. The initial discomfort and alienation she felt morphed into a deep connection with the creature she portrayed. She understood its motivations, its movements, and its existence, which no longer felt foreign but rather an intrinsic part of who she had become.

In fully becoming the character, Eliza transcended her previous acting experiences, reaching a new pinnacle of performance that was less about portrayal and more about true being. On set, she moved with a haunting grace, her presence both captivating and chilling, embodying the ethereal creature not just in appearance but in essence.

**Emotional Transformation**: Emotionally, Eliza drifted into a state of alien grace. Her usual lively spirit dulled into a serene, detached presence. Speaking softly, her voice carried a haunting melody that seemed to resonate from another world. She felt detached from human concerns, floating through her days in a dreamlike haze.

### Jeremy Li (Alien Character)

**Physical Transformation**: Jeremy's transformation was particularly striking. The contours of his face shifted, the prosthetics and makeup altering his features to something barely recognizable as human. His eyes, now a piercing silver, seemed to see beyond the normal spectrum.

Jeremy Li's transformation into his alien character was the most psychologically profound and physically altering of all. The potion designed for Jeremy was imbued with properties that not only changed his appearance but also his sensory perceptions and cognitive processes.

**Physical Transformation**:

After drinking the silvery, shimmering potion, Jeremy felt an immediate cooling sensation coursing through his veins. His face began to tingle, the sensation sharp as pinpricks, as his facial structure started to rearrange itself. His cheekbones shifted upwards, creating a more angular and pronounced shape, while his jawline receded slightly to give his face a less human and more streamlined appearance.

His eyes, the windows to his new soul, underwent a remarkable transformation. The irises expanded and turned a striking silver, which not only changed how he looked but drastically altered his vision. Colors and shapes became more vivid, and he could see with an almost panoramic view, giving him a disorienting sense of spatial awareness that was not typical of human eyes.

Jeremy's skin took on a slight luminescence, a pale glow that seemed almost bioluminescent, reflecting his character's ability to thrive in dark, extraterrestrial environments. The transformation was completed with a thin, almost imperceptible layer of scales that added to his alien texture and feel.

**Emotional and Psychological Transformation**:

As the physical transformation took root, so did the mental and emotional changes. Jeremy's thought processes began to align more with the alien character he was portraying—his reasoning became less emotional and more analytical, his responses to external stimuli were curiously detached, and his usual human instincts were subdued by an overriding calm and observational detachment.

His emotional responses became muted, replaced by a curious and explorative nature. He felt a compelling urge to understand rather than react, to analyze rather than feel. Jeremy's own memories and personality traits began to blur into the background as the alien's characteristics took precedence.

**Acceptance and Adaptation**:

The initial shock of the transformation gave way to a profound acceptance as Jeremy adapted to his new form and mind. He began to move with a grace that was not his own, his gestures calculated and precise. His speech pattern changed, adopting a rhythmic and almost musical tone, his voice carrying a strange resonance that seemed to vibrate with a quality beyond the normal auditory range.

Jeremy, now fully transformed, found himself not just acting but truly becoming the alien entity he was meant to portray. This complete immersion into the character allowed him to deliver a performance that was both unsettling and captivating, fully embodying the alien's essence in every scene. The transformation, though temporary, left a lasting impact on how he viewed himself and his craft, bridging the gap between human actor and alien persona.

**Emotional Transformation**: With the transformation, Jeremy's thoughts and speech patterns changed drastically. He began to speak in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic cadence that matched his character's alien nature. His emotional range narrowed, focused more on curiosity and observation, lacking the typical human emotional responses to stimuli.

As each actor underwent their transformation, they lost touch with their true identities, fully becoming the characters they portrayed. Days blended into one another, their personal memories and characteristics submerged beneath the surface of their new personas. They interacted with each other not as colleagues but as the beings they had become, driven by the stories scripted for them but influenced heavily by the emotional and psychological depth the potions had unlocked.

The set turned into a living tableau of the film, with actors no longer acting but living out their roles. Samara watched, her heart torn between triumph at the success of her magical solutions and concern for the well-being of her friends and colleagues who had trusted her with their very selves.

As the days passed, the line between performance and reality blurred, leaving all involved wondering where the characters ended and the real people began. The magic had not only transformed them for the screen but challenged the very essence of their identities, leaving an indelible mark on their lives and performances.

#bodyswap #mental change #male transformation #fantasy #personality change #male body swap #male tf #gay #undercover cop #disguise transformation #special effects #makeup #Hollywood

[shayyprasad]

game (headcanon) | clay jensen

a/n: something. i had to post something. (i'm halfway through season three, any requests can only be made in the timeline of season one + two + three! please, no spoilers! (i'll cry.) i wanted to write something, literally anything, to get the creative wheels turning. this is kind of just a starting point for me. italics - clay; normal - ...anyone that isn't clay.

summary: how you and clay became you and clay.

warnings: mostly fluff, some depressive/suic!d@l thoughts (nature of clay), it's 13rw... let's face it, the show tackles some dark stuff.

pairing: fem!reader x clay jensen

word count: 0.79k+ words

-after hannah, clay wasn't great at putting himself out there, especially when it came to girls.

-the biggest thing he'd be worried about was girls. once hannah passed, the main reason he was having trouble was because he was trying to find another hannah.

-clay couldn't help but compare everyone to her.

-it was funny though, because the second he saw you, it was like; who's hannah? the world of "before hannah" and "after hannah" was gone.

-in that moment, when you'd first locked eyes, anything revolving the mere thought of hannah disappeared. he didn't have to think about her, and as selfish as it feels to him, it was refreshing. relieving.

-and you know what? he loved that feeling. he loved the feeling of cloud nine.

-sure, plently of times he'd considered asked you out. and then the thought would hit him like a brick; he's never even said a word to you. how's he going to ask you anything at all, if he can't even utter yet a simple "hi" to you?

-trust me, he tries. clay tries a whole lot. but he'll be inches away, and freeze up.

-part of him is afraid to love again, because what if everything ends up like hannah? like one big repeat? he's not sure if he can live through that again. it was hard enough the first time around.

-eventually, he gives up, choosing to admire you from afar.

-it's luck for him, however, when you're the one to break the ice.

-he remembers it clearly, how you lean over during english lit.

-"clay? do you have any idea what we're doing. because... yeah, i wasn't listening." / "huh? what? oh, uh, yeah- yeah, it's chapters 12-15, questions 1-10."

-he's panicking. you're talking to him.

the second time, you're complaining about your math grade to a friend. he's not even thinking when he blurts out:

-"i can help you. like, tutor you or whatever. i'm pretty good at it." / "wait, really? like, for real?" / "sure."

-clay's non-chalant on the outside, not so much on the inside.

-you seem happy, and instantly, he is too.

-the first thing he does is head into his room, kicking justin out.

-"yeah, okay, well, the adoption papers strongly disagree." / "please? y/n's coming over! i need this to go well." / "y/n? no shit?" / "no shit."

-justin gives in, he's clay's number hypeman anyways. justin lingers in the main house, and then finally wanders to find jessica. that's not clay's concern right now, though.

-it's his room. or more specifically, his shared room. he's freaking out, he hasn't been this nervous since the trial, as he shoves all - i mean all - of justin's crap into the closet, then cleaning up his own.

-he hesisitates over his akr comics, before shoving them in a drawer.

-clay showers, it won't hurt, and spritzes on some of justin's more... masculine colongne.

-half an hour later, there's a knock at the door. he's giddy as he answers it, yet nervous as well.

-"nice house-shed." / "thanks."

-he hopes it a compliment. you're nodding in approval, taking in his room. (shared room.) the little trinkets and trophies.

-and the one akr comic he left out.

-"oh, you read these?" / "y-yeah. i mean, yes. i do. wait- do you?" / no, but my little brother does."

-it's incredible how the conversation flows so smoothly after that.

-after a while, you and him got close. suddenly, it wasn't just study/tutoring sessions, it was hangouts at your place and his.

-everyone thought the two of you were dating, starting with justin.

-he would just be talking to his brother, and it would slip in.

-"how's it going between you and y/n?" / "what's going?" / "dude, you still haven't said anything?" / "there's nothing to say."

-or between his parents:

-"clay, honey, how's your girlfriend? you should bring her over for dinner!" / "we aren't dating, mom." / "really?"

-and more frequently, at school. everyone just assumed you and him were together, and at some point, you stopped correcting them.

-"hey, man, your girlfriend left her jacket in class." / "i'll give it to her."

-somewhere along the line, the difference between dating and not-dating blurred, to the point where you weren't even sure what was going on.

-"hi, not-boyfriend." / "hey, not-girlfriend."

-^became a regular occurence.

-"should we just date? y-you know, because everyone thinks we are... so... it's like-" / "sure." / "okay. wait, really?" / "yeah, why not? i'm suprised it took you this long. i'm literally always flirting with you." / "oh."

-like i said, clay isn't always the best with girls. it doesn't matter though, because you have enough game for the both of them.

#clay jensen x reader #13rw #13 reasons why #thirteen reasons why #clay jensen x y/n #clay jensen fanfic #clay jensen fluff #clay jensen self insert #13rw self insert

[misschanadlerbong]

Chapter 9 - Part 1

Summary: Y/N was not doing so well in her studies so she seeks Clay Jensen's help, but things get a bit heated.

Warnings: make-out

Pairing: Clay Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2k

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The last term of your senior year was going fairly well. The tension between Zach and you were at ease and you both were back to being good sports teammates there was no denying the fact that you guys made the best team.

You found it hard to believe, but it had been a long since you acknowledged that life sucked. But life’s a bitch whenever you feel too happy it bites you in the back.

You got called in by your history teacher and it seemed like you weren’t doing good with your grades, and you needed grades to get into a good college.

“But I’ll have my sports scholarship, so why worry about the grades?” you argued.

“Ms. Y/L/N I understand that you have a sports scholarship but that does not mean that I will be happy to see such low grades in your history test. Y/N you did so well in the first term despite being caught up in sports. I want you to improve your scores as they were. There should always be a backup plan. Let us hope to see a spike in your grades in end-term tests.” The teacher suggested.

To be honest the truth was that you were so caught up with your encounter with Bryce and your breakup with Zach that you almost forgot that you had school to be good at. You made it seem so easy that you could handle it all but, you were just seventeen and you couldn’t handle it all too well. Those sleepless nights of overthinking, thinking how you could have done it differently, what would have happened if you didn’t end up with Bryce in that filthy clubhouse, spending a lot of time in the bathroom crying and the list goes on.

You possessed this power where you can be cheerful and happy from the outside without anyone letting know what’s going on the inside. You never liked the idea of burdening other people with your problems.

Now, you had to move on. Those incidents were not worth anything to put your grades at stake. You decided to ask Clay for help as to who can be a better tutor than the smartest student in the class himself.

The school day ended, and you were going into the parking lot with Jessica where Tony was waiting for you in his car to drop you home. While walking in the hallway towards the gate you came across Clay Jensen. “Jess, you wait for me outside, I gotta talk to Clay about something.” You told Jessica.

“Yeah, I’ll be right outside with Tony.” She spoke.

“Hello, Mr. Nerd.” You greeted Clay.

“Oh, hi! You can see me?” said Clay sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes in embarrassment and said innocently “Okay, I have been a bit busy lately. It’s not like I ghosted you or something we still met at the locker often.”

“Yeah, right right right. You kiss me and then for a month I am just a guy whose locker is neighbors with yours.” You could hear the teasing in his words. He didn’t sound mad he was just being savage which was not unlikely of him.

You sighed heavily, “That is not the point Clay, come on. I need your help. Please listen to me?”

You made your pretty please face which no one has ever been able to deny.

“Yeah, tell me. I was just kidding. Sometimes it feels nice to not be the one getting roasted by Ms. Y/N. Anyway, tell me how I could help you ma’am?” He crossed his arms and was ready to listen attentively.

“I kinda need you to tutor me in History and Maths. I missed a few classes, life’s been pretty rocky, so I wasn’t paying attention. Could you maybe help me?”

“Ah, now I wonder why I got attention from Ms. Y/N/L/N and suddenly I exist for her, of course, it is because you need my help. I get it yeah.” He teased yet again.

“Okay, enough with this sassy treatment Clay, you are lucky I need help from you otherwise I don’t take this shit from anyone. I get it I used you and I am sorry. I am. Please?” you said making your pretty please face again.

“I got homework to do so I might not be able to…”

You cut him off and said “Okay Clay, I have tried to be nice but you’re on the Student Honour Board and you must help every student seeking help. Earlier I asked you as a friend but now I am asking you to perform your duty as a peer. Otherwise, I don’t think so you deserve to be on the Student Board.”

“Damn, you got me. I was just fooling around. I’ll help you. It will be my honor. We can meet at Monéts in an hour.” Finally, he agreed to help.

“No not in an hour, I gotta go home and eat something quickly and come back for practice. How about at 6?” you suggested.

“Oh okay, at 6. But it’ll have to be at my place then. That café turns loud till the evening.”

“Done! Thank you so much, Clay. You are the best.”

You kissed his left cheek in a friendly way which left Clay blushing and staring at the floor with his right hand behind his neck as you walked away.

After practicing you took a quick shower and put on your boyfriend-fit jeans with a black graphic tee on the top and grabbed your leather jacket on your way out. You told your mom that you were going to study at Clay’s place which was the only reason why she would permit you to go to a boy’s place. To study.

On your way to the Jensen’s, you stopped by Monéts to buy a couple of drinks for Clay and yourself. You knocked on the door gently and Clay did not even take a minute to open it seemed like he was eagerly waiting for you.

“Hey Hoodie! See what I brought along with me.”

“Hey Y/N, aren’t we supposed to study?” He inquired.

“Okay, Jensen sue me for needing caffeine while studying.” Sarcasm flows with your words.

“Let me that that.” He offered to take your jacket like a gentleman.

With that, he led the way, and you followed him to the round dining table in the kitchen. You placed the drinks on the table and took out your books. Clay peeped into the drinks curiously, wondering what I could have brought.

You made his work easy by giving him his drink and taking yours, “Here, Hot Chocolate for you and Triple Mocha for me.”

“How come I don’t get coffee?” he asked.

“Simple. Because you don’t drink it.” You answered.

He looked surprised by the fact that you knew that information about him. He further inquired “How’d you know that?”

You tried to make it seem normal as you said “I uh… might have read your fan fiction about Alien Killer Robots and Percy is not a Coffee guy either so I gathered that you won’t be too because you resonate with Percy a lot. You are just like him, brave, courageous, empathetic, and compassionate.”

“You read my fiction???... But didn’t you say that you have no interest in Aline Killer Robots and they creep you out?”

Damn this man had many questions, “Okay, I thought of giving it a try you know starting with the fiction, so I am ready for the real thing. And to be honest I must admit, great writing. You made me fall for the whole Alien concept and I might even borrow those comics you recommend to me earlier.”

You could see the pride on Clay’s face, he was so happy that you called him Percy. You knew he was his favorite character, and he would fight anyone who does not like him.

You both sat down on the wooden chairs and Clay started with American history. It seemed like the house had no one except you two until you heard the door being opened by someone.

“Clay, I am home.” The woman spoke.

That someone was Clay’s mom, Lainie Jensen. She was surprised to see an unexpected guest, but she was so sweet. She instantly brought a huge welcoming smile to her face.

Clay looked a little awkward as he was not expecting either of his parent too early.

“Mom, I thought you were working.”

“Hello to you too Clay. I brought the work home. By the way, who is this beautiful girl?” asked her mom in the sweetest way you could imagine. You always liked when people appreciated you.

Before Clay could say anything, you stretched your hand for a handshake and said “Y/N, Y/Ln. It is so nice to meet you Mrs, Jensen.”

“Oh, so she is the famous Y/N I have heard so much about.” She gasped.

Clay got all awkward again and said, “Not so much about you, you know just a little bit. It’s part of their helicopter parenting where I have to tell them about my day and all. Mom if you would please excuse us, we have to do some studying.”

Clay grabbed all the books, and you picked up your backpack along with the drinks and he led the way toward a narrow staircase. We did not even climb three steps when his mom called for him again.

“Clay, honey, please remember to keep the door open 3 inches”

You tried your best not to laugh but could not help it and let out a small giggle. Clay got embarrassed as he looked at you and then at his mom and said, “Stop humiliating me in front of my friends, mom.” He climbed the stairs in frustration and opened the door for you to his bedroom.

He had a small bedroom but not so small to accommodate a couch in one corner of the room and a queen size bed in the other corner attached to the wall. His study table was just beside the window giving the perfect street view. His walls were dominated by posters of various things this Alien Killer Robots and The Arcade Fire. As he closed the door leaving three inches open as instructed by his mom your eyes fell upon this beautiful doodle of tapes. His bedroom was aesthetically grey which you found soothing and cozy.

Over the span of an hour, you both shifted from the couch to the study table, to the bed and finally, you both settled down on the floor resting your backs on the other side of the bed. Clay was sitting on the side closer to the door and you were sitting near his nightstand.

“So Civil War happened in which year?” asked Clay taking my test.

“1851?” you answered.

“No, Y/N it’s 61”

You groaned in frustration “Why can’t Damon Salvatore be my history tutor? Like he lived the history, he was even part of the war.”

“Don’t you think Damon’s toxic?” asked Clay and jealousy was visible on his face.

You cross-questioned him “Don’t you think Katherine’s a bitch?”

“Yeah, but she’s hot.” Said Clay making an argument.

You patted Clay’s cheek and said with sympathy “Thank you so much for proving my point, Clay.” It didn’t take long for Clay to realize what you meant, and you both laughed loudly.

But suddenly there was an unexpected silence in the room. You felt some kind of tension between the two of you, something that was never experienced between the two of you. It was like a silence that spoke a magnitude of language. You felt a force that was drawing you towards Clay. You took deep breaths and cupped Clay’s face with one hand moving him closer to you. You looked into his eyes and he gave a slight nod.

You leaned in to kiss Clay. Luckily, he started kissing back and you both sunk into the kiss. You still held his face by his jawline keeping him closer and moved towards him decreasing the gap between you two, meanwhile, Clay slid one of his legs to shut the door without breaking the kiss.

You were so impressed by this act; he did this so effortlessly. As you sunk more into the kiss it was getting hot until the door flung open and you stopped abruptly.

A/N: Damn! I wonder who could that be? it's sus. I promise there's a part 2 to it so stay tuned.

Shower your love by liking and commenting on the post. Refrain from copying, plagiarism, or posting on any other platform.

THANK YOU!!!

P.S.: I also upload on Wattpad @immafreakingmoonstone, feel free to check out my account :)

#13 reasons why #13rw #clay jensen #clay #clay jensen x reader #13rw reader fiction #clay x reader #clay jensen 13rw #clay jensen 13 reasons why #13rw imagine #clay jensen imagine #dylan minnette #dylan minnette x reader #chapter 9 part 1 #there's gonna be a part 2 #reader fiction

[andydrysdalerogers]

Undercover ~ Chapter Thirteen ~ The Line of Succession

Pairings: Jake Jensen and OFC Samantha Matthews

The Losers have made it back to their families and are out. Well, almost. A threat against the British crown needs to be handled and the CIA has tapped the Losers for one final mission. And they are sending in Jensen.

Jake Jensen hasn't been a civilian in years but now he's undercover to find out why his target is where he is and who he's after.

Enter Sam, someone who Jake doesn't expect and well, he didn't know he was looking for.

Can Jake handle his mission and falling in love? Especially when the truth leads to a bigger mission than expected?

*~* A Jake Jensen Story *~*

Author's note: this story continues after the events of the Losers. I may weave other characters into it but they are all minor. THE TAGLIST IS OPEN.

The playlist is available on Spotify.

cover photo by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: angst, death, smut, and a bunch of stuff a can’t say because it gives away the plot!

Previous: Chapter Twelve - Her Royal Highness

Story Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs are most welcome though!

The call comes unexpectantly. The team was already in the air, after having debriefed Director Fowler and Inspector Hart.  Hart gave them the green light to head into his office and they were wheels up four hours later.  Jake tried calling Sam but she didn’t pick up.  Clay answered the phone.  “Clay?... Yes, sir.” He tapped the screen. “You’re on speaker.”  

“There was an attack on Parliament about 45 minutes ago.  Their Majesties are alright but... I’m sorry, they have taken Her Royal Highness.”  

“Sam?” Jake’s brain was not computing. “They took Samantha?” 

“Yes. The lights went out and several flash bangs were fired, causing a run and when the lights came up, she was gone.”  

“What about Edward?” 

“He is missing as well.”  

“We told you this was his plan!” Jake exploded. “We told you he was the one who hired Fitzgerald. He wants to take over the monarchy! And you didn’t listen! Now look what happened! She is with him and whoever else he hired and … FUCK!”  Jake grabbed his head.  

“We touch down in an hour,” Clay told the Inspector. “Is there video, cameras, anything?”  

“We’ll have it ready for you. The Royal Protection Service is deferring to you, Colonel, since this was their failure.”  

“Copy that. See you soon.” Clay hung up and kneeled in front of Jensen. “Jake, we’ll find her.”  

“She has to be so scared.” Jake’s eyes were red. “She’s strong but she’ll be scared.”  

“I know, Jake but we’ll find her and bring her home, ok?” Jake nodded rubbing his eyes. “Can you do this? Everything will be ready for us on the ground. I need you to focus and get to work.” 

“Yeah, alright. I could use Aisha help.” 

“Of course, Jake”.  

“Alight, Jensen and Aisha have the tech. Pooch, Cougar, I want you in the room, checking for anything that can tip us off on who Prince Edward is working with.  It was coordinated and tactical. Fitzgerald was only on the US side. Someone else had to have been working this here. I’ll work with the Inspector and the RPS.”  

The plane landed and headed inside of a hanger, where Inspector Hart was waiting for them. “Captain...” 

“Don’t,” Jake said.  “Where are the camera feeds?” 

“Right here.” Hart pointed at the terminal.  Jake jumped on the computer.  

“Aisha, I need you to work through traffic cameras with this,” he pulled out a chip. “It's facial recognition software. Find a picture of Edward and run it. Let’s see where that slimeball went.  I’ll study this footage and see if I can find who was helping inside of Parliament.”  

Only the sound of clicking and low voices filled the hanger. Jake’s eyes scanned the video on one screen as code ran on another.  After a few minutes the code screen stopped and pulled up whatever Jake was looking for.  He smiled and then looked at the video. He was up to the part where Sam would walk into the chamber.  He frowned when he saw her hand in the crook of some guy’s arm but then he noticed Edward.  

“What are you doing, old man?” Jake rewound the tape and watched again. He saw Sam recoil away from him and then walk away but instead of focusing on her, no matter how beautiful she looked, he focused on Edward.  The man pulled out his phone and typed a message. Jake couldn’t see the screen but then he noticed the reflection behind him.  

“Son of a bitch! Clay! I’ve got it. Edward sent a message five minutes before Sam was presented. All it was one word: GO. But you can see the number. I traced it, and it goes back to a Major August Walker, Royal Protection Service.”  

“What?” Inspector Hart was dumbfounded. “Major Walker is the head of the protection for Her Royal Highness.  He was in her father’s security team for ten years and his Majesty had selected him for her team. This doesn’t make sense.”  

Jake kept typing. “Well, Major Walker has some beef with the crown. Harold had ordered a team into Bosnia including Walker and half of the team was killed by friendly fire. Walker was discharged from the Army and for his service, given a position in the RPS.”  

“Shit, Edward is for pulling all troops from around the world, essentially leaving our allies vulnerable.” Hart started to pace. His reasoning is ‘England before all.’ But there is no way to implement that with Anthony on the throne. The Prime Minister is a sensible man but if the crown is on its knees, then maybe he can be swayed.”  

“That doesn’t explain why he took Sam,” Clay said. “The reasoning is sound, but they had the chance to take Anthony.”  

Aisha mused, “Because if you control the heir, you control the crown. If they said they would kill Samantha unless Anthony stepped down...” 

“That would leave Edward or his son Lewis to take over,” Clay finished.  He looked at Jake. “We need to find her.”  

Sam’s head was pounding. Trying to open her eyes, she also struggled to take a deep breath. Her eyes were covered but her ribs protested slightly. She gasped when she moved her head, the pain blinding behind her eyes. 

“Easy their Princess.”  A hand touched her, rough and callous.  She jumped as her eyes continued to try and open. “Whoa, its ok.” 

“Who- who are you?” 

“Don’t answer her.” Dread filled Sam. She knew that voice and she feared it.  Someone grasped her chin and pulled off the blindfold.” Open your eyes child.”  Sam blinked and the world was still unfocused, however, she knew who had taken her.  

“Uncle?” 

“You were always sharp, even as a child.”  Edward stepped back with a laugh.  

“Why? Why did you...” 

“Take you? Because, my dear, he who controls the heir, controls the world. Imagine my surprise when my brother announced to me that the little girl who belonged to his girlfriend was actually his daughter. The heir to the throne after his son.” Sam kept blinking as the world began to focus. “It was supposed to be me! I was supposed to take the throne! Not that wannabe king Anthony. I’ve lost my chance at it but my son, your cousin Lewis is primed to be my puppet on the throne.”  

“It’s the line of succession.  You knew being a younger son there was no guarantee that you would succeed.”  

“Thank you for the history lesson.” Edward backhanded her and she cried out as the chair tipped and hit the ground.  “Watch her,” she told the soldier and left the room.  

The soldier nodded and then moved to help Sam back up. “Are you alright, Your Royal Highness?”  

“Why do you care?” Sam could finally focus and saw who the soldier was. “Major Walker?” 

“I’m sorry Princess. But it is what must be done. Do you need anything?” 

“Some water, please. And maybe untie my arms. It's starting to hurt.”  

“I’ll get you some.” He left the room and Sam took in where she was at. No windows, and a bathroom.  From where she could turn her head, she saw a bed and a table.  She took a few calming breaths. What would JJ do? She said to herself. She thought back.  

She and Jake were in bed, Sam was lying across the foot on her belly, just the blanket covering her body. “Babe, if you are ever in a position where your captor is bigger than you, just remember these four points: noise, stomach, groin and foot.”   “Why?” She kicked her legs in the air as she stared up to Jake sitting against the headboard.   “Those are the soft spots. Maximum amount of pain which can usually incapacitate a man. Stomp on his foot, elbow him in the stomach, just under the ribs, kick him in the balls and smash his nose with the heel of your palm. It gives you time to get away.”  “Can we practice?” She sat up, the blanket falling around her middle, but now her breasts were exposed.   “No, we cannot because you’re distracting me.” He launched himself at her, tackling her as she giggled and pinning her as he kissed her hard. “I love you.”   “I love you.”  “We’ll practice tomorrow.  Maybe Pooch or Cougar can help?” 

Sam snapped back as Walker came back into the room with a bottle of water. He opened it and gave her a sip. “Better?” 

She nodded. “Can you untie me?” 

“No.” Walker looked away from her. She saw he had keys and a gun. She just needed to get loose and then she could escape.  Where? Who knows, but she knew Jake was looking for her. He would once he realized she wasn’t calling him back on the phone.  

Jake will find me. I know he will.  

Jake and the rest of the team met up with the RPS at the Parliament building.  “Did you find anything?” he asked Pooch and Cougar.  

“No, but that’s the interesting part.”  

“Why is that interesting?” Clay asked.  

“Because there isn’t any evidence that they left. All of the outside surveillance was active. They never showed up and they never left,” Pooch explained  

“That’s because of the underground tunnels.” A new voice joined in.  Jake looked over and saw an older man. He looked familiar. And it dawned on Jake. This was Samantha’s father.  Another man joined who looked like him but 30 years young. “The undergrounds were made so royals could come in and negotiate without setting off the press,” Harold explained. “Every royal raised here knows about them.”  

“And you are?” Clay asked.  

Harold dropped the formalities. “Harold Davenport. This is my son, Anthony.”  

“Your highness, Majesty, sorry,” Jake said.  

Harold studied him.  “You must be Jake.” He offered his hand. “My Samantha has spoken very highly of you.” 

“Thanks, I think. You’re pawning her off to a duke or earl or something right?” 

Harold looked abashed. “That is a family decision but given the circumstances, best we wait until we get her back.”  

“Right,” Jake huffed.  

“Sirs, we have a video message.”  They gathered around the screen.  It was of a hooded man, Samantha unconscious, eyes covered and still in the beautiful blue gown.  

“We have the Princess Samantha.  For her release, we need televised confirmation of our troops being withdrawn from around the world and the abdication of His Majesty, Anthony of England.  We will also require that the she sign away her rights as heir to the throne of England. You have 48 hours to comply with our demands, otherwise, the consequences will be dire.”  

The video cut out.  Jake was vibrating with anger. “Can I see that?” He pointed to the computer. The soldier at the controls moved and Jake began typing.  The screen moved with measurements and code over the video.  “The signal was bounced around a lot so getting a lock on the origin will be tough.  However,” he typed some more. “This is man is Walker.”  Jake scanned some more. “This is a room with nothing reflective in it except for Walker’s goggles.  I can see the camera.”  

“How in the bloody hell does he know it’s Walker?” Anthony whispered to his father.  

“Based on the height in the room and how small Sam is sitting I have his height at 6’ 1”. His mass also suggests he’s about 100 kilos or 220 pounds. Both measurements fit Walker’s profile. And the fact that he is also missing.”  Jake kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke.  “I got it.” He enlarged the picture to show the man behind the camera.  

“Fuck, that is my brother,” Harold said.  

“Yep. We knew that already,” Clay said. “We tried to reach the RPS while we were in the air, but the attack already occurred.”  

Harold rubbed his temple.  “If he is leading this, then we have to head down to the tunnels.”  

“No, we will find her,” Jake said. “You said she would be safe here. You said it was for the best. This was nothing more than leading a lamb to be slaughtered. I am getting my girl back and taking her home.”  

“This is her home,” Anthony argued.  

“This was her prison.” Jake stood toe to toe with Sam’s brother. “Do you even know your sister? How amazing she is? How resilient she is? She was left with her mother in the U.S., met a man who promised to love her and then screwed her over and left her broken. But she fixed herself in a beautiful, caring, loving person who ensnared me in her love. She is the love of my life and when I say I’m taking her home, it means I’m going to marry her and build her a home where she doesn’t have to worry about her asshole brother who doesn’t love her.”  

Jake’s chest heaved as Clay grasped his shoulder. “Its ok Jake. C'mon, let’s get ready to rescue the princess.”  

“I do care about my sister.” Anthony looked at Jake. “I...” 

Jake cut him off. “If you love your sister, let me do my job.” He took off the brace from his arm.  

“You need three more weeks with that,” Aisha said softly.  

“And I need to save my girl.” Jake pulled a rifle.  

Clay smiled. “You heard the man. Losers! Round up.” 

NEXT

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[integra1127grimmreaper]

Let's Start Over

Prev

Sad Alt Ending

Clay Masterlist

Warning: violence, angst, mention of murder & attempted suicide, character death

A/N: Because @scorpioempress begged me for a happy ending... Here ya go luv!

Thank you to @chalahyung01 for the ideas in order to make this chapter! 💖

Summary: Alterative ending to Doesn't Even Matter. Chapter inspired by the song - It's Not Over by Daughtry. A surprising twist in plans comes forward.

You silently followed behind Roque and Wade as they made their way toward the person you assumed to be Max, standing inside a container.

"So, you're Max?" Roque loudly remarks and the man turns around.

"Welcome to the team..." he smiles in response, turning his attention to you then.

"And who might this lovely lady be?"

"She's with me" Roque replies.

Max narrows his eyes, silently studying you for a moment, causing your skin to crawl at the way he looked at you. After a few more moments of staring, Max turns to Wade, silently nodding at him.

"Supervise the loading of the money, onto our plane" Wade instructs Roque.

"What do you mean?" the weapons dealer stares at Wade in confusion.

Roque and you silently watch the interaction for a second and turn to do what was ordered.

"Not you..." Wade calls out, pointing at you.

"You, stay here."

Roque and you silently stare at him, then at each other. Roque steps closer to you, whispering into your ear.

"If the shit hits, head for the plane."

You silently nod at him, moving back toward the container while he heads to the plane.

You didn't like this one bit.

You stood silently watching the interaction between Max and the weapons dealer when suddenly a massive explosion goes off on the opposite side of the port.

"What the fuck was that?" Wade yells out as Max's men points their weapons onto the dealer's men.

"I'm gonna need you to arm this device right now" Max calmly orders the dealer.

"Extremists are about to be framed for cratering the great port of L.A."

"You're insane!" the dealer responds in disbelief.

Eyes widening in shock, you take a small step back.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Max rants on about it being for the greater good, and you knew you had to do something to stop his madness.

Taking slow steps backwards, you slip your weapon out, making sure to keep an eye on everyone as you try to think of a plan to stop Max.

Just as you were about to make your move, the sound of the gate being crashed into was heard and Wade and his men began shooting towards an oncoming van.

You let out a sigh of relief when seeing the team rushing out of it and returning fire.

Thank God... even though you had turned sides, you never wished any harm to Pooch, Jensen and Cougar.

You take cover, taking out a few guards that the team had missed.

"Y/N! Get over here!" Roque calls out to from the plane, while the money was still being loaded.

You stood frozen; torn between wanting to get the hell out of there and making sure your friends were safe.

Pooch had a wife and a baby on the way, Jensen had niece and Cougar had family that loved him, Clay, you didn't give a fuck about anymore... at least that's what you tell yourself.

You were in a complete daze as you watched your friends fight off gun fire from all directions. Having made your mind up to help them, you about to go to them but then you saw her.

Aisha... but of course, Clay would gladly take is lover back into the fold. Fuck it... you decide, falling back and wait until you had a clear opening to head to the plane so that you and Roque could get the hell out of there.

You watch as Roque yells orders into the plane, firing his weapon in Clay's direction and he returns it. They soon run out of bullets and Roque throws a knife at Clay, jumping out the plane to begin hand-to-hand combat.

You were struggling to get to them; running up against gun fire from Max's guards once they realized you had turned on them.

"Ya know, I always wondered how this was going to play out, Clay..." Roque remarks, holding a knife in each hand.

"Told you already" Clay smirks, clutching his gun at the muzzle as a weapon.

"You die, very badly..."

"Oh yeah...?" Roque scoffs, chuckling softly.

"That because I took your girl...?"

"You're dead!" Clay growls out in response and two begin fighting in earnest.

"Roque!" you call out, making a run for the plane once you had an opening.

Both he and Clay pause for a second at hearing you.

"Get on the plane!" Roque yells out to you.

You were nearly close to them when a shot goes off, you scream out in pain as a bullet ripped through shoulder and you fall to the ground.

"No!" Clay yells out as you dropped to the ground. Turning toward Roque, he releases all his anger out on him then.

Roque manages to get Clay in a headlock, knife at his throat.

"It's your fault she got shot! Now I'm definitely gonna cut your head off!"

"Go-for-it!" Clay responds, elbowing him in the face.

You manage to sit up, groaning in pain as you clutch at you shoulder and then that's when you see Clay chasing Roque into the plane. Realizing that you wouldn't be able to make it and that you were in the path of the plane and ongoing gun fire, you hastily drag yourself to cover behind some containers.

A few guards come across your hiding spot and you easily dispose of them as you sit leaning against the container. Suddenly the sound of the plane starting up was heard, taking a peek from your hiding spot; you see Clay lying sprawled out on the ground and Roque was nowhere to be seen.

"Son-of-bitch!" you hiss out at the realization that he had abandoned you.

You hear the sound of an oncoming motorcycle and suddenly see Clay standing up from the ground. With wide eyes, you watch as he stood directly in the between of the path of the plane getting ready to take-off and Wade heading toward him full speed on the motorcycle.

"No-fuckin'-way..."

You hear a long-range shot go off and suddenly Wade's bike is exploding, flinging him into the air and directly into the plane's engine. The bike ends up heading directly into the front of the plane, causing it to explode and that's when you knew, you were fucked.

I've got to get the fuck out of here.

After having to choose between stopping a massive explosion or killing Max, Clay resurfaces from the water with the remote for the bomb in-hand.

"Hey...! Look what Pooch found!" Jensen calls out in excitement from an extremely bright canary yellow stretch hummer.

"Look what I found..." Clay remarks, remote clutched tightly in his palm.

Pooch throughs him some duct tape and he quickly disarms it.

"See ya got Max too!" Jensen cheerfully remarks.

"What?" Clay frowns at him.

"No, I didn't. He got away 'cause I had to dive in after the remote."

"Really?" Jensen frowns in confusion.

"We came across his body further up. If you didn't, then who did?"

"What?" Clay stares at him open-mouthed.

"Clay!" you call out, stepping out from behind a container.

"Oh, it was you!" Jensen remarks with a smile, but it soon drops when realization hits.

"But didn't Clay say, you were working with Roque?"

"It wasn't me!" you shake your head frowning.

Noticing the cuts on your face from haven fallen and you clutching at your injured shoulder, Clay's face turns to one of concern as he takes a step towards you.

"Y/N..."

"Don't!" you yell out, lifting your gun up at him in warning.

"Don't come any closer..."

"We can talk about this..." Clay attempts to reason with you.

"What's there to talk about...?" your voice wavers as you place the gun against the side of your temple then, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

"It's done. I'm done..."

"No! Wait!" Clay pleads at you, tears forming in his eyes now too.

"Please. I don't want to lose you... not like this. Please..."

"You can't lose something you never wanted in the first place" you chuckle almost insanely at him.

"Goodbye-Clay..." you smirk, suddenly turning the gun back onto him.

"Y/N! Wait!" you hear someone yell out from behind you.

"Roque?" you stare in open-mouthed confusion as he comes closer.

"The plane...? You died..."

"Got off when his ass was sprawled out on the ground" Roque responds, nudging his head toward Clay.

"Now, put the gun down, Kid."

"Wasn't gonna shoot him..." you state with a frustrate grunt, blindly waving the gun in their direction.

"Was counting on one of them to take me out instead."

"What?" Clay finally speaks up then, staring at both Roque and you in shock.

"Never mind that" you shrug him off with another wave of your gun, waving it in Roque's direction then.

"How the fuck are you alive?"

Roque lets out a soft chuckle at your remark.

"It was all part of the plan..."

"What-plan?!" both you and Clay yell out in confusion.

"Make Max believe that I turned sides so I could get close enough to kill him" Roque explains like his talking to toddlers.

"Why-the-fuck-didn't-I-know-about-it?!" both you and Clay ask yet again at the same time.

"Shut up, Clay!" you growl at him in frustration.

"But-" Clay tries to speak but you cut him off.

"I'll ask the questions" you snap at him, returning your attention back to Roque then.

"How come I didn't know about this so-called plan?"

"It was Aisha's idea..." Roque replies.

"Aisha...?" Clay and you both turn toward her only to see a gun being pointed directly at Clay.

"Was a great plan..." Aisha smirks, shrugging then.

"Max is dead now and soon you'll be too."

Everyone freezes as they realize what was about to happen, all expect you though.

"Ai-" Clay's words are cut short as a gunshot goes off and Aisha drops to the floor, a bullet hole right between the eyes.

"What...?" you shrug as Clay stares at you open-mouthed.

"She was gonna kill you."

"Uh- not to be a party-pooper, guys..." Jensen interjects himself then.

"We really should be going, before this place is littered with cops."

"We just need to do one thing though" Roque remarks then, stepping toward the container that the money had been in.

"Whoa..." Pooch stares dumbstruck at the two remaining stacks.

"Wasn't gonna let all that money go to waste" Roque smirks.

"Holdup!" you wave your gun at him.

"You still owe me an answer.

"I'll tell ya everything once we're gone from here" Roque replies and goes to load the money into the Hummer.

"Fine" you grumble out.

"Fuck!" you hiss out when your shoulder wound begins to burn once the adrenalin had worn off.

"C'mon..." Clay reaches out to lead you hand.

"Let me help you into the car."

"I'm fine" you grunt, pulling your away from his hold and getting in yourself. Clay's head drops in defeat as he watched you walk away from him.

After patching you up, Roque finally explained the plan, he and Aisha had made before it was revealed that she was Fadhil's daughter. They had Roque reach out to Wade, and make a deal; that he would deliver both the hard drive and the team into a trap set by Max. What Wade didn't know, was that it was all part of their plan; to get Roque close enough to Max to catch him and finally clear their names and get their lives back.

"We decided the less people knew about the plan, the more believable it would be" Roque had explained.

"I get that" you nod in understanding.

"But why get me into the double-crossing bit?"

"Had to give you a reason to live..." Roque states.

"For-fucks-sake-kid... you were about to blow your brains out!"

"Don't remind me" you grumble out, a bit embarrassed.

"What-the-fuck?!" Pooch, Jensen and Cougar stares open-mouthed at his comment.

"Long story..." you shrug them off, pointing toward Clay then.

"Mostly that one's fault."

You notice the look of regret crossing Clay's features as he flinches at your words and the guys shoot daggered stares at him.

"Enough about the past" you change the topic then.

"There's enough money for us all to retire. We can all live our lives in peace now... Pooch, isn't Jolene supposed to give birth soon?"

"Yeah, she is..." Pooch smiles deep in thought.

"So, how about we get you home, and then we all can go our separate ways thereafter?" you suggest.

"You're leaving?" a surprised Jensen asks.

You nod, giving Jensen a sad smile.

"We ain't in the business no more, so it's for the best that Roque and I distance ourselves from you guys. Right, Roque?"

Roque faintly smiles, placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.

"That's right, Kid."

Your turns back toward the others as they sadly stare at you.

"It's for the best, guys."

Although not happy with your decision, they all nod in understanding, and that's when you notice the look of pure devastation on Clay's face, but you choose not to acknowledge it.

That bridge has burnt and can never be rebuilt.

"It's a boy and he looks just like me!" an excited Pooch radio's in as the team stood outside in the rain to hear the news.

Clay pops a bottle of champagne as everyone celebrates Pooch becoming a father.

"No thanks" you decline when Cougar offers you a sip from the bottle, looking to Roque then.

"We should get going."

Roque nods in agreement and you go to hug Jensen and Cougar goodbye, turning to Clay with a sorrowful smile.

"Goodbye, Clay."

With pleading eyes, Clay takes a step closer towards you.

"Can we please talk?"

Exhaling heavily, you look down at the ground, then up at Roque. He silently nods at you, addressing Clay by holding out his car keys.

"Here, you two take my car to the hotel, and we'll take the van."

"Thanks, Roque" Clay responds taking them, reaching a hand outward to direct you.

"Shall we..."

*

I was blown away What could I say? It all seemed to make sense You've taken away everything And I can't deal with that I try to see the good in life But good things in life are hard to find

We'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

"I'm sorry" Clay finally speaks out into the quiet car.

"For what?" you ask nonchalantly.

"For being a total asshole toward you. For treating you the way I did."

You're caught off-guard then when his voice begins to waver as tears ran down his cheeks.

"For pushing you to the point of wanting to end your life..."

"You should feel sorry" you respond, your own voice wavering then as well.

"You fuckin' wished I had been on that chopper when it blew up! You fuckin' said it to my face!"

"I didn't mean it" Clay drops his head in shame.

"After the standoff with Fadhil, I wanted you to get on the chopper for your own safety... I almost lost you, if I hadn't reacted fast enough."

"And then you wanted to force me onto a chopper that was shot down the instant it was in the air" you state matter-of-factly.

"I didn't know that was going to happen" Clay whimpers out.

"All those innocent kids... I still have nightmares about it."

You begin to tear up at the memory of that day.

"They were so happy to have been saved..."

*

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

I've taken all I could take And I cannot wait We're wasting too much time Being strong, holding on Can't let it bring us down My life with you means everything So I won't give up that easily

"I have nightmares of you being on that chopper as well" Clay confesses. Grabbing hold of your face and pressing his forehead against yours as he begins crying.

"I-never-meant-it... I-love-you."

"No, you don't!" you cry out, shaking your head in denial.

"I do" Clay insists whilst crying himself.

Pulling yourself from his grip, you glare at him then.

"Then explain Aisha?"

Clay cringes at your remark, dropping his head in shame.

"I'm an asshole... everyone knows it.

"No denying that..." you nod in agreement.

"I did it so that you would hate me, because I was scared" Clay finally admits.

"I'm not good with relationships, with love..."

You scoff at his confession.

"So, you decided to hurt me instead? Because you were afraid of loving me?"

"I would rather lose you emotionally than physically..." Clay states.

"If you want to go and be with Roque, then I understand, as long as you're happy. I just wanted to clear things between us before you do."

"Be with Roque...?" you stare at him confusion.

Clay arches a brow at your remark.

"You're together, aren't you?"

"Heck, no!" you burst out laughing.

"He's just a good friend. One that was there to drag me out of my darkest hours. If it wasn't for him, I'd be in the ground."

Clay stares at you hopefully then.

"So, you're not romantically involved?"

"Nope" you shake your head.

"But you were going to leave together?" Clay scrunches his face in confusion.

"The country, yes. But we were going our separate ways thereafter" you explain.

"Ok" Clay nods, taking in all the information.

"I have one question for you though?"

"Ok" you nod in agreement.

"Would you have pulled the trigger?"

"No" you immediately answer.

"It was a bluff, so that one of the others would shoot me."

"What?" Clay stares at you in shock.

"Why?"

"My plans for a new life were screwed. There was no other way out of the situation but that."

"They never would have done it, you know" Clay comments.

"I know the guys wouldn't have" you respond.

"But Aisha would have, and I was counting on that."

Clay's head drops in realization at it all.

"You're right. Thank you for saving my ass with that situation."

"You're welcome" you respond, smirking at him then.

"I might kinda hate you, but I wasn't about to let her kill you."

Clay flashes you a faint smirk.

"Thanks."

"So... what do we do now?" you awkwardly ask.

"Please, don't go..." Clay stares at you with pleading eyes, and you felt yourself slowly covering.

"Why?"

Taking hold of your hands, Clay brings them to his lips to kiss.

"I love you. I don't want to lose you. Please, give me another chance to prove myself to you?"

*

I'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? 'Cause it's all misunderstood Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

You stare deep in thought at him for a moment.

You still loved him. He loves you. Would it really be such a bad idea to give him another chance?

"One chance..." you state in warning.

"That's all you get. If you mess it up, I'm gone..."

"I can do that" Clay eagerly agrees.

"Good" you smile at his reaction and he smiles at you in return.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Nope" you smirk, shaking your head at him.

"You gotta wine and dine me first..."

"Fair enough..." Clay chuckles at your remark.

You grin at him in response.

"We're doing this the right way this time around, Col. Clay..."

"Yes, Ma'am..." Clay gives you a small salute and you couldn't help but laugh.

"How about a forehead kiss...?" Clay attempts his luck.

Squinting your eyes at him for a second, you faintly smirk.

"Ok."

*

We can't let this get away Let it out, let it out Don't get caught up in yourself Let it out

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

The team was having a family day at Jensen's niece's soccer game.

"Anyone hear from Roque?" Pooch remarks while Jensen keeps shouting at the referee.

"He's good..." you remark in-between bites of your snack.

"Enjoying himself on some exotic beach somewhere."

"Lucky bastard" Jensen comments in-between his arguing and you chuckle out at it.

Your attention goes back to the game as you rest your head against Clay's shoulder.

"You ok?" he stares down at you.

You tilt your head up at him, smiling.

"Yup."

"Good" he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Jolene hands their son to Pooch and he turns to Clay then.

"Col... do you wanna jump on this for me?"

Clay looks at the baby, offended that Pooch would ask him to change the baby's dirty dumper.

"I'd rather jump on a live grenade..."

"It'll be practice, for when your one arrives..." Pooch remarks nudging his head toward you, causing you to burst out laughing.

Clay glares at you, turning back to Pooch then.

"That's different..."

"C'mon..." Pooch begs then.

"I'm invested, I have a hundred dollars in this game."

Clay scoffs at his remark.

"Wait-a-minute... who the hell did you find to bet a hundred dollars on a girl soccer game?"

"Uh... that would be me" you sheepishly left up a hand in confession.

"What?" Clay raises a brow at you.

"Seriously...?"

"You bet against the Petunia?!" Jensen yells out offensively.

You sheepishly raise your hands and shrug.

"It was a good bet."

"The betrayal...!" Jensen scoffs, glaring at you.

"I thought we were family?!"

Something on the field catches his eye before you respond, and he jumps up yelling at the referee again.

One of the opposing team members had pushed his niece onto the group, causing Jensen to jump up and run onto the field in protest.

Clay and you were silently smiling at one another; completely lost in each other's eyes during that moment when suddenly, Cougar taps on Clay's arm and points toward Jensen.

Clay softly chuckles at the scene of Jensen and the referee having a standoff.

"We should probably get him..." you state, a bit concerned.

"We will..." Clay states, pointing between, Pooch, Cougar and himself.

"You stay where you are."

"But-" you begin to protest, but he cuts you off.

"No buts... you're pregnant. Besides, he's still mad at you over the bet.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh out in defeat.

"Fine."

"Good girl" Clay smiles triumphantly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"Love you..."

"Love you too" you respond, smiling.

"Now, go get Jensen... before he gets his ass beaten-up."

"Yes, Ma'am..." Clay chuckles, sneaking another kiss before running off to save Jensen.

Jolene and you sat watching the entire interaction as the guys attempt to calm Jensen down. The both of you chuckling amongst yourselves; Jolene with her son in her arms, and you with a hand absentmindedly on your growing baby bump.

Things were good again. Your future was bright. You finally had a family of your own.

Let's start over It's not over, yeah, yeah This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over...

#Lt. Col. Franklin Clay #clay x y/n #clay x reader #franklin clay #the losers (2010) #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #clay

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 24

A/N: Guess who’s back! Thank you for sticking with me. It’s been a rough several months and I think things are finally getting to a point where I can focus on my hobbies again. As always, feedback is appreciated and Character Q&As are open. Much Love -Em

I had finished the last book on my To Read shelf by mid-May. Hopping off my bed, I went over to my bookshelf. There was only one shelf of space left. The stack to shelve had gotten a tad out of hand. Sighing to myself, I sat down to start reorganizing. I pulled the books from H to Z down to fit the new additions to my collection in. My dad poked his head in when the stack fell over.

“Everything okay in here?” I was surrounded by books. Dad tried not to laugh as he took the scene in. Grabbing books, I turned back to the shelf.

“Perfect. Totally meant to sit in a sea of books this afternoon.”

“Sure. You have fun with that. I have to head into the office for a while. Tell your mother I probably won’t be home for dinner.”

“Will do.” I nodded, not turning my attention back to him.

Monty texted me shortly after I had finished the M’s. What are you up to today?

Organizing my bookshelf. I finished my TBR so now they go in the permanent collection.

Only my girlfriend would make a permanent book collection and a separate section for books that aren’t done.

Hey! Lots of people do this.

Yes honey.

What are you up to today?

Trying to study for my last History test. It’s very boring.

I’m sure it is. If you’re free Saturday, how about a get out of studying free card?

Oh? What did you have in mind Doll? I rolled my eyes and grinned. Of course he thought I meant something dirty.

Cool your jets Monty. I was going to see if you wanted to go to the bookstore with me?

I can make that happen. What time?

I think Clay and I are getting lunch to go over our study guide for the Math final. I could do like 1?

Sounds good. Do you want me to meet you at the bookstore?

Sure. I go to the B&N at the Everglade.

It’s a date.

I smiled and went back to my books.

When it was done, I snapped a picture and sent it to Justin. I finished my TBR! You know what that means?

Oh no. More books?

More books!

Do I have to come with you?

No. The parents gave me a limit of 10 books this time.

Only 10?

I have points saved up. And 10 is a perfectly reasonable amount of new books.

For you? Yes. For normal people? No.

Oh shhh, or I’ll make you come with me.

Okay, okay. It’s reasonable lol. I texted Monty a picture of my bookshelf too. He responded with a laughing emoji.

Teachers were beginning to wrap up final units and hand out study guides for finals. Justin was still mad about summer school so he kept up his not giving a shit attitude. I rolled my eyes whenever he sighed or complained about finals. And I stopped offering to help him. If he wanted to do more work in summer school, that was fine by me. It gave me more time to spend with Monty.

On Saturday, I met Clay at Rosie’s and we both got milkshakes. I wasn’t very hungry, and I didn’t want burger breath later. “So Clay, how’s Hannah doing?”

“I don’t know. We have hung out a few times, and I see her at work, but I don’t think we have hung out hung out.”

“You still haven’t asked her out?”

“I mean, we went to Jeff’s place not together, but we were both there, and I feel like maybe we connected?”

“Connected?”

“Well, we were doing… stuff… and we talked.” My eyes widened.

“Clay Jensen did you do drugs in Jeff’s basement?”

“Maybe?” I was stunned.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Clay Jensen, having fun. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Ha ha.” He joked.

“I’m kidding! But seriously. Take the risk Clay.”

“I’ll think about it. Can we look at this study guide now?” I sighed and pulled it out of my bag. We both shuddered. This is not going to be a pretty exam.

By the time Clay and I called it an afternoon, it was 12:30. That gave me just enough time to get to the city. We packed our notes and headed outside. “Man, I really need a car.” Clay sighed, unlocking his bike.

“Your parents said no?”

“I have a bike.” He waved towards the bike.

“That you do. I would offer you a ride, but I’m headed into the city for the afternoon.”

“No worries, Addy.” He smiled. We waved goodbye and I watched as he biked down the street. I started my car and texted Monty. Leaving Rosie’s now. Might be a little late. Drive safe.

Sounds good, drive safe Doll.

I stopped at Starbucks when I got to the mall and got an iced coffee to sip while I browse and a coffee for Montgomery. He was waiting outside Barnes & Noble for me. “Hey handsome. Fancy seeing you here.” I winked as I walked up to him.

“Hey gorgeous. What can I say, thought it would be a good way to find a girl. You know what they say about the readers.”

“I have a feeling I do.” I laughed and handed him his coffee. “Something to do with being high strung, overachievers with daddy issues?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Monty took my hand and let me lead him into the bookstore. I decided I would keep my ten-book limit to myself. I knew how many points I had, and I still had birthday money left from last year.

He chuckled as I practically dragged him towards the YA section. I didn’t stop to look at the romance displays or the cookbooks or the journals. I was on a mission. There were books to buy. I sipped my coffee as I browsed. As usual, I made my way up and down the aisles quickly once to see if anything immediately caught my eye. A couple of books did, so I grabbed them to look over after I was done my power walk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you move that fast.”

“Ass.” I laughed as I read over the synopsizes of the two books. Neither of them was my cup of tea in the end, so I decided to put them back. I could feel Montgomery watching me as I looked at the shelves. “What?” I asked as I pulled a book down and skimmed the back.

“Nothin’. You’re just cute is all.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. And those shorts are very nice.” I blushed and smiled softly.

“Thanks.” I handed him the book.

“Oh, I see. You needed someone to carry the books.”

“Well, who else would I have asked, when I have my strong, athletic boyfriend to follow me around the store?” He only laughed in response. I grabbed a few more books as I sipped at my coffee. Once in a while, I would notice him watching me and turn to smile at him.

There were six books in Monty’s hands before he finished his coffee. “I’m going to throw this out. Try to leave some books for the next person, okay Bookworm?”

“I’ll try. No promises though.” I mused. By the time he came back, I had three more books. I looked up when I heard him laugh. I grinned at him and held out the books. He took them, tucked them under his arm, and stepped towards me. My brow furrowed and he reached to tuck my hair behind my ear, trailing his hand down to cup the back of my neck, and pull me towards him to kiss me. I kissed him back softly. It was nice to be able to kiss in public. I liked our little bubble. It felt like we were the only two people in the world. He pulled away first.

We continued to peruse the store for a while and stole kisses and glances along the way. Monty slid his hand in my back pocket as we walked. I grabbed another couple of books and sighed. “What’s up?”

“I guess that’s enough books for a little while.”

“For a little while? Addison. There’s like,” he paused to count, “sixteen books here.”

“Yeah. And that isn’t even all of what is on my TBR still. And it’s buy one get one half off all books.” I shrugged.

“Jesus. Crazy woman.” He muttered softly and kissed the side of my head. I sighed and turned to head for the till. After discounts, points, and birthday money, my total was twenty-five dollars.

“Now to figure out how to sneak the extra six books into the house.” I muttered as we left.

“The extra what whats?”

“Uh… nothing.” I smiled sheepishly. He shook his head playfully. “Oh, hey. Pretzels. Split one?”

“Nice change of subject. Sure. Pretzel sounds good.” He rubbed my hand as he held it. This is nice.

In late June, just as finals week was hitting its peak, tragedy struck our little group of jocks. The boys were at Bryce’s trying to blow off some steam. I was trying to be nice to him and make an effort for Justin, so I tagged along. The way his family approached and flaunted their money always took me by surprise. I wasn’t oblivious. I knew my family had more money than most. More than I liked to consider or admit. But it was never flashed around the way it was with the Walkers. I came from old money on my dad’s side, like his mom. But unlike him, I wasn’t exposed to it on a daily basis. The concept of a twice a week maid was enough to widen my eyes. The only time my family had a maid come was when Gran was coming to stay with us, or we were hosting Christmas back when all my grandparents lived state-side, so a very deep clean was needed. The fact that they had a chef come in once a week to meal prep for them was… almost incomprehensible. The only time I met a chef was when I found a hair in my food when my family went out one night.

I had been to his house before of course. I was friends with Justin. We shared custody of him most weeks. Even still, I found myself hanging back and watching the boys socialize. Or I was trying to at least. Bryce thrusting a bottle of water in my hand startled me. I jumped slightly. “Thanks.” I muttered.

“Don’t mention it.” He chuckled. He settled himself next to me and leaned back against the counter.

“Hi.”

“Hi. You know that they will talk to you, right? They know you.”

“I know.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you then.” Great. Just what I want.

“Sure Bryce.”

“How are finals treating you?”

“I cried before my honours English final yesterday.”

“I almost forgot about my math final.”

“So, we are basically in the same boat.”

“Basically. You had bio and history today?”

“Yeah.”

“How were they?”

“I think I did fairly okay. Can you imagine what my mum would do if I bombed the history final?” He stared off into space with me and shivered.

“I would say something nice about you at your funeral.”

“Thanks Walker. Killing me does seem like a lot of hassle for that though. Like it seems like it would just inconvenience them. Maybe locked in my room to study until I’m forty?”

“True. I would text you news updates. Keep you updated in all things Bryce and the boys.”

“Prefect. Make isolation at least a little bit bearable.” He was actually kind of nice sometimes. Maybe. If I squinted.

“Yeah. My dad would have freaked if I missed my math final.”

“How could you take over the family business if you fail tenth grade math Bryce?”

“No idea. Not like he doesn’t pay someone to do all that math for him. Speaking of, he wanted me to ask you if your dad is taking on any new clients now that tax season is winding down?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think he is, but I can get him to email your dad.” I don’t think he’s going to take your dad on.

“I’ll let him know.”

“Where are you off to this summer?”

“I think we are summering in Fiji?”

“Because California isn’t summer-y enough?”

“Mom thinks the sun feels different. More sunny. I tan better in tropical environments.”

“Sure, you do.”

“What are your family’s plans?”

“We have our annual family trip to Boston at the end of July into the first week of August. Dad pushed his vacation time this year.”

“Doesn’t he own the company?”

“Yeah. But his associate wanted to take vacation in mid-July. She’s taking her kids to Disney World.”

“Again, doesn’t he own the company?”

“Again, yes. Why?”

“Shouldn’t he get first pick?”

“Well, our vacation basically costs us airfare, food, and spending money. Hers and everyone else’s costs a lot more. And requires more planning. So, he lets them have first pick and takes whatever’s left for the most part. Because of that, people are more willing to pick fairly.”

“Interesting.”

“Are you two going to come outside or not?” Justin called from the back yard. Bryce and I looked up and found the house empty. All the boys had moved to the back. We shrugged and joined them. I needed to pass the sniff test so I didn’t dare go in the pool house. Anders and Dylan were in the pool house enjoying Bryce’s stash. It was already nearing eighty degrees in the daytime. We were in for a hot summer. Justin pulled off his shirt, dropped his pants, and jumped in the pool. Shaking my head, I followed Bryce outside.

I sat on the edge of the pool and dipped my feet in the water. Monty was trying to be discreet and swim backwards towards me. He stopped just shy of me and shared a look with Zach. I pretended not to notice. It looked like I was busy watching Justin goof off with Bryce and Garrison. I was watching my boyfriend out of the corner of my eye though. I felt a wave close to my foot. “Montgomery. If you touch my foot, I’m not responsible for what happens to your face.” His hand stopped and his eyes widened. Justin laughed and called from across the pool.

“She isn’t wrong dude. She kicked me in the face when I was trying to bug her one time.”

“I wasn’t going to….” Monty trailed off.

“Sure, you weren’t.” I shook my head and moved to stand up. I pulled my tank top over my head. The shorts I was wearing were fine to go in the water.

Seeing as we had to keep up appearances, I couldn’t very well ask Monty to tighten the tie on my bikini top. That would be too much. The boys would question that. Joking around and talking to each other in a group was okay. Touching was not. “Hey Justin, do you mind?” I gestured to my back, not looking at the pool.

“He’s a little busy.” Bryce said. I could hear splashing behind me.

“Zach?”

“Sure.” He climbed out of the pool and untied the bottom strings. He pulled them tighter in a knot and doubled the bow. “Good?”

“Yeah.” I turned around. “Thanks.” Bryce whistled. Gross.

“Why are you keeping her all to yourself again?” He asked Justin. I flipped him off. Why am I being nice to you again?

“I’m not. It’s Addison. Even if I was, I don’t share Bryce.” He seemed to shut the conversation down. Only I could pick up on the stern undertone in his voice. Just as quickly as it came, it was gone, and they were back to goofing off again.

I slipped in the pool and noticing Justin was distracted, I swam over to him and jumped on his back. I may have accidentally splashed Monty in my jumping. I snuck a peek at him and he was rolling his eyes and laughing. “Chicken?” Justin asked. His hands went to my thighs unconsciously.

“No. You dropped me last time. Though it would be entertaining trying to watch the rest of you lift each other.”

“We’re strong.” The boys around me protested. They all made a show of flexing.

“Yes, yes. You’re all strong and hot. With superior athletic abilities. Go you.” I laughed.

“Ha! I told you she thinks I’m hot.” Bryce pointed at Justin.

“It doesn’t count if you’re objectively attractive Walker. I also think the blond guy from the Percy Jackson movie is hot. Because he is objectively attractive.”

“Objectively attractive?”

“You’re lucky you’re rich.” I muttered. Justin choked. “You’re a very pretty man Bryce Walker.”

“Do we get called pretty too Addison?” Monty asked.

“If you don’t call me by my full name again then sure Monty. You are also pretty. Foley, I swear if you drop me, you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.” His hand tightened around my thigh.

The group of us hung out for a while. At some point Scott joined us. Even though we weren’t friends per say, he was still nice to me when I was around. He swam over to my corner of the pool. “I’m supposed to ask you if you think I’m pretty?”

“Scott. If you don’t know you’re pretty, I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Alright then. Why was I supposed to ask?”

“I acknowledged Bryce is objectively attractive and the children felt left out.”

“I see. Why are you hiding in a corner?”

“Hiding from Justin. He’s trying to get me to play chicken. But I don’t feel like getting dropped again.”

“And why does he think you’d get to play with anyone else?”

“I think the attempt would be very entertaining actually.” There was a ringing over by the table.

“Someone’s phone is ringing.” I called. The ringing stopped and started again immediately. Zach looked up. It was his phone.

“It’s probably his mommy calling to tell him he has to come home before it gets dark.” Bryce teased. The boys laughed. I even chuckled a little to myself. Oh, how bad I would feel about that chuckle in a few hours. Zach splashed him. By the time the phone began its second round of ringing again, Zach was out of the pool and grabbing it. He was smiling when he answered it.

“Hey Mom. I’m com-.” It was quiet. “Yeah, I’ll be right home.” He hung up and quickly pulled on his pants, over his wet swim trucks. He threw on his shirt and practically sprinted back in the house. He didn’t say a word to any of us as he left.

“What’s going on with him?” Bryce said. We all stared after him.

A few hours after I got home, I got a text from Bryce. Justin got the same text. Zach’s dad died. Justin and I sat and looked at each other at the table, shocked. We sat there for a solid ten minutes, trying to absorb the information we had been given. I was sure our friends were in the same position. How did you respond to something like that? None of us had ever lost a parent. Sure, I had lost a couple of grandparents. I probably wasn’t the only one. But they’re sort of expected to die. They’re old. They’ve lived. Our parents weren’t old. Not old enough to die yet anyway. I picked my phone back up and texted Zach the only thing I could think to say. He would hear the words a lot in the next few months. I am so sorry. I knew he wouldn’t answer.

Zach wasn’t at school for the rest of the week. Not that he should have been. He had been excused from all of his other exams. Because of course he should have been. I didn’t see him until I was walking home from a date with Monty over the weekend. He was just… walking around town. He didn’t see me at first. When he noticed me standing up the street, he waved a little. I waved back and slowly walked over to him. Even though Zach Dempsey and I weren’t really friends, we were friendly. That’s why it didn’t feel weird when the only thing my brain said to do, was hug him. He didn’t cry. He didn’t say anything. He just hugged me back. We didn’t talk about that random, silent hug on the street again. Not for a long time at least. We simply nodded as we parted ways. He walked one way and I walked the other.

July changed a lot of things. Bryce left town with his family a few days after Zach’s dad’s funeral. Seth was back in town too. That meant Justin spent most of the first couple of weeks of July at my house. He was right. My parents were not happy about him doing summer school. As his not-mom my mum had a strict ‘no fun until homework is done and checked’ rule. At first, I spent my time with Monty during school hours. We weren’t really sure what the summer meant for our relationship. Those first few dates, we mostly talked about that.

“Well, I don’t want to not see you.” Monty said, between kisses in the backseat of my car. We had parked at a secluded clearing overlooking the river.

“I don’t want to not see you either. It’s going to be hard though.”

“Don’t talk about hard right now Doll. Please.” I pulled away and looked at him wide-eyed. “You don’t strike me as a public sex kind of girl. And I don’t want to get a public indecency charge.”

“Yeah. I’m not.” I sat up. “Justin being at my place complicates things.”

“Oh, I know.” He ground out as he adjusted his jeans. I could tell my cheeks were flushed.

“We knew we couldn’t see each other every day.”

“But it’s not easy not seeing you.”

“I know it’s not.”

“Why does this have to be so hard?” He sat back.

“I don’t know.” Neither of us were ready nor willing to have the ‘tell other people’ talk. Even though it had been almost a year. And probably needed to happen.

“Seeing each other while school is in, isn’t such a bad thing, is it?”

“No.”

“And I do have other friends. I could say I’m going to the city with Alex or something. Give us some more time?”

“That’s true.”

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “I could take you to the bookstore.” He blinked at me. “What?”

“The bookstore?”

“It’s air conditioned.” I shrugged and climbed into his lap. His hands instinctively found their way to my hips.

“You just need someone to carry your books again.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I smirked.

There was something different about Justin since he started summer school. I couldn’t put my finger on it. He was… distracted. I noticed he spent more time on his phone after homework than paying attention to what we were doing. Which was fine when it was show re-runs or my mom’s pick for movie night. But when you’re trying to play Ticket to Ride with a guy, it’s much easier when they are paying attention. “Hey. Earth to Justin. Hello?”

“Huh?” He looked up from his phone.

“It’s been your turn for the past five minutes.”

“Shit, sorry.” He looked at his cards and the map. Picking up a red and a pink from the pile, he settled back in his chair. Interesting. I frowned at the board, trying to figure out what he was doing. I came back with nothing. His phone buzzed again. I glanced at it. So did he. Then my phone buzzed. He glanced at it. So, did I. It was like we were waiting to see who would grab their phone first. After a few beats, his hand went to his phone. He smirked a little and put it down. I didn’t check mine.

I came home from a date with Monty a little late on Thursday. It was nearing five when I walked in the door, after I fixed my hair. I dropped my purse and stopped dead in my tracks. Justin had company. Company in the form of Jessica Davis. Who was currently sitting in his lap. On my couch. Making out with him. On my couch. They had their hands up each other’s shirts. On my couch. I cleared my throat. Jessica pulled away and turned towards me. “Oh, hey Addy.” She greeted, like this was normal.

“Hey Addy. You’re… just getting home?” His speech was slowed. Are you shitting me?

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“Your parents said I could have a friend over after class.”

“Okay.” I blinked. She was still perched in his lap. I glanced at the clock. “I suggest you fix your shirts because they should be home soon. And I don’t think they want to see, uh, this.” I motioned in their general direction. Jessica laughed and climbed off Justin.

“Oh, don’t be such a priss, Addison.”

“I’m not being a priss. I just wasn’t expecting to come home to people making out on my couch.” She rolled her eyes. “Great to see you too. Hey, Justin. Can I steal you for a sec?” I waved upstairs. “There’s snacks in the cupboard, Jess.”

Justin followed me upstairs, trying not to giggle at, assumingly, the fact that he didn’t get caught by my parents. I shut the door when we got to my room. “What the fuck Justin?”

“What?” He shrugged.

“What do you mean what?”

“What?”

“Making out with a girl on our couch?” He was trying to avoid eye contact. My parents are going to kill him.

“No one was home. It’s not a big deal.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know, a couple weeks?” I blinked at him. He was still trying to look away from me. I grabbed his face and made him look at me.

“Are you fucking high right now?”

“No? What? Why would you ask that?” His eyes were bloodshot. He was acting very much like Justin when Justin has been indulging in Bryce’s stash.

“Don’t lie to me Justin Foley. You know my parent’s rules. Do you want them to freak out?”

“Oh, come on Addison. It was a little weed. It’s not that big of a deal.” I sighed heavily.

“You know what, whatever. You obviously don’t care. So, I suggest you tell your girlfriend to leave or figure out a way to sober up before they get home. And if that fails, tell her to leave, and come hide in here until you’re sober enough to face them.” I grabbed a book off my shelf and went back downstairs. I nodded at Jessica, who had made herself some crackers and dip. Sitting at the table, I texted Monty.

Justin and Jessica? Did you know about this? He responded a couple of minutes later.

No? Actually?

Yeah. They were making out on my couch when I got home. And to make things even more awkward and complicated, they’re both high.

I mean, to be fair, weed isn’t really that bad.

Yeah. I know. But that’s not the point. My parents are going to freak. Now is really not the time to be pissing them off.

Oh crap. You guys leave for Boston soon, don’t you?

Next week. And if Justin can’t keep his shit together… I left the unspoken implication hang in cyberspace. Are you really just going to ignore the fact that they were on the couch?

I was hoping to just ignore that fact.

Our make out spots are becoming fewer and further between.

We could just stay in your bed, Doll.

But the couch has the TV. So we can not watch a movie without worrying about my laptop falling.

“Who you texting so much?” Jessica asked, trying to peer at my phone.

“Friend from Boston.” I said, locking my phone.

“Oh, friend from Boston, you say? Is he cute?”

“I guess? His girlfriend probably thinks so.”

“Oh. Not a secret long distance lover then?”

“No. And we grew up together. It would be weird.” I slipped my phone in my pocket and grabbed some cereal. We both looked up when my parents got home. I took that as my cue to go get Justin. I practically kicked him downstairs so he could go entertain his girlfriend with my parents and I could have some time to process how I missed it. Probably the same way he has missed me having a boyfriend for… almost a year.

The day before we left for Boston, Justin and I were running around like mad men. I had plans with Monty and Justin had plans with Jessica tonight, so I didn’t want to be too long packing. Unfortunately, neither of us could find anything we wanted to bring. It was going to be nice so I wanted to bring some dresses. We had a few things planned, but like with our other trips, there would be plenty of time to lounge around the house.

“Have you seen my pink and green dress?”

“The one with the stripes? No. Have you seen my blue shirt?”

“I think mum put it in the wash.”

“Okay.” Justin went down the hall to the bathroom. “Has anyone seen my shampoo?” He called.

“It’s in here.” My dad called from their room. I was busy ripping apart my closet. I groaned in frustration.

“You know, it’s just Boston. We go every year.”

“I know Justin. I just like to be prepared for every eventuality.”

“Yeah. Wait… are you trying to impress Adrian?” Justin laughed. I turned and he was leaning against the doorframe.

“No. Absolutely not. Besides, he has a girlfriend.” A girlfriend I happen to like.

“If you say so.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes and flipped him off as he went back to packing his bag. I gave up on my closet and decided to tackle our toiletries. I wasn’t too concerned with travel sizes because it was all going in my checked luggage.

“Decide what book you’re taking with you Addy?”

“Don’t you mean books, plural? It is a 6-hour flight after all.” He laughed.

“Okay, okay. Books?”

“I’m happy you asked.” I grinned as I pulled out the Barnes & Noble bag from under my bed. His jaw dropped. I shrugged.

“Your parents are going to freak.”

“They know I went book shopping.”

After a very long day of packing, Justin left to go meet Jessica. I texted Monty to let him know I would be leaving in about fifteen minutes. “I’m going to hang out with Alex and Clay for a bit.” I told my parents.

“Just remember we leave early tomorrow for the airport Addison.” My dad said, not looking up from his list. My mom was emptying the fridge.

“I will.”

When I got to the cliffside where we agreed to meet, Monty was waiting for me. I couldn’t help myself. I ran and held onto him like it was the last time I would ever see him. “You’re only leaving for two weeks Addison.” He grunted at the impact.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” He kissed the top of my head. We stood like that for a few more minutes before finally separating. I took his hand and led him up the trail. It was good for both of us to be walking the trails. He was starting summer training with the boys while we were gone, and I was going to be sitting for around 8 hours straight tomorrow. Provided our flight wasn’t delayed, of course. It was just starting to get dark, and I stopped along the way to take in the town’s skyline in the evening dusk. Monty rested his chin on top of my head, and I sighed, leaning back into him. It was so peaceful. I looked up and him and noticed a small bruise forming on his jaw. Not wanting to start a fight right before I left for two weeks, I pretended I hadn’t seen it. I smiled sadly to myself still. I wish he would just talk to me about it.

After a few hours, wandering around and soaking in the last time we would have for a couple of weeks, which feels like an eternity when you’re 16, we knew it was time to say goodbye. When we got to the parking lot, he made me turn around at his Jeep. I furrowed my brow. Before I could ask, he twirled his finger in the air. I clamped my mouth closed and turned. He rummaged around for a minute. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see. Just wait a minute.” I huffed. He chuckled. “Ah.” He muttered. He tapped me on the shoulder. I turned. He held out a small Barnes and Noble bag. I was taken aback. I wasn’t expecting anything. I pointed at the bag and then at me.

“F-for me?”

“It’s not much so don’t start.” He smiled, shyly.

“Okay.” I took the bag.

“I can’t wrap stuff worth shit, so the bag is as good as you’re going to get.” I laughed and shrugged. It was a fair enough explanation. I opened the bag and pulled out a spiralbound notebook. The cover was pink with the titles of all the classics on it. I smiled. “You won’t be here for your birthday, and I know your notebook is getting full so….” Monty trailed off.

“Thank you. This is really sweet.” I flipped it open and gasped. On the first page, he had drawn a book like on the cover, and titled it The Next Classic and written Hawthorne at the bottom where the author’s last name sometimes appears.

“Happy birthday, Addison.”

“Oh.” I smiled. My eyes had started to tear up. This was the sweetest gift anyone had ever given me. I closed the gap between us and kissed him. He pulled me closer to him and I deepened the kiss just a little. Not too much, just enough to make him remember me while I was gone.I had finished the last book on my To Read shelf by mid-May. Hopping off my bed, I went over to my bookshelf. There was only one shelf of space left. The stack to shelve had gotten a tad out of hand. Sighing to myself, I sat down to start reorganizing. I pulled the books from H to Z down to fit the new additions to my collection in. My dad poked his head in when the stack fell over. “Everything okay in here?” I was surrounded by books. Dad tried not to laugh as he took the scene in. Grabbing books, I turned back to the shelf.“Perfect. Totally meant to sit in a sea of books this afternoon.” “Sure. You have fun with that. I have to head into the office for a while. Tell your mother I probably won’t be home for dinner.” “Will do.” I nodded, not turning my attention back to him. Monty texted me shortly after I had finished the M’s. What are you up to today? Organizing my bookshelf. I finished my TBR so now they go in the permanent collection. Only my girlfriend would make a permanent book collection and a separate section for books that aren’t done. Hey! Lots of people do this. Yes honey. What are you up to today? Trying to study for my last History test. It’s very boring. I’m sure it is. If you’re free Saturday, how about a get out of studying free card? Oh? What did you have in mind Doll? I rolled my eyes and grinned. Of course he thought I meant something dirty. Cool your jets Monty. I was going to see if you wanted to go to the bookstore with me?I can make that happen. What time? I think Clay and I are getting lunch to go over our study guide for the Math final. I could do like 1?Sounds good. Do you want me to meet you at the bookstore? Sure. I go to the B&N at the Everglade. It’s a date. I smiled and went back to my books. When it was done, I snapped a picture and sent it to Justin. I finished my TBR! You know what that means?Oh no. More books? More books! Do I have to come with you?No. The parents gave me a limit of 10 books this time. Only 10?I have points saved up. And 10 is a perfectly reasonable amount of new books. For you? Yes. For normal people? No. Oh shhh, or I’ll make you come with me. Okay, okay. It’s reasonable lol. I texted Monty a picture of my bookshelf too. He responded with a laughing emoji. Teachers were beginning to wrap up final units and hand out study guides for finals. Justin was still mad about summer school so he kept up his not giving a shit attitude. I rolled my eyes whenever he sighed or complained about finals. And I stopped offering to help him. If he wanted to do more work in summer school, that was fine by me. It gave me more time to spend with Monty. On Saturday, I met Clay at Rosie’s and we both got milkshakes. I wasn’t very hungry, and I didn’t want burger breath later. “So Clay, how’s Hannah doing?” “I don’t know. We have hung out a few times, and I see her at work, but I don’t think we have hung out hung out.” “You still haven’t asked her out?” “I mean, we went to Jeff’s place not together, but we were both there, and I feel like maybe we connected?” “Connected?” “Well, we were doing… stuff… and we talked.” My eyes widened. “Clay Jensen did you do drugs in Jeff’s basement?” “Maybe?” I was stunned. “Well, I’ll be damned. Clay Jensen, having fun. I never thought I’d see the day.”“Ha ha.” He joked. “I’m kidding! But seriously. Take the risk Clay.” “I’ll think about it. Can we look at this study guide now?” I sighed and pulled it out of my bag. We both shuddered. This is not going to be a pretty exam.By the time Clay and I called it an afternoon, it was 12:30. That gave me just enough time to get to the city. We packed our notes and headed outside. “Man, I really need a car.” Clay sighed, unlocking his bike. “Your parents said no?” “I have a bike.” He waved towards the bike. “That you do. I would offer you a ride, but I’m headed into the city for the afternoon.” “No worries, Addy.” He smiled. We waved goodbye and I watched as he biked down the street. I started my car and texted Monty. Leaving Rosie’s now. Might be a little late. Drive safe. Sounds good, drive safe Doll. I stopped at Starbucks when I got to the mall and got an iced coffee to sip while I browse and a coffee for Montgomery. He was waiting outside Barnes & Noble for me. “Hey handsome. Fancy seeing you here.” I winked as I walked up to him.“Hey gorgeous. What can I say, thought it would be a good way to find a girl. You know what they say about the readers.” “I have a feeling I do.” I laughed and handed him his coffee. “Something to do with being high strung, overachievers with daddy issues?” “Somethin’ like that.” Monty took my hand and let me lead him into the bookstore. I decided I would keep my ten-book limit to myself. I knew how many points I had, and I still had birthday money left from last year. He chuckled as I practically dragged him towards the YA section. I didn’t stop to look at the romance displays or the cookbooks or the journals. I was on a mission. There were books to buy. I sipped my coffee as I browsed. As usual, I made my way up and down the aisles quickly once to see if anything immediately caught my eye. A couple of books did, so I grabbed them to look over after I was done my power walk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you move that fast.” “Ass.” I laughed as I read over the synopsizes of the two books. Neither of them was my cup of tea in the end, so I decided to put them back. I could feel Montgomery watching me as I looked at the shelves. “What?” I asked as I pulled a book down and skimmed the back. “Nothin’. You’re just cute is all.” “Oh?” “Yeah. And those shorts are very nice.” I blushed and smiled softly. “Thanks.” I handed him the book. “Oh, I see. You needed someone to carry the books.”“Well, who else would I have asked, when I have my strong, athletic boyfriend to follow me around the store?” He only laughed in response. I grabbed a few more books as I sipped at my coffee. Once in a while, I would notice him watching me and turn to smile at him. There were six books in Monty’s hands before he finished his coffee. “I’m going to throw this out. Try to leave some books for the next person, okay Bookworm?” “I’ll try. No promises though.” I mused. By the time he came back, I had three more books. I looked up when I heard him laugh. I grinned at him and held out the books. He took them, tucked them under his arm, and stepped towards me. My brow furrowed and he reached to tuck my hair behind my ear, trailing his hand down to cup the back of my neck, and pull me towards him to kiss me. I kissed him back softly. It was nice to be able to kiss in public. I liked our little bubble. It felt like we were the only two people in the world. He pulled away first. We continued to peruse the store for a while and stole kisses and glances along the way. Monty slid his hand in my back pocket as we walked. I grabbed another couple of books and sighed. “What’s up?” “I guess that’s enough books for a little while.” “For a little while? Addison. There’s like,” he paused to count, “sixteen books here.” “Yeah. And that isn’t even all of what is on my TBR still. And it’s buy one get one half off all books.” I shrugged. “Jesus. Crazy woman.” He muttered softly and kissed the side of my head. I sighed and turned to head for the till. After discounts, points, and birthday money, my total was twenty-five dollars. “Now to figure out how to sneak the extra six books into the house.” I muttered as we left. “The extra what whats?” “Uh… nothing.” I smiled sheepishly. He shook his head playfully. “Oh, hey. Pretzels. Split one?” “Nice change of subject. Sure. Pretzel sounds good.” He rubbed my hand as he held it. This is nice. In late June, just as finals week was hitting its peak, tragedy struck our little group of jocks. The boys were at Bryce’s trying to blow off some steam. I was trying to be nice to him and make an effort for Justin, so I tagged along. The way his family approached and flaunted their money always took me by surprise. I wasn’t oblivious. I knew my family had more money than most. More than I liked to consider or admit. But it was never flashed around the way it was with the Walkers. I came from old money on my dad’s side, like his mom. But unlike him, I wasn’t exposed to it on a daily basis. The concept of a twice a week maid was enough to widen my eyes. The only time my family had a maid come was when Gran was coming to stay with us, or we were hosting Christmas back when all my grandparents lived state-side, so a very deep clean was needed. The fact that they had a chef come in once a week to meal prep for them was… almost incomprehensible. The only time I met a chef was when I found a hair in my food when my family went out one night. I had been to his house before of course. I was friends with Justin. We shared custody of him most weeks. Even still, I found myself hanging back and watching the boys socialize. Or I was trying to at least. Bryce thrusting a bottle of water in my hand startled me. I jumped slightly. “Thanks.” I muttered. “Don’t mention it.” He chuckled. He settled himself next to me and leaned back against the counter. “Hi.” “Hi. You know that they will talk to you, right? They know you.” “I know.” “Okay. I’ll talk to you then.” Great. Just what I want. “Sure Bryce.” “How are finals treating you?” “I cried before my honours English final yesterday.” “I almost forgot about my math final.” “So, we are basically in the same boat.” “Basically. You had bio and history today?” “Yeah.” “How were they?” “I think I did fairly okay. Can you imagine what my mum would do if I bombed the history final?” He stared off into space with me and shivered. “I would say something nice about you at your funeral.” “Thanks Walker. Killing me does seem like a lot of hassle for that though. Like it seems like it would just inconvenience them. Maybe locked in my room to study until I’m forty?” “True. I would text you news updates. Keep you updated in all things Bryce and the boys.” “Prefect. Make isolation at least a little bit bearable.” He was actually kind of nice sometimes. Maybe. If I squinted.“Yeah. My dad would have freaked if I missed my math final.” “How could you take over the family business if you fail tenth grade math Bryce?” “No idea. Not like he doesn’t pay someone to do all that math for him. Speaking of, he wanted me to ask you if your dad is taking on any new clients now that tax season is winding down?” “I don’t know. I don’t think he is, but I can get him to email your dad.” I don’t think he’s going to take your dad on. “I’ll let him know.” “Where are you off to this summer?” “I think we are summering in Fiji?” “Because California isn’t summer-y enough?” “Mom thinks the sun feels different. More sunny. I tan better in tropical environments.” “Sure, you do.”“What are your family’s plans?” “We have our annual family trip to Boston at the end of July into the first week of August. Dad pushed his vacation time this year.” “Doesn’t he own the company?” “Yeah. But his associate wanted to take vacation in mid-July. She’s taking her kids to Disney World.” “Again, doesn’t he own the company?”“Again, yes. Why?” “Shouldn’t he get first pick?” “Well, our vacation basically costs us airfare, food, and spending money. Hers and everyone else’s costs a lot more. And requires more planning. So, he lets them have first pick and takes whatever’s left for the most part. Because of that, people are more willing to pick fairly.” “Interesting.”“Are you two going to come outside or not?” Justin called from the back yard. Bryce and I looked up and found the house empty. All the boys had moved to the back. We shrugged and joined them. I needed to pass the sniff test so I didn’t dare go in the pool house. Anders and Dylan were in the pool house enjoying Bryce’s stash. It was already nearing eighty degrees in the daytime. We were in for a hot summer. Justin pulled off his shirt, dropped his pants, and jumped in the pool. Shaking my head, I followed Bryce outside. I sat on the edge of the pool and dipped my feet in the water. Monty was trying to be discreet and swim backwards towards me. He stopped just shy of me and shared a look with Zach. I pretended not to notice. It looked like I was busy watching Justin goof off with Bryce and Garrison. I was watching my boyfriend out of the corner of my eye though. I felt a wave close to my foot. “Montgomery. If you touch my foot, I’m not responsible for what happens to your face.” His hand stopped and his eyes widened. Justin laughed and called from across the pool. “She isn’t wrong dude. She kicked me in the face when I was trying to bug her one time.” “I wasn’t going to….” Monty trailed off. “Sure, you weren’t.” I shook my head and moved to stand up. I pulled my tank top over my head. The shorts I was wearing were fine to go in the water. Seeing as we had to keep up appearances, I couldn’t very well ask Monty to tighten the tie on my bikini top. That would be too much. The boys would question that. Joking around and talking to each other in a group was okay. Touching was not. “Hey Justin, do you mind?” I gestured to my back, not looking at the pool. “He’s a little busy.” Bryce said. I could hear splashing behind me. “Zach?” “Sure.” He climbed out of the pool and untied the bottom strings. He pulled them tighter in a knot and doubled the bow. “Good?” “Yeah.” I turned around. “Thanks.” Bryce whistled. Gross.“Why are you keeping her all to yourself again?” He asked Justin. I flipped him off. Why am I being nice to you again? “I’m not. It’s Addison. Even if I was, I don’t share Bryce.” He seemed to shut the conversation down. Only I could pick up on the stern undertone in his voice. Just as quickly as it came, it was gone, and they were back to goofing off again. I slipped in the pool and noticing Justin was distracted, I swam over to him and jumped on his back. I may have accidentally splashed Monty in my jumping. I snuck a peek at him and he was rolling his eyes and laughing. “Chicken?” Justin asked. His hands went to my thighs unconsciously. “No. You dropped me last time. Though it would be entertaining trying to watch the rest of you lift each other.” “We’re strong.” The boys around me protested. They all made a show of flexing. “Yes, yes. You’re all strong and hot. With superior athletic abilities. Go you.” I laughed. “Ha! I told you she thinks I’m hot.” Bryce pointed at Justin. “It doesn’t count if you’re objectively attractive Walker. I also think the blond guy from the Percy Jackson movie is hot. Because he is objectively attractive.” “Objectively attractive?” “You’re lucky you’re rich.” I muttered. Justin choked. “You’re a very pretty man Bryce Walker.” “Do we get called pretty too Addison?” Monty asked.“If you don’t call me by my full name again then sure Monty. You are also pretty. Foley, I swear if you drop me, you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.” His hand tightened around my thigh. The group of us hung out for a while. At some point Scott joined us. Even though we weren’t friends per say, he was still nice to me when I was around. He swam over to my corner of the pool. “I’m supposed to ask you if you think I’m pretty?” “Scott. If you don’t know you’re pretty, I don’t know what to say to you.” “Alright then. Why was I supposed to ask?” “I acknowledged Bryce is objectively attractive and the children felt left out.” “I see. Why are you hiding in a corner?” “Hiding from Justin. He’s trying to get me to play chicken. But I don’t feel like getting dropped again.” “And why does he think you’d get to play with anyone else?” “I think the attempt would be very entertaining actually.” There was a ringing over by the table. “Someone’s phone is ringing.” I called. The ringing stopped and started again immediately. Zach looked up. It was his phone. “It’s probably his mommy calling to tell him he has to come home before it gets dark.” Bryce teased. The boys laughed. I even chuckled a little to myself. Oh, how bad I would feel about that chuckle in a few hours. Zach splashed him. By the time the phone began its second round of ringing again, Zach was out of the pool and grabbing it. He was smiling when he answered it. “Hey Mom. I’m com-.” It was quiet. “Yeah, I’ll be right home.” He hung up and quickly pulled on his pants, over his wet swim trucks. He threw on his shirt and practically sprinted back in the house. He didn’t say a word to any of us as he left.“What’s going on with him?” Bryce said. We all stared after him. A few hours after I got home, I got a text from Bryce. Justin got the same text. Zach’s dad died. Justin and I sat and looked at each other at the table, shocked. We sat there for a solid ten minutes, trying to absorb the information we had been given. I was sure our friends were in the same position. How did you respond to something like that? None of us had ever lost a parent. Sure, I had lost a couple of grandparents. I probably wasn’t the only one. But they’re sort of expected to die. They’re old. They’ve lived. Our parents weren’t old. Not old enough to die yet anyway. I picked my phone back up and texted Zach the only thing I could think to say. He would hear the words a lot in the next few months. I am so sorry. I knew he wouldn’t answer. Zach wasn’t at school for the rest of the week. Not that he should have been. He had been excused from all of his other exams. Because of course he should have been. I didn’t see him until I was walking home from a date with Monty over the weekend. He was just… walking around town. He didn’t see me at first. When he noticed me standing up the street, he waved a little. I waved back and slowly walked over to him. Even though Zach Dempsey and I weren’t really friends, we were friendly. That’s why it didn’t feel weird when the only thing my brain said to do, was hug him. He didn’t cry. He didn’t say anything. He just hugged me back. We didn’t talk about that random, silent hug on the street again. Not for a long time at least. We simply nodded as we parted ways. He walked one way and I walked the other. July changed a lot of things. Bryce left town with his family a few days after Zach’s dad’s funeral. Seth was back in town too. That meant Justin spent most of the first couple of weeks of July at my house. He was right. My parents were not happy about him doing summer school. As his not-mom my mum had a strict ‘no fun until homework is done and checked’ rule. At first, I spent my time with Monty during school hours. We weren’t really sure what the summer meant for our relationship. Those first few dates, we mostly talked about that. “Well, I don’t want to not see you.” Monty said, between kisses in the backseat of my car. We had parked at a secluded clearing overlooking the river. “I don’t want to not see you either. It’s going to be hard though.” “Don’t talk about hard right now Doll. Please.” I pulled away and looked at him wide-eyed. “You don’t strike me as a public sex kind of girl. And I don’t want to get a public indecency charge.” “Yeah. I’m not.” I sat up. “Justin being at my place complicates things.” “Oh, I know.” He ground out as he adjusted his jeans. I could tell my cheeks were flushed. “We knew we couldn’t see each other every day.” “But it’s not easy not seeing you.” “I know it’s not.” “Why does this have to be so hard?” He sat back. “I don’t know.” Neither of us were ready nor willing to have the ‘tell other people’ talk. Even though it had been almost a year. And probably needed to happen. “Seeing each other while school is in, isn’t such a bad thing, is it?” “No.” “And I do have other friends. I could say I’m going to the city with Alex or something. Give us some more time?” “That’s true.” I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “I could take you to the bookstore.” He blinked at me. “What?” “The bookstore?” “It’s air conditioned.” I shrugged and climbed into his lap. His hands instinctively found their way to my hips. “You just need someone to carry your books again.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I smirked. There was something different about Justin since he started summer school. I couldn’t put my finger on it. He was… distracted. I noticed he spent more time on his phone after homework than paying attention to what we were doing. Which was fine when it was show re-runs or my mom’s pick for movie night. But when you’re trying to play Ticket to Ride with a guy, it’s much easier when they are paying attention. “Hey. Earth to Justin. Hello?”“Huh?” He looked up from his phone. “It’s been your turn for the past five minutes.” “Shit, sorry.” He looked at his cards and the map. Picking up a red and a pink from the pile, he settled back in his chair. Interesting. I frowned at the board, trying to figure out what he was doing. I came back with nothing. His phone buzzed again. I glanced at it. So did he. Then my phone buzzed. He glanced at it. So, did I. It was like we were waiting to see who would grab their phone first. After a few beats, his hand went to his phone. He smirked a little and put it down. I didn’t check mine. I came home from a date with Monty a little late on Thursday. It was nearing five when I walked in the door, after I fixed my hair. I dropped my purse and stopped dead in my tracks. Justin had company. Company in the form of Jessica Davis. Who was currently sitting in his lap. On my couch. Making out with him. On my couch. They had their hands up each other’s shirts. On my couch. I cleared my throat. Jessica pulled away and turned towards me. “Oh, hey Addy.” She greeted, like this was normal. “Hey Addy. You’re… just getting home?” His speech was slowed. Are you shitting me? “Yeah. What’s going on?” “Your parents said I could have a friend over after class.” “Okay.” I blinked. She was still perched in his lap. I glanced at the clock. “I suggest you fix your shirts because they should be home soon. And I don’t think they want to see, uh, this.” I motioned in their general direction. Jessica laughed and climbed off Justin. “Oh, don’t be such a priss, Addison.” “I’m not being a priss. I just wasn’t expecting to come home to people making out on my couch.” She rolled her eyes. “Great to see you too. Hey, Justin. Can I steal you for a sec?” I waved upstairs. “There’s snacks in the cupboard, Jess.” Justin followed me upstairs, trying not to giggle at, assumingly, the fact that he didn’t get caught by my parents. I shut the door when we got to my room. “What the fuck Justin?” “What?” He shrugged. “What do you mean what?” “What?” “Making out with a girl on our couch?” He was trying to avoid eye contact. My parents are going to kill him. “No one was home. It’s not a big deal.” “How long has this been going on?” “I don’t know, a couple weeks?” I blinked at him. He was still trying to look away from me. I grabbed his face and made him look at me. “Are you fucking high right now?” “No? What? Why would you ask that?” His eyes were bloodshot. He was acting very much like Justin when Justin has been indulging in Bryce’s stash. “Don’t lie to me Justin Foley. You know my parent’s rules. Do you want them to freak out?” “Oh, come on Addison. It was a little weed. It’s not that big of a deal.” I sighed heavily. “You know what, whatever. You obviously don’t care. So, I suggest you tell your girlfriend to leave or figure out a way to sober up before they get home. And if that fails, tell her to leave, and come hide in here until you’re sober enough to face them.” I grabbed a book off my shelf and went back downstairs. I nodded at Jessica, who had made herself some crackers and dip. Sitting at the table, I texted Monty. Justin and Jessica? Did you know about this? He responded a couple of minutes later. No? Actually?Yeah. They were making out on my couch when I got home. And to make things even more awkward and complicated, they’re both high. I mean, to be fair, weed isn’t really that bad. Yeah. I know. But that’s not the point. My parents are going to freak. Now is really not the time to be pissing them off. Oh crap. You guys leave for Boston soon, don’t you? Next week. And if Justin can’t keep his shit together… I left the unspoken implication hang in cyberspace. Are you really just going to ignore the fact that they were on the couch?I was hoping to just ignore that fact. Our make out spots are becoming fewer and further between. We could just stay in your bed, Doll. But the couch has the TV. So we can not watch a movie without worrying about my laptop falling. “Who you texting so much?” Jessica asked, trying to peer at my phone. “Friend from Boston.” I said, locking my phone. “Oh, friend from Boston, you say? Is he cute?”“I guess? His girlfriend probably thinks so.” “Oh. Not a secret long distance lover then?”“No. And we grew up together. It would be weird.” I slipped my phone in my pocket and grabbed some cereal. We both looked up when my parents got home. I took that as my cue to go get Justin. I practically kicked him downstairs so he could go entertain his girlfriend with my parents and I could have some time to process how I missed it. Probably the same way he has missed me having a boyfriend for… almost a year. The day before we left for Boston, Justin and I were running around like mad men. I had plans with Monty and Justin had plans with Jessica tonight, so I didn’t want to be too long packing. Unfortunately, neither of us could find anything we wanted to bring. It was going to be nice so I wanted to bring some dresses. We had a few things planned, but like with our other trips, there would be plenty of time to lounge around the house. “Have you seen my pink and green dress?” “The one with the stripes? No. Have you seen my blue shirt?”“I think mum put it in the wash.” “Okay.” Justin went down the hall to the bathroom. “Has anyone seen my shampoo?” He called. “It’s in here.” My dad called from their room. I was busy ripping apart my closet. I groaned in frustration. “You know, it’s just Boston. We go every year.” “I know Justin. I just like to be prepared for every eventuality.” “Yeah. Wait… are you trying to impress Adrian?” Justin laughed. I turned and he was leaning against the doorframe. “No. Absolutely not. Besides, he has a girlfriend.” A girlfriend I happen to like. “If you say so.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes and flipped him off as he went back to packing his bag. I gave up on my closet and decided to tackle our toiletries. I wasn’t too concerned with travel sizes because it was all going in my checked luggage. “Decide what book you’re taking with you Addy?” “Don’t you mean books, plural? It is a 6-hour flight after all.” He laughed. “Okay, okay. Books?” “I’m happy you asked.” I grinned as I pulled out the Barnes & Noble bag from under my bed. His jaw dropped. I shrugged. “Your parents are going to freak.” “They know I went book shopping.” After a very long day of packing, Justin left to go meet Jessica. I texted Monty to let him know I would be leaving in about fifteen minutes. “I’m going to hang out with Alex and Clay for a bit.” I told my parents. “Just remember we leave early tomorrow for the airport Addison.” My dad said, not looking up from his list. My mom was emptying the fridge. “I will.” When I got to the cliffside where we agreed to meet, Monty was waiting for me. I couldn’t help myself. I ran and held onto him like it was the last time I would ever see him. “You’re only leaving for two weeks Addison.” He grunted at the impact. “I’m going to miss you.” “I’ll miss you too.” He kissed the top of my head. We stood like that for a few more minutes before finally separating. I took his hand and led him up the trail. It was good for both of us to be walking the trails. He was starting summer training with the boys while we were gone, and I was going to be sitting for around 8 hours straight tomorrow. Provided our flight wasn’t delayed, of course. It was just starting to get dark, and I stopped along the way to take in the town’s skyline in the evening dusk. Monty rested his chin on top of my head, and I sighed, leaning back into him. It was so peaceful. I looked up and him and noticed a small bruise forming on his jaw. Not wanting to start a fight right before I left for two weeks, I pretended I hadn’t seen it. I smiled sadly to myself still. I wish he would just talk to me about it. After a few hours, wandering around and soaking in the last time we would have for a couple of weeks, which feels like an eternity when you’re 16, we knew it was time to say goodbye. When we got to the parking lot, he made me turn around at his Jeep. I furrowed my brow. Before I could ask, he twirled his finger in the air. I clamped my mouth closed and turned. He rummaged around for a minute. “What are you doing?” “You’ll see. Just wait a minute.” I huffed. He chuckled. “Ah.” He muttered. He tapped me on the shoulder. I turned. He held out a small Barnes and Noble bag. I was taken aback. I wasn’t expecting anything. I pointed at the bag and then at me. “F-for me?” “It’s not much so don’t start.” He smiled, shyly. “Okay.” I took the bag. “I can’t wrap stuff worth shit, so the bag is as good as you’re going to get.” I laughed and shrugged. It was a fair enough explanation. I opened the bag and pulled out a spiralbound notebook. The cover was pink with the titles of all the classics on it. I smiled. “You won’t be here for your birthday, and I know your notebook is getting full so….” Monty trailed off. “Thank you. This is really sweet.” I flipped it open and gasped. On the first page, he had drawn a book like on the cover, and titled it The Next Classic and written Hawthorne at the bottom where the author’s last name sometimes appears. “Happy birthday, Addison.” “Oh.” I smiled. My eyes had started to tear up. This was the sweetest gift anyone had ever given me. I closed the gap between us and kissed him. He pulled me closer to him and I deepened the kiss just a little. Not too much, just enough to make him remember me while I was gone. 

#can't go back #Can’t Go Back #jessica davis #clay jensen #montgomery de la cruz #monty x oc #monty x reader #monty de la cruz #monty imagine #13 reasons why #13rw #13 rw #Thirteen Reasons Why #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfic #writing #writer #creative writing #Justin Foley

[boytickler35]

13 Reasons to Tickle part 2

They’re on the way down to Jeff’s basement when he springs the surprise. “So I’ve got two other friends down there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but after last time I needed something to distract you from my feet! They’re totally psyched to get tickled too so it won’t be a problem.”

Clay doesn’t have time to reply until after he’s off the staircase and looking at the couch. Sneakers already off, socked feet propped up on the table in front of the couch, and smiles that, like his are slowly falling away, are Zach Dempsey and Justin Foley.

“What the fuck is Jensen doing here.”

Which mixes with Clay’s “What the hell Jeff, why these two?”

Zach says nothing but his toes curl in their socks in response to the obvious tension in the room.

“Fuck this I’m leaving!”

“Fuck you I am too!” 

Justin moves to stand up and Clay almost turns around to leave when Jeff clears his throat and moves between them. He addresses the pair on the couch first, specifically Justin, but Clay’s more than a little indignant with what he first hears.

    “Listen I know I didn’t mention it was Clay who would be tickling you but does it matter that much? When I told you that I had a friend who was going to tickle me your eyes lit up like it was Christmas and you asked to come along, you didn’t care then who it was. So you’re going to sit down and play nice with Clay cause he’s my friend just like you are.”

    The way Justin blushes gives Clay a superior feeling until Jeff turns to him. “And Clay, come over here.” He motions for Clay to come closer and once he does Jeff tosses an arm over his shoulder and points at the four feet sitting up on the table. “I know I didn’t tell you these two were coming but they’re also my friends and I want all three of you to play nice. And if you do, just think of getting your hands on four of the most ticklish feet in Liberty, or so I’m told, plus mine.”

    He grumbles a bit but Jeff joins them on the couch, sitting between them and adding his feet to the ones already on display. That changes his mind, he’s still not happy about it but the more he looks at those six feet, flexing, squirming, and wiggling, on the table, the more he can’t wait to get his hands on them. Since the first, admittedly somewhat awkward but totally wonderful time that Jeff let him explore his fetish and he and Jeff learned the other boy enjoyed getting his feet tickled, the pair had made it a bit of a regular thing. In the beginning it was just a hangout thing but Clay ended up finding out he could bribe his friend to study harder and do better on tests and projects by tickling him for good grades. The arrangement suited both of them because Jeff moved into firmly B- territory in several classes to both their delight and Clay more regularly got his hands on Jeff’s feet.

    Of course he also got a lot better at tickling, learning just how to tease and manipulate the huge feet to get the most out of them. After a lot of videos on tickling he learned how to tickle beyond just scratching the soles and even thought about using a few tools but then he wouldn’t be touching the feet himself and that made him decide against it. Maybe it was selfish but he could make Jeff howl and beg without a brush or feather. He had long since mapped out the most sensitive spots on his friend’s feet. Of course the silly jock had accused him of not, so he peeled a pair of socks off, an argyle pattern since Jeff had learned he could provoke Clay into giving him a worse tickling when he wore colorful, fun socks, and demonstrated his intimate knowledge of the feet to their owner. That had been about a week ago and he might have worn Jeff out a little too much because the older boy had apparently devised this plot, or used circumstances to his advantage, in order to get people here to divert his attention. 

    He also did a lot of research and soon had Jeff sleeping in socks with lotion soaked in them. The older boy thought it was silly at first but after giving it two weeks he saw the light and did it gleefully from then on. It worked out perfectly too because the other thing Jeff decided he loved was what he called tickle talk. Mostly it consisted of Clay teasing him about his feet and how ticklish they were. It came naturally to some extent, even now it seemed so strange for the jock’s feet to be so helplessly ticklish and Jeff loved hearing stuff like that because he claimed it made him more ticklish. Clay didn’t get it but then he didn’t get the tickling thing and Jeff didn’t get his foot fetish beyond the tickling so they were on pretty even terms...and the ‘tickle talk’ was a lot of fun in a way so he was down for it.

    All of the research and experimenting had come pretty easy though after he realized something very basic, he loved tickling! He isn’t totally sure what he likes about it, the feet obviously, and getting his hands on them, and Jeff also for sure but he’s come to suspect he loves the tickle talk too, or rather the fact that what he says in it is true. He loves the power he has over Jeff’s feet because it didn’t take much for him to get Jeff howling and he has to admit that he thoroughly enjoys being able to wiggle his fingers a bit, even in school when the boy has sneakers on, and getting him to jump a little. It’s his only form of payback against his friend’s relentless teasing about...well everything, related to ticking or not!

    Now he’s going to try it all out on these two assholes...and Jeff but most of it he’d already done to Jeff. He gives them one last dirty look though for good measure which Justin returns and Zach looks away from. He takes a seat and looks out at the feet in front of him, it’s like a buffet of sizes and socks. Justin’s are the smallest and are clad in basic black socks. They don’t stink either which surprises him, Justin is known to be dirty in more than one way. 

    Next are Jeff’s, the ones he’s most familiar with, his toys. He’s wearing a pair of graphic socks, sandy yellow with little fish on them and Jeff knows he loves those socks and has never failed to totally wreak him when he’s worn them. It makes him a little suspicious because he’s saying these two assholes are here because he needs a little break from Clay’s full attention but then wears something he knows will focus attention stage feet!

    Finally is Zach, the biggest pair of feet and clad in pale blue tube socks that go halfway up his calves. The toes are still clenched and he can’t help a barb to start it off, “C’mon Dempsey, so afraid I’ll wreck your feet you’re already holding onto your socks?”

    “Shut up Jensen what are you going to do anyway!” 

    He rolls his eyes at Justin’s outburst but he’s glad the moron asks because he’s about to show them. He moves to Justin’s feet and without any finesse or letting the idiot say anything, grabs them in a headlock and rakes his nails up and down the cotton covered soles. It’s a good thing he’s gotten better at not being kicked in the face while tickling because Justin thrashes worse than Jeff and howls twice as loud! Clay gives him a solid three minutes without a break and then lets him catch his breath.

    The whole time the moron’s mouth is running a mile a minute. “Ohshit! AHHAhHAJenHehEHseHOhOhehoNFuHAHahAHCkYouHOhoHOho!IHIhAHHe’MGoHOhaHOhAHiNGToHOhAHehAKihehEHillYouhoFUHhAHAHA!SThAHAHP!PlHEheHAhASE!”

    Clay reluctantly let up after he heard the pleading...well he waited for a few more pleas and looked up at the panting, red faced jock. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch that, did the great Justin Foley just threaten to kill me for tickling him? And here I thought he was tough enough to take it.”

    He gets a wicked glare but interestingly, the feet remain in grabbing distance. “Fuck you Jensen.” It lacks the force it did last time which is good, he literally just had to beg for someone to stop tickling him, serves him right for being an ass.

    He decides not to respond and moves onto Jeff whose colorfully clad feet have been wiggling in anticipation the whole time and waiting to get totally wreck; tickled until his friend is a laughing mess on the couch but first he needs to play their game. Briefly he wonders if maybe he should be embarrassed that the two assholes on either side are seeing this but it’s not like they can tell anyone without admitting they were there to get tickled too.

    He reaches out and rests his hands on the ankles and looks Jeff straight in the face. “You know what happens now don’t you?” 

    “I don’t know, what?” Jeff gives a coy smile and stretches his toes all the way, making his soles taut and all the more ticklish.

    He runs his fingers along the tops of the strong feet enjoying the feeling of the nylon socks and more so the feet beneath. “I think you know exactly what happens, after all these socks aren’t a coincidence are they?”

    “What are you talking about? I just pulled out whichever socks were on the top and put them on.” There’s the usual mix of excitement, confidence, and trepidation in his voice that Clay’s come to associate with a Jeff who knows he’s about to get tickled. The feet continue their little teasing dance, flexing and stretching and generally being enticing to look at.

    “You mean you didn’t know wearing these would get you totally destroyed?” For a moment he has a brief flash of panic because Jeff...is not all that bright and might actually not know if Clay’s never told him. The other boy’s tanned face smiles just a little wider though and Clay knows Jeff’s playing the game and his fingers move along the sides now and he feels a little jerk and hears Jeff’s breath hitch slightly. The sides of his feet aren't super ticklish but right now Jeff is psyching himself out with anticipation which works in Clay’s favor.

    “Nope.” His face colors red a little like it does when he blatantly lies. 

    “That just makes them all the more deserving of this, boy’s who carelessly tease their feet deserve punishment, especially when they’re ticklish.” He finally moves his fingers down to the soles and feels the feet tense under his hands. “But that’s what you want right, you want me to tickle these monsters?”

    Jeff nods.

    “And you want to hear how I think it’s unbelievable that big, tough Jeff is actually a helpless little boy when his get his sneakers off?”

    “Yes.”

He drags a finger up the socked foot and feels it squirm but Jeff doesn’t pull away. He traces patterns across the feet, playing connect the dots with the little fish and making sure he connects all the really ticklish spots. Justin and Zach are both looking on in confusion and maybe a bit of disgust but neither say anything, probably in an effort to save their own feet. He’ll get to them later.

“It’s hard to believe the Liberty Tigers’ star hitter and first basemen can’t handle a little tickling.”

He continues to scratch the feet lightly, moving on to the heel and enjoying the warmth of the feet under his fingers and the suppleness of the skin as he presses down on it and feels spring back up.

“I mean look at these monster, the muscles, veins, I can see them through your socks! And to think, they’re softer than a little boy’s!”

On to the toes and he weaves his fingers through the fabric to tease the long appendages beneath while Jeff giggles madly but holds back outright laughter as Clay continues.

“And you enjoy this too. You love being belittled like this don’t you? Like being called the ticklish little boy you really are don’t you?”

“Yeheheas!” He decides Jeff’s had enough and moves on to the last pair of feet but not before one last comment.

“Good, because when I come back, you’re going to get the punishment your feet deserve for being so sensitive.” The wild smile on the boy’s face lets him know the other boy is excited for it.

Meanwhile, Zach’s toes are still clenched in their cotton protectors as Clay shifts to sit in front of them. They’re so big that it’s almost impossible to see the other boy’s face over them but Clay’s okay with that.

“Go easy on me?”

He snorts and replies by drilling into the feet. Like Justin, he howls but unlike Justin who kicked, his feet flapped about in a really funny way. It doesn’t help them much thought since Clay’s fingers follow wherever they do, scratching at the soles, poking the underside of his toes, and tracing patterns on his heels.

    Also like Justin he’s dumb enough to try talking but only to beg. “HoHOhOHAHoHAStAHHApClHAhahaHAYPlEhEHAHASE!” 

    He keeps going for a bit but at some point it just seems mean to keep tickling the moron so he pauses and feels a little vindicated that the other boy sucking in breath like a drowned man.

    He shifts back to look at all three of them and can’t help but feel annoyed it’s so hard to tickle all of them at once. The way their sitting he can’t reach from Justin to Zach in a way that would be effective for tickling.

Before he can bring it up, Jeff suddenly says, “Let’s play a game. Clay’s going to tickle all of us at once; first one to tell him to stop loses a sock. We keep playing till only one person has ‘em.”

Zach blushes a furious shade of red but Justin cuts in hotly, “We just keep playing till someone wins? What if Jensen can’t get us to beg?”

“With how ticklish you are Foley, that won’t be a problem.” He adds a smile onto it knowing it’ll infuriate the other boy, he pokes the foot too for good measure and gets a wiggle. He’s right but to his surprise Zach speaks before Justin can continue arguing, “What do we win?”

    All eyes look to Jeff since he started this and after a moment of thinking he says, “We set a timer for three minutes, Clay has that long to get one of us to tell him to stop and the person that does, loses a sock. If Clay can’t, he loses a sock at the end of the round. At the end the winner gets bragging rights and gets to tickle the losers for five minutes but then the person who comes in last gets gang tickled by the other three for five minutes. Sound fair?”

    Clay frowned, he signed up to do the tickling not the other way around, not with those two.

    Jusitn sounds positively gleeful as he replies, “Lookit, Jensen’s scared! He’d better be, he’s going to lose for sure!”

    His face heats up and he replies, “Keep dreaming Foley, you’re going down!”

    Zach chuckles, a little nervous but not entirely so, “I guess we’re all agreed.”

    Jeff has the pair shift so their feet are sitting on top of his and Clay can’t deny that the six feet all mixed together with their different sizes, shapes and colored socks is very appealing. It gives him more of an incentive to launch a massive tickling blitz on the vulnerable body parts after starting the timer which results in the howling laughter from all three as he scapes his nails across the ticklish canvasses. 

    “Cootchie Coo.”

    He says it to be annoying but mostly he’s focused on his timer, two minutes down so he heads up to the toes. That’s all it takes.

    “StAhAHAhAP!”

    Zach and Justin look at Jeff who blushes a little and gives a wry sort of smile as he holds his foot up to let Clay strip off the patterned sock. He rolls his eyes but does and takes a moment to admire the pretty foot, no matter how many times he sees them bare, Jeff’s feet are always a thing of beauty.

    He resets the timer and they start again and gets to work. With one bare foot, Jeff has to work twice as hard to keep from calling out but Clay realizes something...Zach is using the other feet as shields for his own and that inspires him to target them just a little extra and that’s apparently all it takes

“CuHAhAHaATiHEhehehHEIToUHoHOT!”

Clay lets go of the feet and it’s not even two minutes in. He gives Zach a look and the tall boy blushes but leans down and strips one of the long socks off.

They reset and go and to his surprise, and despite trying to get Justin to cave, it’s Jeff who calls out first.

His friend looks rather pleased with himself despite all three of them giving him a look.

Justin is the only one to speak, “You do know this means you lose right? Like you shouldn’t look happy?”

Jeff sort of shrugs and tries not to look so gleeful as he shifts out of the way so Clay can focus on the other two.

He restarts and Zach must have been fighting not to be the first out because he can’t seem to hold it together very long...in his defense he is half barefoot so that probably doesn’t help him but Clay doesn’t really care about being fair to him.

Now it’s just him and Justin and the other boy is grinning at him infuriatingly. “Ready to lose Jensen? Man I can’t wait to make you howl!”

Clay gives him a dirty look but resets the timer and lets it go. He digs in hard to the two flapping feet and Justin barks laughter more intensely now that he’s bearing the sole brunt of the tickling onslaught.

Still...he won’t beg. Clay works hard, really hard, tickles the soles, scratches the heels, teases the toes...the whole time watching his seconds slowly tick away. 

And then it goes off. He’s stunned as Justin looks at him cockily.

“A preview of what’s coming Jensen.”

Clay reaches down to take his sock off when Justin motions for him to stop. The asshole actually comes and takes it off himself, giving a slight tickle to the foot as he does earning him a giggle and a dirty look. 

“Man I can’t wait to destroy you. I may only get five minutes but I’m make you cry!”

    Clay continues his dirty look...but if he loses he’s in trouble and having one bare foot reminds him of that all the more. Looking down at his naked foot...he’s a little worried. He wears sneakers almost all the time...sometimes even on his own bed in his own room just because he’s so ticklish!

    Still Justin seems cocky and he can work with that..and if not he’ll die from tickling.

    “Fuck off Foley and put your feet back out and get ready to lose!” Not his greatest come back but he doesn’t need it to be.

    Even as the feet, still clad in their black socks, extend, Justin’s talking shit. “You look scared Jensen, realizing you can’t handle what you dish out?”

    Another glare and he starts the timer and digs into the soft feet again. Justin howls and he concentrates almost exclusively on the toes where Justin’s most ticklish, his fingers slide between the bubble digits and touch the cotton covered webbing between them which sets Justin off, plays with the soft undersides and occasionally attacks the doughy soles to fuck with him when he seems to be too used to the toes tickling. 

    The timer goes off though before Justin begs and for a moment the only sound in the room is the still ringing timer as the tickling stops and the shock sets in.

#ticklestory #ticklishfeet #ticklefic #ticklishboys #ticklishjock #boyfeet #malefootstories #malefeetstory #sfw tickling community #sfw tk community #ticklecommunity #ticklecontent #13 reasons why #justin foley #zach dempsey #jeff atkins #clay jensen

[justjessame]

Falling for a Max

Dinner with Grandmother and Maxen was exactly as I expected - dull as dishwater with a heavy dose of fawning from both sides about how wonderful both of them were, to one another. I wasn’t entirely sure why I had to be present, other than witnessing the spectacle and chewing, I didn’t have much to offer - and there were a few shows that I was behind on, and my “to read” pile of books was growing.

“Maxima,” hearing my name, I looked up to see my brother’s smirk growing and my Grandmother looking exasperated. “Am I interrupting some grand internal thought about curing cancer?” Nice, Grandmother, nice. “I didn’t think so.” Did they always have matching smirks or was I just imagining it? “Now that you’ve rejoined us at the table, perhaps you could join us in the conversation as well?”

Join them, alright. “Absolutely, Grandmother.” Pasting a smile on my face, and glancing down at my plate to be certain I was completely through with the meal that had been placed before me, I looked back up at the pair of them. “It really is such an honor that you’ve chosen to grace us with your obscenely tanned visage, and I’d be inconsiderate if I didn’t mention not completely healed, but most definitely well earned beaten face.” Smiling coming out in full and dare I say real bloom now that they were both having issues holding tight to their own smugness, I went on, “And Grandmother you’ve truly outdone yourself with dinner. I’m sure preparing the list of what you wanted the staff to prepare took a full ten minutes of your packed to the gills day of -” I squinted as I considered just what it was that she did while I went off to the family business and put out fires in the human resources department all day. “Well I’m sure it’ll come to me. Now that I’m finished, please don’t try to tempt me with Max’s favorite dessert,” I stood up and started my retreat, but not before one last parting shot. “Oh and Max?” He wasn’t smirking, but he was studying me like he was considering making our faces match a little better - “lock my bedroom door” definitely added to my mental list - “Give me the name and number of whoever gave you those bruises would you? I want to send them a gift.”

“And there were no family photos in the office?” Clay was going over Jensen’s contact with Maxima Alexander again - alright he was going over it for the fifth time, but it felt wrong to him. They were twins, fraternal sure, but didn’t all twins have some sort of connection?

“None,” the younger man was squinting behind his glasses trying to recreate what he’d seen in the office. “Wait, no, there was one.” He nodded and Clay thought that he’d known it, there had to be something. “It was of a really old man, and I’d asked who it was, and she smiled and said her grandfather.”

Damn it, he was dead too. The founder of the company she worked for, would probably own one day if she was in the line of succession, but definitely not the link they were looking for - fuck.

“There were no other pictures in the office?” Clay was grasping at straws at this point, he wanted, no he needed something that proved that this entire trip wasn’t a fool’s errand - again. It seemed like since that first face-to-fist with Max was lightning in a bottle, and everything after was just fucking nothing - all of Aisha’s connections and tips lead them on wild ass chases that had them coming ever closer to that end dance she promised was coming over the death he’d dealt her father, but damn if it was not leading them were they all wanted - to Max.

Jensen sighed and Clay perked up. “There were other pictures -” seeing his fearless and let’s be frank, scary as hell face show the signs that he’d been holding out on intel that was important to the mission, he sat up straighter and explained how inconsequential they were, “pictures of her and her friends. Maybe a boyfriend?”

He shrugged, shoulders sagging at the failure of his ability to dig further into Max’s sister’s life while he was in her office, and ohh boy had he wanted to dig harder and deeper into any part of her life, sister of the devil himself or not, she was an eyeful. “All I know is that the pictures were scattered and she looked way more relaxed in them and happier than she did trapped behind the desk wearing those heels and suit - even if she does rock the fuck out of both of them.” His eyes closed at the memory of how well she wore both of them, even if she was petite as hell, she managed to be both confident, intimidating, and welcoming - it was weird as hell after meeting Max.

It was Clay’s turn to sigh. Well shit, that didn’t help at all. “So we have Max, the sister, and grandma?” He slumped in his chair and felt the urge to throw something. “What’s the likelihood it’s the grandma?”

I made sure to lock my bedroom door, tossing off the outfit I’d been forced to redress in for a dinner I hadn’t wanted to participate in, I was tugging the pins holding up my hair when I heard the tell-tale notification sound warning me that I was being paged to a video call on my computer. Before I could start to curse anyone working late at the office, my brain engaged and realized the tone wasn’t a work one, but a personal one - grinning like a goofball I rushed to the desk situated in the office area of my suite and checked to be sure my t-shirt was covering my pertinent parts before hitting the answer button.

Two of my favorite faces popped up and then we were joined by the third - always late- one.

The greetings rang out as if we didn’t do this almost weekly, and I would have laughed, but I was still feeling the effects of dinner - and it was noticed.

“Where is your glass?” I’d completely forgotten that we were going to have our video chat and so I’d completely forgotten to grab a drink, but I was shocked that Maxwell had one in her hand - it must have been obvious on my traitorous face because she rolled her eyes and her husband - and my best friend since before we were potty trained came to the rescue.

“I found the best recipe for mock-tinis that has ever been devised,” Ezra swore, and I shook my head at his widening grin, and I knew his hand was cradling Maxi’s ever growing baby bump. “Do you honestly think we’d be down with prenatal alcohol consumption?” I’d forever envy his ability to arch his eyebrow the way only he seemed capable.

Cassie cleared her throat and earned an eye-roll from Maxi, “you’re deflecting, Mimi,” that got her a matching one from me. “Where’s your drinky-poo?” She raised her own glassful of what looked like champagne and I was tempted to do the time-difference mathematics to see just what time it was in whatever part of the world she was at this particular point in time - “Never you mind the time, another deflection won’t make us forget that you definitely forgot our togetherness time.” She pushed out her lower lip into a dramatic pout and I finally had to laugh - she was too ridiculous, but then again she had been since the first time we met in grade school.

“You’re right,” the sigh slipped out and Ezra’s eyes narrowed, he knew me like he knew the back of his hand. “Sorry, I was -”

“When did he get back?” Seriously, how did he know? “Clearly your evil twin is back in the family fold, not only did you forget the drink, but you’re wearing the shirt.” I glanced down and another sigh slipped out. Shit. I was. How did I not notice pulling it out? “So, how long?”

Groaning, I sat back in the chair, and told them what little I knew - feeling marginally better as I let the verbal diarrhea release from deep within me. “And then I got up from the table and asked him to give me the name and number of the guy who gave him the bruises because I wanted to send him a gift.” I shrugged and Ezra broke, laughing like he couldn’t hold back any longer - “I locked the bedroom door, changed out of my dinner clothes, and threw on what I thought was the first crap I grabbed,” my gaze me Ezra’s and we shared a knowing look, “that’s when you guys started ringing in -” another shrug.

“Wait,” Cassie was wide-eyed and I waited for her to gather her thoughts while she held up one finger and took a long drink from her champagne flute. “You asked Maxen for the number of the guy who beat his ass bad enough to leave him still bruised and battered even now when he shows up on Grandma’s doorstep, and that’s after you also basically told her that she sits on her pompous ass and does nothing other than write up the menu and -” she couldn’t go on, a snort slipped out and then she was sounding less ladylike than she’d ever pretended to be in her life.

“Damn, Mimi, I didn’t think you had it in you,” Maxwell was looking at me like she might be impressed. “After all these years of just taking all the crap that those two have handed you like it was candy during Trick or Treat, you finally took a bite out of them -” So much for a compliment, but then again, that was Max - and she was pregnant.

Ezra was still studying me, he was the one who’d known me the longest. The one who knew both Maxen and me, but he was the one who had stood by me, not Maxen. It was his shirt I was wearing, the other two had no idea, none - not even his wife - who he met thanks to me.

“You make sure the door is locked, that the balcony and patio doors are locked.” He wasn’t listening to the other women as they tittered, they clearly were of no concern at the moment. “You know that he knows how to pick locks and he knows that house as well as you do.” I nodded, the balcony was already on lockdown, I wasn’t as keen on using it during the cooler nights and was happy Maxen hadn’t chosen the warmer months to pop up.

Maxwell was looking back and forth between us, even through the computer camera I could tell she was trying to see what she was missing. “You two are acting like Maxen is going to do something crazy like -”

“Like stuff her in a trunk and hide the key?” Ezra hissed, clearly remembering the day a game of Hide and Seek went off the rails in a way that the two of us would never forget.

“The next question,” Pooch was staring at the folders that held what he knew was limited intel on Maxima - Max’s twin sister. “How do we get close enough to figure out what our next move is?”

Clay was wondering pretty much the same damn thing.

#the losers (2010) #Franklin Clay x OFC #alternative universe #eventual smut

[gldnhrt]

ronen rubinstein, pansexual, demi-male + he/they → isn’t that elijah james ullman? i’ve seen them hanging out with the phoenixes. i hear they’re forty-nine, but they’ve only been in alexandria for all his life. they seem to be empathetic & vibrant, but also anxious & self-critical. they have been reborn at least once already!

○ ′ 🔥  –––––––––––––––––––  001

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄  elijah james ullman 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄  ej, eli, jaime ( his brother ) 𝐃𝐎𝐁  february 28, 1975 𝐀𝐆𝐄  forty-nine ( current life ) , second regeneration 𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂  pisces 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑  demi - male 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒  he/they 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  panromantic, pansexual 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍  alexandria, louisiana 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒  english, spanish, hebrew, chinese, vietnamese 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  doctor

○ ′ 🔥  –––––––––––––––––––  002

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌  ronen rubinstein 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑  dark brown 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒  blue eyes 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  5′11″ 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  one on his left ear 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒  none 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄  white shirts, button up, cardigans, suit & tie

○ ′ 🔥  –––––––––––––––––––  003

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘  mediator ( infp ) 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  empathic, vibrant, imaginative, loyal, compassionate 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  anxious, sensitive, self-critical, unrealistic 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓  photography, hiking, baking, calligraphy, camping 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 bottom 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  sweets

○ ′ 🔥  –––––––––––––––––––  004

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑  [ redacted ] ullman, nuerosurgeon 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑  blaise alexander ullman, cardiothoracic surgeon 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  ( one brother )

○ ′ 🔥  –––––––––––––––––––  005

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐒 will byers ( stranger things ) , elena gilbert ( the vampire diaries ) , peter parker ( spiderman ) , clay jensen ( 13 reasons why ) , lara jean song-covey ( to all the boys ) , lexie grey ( grey's anatomy )

○ ′ 🔥  –––––––––––––––––––  006

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

for a hopeless romantic, elijah james ullman always found the beauty in everything. his parents had met when they were both studying for medicine, fell in love, and excelled in their medical fields. their love story was one for the books. this was of course many centuries ago.

ej loved hearing about their love story, and he loved that they were still ambitious and love the work that they did, and he was the product of their love.

elijah james ullman was born into phoenix, just like his dad blaise. it was something that he always fear, realizing that when he died, a new version of himself would be born and his old self would be lost forever.

growing up, ej was one who was very in touch with his emotions. he was a vibrant child, who was very imaginative, but also sensitive. his parents worried though that their son would be taken advantage of with all his characteristics he showed.

ej was a daydreamer, and unrealistic paths ended up becoming something he dealt with a lot. becoming an older brother helped with realizing he had to become more realistic, that eventually he became very self-critical with things he did.

even with all that, being a phoenix was something he was good at. controlling his abilities, learning new ones. but one thing he didn't want was the memories that would one day come crashing in. he was afraid of the decisions he might have done in his past life. or maybe it was so good, he'd be sad of what he had lost.

as he got older, he decided that he wanted to follow in his parents footsteps, doctors, what was new? so he went to college for it, and took all the years for him to finally get his medical license.

for a long time he debated whether he wanted to be a brain surgeon like his father or a heart surgeon like his mother, but he discovered that he was good with kids. so he decided paeds was what he'd do. helping children of all kinds.

now that he was reaching his first half century, he finds himself wanting some change. maybe he's been wanting to find love like his parents, or maybe he feels being a doctor isn't for him. he's still figuring it out.

○ ′ 🔥  –––––––––––––––––––  007

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

TBD

#○ ′ 🔥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱 ≻ about me #unveilintro

[k00297901]

CONCLUSION TO DISRUPT

Incorporation of sustainability in practice-

Started with the broken heel as symbol in cardboard which isn’t my favourite as it wasn’t structurally sound, getting to reuse old cardboard. I then used this inspo for my soft sculpture sign, which was something very new to me and I used old fabric scraps. For the clay pieces, I painted them using old expired makeup pigments and low quality old paint to use it up. For the “I hope this email finds you” painting I got to use some old dried out brushes for texture and I learned a lot from it’s creation.

Workshops completed:

3D cardboard and paper- Nice starting point as a very versatile medium but I don’t love what I produced

Soft sculpture- VERY proud of this workshop- I had never worked with fabric in this way and it opened my eyes to the possibilities

Dog Life Drawing- Not very project relevant but so fun and boosted my drawing skills which helped with the project. One of my favourite workshops.

Drawing with clay 2D and 3D Explorations- Fun experimentation and I made some of my favourite pieces here using different techniques from the workshop

Me & You- Challenging but a fantastic exercise, I hope to use charcoals more again in the future. made some paintings throughout the week but i wish i had maybe worked on a larger scale for some

Publication- bookbinding was challenging but something i would love to incorporate into future projects, learning about riso print was great and i look forward to doing more

Manifesto- collage and riso combination to make posters- very happy with how my work turned out

Evolution of my theme throughout-

Starting out with “corporate disruption”, disrupting rigid symbols of arrows, keyboards, cctv etc. ; Before relating these to burn out, pressure and exhaustion and tying to my own experience of dealing with expectations and trying to find the “reason” for the work you do.

Researched artists and seminars-

James Casebere

Erik Jensen

Bart Vargas

William Betts

seminars -

colour theory, composition, relief print, drawing, 3D studies, exploring ideas, using a cameraphone

Main takeaways-

I had planned to make 3d office inspired by James Casebere but didnt have time. I wanted to take my collages to risograph print and I had the layers done but didn’t have time. I also would’ve liked to glaze my ceramics but I needed to be away from college and used up old materials instead.

While there are some things I’m not happy with, I definitely learned something from everything I created. I’m most proud of the clay keyboards, the watercolour self portrait and the Defy Expectations risograph prints as I believe these capture the emotion and meaning behind the Disrupt project most.

Bye Disrupt project!!!!! cheers :D

#disrupt #artists on tumblr

[franhitzke]

Ruth Duckworth (b. 1919, Germany - d. 2009, USA)

Ruth Duckworth was born to a Jewish family in Germany, Post WWI; she moved to the USA in 1936 during the rise of Nazi Power as she was unable to complete her art studies in Germany and persued them in the USA.

Duckworth worked in a munitions factory during WWII, travelled as a puppeteer and even carved headstones. She began working with clay in the 1950’s.

She was one of the first ceramic artists in England to create sculptural forms rather than traditional functional tableware.

She says of clay: “a very temperamental material. I'm constantly fighting it. It wants to lie down, you want it to stand up. I have to make it do what it doesn't want to do. But there's no other material that so effectively communicates both fragility and strength." Source: https://collections.artsmia.org/art/104272/untitled-ruth-duckworth

Duckworth has an immense collection of work over her career, she has experimented in many forms, but most prevalent are her delicate, modernist sculptures.

Untitled (2000)

Porcelain. 24.8 x 24.4 x 8.6cm.

Image source: https://www.ceramicsnow.org/exhibitions/shes-clay-sculptures-from-the-estate-of-ruth-duckworth-at-salon-94-new-york/

Untitled (2004)

Porcelain. 15.9 x 25.4 x 14cm.

Image source: https://www.ceramicsnow.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/untitled-2004-768x1024.jpg

References:

Jensen, T. (2009). RUTH DUCKWORTH: 1919-2009: Sculptor’s work broke the mold; Abstract ceramic pieces and murals. Chicago Tribune.

Raphael, J., & Duckworth, R. (1994). Ruth Duckworth. Iss 53(1). P43-44. Art Journal, New York.

Website: https://www.ceramicsnow.org/exhibitions/shes-clay-sculptures-from-the-estate-of-ruth-duckworth-at-salon-94-new-york/

[feigncourage]

11.

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[feigncourage-moved]

cj.

#clay jensen: study. #clay jensen: aesthetic. #clay jensen: headcanons. #clay jensen: mannerisms. #clay jensen: visage. #clay jensen: physique. #clay jensen: edits. #clay jensen: dash games. #dyn: clay & hannah. #dyn: clay & justin. #dyn: clay & ani. #dyn: clay & tony. #dyn: clay & tyler. #dyn: clay & jess. #dyn: clay & alex. #dyn: clay & zach. #tag dump.