too hoarse to shout

five times smiled / no longer accepting / @brewalone

ONE. he’s a year above her in all of his classes, and he knows that might cause at least half a problem, but that doesn’t really stop jarrod from pining occasionally sneaking a glance at the absolutely GORGEOUS girl with the same lunch period as him. he tries to be LOWKEY - because, goddamn it, he’s not a creep, he’s just got eyes, and they function well enough for him to know that this girl is beautiful. the first time she catches him staring, she gives him a small wave, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly before turning back to whatever work she’s doing in that “thick fuckin’ textbook” ( according to kenny, the linguist ). he swoons, dopey GRIN frozen on his face - right up until kenny smacks him in the back of the head for being “too damn soft for his own good”. ( he doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. )

TWO. jarrod invites everyone to his football games, but this specific invite feels different. it’s definitely not a DATE, because he basically asked her to come watch him “kick some staten island tech ASS”, which earned him a slightly painful pat on the back from kenny, but it was definitely worth it. he’s got the football under his arm, running for the goalpost, trailed by three - no, four members of staten island’s defensive line. the student section of the bleachers is almost indistinguishable amidst all of the lights, but that hair is absolutely unmistakable. he shoots zeph a toothy smile - very charming with the bright orange mouth guard - about to wave at her when he’s driven directly into the ground by the defensive tackle. he’ll have to go back to the clinic tomorrow for the way his shoulder twists at the hit, but right now, it’s absolutely worth it.

THREE. jag knows that zahara cares about him. she’s proven it more than enough - she tended to his awful wounds after all of that torture, and she let him RAMBLE about loving her while he was woozy and disoriented without much protest. ( which would be really nice to think about if jag actually REMEMBERED that. ) the bandages she initially applied to his chest have since been removed, which may have been against zahara’s wishes just a little, but jag was getting really itchy, and it was DAMN NEAR unbearable. despite the chill in the air, he’s kept his shirt off, mostly under the pretense that “he’s just that handsome” - it’s definitely nothing to do with how badly his chest aches every time something so much as brushes against the fresh wounds. he catches zahara glancing at the burns and cracks a halfhearted smile, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “i know, z, i’m pretty damn good-looking.” she heaves a sigh, shaking her head, and his smile grows a bit into something more genuine. there’s the zahara he knows.

FOUR. it’s absolutely clear to see that zahara hasn’t been sleeping. she looks and sounds exhausted - which, of course, jag wouldn’t point out, because he’s not a dick, and she’s still BEAUTIFUL, but he’s worried. he tries not to let that concern shine through when she takes his offer for him to help her sleep - he has about two hours worth of knowledge about golf that he thinks will put her right to sleep. he plops down next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulders, deciding against making any sort of comment when she puts her head on his shoulder. instead, he smiles softly, rubbing her back lightly with his palm. “so,” he begins, “golf originated from a primitive stick and ball game in scotland in the 15th century…” ( he fades off at the sixteenth century, resting his head against the wall behind the both of them so he can get some rest as well. )

five times smiled / accepting

ONE. jarrod is fourteen, and he’s got no qualifications as a babysitter - except, perhaps, the fact that he was once a baby. but this kid’s mom offered to pay him ( REAL MONEY! ) and jarrod couldn’t possibly refuse. so he makes it his mission to make this kid his friend, even if they don’t really seem to have anything in common. when he shows up to the apartment next to his with an old chess set and a gameboy, the kid is behind his mom’s leg, which throws jarrod off a bit, because he can’t really remember being that small. like, ever. but that’s fine. his mom introduces the kid as theo, and jarrod crouches a little, sticking his hand out with a quieter-than-usual “hey, man”. when theo takes his hand, jarrod shakes it ( maybe a bit too roughly ), and he can feel himself beginning to grin - maybe babysitting won’t be half bad.

TWO. the lights on his face are OVERWHELMING. he’s been in the hospital often, considering he’s an accident magnet, but the ACCIDENTS have never been so completely tragic - at least as far as he can remember. he’s barely nineteen, and kenny is w a s about to be the same. ( shit, his birthday was so s o o n. ) before he can break down again, there’s a knock on the door - specifically patterned, just like he and tink had practiced - and he draws in a deep breath, preparing himself for questions, or updates, or whatever tink might be here to tell him. but, upon letting tink in, that never comes. he just sits at his bedside, and takes his hand ( which jarrod can’t feel, but he would never tell tink that ). the only thanks that jarrod can muster is a soft smile and an attempt at squeezing tink’s hand back, but he thinks it’s enough.

THREE. they’re all aware that there are bits and pieces of their past that didn’t really stick after the explosion. some are missing more than others, but it’s really just a grab bag of what you will and won’t remember. jag, for example, doesn’t remember where his dad lives. or his birthday. and he knows that tink doesn’t remember that they were basically brothers, which, to be fair, isn’t that big of a deal when he considers how much everyone else has LOST, but it still hurts. however, the first time his “tink! bro!” is returned with an almost equally as excited “bro!”, jag grins. it almost feels like they can just be kids again.

FOUR. jag can’t believe it when zahara tells him that tink is going to be alright. poor kid has had enough tragedy in his life, and when falco SHOT him, jag thought that was it. he couldn’t imagine losing his brother that soon - even spending over twenty-five years with him wouldn’t have been enough. so, when jag crouches at the side of tink’s mattress, taking his hand like tink had done so many years ago, he’s still a little scared. scared of losing his one connection to the past, scared of having another kenny, scared of being stuck with memories and photographs instead of the real thing. interrupting his thoughts, though, is a weak squeeze against his hand, and jag gasps out a sob, smiling for the first time in days. “welcome back, buddy.”

this story needs an ending | accepting!

this story needs an ending | accepting!

“hey, hey, what’s wrong with my HAIRLINE? i’ll have you know, zahara thinks the mohawk is handsome.”

some old ass meme | not accepting because i can't remember what the meme was

"you know i have no idea what that MEANS, rae. also, five inch heels seem more like a PUNISHMENT than a fashion statement."

u fool thats zahara . thts my icon

( matching icons for u and ur gf that's tired of ur shit )