Status: going strong!! || could i have made this layout any more green i'm
Ingrained
he was jack
Jack is everything.
Well. No. Jack is almost everything. Jack is not food, water, or air, but he is the sun, moon, and stars. He is the light at the end of every tunnel and the rainbow stretched over every field. He is the warm embrace beneath the covers and the rush of secret kisses in public.
And he was here, sitting in my window, his summer sky eyes watching my every move. His grin was bright and toothy and his legs were folded and he was planted on the wide windowsill with no intention of moving. He had a blanket thrown around his shoulders but he wasn't cold. He was just here.
His fingers were curled around a wireless Xbox controller despite being miles away from the television. Perhaps he just felt at home with his hands on one. He was talking — always is, really — and it was soothing and I could only watch him and admire. "I'd never done a panel on my own," he sighed, reliving his most recent convention with phantom jitters, "but it was so fuckin' fun, y'know?"
"I'm sure," I had said, lamenting the fact that I hadn't been able to see him live and in action. My pride and anxiety had meshed together and prevented Jack from getting a pass for me. Why push him to bring me along when I would only be afraid of everything going on around me? It wouldn't have been worth it. I knew Jack wanted me there — I could see it in his eyes when I spoke about the convention — but I couldn't let myself dampen his experience. "I saw it the minute it was uploaded. You were amazing." He was practically beaming then.
He wasn't just on the windowsill, either. He was on the couch, too, his legs dangling off of the armrest. He was fast asleep, one arm grazing the carpet and one slung over his stomach, snores spilling from partially parted lips. I had taken the moment to drink him in, every detail that I wouldn't be able to pick up over a computer screen or a selfie. His hair was the most vibrant shade of green and in complete disarray, parts of it falling over his face and parts of it flopping back. His eyelashes were still long, his lips were still pink, and his right cheek was still irritated because even in his sleep, he wouldn't stop raking his nails across it. He was Jack and he was at peace and he was happy, I hoped.
And he was here.
He was in the kitchen, as well, helping me bake a cake and getting carried away with the frosting and stealing chocolate chips from beneath my nose. He was in the bathroom, belting out whatever was floating around in his head as he showered (twenty one pilots turned into anime theme songs, which then turned into an acapella rendition of a few Star Wars themes) and writing messages in the steam on the mirror.
He was in my bedroom, plucking my model Hylian Shield off of a shelf and urging me to engage him in battle, encouraging me to attack by calling me "the ultimate fuckin' nerd!" He thrusted my own shield at me, shouting towards the ceiling when I maneuvered past his defenses and ran my fingers along his ribs and beneath his arms. He was beneath my covers, hiding from any further tickling, holding his stomach because he had laughed too hard and it hurt beneath his touch.
He was in my bed, the cold tip of his nose against my neck, his arms curled around my waist. He spoke against my skin, told me his worries about YouTube ("What if it gets too big? Twelve million people is already so fuckin' much, what if I screw it up?") and his impending plane ride ("No,") and, as he began to fall asleep, about how he could have always been a ninja ("I'm so stealthy, did you know? I'm a fuckin' shadow already!"). He slept soundly, a truly soft star that was somehow planted beside me.
He was in my car, driving to the airport because I just couldn't get behind the wheel sometimes. He sang along to the radio and wrung the steering wheel so tight I feared he would break it because, truth be told, he was as upset about leaving as I was about watching him go. But at least he was still here.
He was in the whole of downtown as we ripped through it, colors blurring as we sped to our destination because one of us decided to sleep in. He was in the the entire airport, too; I will never be able to drop off or pick up another person there without thinking of him bouncing on his toes as he waited for his luggage to be weighed and turned up his nose at every cup of coffee the place had to offer (they all tasted like a bag of dicks, he had said).
He was here.
And now he's not. Not completely.
He's across the water now, invading other people's worlds with his crystalline eyes and shining smile. He's embedding his scent into unfamiliar fabrics and leaving his touch on new, strange surfaces. I wonder if, whenever someone brushes their fingers against a spot Jack has grazed, they get a small, burning burst of happiness and love in their chest the way I do when he touches me.
Still, he's not allgone, I don't feel. He appears in flashes on my windowsill, snoring on my couch and mumbling nonsense in my sheets. His messages flicker in the steam on the mirror and his voice, loud and proud, floats through the hiss of the shower and the flour he spilled lines the tiles of the kitchen floor. Jack haunts my home, his laughs hanging in otherwise empty air and his cold nose on my neck and his hands on my waist and his words in my ear and his fingers around my silly shield. His grip is still hard as iron on the steering wheel and his serenades are stuck within the interior.
And, when he texts me at four in the morning to tell me that the plane didn't crash and he's "right as all the rain" and very, very tired, he's in my mind and the tips of my fingers as I tap out a response.
me, 4:38 am: you're the ultimate fucking nerd
Except he's more than that. He's the sun, the moon, the stars, the light and the rainbow and the hugs we shared beneath my covers and the kisses we snuck in the bright lights of the airport and.
jack, 4:41 am: Miss you too
He is here.
Well. No. Jack is almost everything. Jack is not food, water, or air, but he is the sun, moon, and stars. He is the light at the end of every tunnel and the rainbow stretched over every field. He is the warm embrace beneath the covers and the rush of secret kisses in public.
And he was here, sitting in my window, his summer sky eyes watching my every move. His grin was bright and toothy and his legs were folded and he was planted on the wide windowsill with no intention of moving. He had a blanket thrown around his shoulders but he wasn't cold. He was just here.
His fingers were curled around a wireless Xbox controller despite being miles away from the television. Perhaps he just felt at home with his hands on one. He was talking — always is, really — and it was soothing and I could only watch him and admire. "I'd never done a panel on my own," he sighed, reliving his most recent convention with phantom jitters, "but it was so fuckin' fun, y'know?"
"I'm sure," I had said, lamenting the fact that I hadn't been able to see him live and in action. My pride and anxiety had meshed together and prevented Jack from getting a pass for me. Why push him to bring me along when I would only be afraid of everything going on around me? It wouldn't have been worth it. I knew Jack wanted me there — I could see it in his eyes when I spoke about the convention — but I couldn't let myself dampen his experience. "I saw it the minute it was uploaded. You were amazing." He was practically beaming then.
He wasn't just on the windowsill, either. He was on the couch, too, his legs dangling off of the armrest. He was fast asleep, one arm grazing the carpet and one slung over his stomach, snores spilling from partially parted lips. I had taken the moment to drink him in, every detail that I wouldn't be able to pick up over a computer screen or a selfie. His hair was the most vibrant shade of green and in complete disarray, parts of it falling over his face and parts of it flopping back. His eyelashes were still long, his lips were still pink, and his right cheek was still irritated because even in his sleep, he wouldn't stop raking his nails across it. He was Jack and he was at peace and he was happy, I hoped.
And he was here.
He was in the kitchen, as well, helping me bake a cake and getting carried away with the frosting and stealing chocolate chips from beneath my nose. He was in the bathroom, belting out whatever was floating around in his head as he showered (twenty one pilots turned into anime theme songs, which then turned into an acapella rendition of a few Star Wars themes) and writing messages in the steam on the mirror.
He was in my bedroom, plucking my model Hylian Shield off of a shelf and urging me to engage him in battle, encouraging me to attack by calling me "the ultimate fuckin' nerd!" He thrusted my own shield at me, shouting towards the ceiling when I maneuvered past his defenses and ran my fingers along his ribs and beneath his arms. He was beneath my covers, hiding from any further tickling, holding his stomach because he had laughed too hard and it hurt beneath his touch.
He was in my bed, the cold tip of his nose against my neck, his arms curled around my waist. He spoke against my skin, told me his worries about YouTube ("What if it gets too big? Twelve million people is already so fuckin' much, what if I screw it up?") and his impending plane ride ("No,") and, as he began to fall asleep, about how he could have always been a ninja ("I'm so stealthy, did you know? I'm a fuckin' shadow already!"). He slept soundly, a truly soft star that was somehow planted beside me.
He was in my car, driving to the airport because I just couldn't get behind the wheel sometimes. He sang along to the radio and wrung the steering wheel so tight I feared he would break it because, truth be told, he was as upset about leaving as I was about watching him go. But at least he was still here.
He was in the whole of downtown as we ripped through it, colors blurring as we sped to our destination because one of us decided to sleep in. He was in the the entire airport, too; I will never be able to drop off or pick up another person there without thinking of him bouncing on his toes as he waited for his luggage to be weighed and turned up his nose at every cup of coffee the place had to offer (they all tasted like a bag of dicks, he had said).
He was here.
And now he's not. Not completely.
He's across the water now, invading other people's worlds with his crystalline eyes and shining smile. He's embedding his scent into unfamiliar fabrics and leaving his touch on new, strange surfaces. I wonder if, whenever someone brushes their fingers against a spot Jack has grazed, they get a small, burning burst of happiness and love in their chest the way I do when he touches me.
Still, he's not allgone, I don't feel. He appears in flashes on my windowsill, snoring on my couch and mumbling nonsense in my sheets. His messages flicker in the steam on the mirror and his voice, loud and proud, floats through the hiss of the shower and the flour he spilled lines the tiles of the kitchen floor. Jack haunts my home, his laughs hanging in otherwise empty air and his cold nose on my neck and his hands on my waist and his words in my ear and his fingers around my silly shield. His grip is still hard as iron on the steering wheel and his serenades are stuck within the interior.
And, when he texts me at four in the morning to tell me that the plane didn't crash and he's "right as all the rain" and very, very tired, he's in my mind and the tips of my fingers as I tap out a response.
me, 4:38 am: you're the ultimate fucking nerd
Except he's more than that. He's the sun, the moon, the stars, the light and the rainbow and the hugs we shared beneath my covers and the kisses we snuck in the bright lights of the airport and.
jack, 4:41 am: Miss you too
He is here.
♠ ♠ ♠
fun fact, but not only was this going to be a different youtuber (i was originally stuck between mark, matpat, nate & jack), this was also going to be a different fic (between post-breakup, complete au, and a sick!fic) altogether. i wrote this while powering through jack's papers, please playthrough (GLORY GREATEST COUNTRY ARSTOTZKA) and i don't really know where it came from, but i like what i ended up with. yay!i also tend to post things when i've got a hella early morning waiting for me like an idiot, so it's nearly midnight and i'm exhausted and i've got to log out right now bc my cousin is begging for her laptop back. soooo any mibba business, i promise i'll do in the next few days when i have more time!!
thanks for reading! love you all! <3