pic a nic basket

Jacksepticeye Fluffy college AU

Reader Insert

990(ish) words

     You hurry along the sidewalk, pulling your jacket closer to your chest. It was no match for the chilly Irish wind, but you were too stubborn to go back to your dorm and change. Shoving your hands in your pockets and blowing a h/c tuff of hair from in front of your face, you quicken your pace, hoping to warm up.
     It was a beautiful morning, bright and sunny, the sky more blue than it had been in weeks. When you looked outside the window not long ago it seemed so warm out. It had been a lie, it was colder then it has been all month. You pout, eyes on your feet as you walk, watching your shoes hit the ground. You’ve only been in Ireland a few months, studying abroad, and in that time you had thought you had gotten used to the weather. You, in fact, had not.
     "Y/n!“ You look up from your feet, then around until your e/c eyes meet crystal clear blue ones.
     "Oh, hey Jack.” You beam a smile at your friend, straightening your back and running a hand through your hair as you watch the green haired man lightly jog towards you. “Having a good morning?” You question as he closes the last few feet between the two of you. He’s in a grey hoodie, zipped up all the way with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark jeans. He looked amazing, as always.
     "It’s a beautiful day of course I am!“ His naturally loud voice is filled with excitement and it makes you laugh. "Much too beautiful a day to spend inside listening to a lecture.” He smiles, and it’s then you notice the dark, wicker pic-a-nic basket in his hands.
     "What are you suggesting, Mr. McLoughlin?“ You raise an eyebrow and he grins.
     "A pic-a-nic in the park.” He holds up the basket and you snort out a single laugh.
     "Jack, you know how many notes we take in lector days. If we skip today we’ll be playing catch up till Halloween" You respond.
     "We will not, i’m getting Markimoo to record the whole thing for us. We can watch it later from the comfort of your dorm. It’ll be like the worst movie night ever.“ He smiles and can’t help but do the same. "So, whatta you say?” He holds out a hand. Pressing your lips together into a line, you study him for a few moments, then take his hand and smile. His smile widens and he laughs, turning and leading you away from the school.
     "So, what have you packed for our meal in the park?“ You question, falling into step next to him as he lets your hand slip from his.
     "The good stuff.” He replied, winking at you. You laugh and roll your eyes, mostly concerned but also worried about what was inside the wicker confines of the basket. You felt a similar feeling when you first met Jack, moths ago inside your dorm. He had been playing hide and seek drunk and somehow ended up in your room.      You let him sleep on your floor, and that morning he made chocolate chip waffles. You’ve been friends ever since.
     The walk to the small park is filled with light and casual conversation, and a few selfies from both parties. In the shade of a few big trees, you help Jack spread out a blanket with an anime character on it. When it is done you drop your backpack and practically flop on the ground, letting out a painful sound as a tree root hits your tail bone.
     Jack laughs, after making sure your okay, then sits next to you with the basket on his lap. He looks at you, faking seriousness, and places his hands on the lid.
     "Do you know what the good stuff is?“ He asks, his blue eyes narrowing.
     "Cakes and cookies?” You answer his question with another.
     "Cakes and cookies.“ He repeats, smiling and flipping the lid open. You laugh, sitting up so your leg rests against his. "For you.” He hands you a large, flat box and you raise an eyebrow at him. Taking and opening the box, you look inside in confusion.
It was a single cookie, the size of your outstretched hand. And in frosting, your favorite color frosting, is says in loopy handwriting Look left.
     You look at Jack, who’s sitting on your left, and find that he’s unzipped his jacket, holding it open so you can see the neon green shirt he wore under it. On the shirt, in black sharpie, it said Will you date be my girlfriend??
Date was crossed out with one line, making it still very readable. You hold back a laugh, very aware this was not the time to start that but almost unable to keep it back.
     "Y/n are you gonna cry?“ Jack asks, letting his jacket go so the sides fall over some of the words and putting a hand on your knee.
You shake your head and look down at your knees, your jaw shaking with smothered laughter.
     "If you don’t want to you can just say no you don’t have cry-” He trails off as you meet his eyes, a face splitting smile crosses your features.
     "I would love nothing more than to date be your girlfriend.“ You fall into a gut wrenching laughing fit and he does the same, holding his sides.
     You end up laying on your back, face red and out of breath from laughing. Jack lays next to you, the occasional laugh still slipping from his lips. He slips his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.
     "I love you.” You turn to look at him to find his gorgeous eyes already on you.
     "I love you too.“ You respond, cheeks red for another then just the laughing fit you had finished not long ago.

Hai presente Sasha Grey? Hai presente quando hai le mani in aria in un concerto? Una bottiglia d'acqua dopo aver giocato a basket? Hai presente un pic-nic e la pizza con la Coca Cola? La birra? Il giorno prima del tuo compleanno? Le speranze? L'estate? Il mare calmo? Hai presente il colore dei miei occhi che è l'unica cosa che mi piace? Una torta fatta in casa? Una partita di NBA? Hai presente la mia canzone preferita? I bambini? I baci proibiti? Hai presente uscire fuori, andare a ballare tutta la notte, andare fuori a mangiare e fingersi cresciuti? Ubriacarsi? I Simpsons? I Griffin? Dragonball? I jeans? I grattacieli? Le piramidi? Gli Stati Uniti? I telefilm? La torre Eiffel? Il ponte di Brooklyn? L'abbronzatura? La granita all'amarena? Le sigarette? Una giornata positiva? L'attesa delle feste? L'aperitivo? Le superiori? Cantare? Prendere l'aereo? I weekend? Ecco, tu sei di gran lunga superiore.
—  il mio migliore amico, che ha una cotta per me.
Imagine Dean's reaction to your outfit for going undercover...

“Don’t. Don’t say it.” You glared at Dean and crossed your arms in front of your chest. It was too late though. He was already laughing.

“Heh heh heh… Wait, wait. Ok. Okay… I’m sorry,” he was trying and failing miserably not to laugh. 

You looked down at the park ranger uniform and sighed. “This blows. Why do I have to go undercover?”

Dean cleared his throat and rearranged his expression into one of mock sincerity. It lasted a whole ten seconds before he was giggling again. “Are those cargo shorts?” He asked, approaching you and pulling on one of the pockets. You smacked his hand away and he laughed. “Wow, so many pockets for… for like your portable duck… attractants.”

“You don’t know anything about park rangers,” you said bluntly, still frowning at the amused expression on his face. “Or ducks apparently.”

Dean shrugged and gave you a goofy smile. “Nope. That’s why it’s you in the parkie costume and not me. Hey, make sure you watch out for Yogi. I hear he’s been stealing pic-a-nic baskets again,” Dean said, biting his bottom lip as he grinned at you again.

“Alright. That’s it,” you said, removing the stiff brimmed hat. “I’m not doing this. You can do it. I would pay money to see you in these shorts, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “You’re just trying to get a sneak look at my sexy legs. I know your game.”

You only glared at him.

“Ok! Okay. I’m sorry. You know, you actually look really cute. You’ve got a shiny name-tag, so official, and look at the little tree on your badge,” he stepped closer and tugged on your badge.

You couldn’t stop the corners of your mouth from turning up slightly. “No! Don’t. I’m mad at you,” you said laughing a little and turning your face away as he put his hands on your hips.

“Nah, you can’t stay mad at me,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. He had that mischievous smile on his face that was so entirely Dean.

You laughed again. “Next time you are wearing the humiliating undercover outfit." 

He shrugged. "Whatever. I’ll rock it. I ain’t scared,” He grinned at you again and pressed a kiss to your lips.


Ryan Lay / Wallride (2 angles) / Angels Landing, Utah / 2014

        Ryan and I were on a Coala Tree trip to Utah and we ended the trip by hiking the infamous Angels Landing hike at Zion National Park. I only say infamous because I am not much of a hiker and before going, all I heard about was how many people have died falling from cliffs on this hike. Six people in the last Ten years to be exact, which averages to about 0.6 people a year, but I prefer the annual death rate of most my hikes to be under the 0.2 mark. Naturally after making it to the top we thought it would be a good idea to grab his board and get a photo at a particular skate-able slab of rock. We got caught by a park ranger who claimed we would be arrested when we got to the base of the mountain, but it turns out he was bluffing, or maybe his buddies were too busy busting cartoon bears stealing pic-a-nic baskets.

  • Life Sexy: So, what will it be? Will you give up on love? Or will you give up on picnic baskets?
  • Yogi: I won't give up pic-a-nic baskets. I'll give up on love.