Eric got beat up. A lot. He was 5'8, with a mean grin and a mouth that got him into a lot of trouble. But Dylan, Dylan was sweet and sober, and smiled at his neighbors when he drove by. Dylan deserved diamond rings and sunshine filled picnics, not bruised knuckles and crying over coffee at 3 am.
When Dylan came to Eric’s house while his parents were out, limping, with a black eye and a cut lip, Eric wasn’t sure what to think. They didn’t talk, Dylan just sat at his worn down wooden kitchen table, while Eric pulled out the antiseptic and gauze that was used far too often. He sat down next to Dylan, gently wiping a cotton swab with the alcohol on it against his lip.
“Who was it?” Eric asked softly. “Because I’ll fucking kill them.” He got no reply, just a shrug.
“Why?” Another shrug. Eric kept at cleaning Dylan’s face, pressing an ice pack to his purple eye.
“It was those jock assholes, it was nothing. I got beat up, the norm. No big deal.” Dylan had finally become less stonelike, and spilled.
“Oh man, I’m gonna make sure those sick fucks are really damn sorry. They’ve never done it before, V. Why now?” Dylan looked at the ground, mumbling an incoherent response.
“What? I can’t fuckin hear you.” Eric was beyond frustrated by this point.
“I fucking said that they were talking shit about you. It’s fine, don’t make a big deal out of it or whatever.” Dylan talked politely, but with an agitated tone underneath it. Eric didn’t know what to think at this point, Dylan and him were best friends, so it made since, but it was a little extreme. Dylan got the shit beaten out of him because of Eric, and that put a sick feeling in the out of his stomach.
Dylan and him had grown up together, from playing with G.I. Joe’s and planning sleepovers, to playing with sawed-off shotguns and planning mass destruction. Dylan was his best friend, the sun to his moon, the shitty horror movies to his booze filled flasks, the disgusting chemical butter to his burnt popcorn. Dylan balanced him out, brought him down. But Dylan, God, he never thought Dylan would try to turn the tables.
“I’m sick of people treating you like shit, Reb. They don’t even fucking know you.”
And Eric couldn’t tell him he was wrong. They didn’t know him, at fuckin all, and it was absolute shit that everyone gave them so much to deal with. It was even worse that Dylan had to deal with it.
“Don’t…” Eric trailed off. “Don’t do that. I’m not worth the hassle. People are gonna talk shit anyways.” Dylan ran a hand through his golden hair, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Eric shook his head, because he really didn’t fucking get it.
“Eric, you are my world. You’re a god, man, a fucking legend. You’re amazing, and the fact that those meathead idiots can’t fucking see it makes me sick enough to bash their skulls in.” Dylan blurt the words all out at once, like he was spitting out something bitter.
Eric stared, Dylan and him still sitting at the table.
“You know I feel the same, right? You know-you know I care.” Eric was looking down at the table while he confessed it, suddenly pushing himself out of his chair and getting up to make a pot of coffee for them both. Dylan grabbed his wrist, pulling him back down.
“Can you just, like, stay? For a second or something, I don’t know.” Eric sat back down per Dylan’s request, his hand still holding Eric’s bony and narrow wrist for dear life. It was quiet, the hum of Eric’s refrigerator the background noise for this fucked up movie scene playing before both of their eyes.
Dylan wished this was a movie. He wished there were the conveniently placed paintings on the walls to hide the cracks, he wanted the perfectly picked t-shirts so he wouldn’t feel so fucking out of place in Eric’s tidy house. He wanted everything to be perfect- and it wasn’t.
“My parents are gonna be home soon, are you good to go up to my room?” Eric pulled his arm out of Dylan’s grip, and helped him up. They both headed down the stairs, and Eric left Dylan sitting on his desk chair.
“Coffee, yeah? We’re gonna talk.” He said, before slipping out the door. Dylan laid his head down on the table, his head was pounding and his lip stung every time his tongue shot out to lick his lips.
Eric arrived with two yellowing mugs, placed them on his desk and wiping his hands on his jeans. He grinned at Dylan, putting a cd into his player and pulling a chair up beside him.
They sat in the computer glow for a solid hour, Eric playing while Dylan silently watched, taking gulps of the burning brown liquid. They glanced at each other every now and then, turning a pink color when they caught each other’s gaze.
Eric got tired, and suggested they get ready to sleep. He let Dylan borrow some of his dad’s sweats and a t-shirt of his, which stretched tight across his chest and torso.
They headed to sleep, Eric facing Dylan’s back and Dylan facing the wall. After around 5 minutes of them sitting there, Eric heard Dylan start to cry. He got up and flipped on the lights, sitting at the foot of his bed.
His boy looked like a kid again, clutching the dark comforter of his bed and sobbing until his face turned red. Dylan sat up, and Eric pulled him into his chest. He didn’t stop crying, the tears soaking Eric’s shirt and Dylan’s bony head poking into the crook of his neck.
Eric stroked the back of his head, not knowing what he was really supposed to do. Dylan was letting out heartbreaking choking noises, and Eric patted his back.
The pair broke apart, Dylan wiping his nose and pressing his palms against his eyes.
“It’s fucking fine, I’m fucking fine,” and Eric shut him up with a swift kiss on the lips. It was awkward, and quick, and he turned bright red afterwards. There wasn’t really a lot of time passed before Eric leaned in for another one, this time not detaching their lips.
Eric tasted angry, like black coffee and cinnamon gum, and he bit down on Dylan’s lip. Blood filled their mouths, but they kept together, and their mouths collided viciously. There wasn’t music, and Dylan found himself having the same movie wish. He pulled Eric closer, resting a hand on his shoulder and one on his chest.
What she means:
Here, I'm using a trick called Scuttlebug Transportation. As you can see, like most enemies, scuttlebugs have a home, which is just a point in 3D space, and they'll patrol a certain radius around that point. So, if Mario enters that radius, they'll lunge at him to attack. But, unlike most other enemies, a scuttlebug's home can change positions, because if a scuttlebug bumps into Mario, the scuttlebug's home will update to where the scuttlebug was when the collision occurred. So, by strategically luring the scuttlebug to the edge of its radius and bumping into it, we can effectively transport the scuttlebug and its home.
Warnings: Fluff, Sad!Sam (I don’t know if that’s a real warning, it has a happy ending, though! The words in italics are from the original song.)
I’m a Swiftie, so I was listening to this AMAZING song by Taylor and Sam came into my mind. I recomend to listen to the song before reading this, but it’s okay if you don’t :) The hole song matches with SPN so bad! I loved writing this, hope you like reading it ;) This one goes to my beautiful SPN Squad, @lauraboline@nemesris@asparkshinesbright. I love you, girls! Also, i’m tagging the wonderful @the-mrs-deanwinchester, the amazing @redlittlefox, and the smut queen @abaddonwithyall :) Thanks for the support!
are taylor swift and katy perry really gonna bring up their dusty ass feud every time they release new music?? are we really gonna go thru another 10 or so years listening to songs like bad blood and swish swish?? can someone close to each of them take some fuckin action and tell them no one wants 2 eat their archaic ass rickety ass dusty ass beef anymore because i am frankly tired
Gravel To Tempo Hayley Kiyoko // Cleopatra The Lumineers // Closer The Chainsmokers Ft. Halsey // Hypnotic Zella Day // One Time Marian Hill // We Are Never Ever Getting Bad Blood Taylor Swift // Shut Up And Dance Walk the Moon // All Over CRUISR // I’m Good I’m Gone Lykke Li // I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You Black Kids // Ophelia The Lumineers // Cliffs Edge Hayley Kiyoko
if u like taylor swift u probably shouldnt read this bc im aboutta go off. she literally always tries to make everyone look like the bad guy and make herself look like the victim. i know the whole kanye west famous song is a big controversy with his video, but kim and kanye said they got her permission to use that line about her in the song and she even said she thought it was funny then after the song gets all popular and shit she comes out and says she is offended by it and she didn’t give him permission ??? so ppl will feel bad for her and take her side. NOW with calvin harris she helped with writing the lyrics to this is what you came for and she wanted to keep it a secret but since her and calvin broke up and the song is big she wants everyone to know and make it look like the whole song was hers :) thnk god calvin called out her crusty ass on tweeter