- ̥۪͙۪˚┊ ❛ why love myself (when i found you instead?) ❜ : ̗̀❥ james × jett ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
: ̗̀❥ RATING: G // WORD COUNT: 5,710 // CHARACTERS: jett stetson, james diamond // TAGS: one shot, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, slice of life, grocery shopping, domestic bliss, idiots in love, established relationship, schmoop, jealousy, protectiveness, insecurity, himbo boyfriends, prompt fill, jett-centric, i.e. a sad mad (smad?) jett lowkey adhd-monologues a whole loooot
: ̗̀❥ inspired by the song Glitter Times by Waterparks and dedicated as ever to the wonderful @cvsmicbaddie1 💜
: ̗̀❥ [Part 5 of Cupid Got Us F♡cked Up]
❝ so when you go, trap the feelings
we both know, line your ceiling
love you so rough it burns my bones
yeah, when you go, leave those feelings
home alone, busted pieces... ❞
The grocery trip wasn’t going out as well as Jett had hoped, and he was seething mad.
No, it wasn’t because he and his dumb boyfriend had wasted thirty minutes in the dairy aisle shivering and locked in a pointless heated debate about what kind of milk to get (James wanted plain oat milk—talk about Stuart Snooze!—but Jett wanted to try out this schmancy Japanese mushibou-gyuunyuu milk made from rice that was a million times healthier and was loaded with vitamins from A to Z and could probably extend your lifespan by like a good ten years or something, which they were so gonna need if they wanted to preserve their ‘best-looking people ever’ status). Or the fact that the gawky-faced teenager manning the checkout counter hadn’t been broken in on how to input simple coupon codes and nearly cheated Jett out of a good deal—seriously, 40% off on Le Labo hand soap and a free box of ultra-soft makeup tissues? That was a SuperStore steal!—if the scowly bearded manager with the unwashed apron and Hail Mary keycards hadn’t shown up to perform his pre-lunch break miracle (even with his reclaimed freebies, Jett still unfortunately had to use James as a human buffer to keep McNotLovin’It dude’s ick from spreading to him, as he made a mental note to cleanse his boyfie with palo santo and lavender incense later before he let him step a single cursed foot inside the apartment). Or even the disastrous fact that the flimsy paper bags ripped apart just as the couple had finally exited the premises and mister caveman-handed Diamond had to duck back and ask for some new ones, leaving one extremely miffed super actor superstar to chase after and pick up the tumbling products that had long-found their way to the disgusting confines of LA’s sidewalk gutters.
At that point, Jett’s life was just trying to be some sitcom. Some unfunny, sound effect-riddled, cheap cardboard sitcom that certainly didn’t deserve to have an A-list celeb such as bien à vous anywhere on its tiddlywinks show roster. If he heard that stupid disruptive uh-oh-oh song playing anywhere at all, he was seriously going to lose it and commit unspeakable acts of gorgeous violence (like how he played his role as a gorgeously evil half-wizard, half-demon in Witches of Rodeo Drive, but like, minus the star-spangled robe costume and zappy lightning magic and for realsies this time).
All of these consecutive troubles only really left the weary actor to wonder, not for the last time in his grievous life, why he even allowed James to tag along with his important shopping duties when he was perfectly capable of doing it alone without any added hassle. Sure, Jett could also just assign the weekly grocery list to his saintly agent and have her toss the task off to another lackey who’ll take care of everything without him having to lift a finger or touch the money with hideous old men in it, but he quite liked the rigmarole of this mundane ritual more than he’d openly admit, and he just couldn’t trust some unpaid intern to choose the perfect quality ingredients for his delectable recipes. Besides, Jett wasn’t about to pass up any easy opportunity to get all suavely styled up for the weekend and fatten up his paparazzi portfolio with candid photos of how glamorous and yet still smashtag relatable he was—tweenies and tryhards on ScuttleButtr ate up that kinda lifestyle press, after all.
James also had a big day off from howling in his papa dog’s studio today and an even bigger heart for wanting to help out...but that heart was unfortunately as sharp-witted as its biggest idiot owner and always ended up klutzily knocking the last seven letters out of assistance, no matter how desperately James wanted to spend his time with the amazing Jett ‘Sexyman’ Stetson enough to lap after his heels and do him all these spare domestic favours.
Which fine, Jett can’t really fault anyone for that, he liked having some (or lots of) extra muscle around and he was just that amazing after all—but he could, however, still fault James for the rest of this grocery pickle (no, not the ones that just did an Olympic-sounding splooshy dive into an open manhole). Matter of fact, why was the amazing Jett Stetson the one out here actively making a fool out of himself trying to play catch the freaking street cabbage anyway? For crying out loud, he was so not gonna make his super special cherry tomato couscous salad with cholera-infested chickpeas and sewer-tangy feta cheese!
Though, all things considered, their time at the grocery store was all sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows with a bearable side of bickering and business as usual. Surely a few lost purchases was the far ideal outcome than say, James’ rabid hockey hound besties making a surprise cameo and ruining their lovely day out together with some ‘brilliant plan’ that would inevitably burn down the whole establishment and get someone’s troublemaking butt carted off to the nearest LAPD station. But Jett found that it was always simply getting back home afterwards that was the hardest part of going out.
After all, he was going out with James Diamond, a looker and a stunner and a charmer all around, cicely smiles and a carved physique and a crooning voice that could haunt kaleidoscope daydreams and velvet-lined palace hallways alike. Whenever the heavens rained down to bless their horizons with affection, James always got soaked to the bone and still had enough space left to drown the ocean. Flitting spotlights and starry eyes couldn’t get enough of him, and neither could Jett—even if most of that irresistible attention came in patronising backchat and lethally exasperated doses (and sometimes sneaky kisses). Still, like the contrary was god’s gracious truth, maybe the actor should also count himself pleasantly lucky to be with such a spectacular trophy boyfriend for the crushers and the cameras...but then again, why should any other five cent vanilla-plain cretin be able to share the same four-leaf clover fortune as him?
It’s just not frigging fair.
No, it wasn’t some kinda weird obsession, whatever—‘cause people obviously obsessed over Jett, not the other way around!—but it was just plain common sense. Jett was more than used to getting attention. He doesn’t have to turn all choosing beggar for it like anyone else in this hack town, it was served up to him with a gold-flaked garnish and a lifetime supply of garlic breadsticks with an all-expenses paid bill, and that’s all part of the Stetson charm.
But when he was with James? As much as Jett hated to admit that he had met his match, the warning signs couldn’t lie when they were smacking into his forehead all over the city, reddening his vision and forcing him to pay attention to the attention that was supposed to be all his, now divided into measly portions. Wait, no, not just divided—it was like some dumb waiter with string worms for arms decided to draw the line between who was gonna get the bigger half and who was gonna starve for scraps.
Surprises, surprises, James always got his fill. And Jett was left feeling like the trophy idiot. It made him painfully sick to his stomach, that infuriating imbalance, feeling like he was somehow lagging a thousand steps away from James as they walked arms steadfastly looped and strides side by side down the bustling boulevards of Hollywood, Jett forced to take a backseat for once—even that alone was already unfathomable, unless he was being chauffeured around in his personal CW-provided limousine—and watch James’ hungry gravity suck every innocent passerby in, James Diamond in his best element and he knows it.
And he knows Jett knows it, too.
See, Jett wouldn’t give a sewer rat’s mangy butt otherwise. Have a bottle-blond boy draw down his pricey knockoff Ray-Bans for a ‘Cuda cool check-out and a sneaky snake-skinned wink or have a tropicana-fragrant girl flip her sundress and temptingly wiggle her fingers in the smoggy wind to the siren’s lure of a prospective date, fine, whatever—that was all standard shindig and fruit loops flattering. But seriously, did his jerkfaced Jimmy Dean really have to lay down the charisma card so thickly suffocating with polite affectations and keep going all showbiz talk-show to every sweaty stranger who stopped them in their tracks with a disgustingly-drawled beckon of his name?
One moment, James was holding Jett’s hand, tenderly rubbing his thumb over his boyfriend’s knuckles (a reflexive habit, it seemed, but an endearing one all the same), and juggling the stuffed paper bags in one cradled arm so he could stoop down to sneak Jett exasperated giggles and fleeting chocolate-chip kisses (James was one of those chronic post-grocery snackers, so Jett made sure to toss in some nice cookie treats or two in the shopping cart for him) as they talked about their plans for the rest of their treasured day off together; which resulted in the usual squabbles and tongue-in-cheek threats to shut up before the other’s cherry lips did the shhhhutting up for them.
But Jett can’t even enjoy that much, because everyone just kept getting in the way.
Have these rude litterbags seriously never heard of the side of the sidewalk? Trust the city of angels to be littered with devilish desperados looking for their next cheap thrill hit, carelessly sticking to boot soles and the roof of mouths like discarded cigarettes. Some frumpy Tweedledumb and their preening Tweedledork twinsy looking like Old Navy mannequins gone rogue, hanging around at CVS parking lots like their next illegal prescription fill depended on it always had a wry greeting, a smudged phone number, a halitosis-callous “ditch...whoever that total loser is you’re with and go out with me instead, why don’t you?” to sic upon James. Now Jett really wished one of the hockey hound besties would actually show up, so he could then sic them as an easy distraction for all the townie weirdos craning their necks out for a back-alley good time. Sure, Kendork might not fall for such a ruse, but maybe the helmet shortie terrier or poindexter nerd supreme could work well enough with biting off a couple ankles. Freaks, geeks, and wannabes were the new online trending topics these days too, wasn’t it?
James might kill Jett for it. Or James might actually have some spare brain cells in his elephant heart enough to understand that it was all a part of the fame game, just as much as Jett understood the best when to be a gracious gentleman and let someone else take the spotlight for once—nevermind that it was always inevitably going to get shined back to him. But this courtesy was saved for show premieres, press releases and junkets, and dazzling red carpet walks with fellow illustrious celebrities, not for some lame skeezebag with a pick-up line filthier than their fingernails trying to snatch up his man!
Jett couldn’t stand it anymore. His long-suffering pride absolutely would not stand up nor stand down for it, and he was on his last leg today. He could easily withstand a gaggle of fawning fangirls (‘big timers’ or ‘BTRmy’ or ‘rushheads’ or whatever the heck tacky title they called themselves—at least the Jett-Setters had a cool nickname to scribble all over the back of their lined notebooks) who wanted nothing more than an autographed Overeager Haberdasher headshot and a fantastical one-way trip into the esteemed James Diamond’s low-rise pants. Jett’s had some personal experience with that crowd himself, and more often than not, they were just some harmless little squawking ducklings with the occasional overexcited bitey oddball in between that a hefty bodyguard could easily handle.
But Jett would take that baby wacko wrangling any day of the week than having to deal with some disheveled unattractive rando shooting him the evillest eye that sent a cold shiver snaking down his spine and made him feel colder than getting trapped in a dairy aisle, while mister gross gawker pulled James’ ear real close and whispered something in it. Something slimy and deeply sickening no doubt, judging by the way James’ eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared into the luscious forest of his swoopy bangs. Even with all the various brazen flirtscapade moves Jett had witnessed against James today, that one was truly the lowest of shameless lows. If they handed out annual awards for Most Outstanding Creep, that stranger danger would win every single one without even having to show up.
But that wasn’t even the worst part of everything. Because Jett looked up from sulkily reshuffling his beat-up groceries for the nth time to witness James not immediately drawing back and defending his honour with a sword-fight (or maybe a more sensible shove-fight), and instead simply smiling his perfectly lethal smile as he made a firm grab for the man’s arm. And he leaned in uncomfortably close—making Jett crush up a handful of cherry tomatoes into bloody mush—and whispered something back, something that made the man’s sunken eyes bug out of their sockets as his jaw dropped to the floor and his Skeletor face burned red...even redder than the dripping fruit pulp that the enraged actor had slapped over James’ face in a rightfully aggravated fit. If he was gonna act like a clown, then he was gonna get treated like a clown.
The disgusting nerve of it all!
So no, it really wasn’t Jett’s best move. It was a move for sure, but causing a whole diva tantrum scene, dropping his crumpled grocery bag full of not-so-fresh organic produce for the second time that day, and abandoning James in the middle of the street with Abnormal Bates didn’t scream out superstar sophisticated—but what else was Jett supposed to do? Keep gritting his teeth and smiling politely to the ignorant vision-impaired plebians who didn’t have enough functioning brain parts to recognise and acknowledge his beloved presence? Keep letting those revolting schmucks get away with slobbering all over James as his clueless boyfriend did nothing but stupidly swallow their drip? Keep silently suffering through the blacktop-burning anger that blistered his perfect skin and made him feel hot and numb and shaky all over? Jett was gonna end up knocking someone’s pricey veneers out if he kept it up. Or vice versa, and he can’t get awesome acting roles and rock modelling his awesome movie posters with yucky dentures!
Jett didn’t know how long he ran for, didn’t really know where he was escaping off to, didn’t even realise he had curled up in some dirty alleyway next to an overflowing dumpster until the putrid smell hit him full-force and made him choke into nauseated rage and bitter laughter. Well, whatever. Maybe this was where he belonged right now—he was down in the dumps, after all. He’d laugh some more at his quick-footed wit if his twisted ankles weren’t actually killing him.
With a groan, Jett gingerly stretched out his feet, distastefully kicking aside a soggy takeout box as he did so. Really, he couldn’t have ran that far nor intensely to warrant such a kind of flaring pain. He seriously had to jump back on that elliptical. Or return to his weekly spin class with Anna-the-juice-cleanse-and-capybara-loving fitness instructor. Hopefully the wet market-smelling slimeball three stationery bikes behind Jett who kept ogling those unblinking fish eyes at him had finally decided to change gyms by now...
Jett’s begrudged musings were interrupted by a swarm of unidentifiable insects milling their way out of the discarded food box, as he started with a scream and curled himself up again and seemingly pulled fifty muscles in the process. Jett sighed resignedly. He was just so unlike his perfect baby blue boyfriend, who had the alarming workout ethic and brawny muscles of an ichor-guzzling demigod, who could compete in an Ironman marathon on a downright whim and win that first place red ribbon and sweetest Gatorade shower without breaking a single sweat, who could easily pick him up and carry him around like it was nothing and spoil him with supertastic cuddles like it meant the world and—
Jett only realised his grave mistake right as he felt someone’s brawny arms gently drape around him, the redolent smell of some toxic-man-branded ‘Cuda perfume, his favourite subtle spice aftershave, and the fresh sweetness of cherry tomatoes enveloping him and making his lungs hurt, hurt, hurt.
“Why are you still here?” Jett snapped, refusing to lift his head from his folded elbows. If he had to gander at that wide-eyed sad puppy dog look he knew all too well James was sporting like the latest Milan look, he was going to use the sheer brewing force of his evil will to zap him into a pretty-faced portobello mushroom (yes, very much like those meddling kids in Witches of Rodeo Drive). “You clearly don’t need me around!”
“Babe...what’s wrong?”
“I’m sick of people getting all upfront and personal and creep central with you! I’m Jett freaking Stetson, they should be looking at me, I’m amazing and gorgeous and like, the bestest superstar ever to exist in this slipshod city that I’m way too high-calibre to grace my brilliant presence with!”
“Seriously, is that it? You’re mad at me ‘cause I’m taking the attention away from you?”
“No, it’s because they’re taking your attention away from me, you dense idiot!” Jett’s tone had taken on a petulant whine, and he hated that he couldn’t help it. Just as much as James couldn’t help being so irritatingly...himself. After all, a good stupid heart got you some places, but stupidly good looks gave you the skeleton key to the entire world. Jett didn’t want to let himself open up like this, but James had to hear it from him sometime. If not now, then it would be never. “You crave all the attention and you get all of it whenever you want and from whoever you like and I wouldn’t care—but you also keep flaunting everything in front of me and practically shilling out VIP passes to your gunshow like you’re some kinda discount Oprah, and it’s really annoying! They don’t deserve it. They don’t deserve you.”
“Well, it’s not like I can really do anything about it—”
“Yeah, but you also don’t have to freaking enjoy it so much that you’re practically wearing me down with all the smarmy face-rubbing you’re doing!”
“Dude, seriously—ugh, look, believe me, I don’t really enjoy it as much as you think I do. And I swear I’m not trying to do anything like that to you like, at all.”
“Oh? Then why aren’t you acting like it?” Jett accusingly spat. “And seriously, why do you even like me, James?”
“What?!” James threw his hands up bewilderingly. “Where in the world did that come from???”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed by now or you’re just trying to play nice—‘cause you just love doing that with your innocent little boy act and shiny halo, huh?—but not a lot of people really like me. Sure, they adore me or fear me or obviously wanna be me but they never really care about me beyond that. And like whatever, they’re all just stupid jealous haters and unattractive losers who need lives anyway—but then maybe you shouldn’t have to put up with me, either. ‘Cause I hate fakers worse than plain jerks more than anything else, it’s so obnoxiously tiring. So. I’ll ask you again. Which one are you?”
“Jett, come on...we’ve been together for ages! What makes you think I’m still just faking all this?” James pleaded. “‘Cause if that’s the case, then I’m probably the best darned actor in the whole world and I deserve all the super cool awards and shiny trophies and stuff. But I’m not, you are. And if you’re asking me how I really feel about you, I can only really tell you one thing, and that’s I love you.”
“Yeah, you say that now ‘cause it’s what I wanna hear—but what if you fall in love with someone else, huh? You wanna settle for someone a lot less better than me? You’re gonna find your next love at first lousy sight and final happily ever after on these filthy streets and have your magical movie moment that even Hallmark wouldn’t freaking sell? And then what?” Jett’s shrill voice splintered into a thousand pieces, lodging in his aching throat and heaving chest and prickling his vision to a watery blur, smearing the beautiful image of James Diamond into bleeding bokeh lights. How easy it was to let him walk ahead and fade away, to leave Jett in this unknown alley stretching out to an obscure infinity so he can pick up his uglier pieces by himself and salvage what’s left of his shattered dignity somehow. “Then you’ll leave me too?”
“I’ll never do that even if you paid me a spajillion dollars,” James assured without hesitation, nuzzling his face on the crown of Jett’s head and planting small kisses all over it. Jett shivered lightly as the other boy indulgently breathed in the elusive fragrance of their latest experimental Tropical Coconut conditioner with shea deep moisture (Jett thought the packaging looked really pretty like him, James complained that he didn’t wanna smell like a beach, Jett called him an extremely rude rhyming word, and James gave up...well, after a little more physical persuasion). “And besides, what’s not to love? Like you said, you’re Jett freaking Stetson. You’re amazing and funny and super talented and surprisingly caring, and you can cook up exotic world-class dishes that could put every fancy-schmancy pricey restaurant in LA to shame, and you’re super smart with all those weird obscure history and fashion and culture thingies that even the genuisest person I know wouldn’t be able to catch up with. And yeah, maybe I get super annoyed sometimes, but that’s only because you’re also the best-looking person at the Palm Woods. Or maybe everywhere else you go, for that matter.”
“Well, duh!” Jett huffed with a bemused roll of his eyes, lightly beating a fist on James’ lap. “See, that’s exactly why I don’t even know why you bother with those scuttling street rats when you have me.”
“‘Cause they all want you too, it turns out.”
“...Come again for the big man?”
“You know what that crummy lowlife wanted from me? He was asking all about you, Jett.” James explained. “He said some really nasty things that he wanted to do with ‘your pretty friend over there’ if I did him a solid and introduced you ‘cause you way too busy with moping over the groceries to notice, and I had to very kindly tell him to shove off with sleazing out on my precious boyfriend before I put my pretty foot in ugly places the sun don’t reach. Believe me, I almost friggin’ did. I just can’t let anyone disrespect you or hurt you or speak about you like that, ever. It makes my blood boil just thinking about it...” he exhaled harshly and shook his head in resentment. “But luckily, you running off saved me from having to do anything really bad in the end, so there’s that.”
“Oh...”
“Yeah. And everything about this whole crazy sitch today, from our whole grocery shopping mess that was surprisingly fun to having to fight all those creeps away which was, well, not really so fun...all of it just made me even realise how much I don’t ever wanna lose you to anyone else.”
Jett didn’t respond. He couldn’t bring himself to, not without some oncoming embarrassing breakdown—and he’d had enough of those for one day, thank you very much!—so he settled for a sniffle instead. Maybe it was pathetic enough to sound cute. Or maybe it was the other way around. He couldn’t tell.
“I mean, do you know just how blessed I am to be with you?” James continued in an earnest whisper, lifting Jett’s chin to lovingly wipe off his cascading tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “That out of everyone you could’ve chosen, you went with me, James Diamond, the luckiest man in the universe? Do you know just how crazy you make me feel, babe? You make me feel so happy, so insanely wild for you, so much better everyday that I’m with you, and that’s never gonna change. As a famous pep-talking man always says, things like these come once in a lifetime, and I know that I’m in this for life. So no, I don’t care how many date-worthy people are roaming out there and asking for my number, ‘cause I’ll never feel anything as amazing as when I’m with you, and you alone.”
“Hmph...really?”
“Of course! You’re my boyfriend, my Jett-ski, the luuurve and liiiight of my life,” Jett scrunched up his nose at James’ unabashed cheesiness, making the singer laugh, “and I love you so much, and I’ll never stop loving you forever and ever, times infinity plus one. And I promise you with all my heart and soul and my awesomely smooth hair that I only have eyes for your gorgeous face, you sulky little idiot.”
“You better, or I’m poking them out with a kebab skewer—and it’d be a right shame, ‘cause you’ve got some pretty golden peepers on you and I’m gonna miss looking at them too.”
“I promise.”
“On your life?”
“What, the heart and soul and hair wasn’t enough for you?”
“See, I was almost convinced you weren’t gonna say something immensely annoying between all that glitter-sprinkled sappiness, which means that you’ve probably been replaced by an evil brainwashing skull-faced alien and then I’m gonna have to go all chew gum and kick butt on you.”
“Ugh, sure, I’m the one being annoying—and yes, of course on my life! On our lives together. And my lucky comb. And my cool white v-neck shirt that you keep stealing. And my gorgeously gorgeous washboard abs. Do you want me to go on? ‘Cause I could totally go on.”
“You honestly had me until that last part, which is a total lazy lie.” Jett snorted, poking at James’ stomach and making him burst out in a peeved giggle. “You’re starting to get all soft around the sides—I’m cutting you off from binge-watching Spanish telenovelas while scarfing those guilty pleasure Slap E. Cheese burger abominations with your sleepover besties before you turn all Stay Puft Diamond Boy on me.”
“Nah, that’s actually from you spoiling me all the time with your delicious home-cooking, ya big dummy,” James said, coyly spreading his arms wide open. “But does that mean you don’t want supertastic cuddles from your Jimmy Dean anymore?”
“I didn’t say that...” Composing himself with another tiny sniffle, Jett threw himself on James and smothered him in a koala hug, nearly knocking him flat on his back and onto the teeming insect trashopolis prospering on the ground. “And well, next time, you have to be super mean to literally anyone and everyone else who tries to get with you!”
“Ooh, you know I can’t do that, fuzzybumpkins. You know the paparazzi’s totally gonna tear me to beautiful confetti shreds if rumour gets out that James Diamond of wholesome boyband act Big Time Rush is a total jerkface to fans, and then the whole band’s gonna get in big time trouble with Gustavo and Kelly and big boss Griffin over all the bad PR, and we can’t really have that, can we?”
“Eh...who cares? You’re badly due in for an image do-over anyway, ‘cause the whole snoozy sweetheart show is really starting to go past its prime like rancid oat milk—anywayzies, haven’t you heard lately that bad boys and grunge gangs are making a surprising comeback these days?”
“Jett...” James sighed.
The actor pouted at his boyfriend’s hushed scolding, but slowly shook his head in begrudged understanding anyway. “Okay, maybe not then. But just remember that you’re mine, okay?”
“Awww,” James cooed, biting back a smug smirk, “I love it when you get all adowable and possessive with me.”
“Shut that little mutt mouth—and you’re still mine!”
“All yours forever, babe.” Jett felt James’ lips grazing his goosebumps-stippled nape, pleasantly warm and smiling with the quiet promise of forever, and Jett had no choice but to believe him. Curse his sneaky elephant-hearted charmer for being so good at making him fall in love again and again and still make it feel brand new. Being with James really was once in a lifetime, and Jett was deeply doomed and in it for life—on their lives together.
“Okay...the paparazzi’s totally not gonna...” Jett absently muttered, and gasped in horror once the realisation hit him like a charged clown slap to the face. “Were there any of them today?! Did you hear clicking cameras anywhere or see any E!News vans around?! Did they see any of this go down?!”
“Jett, chillax, I don’t think—”
“No, you don’t, but freaking listen to me—you may be fine with having a rowdy rockstar rep on blast, but I absolutely cannot have anyone seeing me, the amazing Jett Stetson, slap anyone outside of my show-stopping award-winning teen dramas—or—or even dumpster camping!” The shaken actor yanked his shirt collar to cover his face up to his nose and distrustfully looked around the dismal area, using his brawny human buffer to shield him from any potential showbiz vultures lurking around the corner.
“Hey hey, don’t worry—I’m sure we can take it on together,” James assured. “I’ve been through some way worse scandals before...like that song swifting thing with Kendall and Lucy, and Carlos and Logan accidentally terrorising street grandmas, and even Cher Lloyd getting real mad and going after my pretty face!” He threw in a mortified signature hand-face move for extra emphasis. “So we can handle it easily. And if things get out of hand, then...me and the boys will take care of it.”
Jett arched a suspicious brow at him. “Does your ‘grand plan’ for it involve low-level mischief crimes, weird crank calls and ridiculous costumes, and tacky tree hats?”
“Whaaaat??? Noooo, not at all, like we’re—we’re just gonna, y’know, haha...” a sheepish James coughed as he hastily knocked off the leafy headdress that had inexplicably popped up on him. “Like I said, don’t even worry about it, babe!”
“Suuure...”
“And seriously, I’m really super sorry I kinda caused all that trouble just because I didn’t pay more attention to you today. I mean, I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but I was kinda busy fighting off everyone else who wanted the same thing with a limp baguette.”
“I’m really super sorry you didn’t pay more attention to me too, ‘cause I’m not the one who’s missing out here!”
“Clearly not.” James chuckled. “Anyway...you wanna get outta dodge now or what? This is sweet and all, but the paps still have a good chance of catching us in a bad spot and we’re not exactly in the best setting for this rom-com movie moment to sell to Hallmark...unless we’re secretly filming a segment for HGTV’s Double Dumpster Divers Week and you’re totally punking me hard with the dumpster camping right now. Which if you are, then it’s working, ‘cause well. This place seriously stinks.”
“I think that’s the nasty feral pheromones of all those milquetoast flirters and desperate chancers clinging on you, actually,” Jett snarkliy pointed out. “But we probably should go now, yeah.”
“After you, my darling.”
With a graceful flourish, James stood up and outstretched a hand to help Jett out. Jett accepted it and shrieked in surprise as James suddenly whirled him around, holding him snugly by the waist and dipping him low before bringing him back up in a tight embrace, laughing delightedly at his flustered state. Applemint-cool breaths tickling Jett’s mouth, James cupped his face and leaned in for a happily-ever-after kiss, but Jett interrupted it with a generous pinch of James’ cheek, making his boyfriend cry out in indignant protest as he profusely rubbed at his throbbing face, now red as cherry tomatoes (but minus the smacking application of said fruit this time around).
“Don’t think I’ve fully forgiven you, Diamond boy—you’re not gonna get away with your crimes that easy!”
“What can I do to make it up to you? I’ll do anything, I swear.”
“Well, I think I have a few good ideas.” Jett grinned toothily, ocean eyes crashing with the familiar tidal wave of mischievousness James had come to both dread and look forward to. With the amazing Jett Stetson, it was always going to be a surprise, but he knew James wouldn’t have the light and luuurve of his life any other way. “But first, we should probably get that rotten smell off you with a nice long bubbly bubble bath, then I’ll whip up a super special, three-course, hopefully sewer disease-free dinner for deux, and then you could show me how just much you’re mine, babe.”
With their scores and plans finally settled up, Jett softly kissed James and gave his flushed cheeks one last fond pinch before intertwining their hands to drag him all the way back to the Palm Woods, their haul of battered grocery bags threatening to fall apart again, their coupled cicely smiles gleaming bright and sweet in the throes of a languid weekend afternoon. So maybe the grocery trip didn’t exactly go as Jett had planned, but it didn’t really matter anyway.
Going home was with James Diamond was always the best part of everything.
❝ so when i go, f♡♡k those stupid girls
that don’t mind their business
hope you know you’re the only one
‘cause i’d sleep on your sidewalk ; ❞
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pop !
giving them a balloon with a confession in it and running away,
premise. out of confession ideas? sick of the pile of stupid papers crumpled up on the leg of your desk? or perhaps you're just in the 'you only live life once' mindset. since the school year is ending, why not get rid of the annoying feeling of him tingling your mind? (in the form of a balloon, you never said you were gonna stick around!)
characters. all sorted by dorm
content. mc runs away after giving it, based on a tiktok I stumbled across approximately a year ago... mentions of marriage (one sign and some were speeding through the future)
note. savanaclaws part hmmm yummy
heartslabyul
unsurprisingly, riddle gets a lot of bizarre things from students and professors alike. confessions are one thing but having one in this... circular, red, full of helium balloon is certainly a surprise. creative, he'll give them that. if anything he's just confused with it in his arms as you just sort of, shove it in his arms and run away. he recognizes you easily but once cater plucks it out of his grip and shows him the message he just turns red.
trey is the type of guy to accept whatever you give him, honestly. it doesn't matter if you give him the most random of items, he'll take it without a single word of query (unless it's really questionable.) you could hand him a bottle of mustard in class, trey'll just blink and hold onto it patiently. a pair of batteries? thanks he guesses. a red, inflated balloon? he spares you a questioning glance but you're already collecting dust with how fast you ran away so he turns it and resists a smile. clearly spotting the bold letters.
the opposite of clover, cater just doesn't take anything from you unless it piques his interest or is just a casual 'hold onto this for a few' like water or something. things bordering past unusual is what he'd hesitate to take, though less given he trusts you. sometimes he doesn't take it all together simply cause he doesn't feel like it. caters probably updated on everything so when you shove the balloon in his arms and beeline he's pulling out his phone ready to scream his ass off in his dump account. (also gotta magicam this, duh.)
will most likely just dump it on the ground without another thought. or hand it back to you. ace does not care about balloons, he might even pop it in your face. that is, if you stayed for more than a second. he feels more inclined to peer further cause you ran away so fast. you looked embarrassed, and he finds out quickly why you'd proceed to never show up to his face for the following week when he spots it. stares at it dumbly for like, a minute before taking off after you... be scared ig.
added to the top ten best moments of his life note on his phone. deuce silently highlights your name on it with the same angry, red bump on his forehead because he accidentally ran into a pole midst trying to find you around the campus. he had the same idea as ace (twins) which is finding you immediately except once he read the confession he promptly lost all his braincells in the process. so he's very excited, slash embarrassed, slash shy? and can't conjure any logic cause it's just your face.
savanaclaw
jokes on you. you think he's gonna make an effort to catch your stupid balloon? leona just watches it drop to the floor. the effort is only exerted when he's absolutely sure you've run away on your slow legs, he's not bashful—not at all. maybe that's just denial speaking though. he takes one look at the balloon, and pops it with a single dig of his nail. the stare is so brief that you'd doubt if he ever read it at all, when the evidence of your apparent love is now non-existent in the physical world, very much still lingering inside him. leona comes to the predicament that he can't seem to sleep days after.
ruggie is all too familiar with the lack of appreciation some folks hold towards cheaper material gifts. like a luxury jewel, a big, shiny lil' thing ultimately rotting in the closet of some soul cause its the 'price' that counts. he spots the words easily, discerning the black ink. not entirely formed with straight lines, the keen eyes of his spots the wriggles some hold. as though whoever wrote was nervous and he bores an impish grin. (and some back corner of his closet holds no big, pricey jewel, but the deflated balloon is worth all the more to him.)
more likely to leave it on accident. after falling victim to the annoying pranks his other first year 'friends' like to do, with him as the victim apparently. he's more suspicious of it than anything, jack does not want a face full of whipped cream once again. he stares at it like it's an alien and only goes for the initiative to take it into his hands when it rolls and showcases the very bold text, highlighted and straight to the point. jack inevitably ends up accidentally popping it due to the fear that some other person probably saw it, he did not mean to wreck it. atleast not with a messy chain of thoughts, but hey. atleast he got the message...
octavinelle
well versed in catching you in a gentle manner, if you ever slipped (he definitely did not practice.) so azul's reflexes respond quick enough to capture the red little thing with ease. he recognizes it as one of your antics, and he rarely doesn't humor them since it was harmless ones that don't really get under his skin, unlike that of the tweels... the curiosity of looking forward to whatever you had far outweighed any annoyance, and great sevens he might actually combust. ("JADE PREPARE THE LOUNGE—") <- absolutely ready to initiate the plans he had detailed through a script ages ago if this were to ever happen, with a red face. ha, ha.
either clueless, or already got an idea based entirely on the adorably stiff look on your face. jade easily puts two and two together, it's quite funny because he picks it up and doesn't spare a single look. stalking off to find you immediately, and only then does he take a peek as to whatever made the balloon special, right in front of you cause apparently he's gotta witness your raw embarrassment in the flesh?
floyd is likely not interested in the ball in the first place, he thinks you want to play catch so he runs after you with a laugh that... makes you a lot more concerned. he flings it uselessly to the face of some poor soul before he sprint after you, probably traumatizing them when they spot the 'I like you' on it, and when they realize they got it from the resident terrorist whose definition of 'I like you' is 'you're entertaining, I'm gonna keep on playing with you'. (only blinks when you tell him about it, seeing as he isn't close to releasing you anytime soon from his arms.) caught you!
scarabia
sparkles, around the sun... too bright... kalim's blinding everyone else with his obvious joy. almost immediately turns it and it's clear he saw something he really liked cause he has one of those grins, really wide, showing off his teeth and his face scrunches up to the point where you could barely spot the red irises of his eyes. his lips are wobbly too! and he thought the notion was simply too cute... (so much he just had to send it back, so you could feel what he felt too!) except it comes in a hundred times balloons inside your home.
really confused. is this supposed to be a new form of comfort in the era that he hasn't caught up with yet? jamil does nothing much to stop you from running away, yeah. that's your choice but it did strike an inkling of suspicion in him. with the way you aggressively shoved the balloon in his arms before you ran away makes him think it's contents are supposed to be for him only. seeing as you collected dust with that sprint, so he brings it home. and damn, thank god he did because seven forbid if anyone else actually saw the flicker of bashfullness in his expression, hopefully not his warming ears either.
pomefiore
you try to fool him by not rushing up to him, shoving it and then speeding away for once. but instead calmly placing it in his arms and then walking away like it might be the last time yall have a friendship haha (👀) vil sees right through you either way. dare I say he thinks the whole execution is strange, he means, you could literally just walk up to him and say the exact same thing written on the balloon and he would've loved it either way but eh, atleast you got it out!
don't walk into his room cause you will probably the very prominent place the balloon has in his room. rook surprisingly did not put it on a pedestal which is tame for his nature, but it does have a place in the corner of stuff he absolutely adores. you'd think you'd spared yourself from the embarrassment of seeing his reaction cause c'mon, that was a confession. it's nerve-wracking! but NO cause you spy him outside the window of your class and suffer a heart attack (3rd floor btw)
wherever he read that, epel's jaw drops. people would mistake him as someone who escaped from a mental asylum from the way he's gaping at a balloon like he just got told vil schoenheit got canceled on magicam for some controversy (he in fact, did not.) spends so much time staring at it, and the following where he's managed to snap out of it is spent also staring off into the distance *wedding bells ringing*
ignihyde
uuuuhhhhh... either send it to him digitally or shove it inside his room and dip?? if we're going with the latter, idia doesn't even notice until like, a day after cause he's been playing for. and it isn't even him who notices!! it's ortho!!! even if he did find it he would've ignored it, but behold, ortho, who reads the text in a hilariously flat tone. idia thought his brother was professing his love until the boy reveals it was from you. (nearly falls off the chair, then actually falls when he realizes it's been a day. imagine getting ghosted irl haha)
ortho could be the delivery boy if you're too embarrassed lmao. will help you in constructing a more poetic way with words but honestly the "YOU'RE CUTE LETS DATE" gets it done. boy probably doesn't understand why you don't wanna do it yourself, and records the entire thing, reaction of the person? forwarded to you until he leaves. but now you're suffering through wanting to watch, and not because you're too pussy to actually do it.
diasomnia
what... malleus is the equivalent of '???' like he's seen a few of these unique, forms but he never got the purpose of them. so he assumes it's like, some nice gift of human traditions question mark. so he appreciates it either way, he looks content honestly which is funny cause the terrifying wizard looks kinda silly holding that balloon like it's a child. actually you should've just gave him a blank balloon cause once he spots the confession, oh honey. are you fine with early marriage?
if you can't find lilia might as well yeet the balloon in the ceiling. chances are, he's there and he's gonna catch it. there's already a cheeky smile quirking up the ends of his lips, usually he'd have some sort of retaliation on the personal attack you inflicted on his heart but oh dear, it's strangely blank. he's humming, the round thing upside down as he rubs his chin in contemplation. everyone's just scared at the echoing giggles of the already dark hallway.
an attack? AN ATTACK! unlike lilia who knows how to use the figurative words youth joke about all the time, sebek is... hilariously serious about most things, if not so much that it strikes just a teeny tiny concern in your mind. honestly you didn't take much into account, not the fact that he might consider it as an assault or something because you're already speeding away. apparently not having gotten too far cause he catches up easily and holds you up by the back of your collar like a cat. (you'd most likely have to mention the words cause all he registered was the apparent attack, when he does check he goes redder in the face and accidentally drops you. nows your chance to run!!)
*angelic voice singing* silver, my boo boo, I mean what...? felt something soft being squeezed into his arms, he knew it was you but assumed it was a pillow so he just?? used it as a pillow?? under his head now?? most folks would be confused at the sight of the sleepy guy laying on a balloon cause, one, it might pop and startle everyone in vicinity, two, there's words scribbled on it. although cut off since his head is blocking the way, but the 'LIKE YOU' is really obvious. so he wakes up, glances at it and goes back to sleep, except he couldn't cause the balloon actually popped comically the same time he absorbed it in.
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