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Title: I AM ALL YOURS
Description: open.


DALE CASH - April 7, 2012 04:20 PM (GMT)
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<div style="height:270px; width:375px; background-image:url('http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif'); background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #dbdbdb, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif);
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<div style="width:375px; text-align:center; font-family: garamond; font-size:28px; text-transform:lowercase; letter-spacing:2px; line-height: 70%; color:#B5B9B8; text-shadow:#f6f6f6 1px 0px 0px; margin-top:15px;"><i>so please be all mine</i></div>


<div style="width: 365px; background-color: f3f3f3; opacity: .5; filter: alpha(opacity=50);">
<div style="width: 360px; text-align: justify; color: 3F3F3F; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 170%;">

<div style="text-align: center; color: 111111; overflow: hidden; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8.5px; padding-bottom:2px; padding-top:5px; letter-spacing: 2px; opacity: .3; filter: alpha(opacity=30);">1043 words. open. kitties. </div>

the day had started off as any other would... dale waking up, climbing out of bed completely naked and ignoring any comments on this that may come his way, going to get a glass of orange juice and an apple to eat, sitting down (still wearing no clothes) and watching tv for five minutes before getting bored, taking a shower, getting dressed and trying to figure out some way to turn gloves into socks. he wouldn't complain about any of that even though it happened pretty much every day. to be honest, he rather enjoyed it, especially when people complained about him being naked. could he help it that he got too hot at night? they should be used to seeing his penis by now - the tour had been going on for long enough. his band obviously knew mr penis very well, it was the people that had recently started working for them that didn't. ah well, people always seemed to like something new and exotic.
<p>
one mysterious event happened to flip his day completely upside-down: a cat appeared on his bed. he couldn't help but wonder what the cat was doing there. this, perhaps, may not have seemed that curious to any average person. in fact, to dale, it usually would have been an enjoyable surprise. but today? oh, no. it just so happened that the previous night he'd been walking back to the bus alone and had spotted a pair of eyes staring at him. his first instinct was to close his eyes in case it was a basilisk and was going to petrify him. it took only moments to realize that he'd already looked directly into the eyes and would've been dead if it was a basilisk. when he opened his eyes again, they were gone. for the entire journey he kept thinking he could see them following him, but put it down to a mild case of schizophrenia that he was now convinced he had. it took only one dream to confirm that it was a cat, because the exact same thing happened again when he fell asleep, but in this dream, the eyes revealed themselves to him as the mighty cat. he was then forced to watch as the cat snuck around at night murdering innocent victims. it had all been so horrific to him. but it was just a dream.
<p>
...or was it? here was the cat, staring right at him with those evil eyes. he tentatively put a hand out to touch its ear. one tiny little graze of the thumb and its ear was having a wild spaz attack. it must've been rabid, or at least insane. he touched it again and the spazzing continued. what was this demon doing intruding on his bus? who had let it on?!?! he'd have to have a word with keegan. dale didn't doubt that he'd let such a creature on. maybe even marshall had decided that a cat would make a nice addition... well, that was very, very wrong. this cat was an intruder. it was not wanted. did he have the guts to pick it up and drop it outside? no. so he continued for minutes, poking its ear repeatedly and staring with wide eyes and it twitched.
<p>
the cat let out a loud meow that made dale jump so hard he slammed against the wall behind him in fear. that was that. he was off the bus in a flash, feeling like superman as he sped off faster than he even thought was possible. once safely outside the bus, he collapsed in a heap on the floor to try to catch his breath. dale being dale had a little laugh to himself at what an idiot he was and then fumbled in his pockets for some form of alcohol. no luck. he'd have to go back on the bus to that wretched thing. maybe that was a bad idea. what if it was jumping around right now, raiding the cupboards and casting demonic spells? cats liked to do that, he'd read about it in history books, he was sure of it. it was a grey, fluffy cat. at least it wasn't a black cat - they were definitely demons.
<p>
thinking about it, the ground outside his bus was pretty comfortable. it was cold and made his butt feel like it was made out of stone, but it was fine. he could deal with that. he'd stay out here for a few hours and wait for somebody to come along to save him. hopefully there were no windows open, otherwise he would be in real danger and would have to flee the area. he had a quick glance above him just to check, and was happy to see that none on this side were open. to be honest, it was so much effort just to open one that nobody really bothered. they could all deal with the smell of man (probably all down to dale and his love for getting sweaty). it wasn't that bad of a smell. it was sort of overpowering, but nothing they hadn't all come across before. at least they weren't on a bus full of women. the smell of vagina was not nice. worse than man smell, in his opinion.
<p>
dale began to hum a merry tune to himself. he honestly sucked at inventing melodies, so it didn't take too long for him to start with him famous 'boom, chh, boom boom, chh' and tapping of the legs. it was nice to pretend to play the drums. it didn't damage his ears and it didn't require half as much effort. the only disadvantage was that he didn't get the delights of smacking justin bieber in the face like he did when on his kit. ah, how he loved the pictures of horrible celebrities on his drums. the selena gomez picture fell off a lot because he liked his small tom so upright, but that was nothing a bit of sellotape couldn't fix. he wondered if he'd ever meet the girl to tell her what a fucking idiot she was...
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MARSHALL MATHIAS - April 10, 2012 07:19 AM (GMT)
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<div style="font-size: 42px; font-family: 'wire one', sans-serif; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align: center; color: #341D0A; line-height: 60%; padding-top: 10px;">i'm running on empty, i'm just so tired</div>

<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure what I'm looking for
I'm a voice on a phone that you rarely answer anymore
I came in here alone
Came in here alone
But that doesn't scare me like it did seven months ago
I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure where home is anymore

Been on a steady fast food diet
Like we're this generation's Morgan Spurlock
But we don't admit defeat
My body feels rejected and I can't say that I blame it
My heart keeps saying stay young
My lower back seems to disagree
I unrolled a cheap cotton blanket on an old dirty couch
I felt the year start to wind down
I can't stand any dead space
Empty beds bum me out
</div></div>

user posted image


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if marshall's day was going to start off anyway but abnormally, then there was going to be something wrong, obviously. this morning was a kind of mixture. dale had climbed out of his bunk naked, which happened kind of a lot, but each time marshall had to roll his eyes and look away because he didn't want anyone to notice that his face was close to turning beet read whenever dale was less than fully clothed. but still anything remotely “normal” in the world of “normal” people was beyond him. he didn't know what it was like to be simple anymore and he didn't know really how to deal with the fact that he wasn't in his old life anymore, and he hadn't been for the past few years or so. not that he missed his old life – there wasn't a long of it to miss after all. it had mainly just been classes and bullshit and avoiding his parents but still receiving money from them every once in a while because he knew that they still worried about him, even though he was a faggot. the thing marshall was most unaccustomed to, were the people he'd been touring with for how ever long. next in line were all familiar. he'd known most of them since they were a lot younger and most of the crew were like brothers to him. but everyone else? marshall had never had a lot of problems making friends before, and it wasn't that he was having trouble, he just constantly felt like he was out of the loop with everything. like, he was too focused on working to really notice the social things that were going on. not that it mattered. in marshall's mind, everything was professional and it had to stay that way. well, most everything.
<br><br>marshall didn't have a lot of work to do during the day. since they were touring, most of his job was doing himself. after all, next in line were pretty responsible guys, well, whatever, keegan was responsible, and alexander was... well, he was trying his hardest and he didn't mean to be as ridiculous as he was. at least, marshall assumed that was the case. in the long run, the point was marshall didn't have very much scolding to do in terms of being professional and keeping them all out of trouble. at this point, all he had to do was make sure they were at sound check on time and they didn't leave the expensive equipment lying around. which happened rarely anyway, so he wasn't really worried too much. marshall wasn't a worrier anyway, so it didn't really matter. either way he was good at handling situations and junk like that. with all the lack of work he had to do, he spent a lot of his day keeping damian company as he did his own work. it was interesting – marshall found that a lot of being tour manager was like managing a band. except poor damian had a lot more children to worry about, while marshall had been blessed with something that was pretty easy. but he wasn't taking advantage of them, or anything like that. he was eternally grateful. but marshall wasn't one to complain about work. he was very driven, and eager to do work and things like that. in fact it was a bad day when he was forced to do absolutely nothing. he hated the feeling of being absolutely useless, and he tried to avoid it as much as possible. hence the reason he stayed away from the bus all day, even though they didn't exactly have anything scheduled. no show til tomorrow, no previously engagement.
<br><br>soon however, he'd gotten bored of damian and decided that even though video games were probably the most useless things on earth, he might as well go play some because there wasn't really anything else to anyway and sitting in the shade of the bus was better than the fucking hot sun. as he made his way out one of the back gates towards the parking lot, he lit up a cigarette that he'd been keeping behind his ear for a time like this. he new he needed to quit smoking, but he also knew that it wasn't going to happen anytime soon. but the thought of quitting, one day, was enough to keep him satisfied that he was on the right path. he was dressed casually: red next in line v-neck tank that showed off his tattooed arms, shoulders and upper chest; tight blue skinnies that hung low on his hips, so that his butt and black boxer briefs were on display; on his feet were simple beat up vans that probably weren't even his, but whatever; he wore a backwards detroit tigers baseball hat, and sunglasses. even though he hated baseball and sunglasses usually made his eyes hurt. he approached the van from the back, and there was no one in sight. thank god – he wasn't in the mood for someone picking on him for wasting his time playing xbox. but to his surprise, when he rounded the corner there was dale, sitting on the ground, drumming with his fingers on his legs. marshall felt something in his stomach do something weird. fuck he hated feeling the butterflies when dale was around. mostly because, well fuck, they were working together, marshall was his manager, how wrong was that?
<br><br>
obviously, they'd been friends before that. or something like that. how marshall came to be with the band was a really kind of useless story but in the long run, you could argue that he'd known dale ONLY because of the band. but you could also say that he hadn't become their manager until AFTER he'd developed the weird little obsession slash crush slash bullshit. marshall pulled himself together, and made his way to the bus - he leaned against the side, a few feet from dale let his cigarette dangle between two slender fingers. what are you doing dale? he knew he had to keep it simple, or he might do something he'd regret. like i dunno jump him and grab his dick or something. because that's what he wanted to do. he just looked so sexy... sitting on the ground. yeah, sure, marshall was a little weird, but whatever. did you get locked out? no – it's open... oh, it's fuzzy! he'd approached the door and opened it, and a cat scampered out and off across the parking lot towards make dirty words sound pretty's bus. hun, cat's aren't going to hurt you. were you sitting out here because of the cat?! marshall already knew the answer, they'd had this conversation many times before. how felix's cat had gotten on the bus... marshall would never know. but he wasn't really bothered enough to ask. he took the steps up to the bus quickly and headed straight for the tv and game console in the back. crashing down on the couch, he took a deep breath in to settle his heart rate, which had risen as he'd brushed past dale on his way into the bus. the smell of man and cologne was heavy, but it was nothing he minded too much. better than the stank of old underwear. he reached out one foot and flicked the on switch of the xbox with his toe. then he held up the two controllers, and looked around for dale. are you going to play, or a i just going to find someone who's not a loser online



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<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">TAGGED FOR WILLOW / DALE, IT'S ------ 1263 WORDS, AND THE LYRICS ARE FROM CAME OUT SWINGING BY THE WONDER YEARS. CODED BY ME C=</div></div>

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DALE CASH - April 10, 2012 10:04 AM (GMT)
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<div style="height:270px; width:375px; background-image:url('http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif'); background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #dbdbdb, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif);
-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0))); "></div>


<div style="width:375px; text-align:center; font-family: garamond; font-size:28px; text-transform:lowercase; letter-spacing:2px; line-height: 70%; color:#B5B9B8; text-shadow:#f6f6f6 1px 0px 0px; margin-top:15px;"><i>so please be all mine</i></div>


<div style="width: 365px; background-color: f3f3f3; opacity: .5; filter: alpha(opacity=50);">
<div style="width: 360px; text-align: justify; color: 3F3F3F; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 170%;">

<div style="text-align: center; color: 111111; overflow: hidden; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8.5px; padding-bottom:2px; padding-top:5px; letter-spacing: 2px; opacity: .3; filter: alpha(opacity=30);">1122 words. marshall. nyaaaah dale's all shy... shy for dale. </div>

it was such a nice day outside. he was very thankful for the fact that it wasn't pouring it down with rain. he definitely would've still been sat outside on the ground even if it was snowing. this was probably the cat's plan all along. that sort of made him want to overcome his fear and go in for the kill with the cat. he genuinely considered it for a while, but decided he wasn't brave enough. he could just picture it now: him going onto the bus feeling all brave and imagining he was holding a sword, and the cat making one swiping movement that made him flee once again. that or death. those animal had really fucking sharp claws. one little stab at a main artery and dale would be dead. he wondered if anyone would miss him. probably not; everyone just found him annoying.
<p>
one pleasant surprise arrived in the form of marshall. could he, perhaps, save him from this wretched creature? he was definitely able to do the job, but would he want to? dale was about to ask him, but then marshall began to speak and his jaw just sort of went limp and he looked up at marshall to admire his beauty. how nice it was to have beautiful friends. he wanted to lean closer, but he was being smothered by cigarette smoke, so instead found himself leaning back. he was gone before he could attempt to correct this horrible mistake, but dale was still staring at the spot he'd been stood. marshall opened the door. the cat came running out. dale literally leapt to his feet, stumbling over as he did so and threw himself away from the direction the cat was going.
<p>
"yes, i was sitting out here because of the fucking cat! it was going to kill me! why did you just open the door without warning?!" dale grabbed his heart, which was racing for several reasons. the main reason probably wasn't the cat, but nobody was to know that. marshall had actually scared the shit out of him. he was surprised he didn't pee his pants in fear. he didn't seem too bothered anyway. dale just followed him up the steps of the bus, feeling a bit like a puppy, the way he'd just follow marshall everywhere. marshall would notice that he always followed him like that... he had to take a different turn. he found a cupboard quickly and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. beautiful. he took a few long and much-needed gulps with the intention of slowing his heart-rate a bit. why he thought that'd settle his heart, he didn't know, because it seemed only to get faster. whatever. he loved alcohol and it gave him more of an excuse to molest penguins.
<p>
"i'm gonna play! just needed a pick-me-up." he smirked and placed the bottle down on the floor at their feet and took the controller from marshall. he knew for a fact they wouldn't be going on final fantasy, not that it was two player, because marshall didn't like it. that sort of baffled dale, but he wouldn't go on about it too much in case marshall got too annoyed at him. he sat down on the couch a little way from marshall. he stared at the tv screen for a few moments, but he just felt so awkward like this. he liked physical contact all the time. he didn't care how much he liked marshall and how much people shouldn't know, he was going to snuggle him.
<p>
he launched himself in marshall's direction and put his arms around his neck, sticking his tongue out at him. "the lack of hugging was making my penis feel lonely." he didn't linger for too long, and moved marshall's hands for him so that he could slide underneath them and rest his head on his lap, lying down. he realized how dangerously close he was to marshall's package, and leant down to take another swig of the whiskey to make him feel that little bit more normal. it burned his throat, but he loved it. alcohol wasn't alcohol unless it made you feel pain. he was one that liked the taste anyway. most people questioned that, but dale just did. to him it tasted like fun, confidence and not giving a shit about anything. it burnt his insides, but in a good way. sort of like exercising. it was fucking annoying and made you out of breath, but in a good way, because you knew it was doing good stuff for you.
<p>
"are you gonna choose a shitty game? because i can't handle that, chip." he smiled a little bit to himself at the new nickname he'd come up with. to be honest, he'd been calling him that in his mind for a while. he suited the name, and he was so similar to dale sometimes that he just had to be called chip. he was similar, but better. he was so much more mature than dale was. it really made him feel inferior and not even worthy of hanging around him. he didn't know if it was normal to be this intimidated by the person you liked... if he liked him. whatever 'like' meant. fuck, why was he even considering liking this boy in this way? he hated relationships. they made him feel queasy and put him off a person. but when he thought about marshall, he just sort of felt like nothing would change if they were together... but he shouldn't be thinking about that at all. he didn't feel the same. that much was clear from the im conversation they'd had the previous day when leo had been flat-out spelling out that dale liked marshall (he still needed to murder him for that) and he hadn't seemed to respond to it at all. he couldn't deny that when marshall had said 'i love you', dale had flipped the fuck out. he didn't even mean it in that way, but it'd fucking killed him. for that entire conversation he was sort of dying. and horny at the same time. but mainly just butterflies. shitloads of butterflies. "i vote we go on mario kart and i'll be toad." he always had to call dibs on toad. everyone wanted toad. toad was the best. with toad, you were invincible, because you were just so damn cool.
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MARSHALL MATHIAS - April 11, 2012 06:08 AM (GMT)
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<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Wire+One|Open+Sans+Condensed:300' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<div style="width: 430px; border-left: 25px solid #DD5A45;"><div style="border-left: 10px solid #EBCD96;">

<div style="font-size: 42px; font-family: 'wire one', sans-serif; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align: center; color: #341D0A; line-height: 60%; padding-top: 10px;">i'm running on empty, i'm just so tired</div>

<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure what I'm looking for
I'm a voice on a phone that you rarely answer anymore
I came in here alone
Came in here alone
But that doesn't scare me like it did seven months ago
I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure where home is anymore

Been on a steady fast food diet
Like we're this generation's Morgan Spurlock
But we don't admit defeat
My body feels rejected and I can't say that I blame it
My heart keeps saying stay young
My lower back seems to disagree
I unrolled a cheap cotton blanket on an old dirty couch
I felt the year start to wind down
I can't stand any dead space
Empty beds bum me out
</div></div>

user posted image


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marshall really liked animals. especially cats. he'd always had a lot of cats when he was a kid, and just pets in general. but since being on tour, he didn't really bother with bringing or buying pets. it seemed like everyone had some kind of animal, and they were always causing some kind of trouble and marshall wasn't really into dealing with more than he was forced to. he wasn't lazy, but he was always afraid of messing things up, so he figured the best thing to do was always to quit while he was ahead, because that was just easier anyway. he was never going to understand why dale was so freaked out by cats. maybe it was something in his past or whatever. when marshall had asked he'd only got a half assed answer but he was pretty sure that was just how dale responded to any kind of question. maybe he just had no reason to hate cats. marshall figured that was the reality, and he decided to let it go because once again, dealing with that was a lot more trouble than it was worth. yes, i was sitting out here because of the fucking cat! it was going to kill me! why did you just open the door without warning?!" marshall looked back behind him at dale. he was clutching his heart dramatically, and looked a little bit pissed off. in marshall's opinion, it was positively adorable. but of course he wasn't going to tell anyone that. especially not dale. he tossed his cigarette to the ground even though it was only half way finished, and shot dale a smirk over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised. up. it's just a cat... okay okay sorry, i didn't know that there was an emergency, you could have said something, damn marshall knew perfectly well that he hadn't really given any time for dale to say anything, but that wasn't the point, marshall was just messing with him. "i'm gonna play! just needed a pick-me-up." marshall strained his neck to see to the front of the bus, and watched as dale pulled out a pint of whiskey and took a swig. marshall rolled his eyes, and sat back on the couch. dale its not even like four o'clock. and that's mine! you didn't even ask, come on, you better be sharing that –
<br><br>
marshall pouted a little bit and wiggled around to reach into the back pocket of his pants to pull out his droid. so okay, it was like almost five, and that was technically when happy hour started. but whatever, he had to seem a little bit responsible, and keep up the act that he had his shit together. in reality, marshall wished he could get as drunk as dale all the time – his need to being professional was always way too much to be piled under his desire to get drunk. and to hook up with dale. but that was a whole different story. maybe today would be different. maybe he could just like... let loose for a little while because it was killing him to be uptight all the time. he'd even only smoke weed when he was alone, and all the work was done, and he was just going to sleep. he hated having potential work looming over his head when he was fucked up. it was at that moment that dale pretty much pounced on marshall. he let out a noise as the wind was slightly knocked from his lungs, then laughed a little bit because the sad thing was, he was used to dale being overly touchy with him. the only other person he'd met like that was brighton, and that was totally different because he knew that brighton was relatively straight and he wasn't being serious (or at least not serious enough for marshall to even consider it being really realistic). oof. hey buddy, this is cute. miss me or something? marshall wrapped his arms around dale's waist in return. they'd hugged before, and each time marshall had made note of how wrong it was to take that much pleasure when hugging someone who you weren't supposed to have a thing for. but fuck, did he like hugging him.
<br><br>
marshall tried not to twitch.  "the lack of hugging was making my penis feel lonely." fucking dale, always saying suggestive things that would better belong in a bad porno. the problem was, the sick, horny part of marshall enjoyed it, if only just a little bit. and the part of him that was a flirt wanted to dish it right back, but something made him bite his tongue. i'm sure you could find someone to take care of that for you. i have faith in that. he said it with a smile, and he was a little bit glad that dale had taken it on himself to remove his arms. but obviously dale had to take it one step further and stick his head in marshall lap. he bit his lip, and looked up at the ceiling, containing himself and keeping his mouth shut so he wouldn't say anything. he wanted to say a few things, and all of them were contradicting in some way. part of him wanted to say “dale you're a twat” maybe “dale get away from my junk” or “dale you are a crazy motherfucker”. the other part? well. “dale, can we please.” and “dale, unzip my pants” and “dale, i really like you, but i don't like that you sleep around so i wouldn't want to be in a relationship” maybe that was the real reason that marshall was so iffy about admitting to liking dale. marshall wasn't a pussy, but he wasn't about to set himself up for something that he knew was going to hurt him. hey, gimmie some of that. he didn't really know what was coming over him, but he was leaning down to pick up the whiskey, distinctly aware that as he did so his upper stomach and chest were pressing into dale's face. he straightened quickly and took a draw from the bottle, and winced slightly at the burn. usually, marshall hated drinking, but it wasn't so bad right now. well, it was bad... his throat tightened, and he felt like coughing but he kept it together.
<br><br>
all the games were sitting on top of the xbox and so far away. he let out a little sigh in annoyance in disappointment that he'd have to get up, but oh well. "are you gonna choose a shitty game? because i can't handle that, chip." he used both his hands to shift dale's head off his lap, then got up, smirking a little. oh, you mean like final fantasy? no way. don't worry, i'd never let you suffer through that, i care too much about you-....your sanity. that shit's way too intense. obviously it wasn't, but the sarcasm leveled about the fact that he was about to say that he cared about dale. which wasn't a lie, just... not something he was sure he was ready to admit.  "i vote we go on mario kart and i'll be toad." marshall laughed and pulled out mario kart 8 and slid it into the disk tray. what's so great about toad? i like peach myself... she's a pretty princess. he said back down on the couch, this time taking the liberty to setting his butt close to dale. he handed him a controller then with one hand, he clicked around the menu screen and with the other he reached down to grab more of the whiskey. you're ass is going to get handed to you, hun. what have you been doing all day? besides hiding from cats, of course. he took a swig then passed it to dale, glancing over at him quickly before looking back at the screen. oh yeah, and obviously missing me, based on how 'lonely' you penis is. my penis might be lonely too, ever think about that? he wiggled his eyebrows, without looking over at dale.

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<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">TAGGED FOR WILLOW / DALE, IT'S ------ 1366 WORDS, AND THE LYRICS ARE FROM CAME OUT SWINGING BY THE WONDER YEARS. CODED BY ME C=</div></div>

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DALE CASH - April 11, 2012 04:33 PM (GMT)
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 400px; background-color: DBDBDB; border:8px solid #E4E4E4; padding-bottom: 9px; padding-top: 5px;"> <div style= "width: background-color: 664B43; 400px; padding-top: 8px; ">

<div style="height:270px; width:375px; background-image:url('http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif'); background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #dbdbdb, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif);
-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0))); "></div>


<div style="width:375px; text-align:center; font-family: garamond; font-size:28px; text-transform:lowercase; letter-spacing:2px; line-height: 70%; color:#B5B9B8; text-shadow:#f6f6f6 1px 0px 0px; margin-top:15px;"><i>so please be all mine</i></div>


<div style="width: 365px; background-color: f3f3f3; opacity: .5; filter: alpha(opacity=50);">
<div style="width: 360px; text-align: justify; color: 3F3F3F; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 170%;">

<div style="text-align: center; color: 111111; overflow: hidden; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8.5px; padding-bottom:2px; padding-top:5px; letter-spacing: 2px; opacity: .3; filter: alpha(opacity=30);">1189 words. marshall. (:. </div>

why had dale broken off their hug? honestly, why. it had been such a nice hug. he loved hugging marshall so much. he just had the perfect body, toned to exactly the right amount. well, he couldn't get the hug back now. that'd be the last one of the night. it's not like they'd be watching a movie, so dale couldn't snuggle against him. damn, he should've recommended a horror or something. or a romance. a romance that involved a lot of sex.... porn. that'd get marshall in the mood! he did feel a little rejected at the fact marshall had just suggested he'd find somebody else to take care of the loneliness of his penis. he didn't want somebody else to. he'd give up sex with literally everyone just for marshall, because nobody was better than marshall. why would he need variation? that'd be like having the choice of chocolate or celery and always choosing celery. no person in their rightful mind would ever choose celery over chocolate. all dale ever got was fucking celery. not once had he tasted the chocolate. he hadn't even had a nibble on the end. maybe that was a good thing. he'd probably want even more if they did it once. aaand then marshall's chest was right in dale's face. he was unbelievably tempted to lick it or something. why did he have to wear such sexy clothes? seriously, what did he expect dale to do with that much chest showing? it was over before it had really started, and dale wasn't even in his lap anymore. he sat up straight, longing for that touch again.
<p>
he glared at marshall for the final fantasy insult. he wouldn't stand for that. final fantasy was fucking perfect. he was quite potentially in love with hope, even though he was the biggest pussy ever to be known by mankind. hope was literally just how dale was a few years ago though, except more needy. he'd describe himself as more of a cross between hope and lightning, because lightning didn't seem to want to talk to people ever, and she was a bit of an ass. now, he'd completely changed. now, he was vanille, no doubt about it. she was always perky and hyper. still, even though his favourite thing in the world had just been insulted, he didn't really react. he chose to respond to the question relating to toad. <b>"well, he's a mushroom? who the fuck wouldn't want to be the mushroom? cartoon mushrooms have always been my favourite thing in the world. of course, you'd like peach because she's so pink."</b> he rolled his eyes and chuckled a bit. marshall was just such a stereotypical gay sometimes...
<p>
<b>"babe, no. i'm going to win this. i win everything."</b> he was already getting his game face on as best he could. if he couldn't have sex with marshall, he'd just have to beat his ass (in a non-sexual and entirely virtual way). he could see that the sex wasn't happening. it never had before, and dale really did try hard. now was no different. except marshall was actually drinking, which he never seemed to. he hadn't even thought that the whiskey might've been marshall's because he so rarely caught him drinking. or perhaps he had been drinking, but without dale... with somebody else. a man. <b>"i spent the majority of my morning on final fantasy, then smacked justin and selena for a while, and that's when i got attacked by a crazy pussy."</b> no pun intended. <b>"what about you? probably working hard and doing boring shit? it must suck being manager. you have to do shit. you can't be a dickhead 24/7 and spend your life wasted."</b> he looked at the bottle of whiskey, hoping marshall would drink more just so that he'd lighten up for once and maybe have fun. he definitely deserved to have fun - he never even got a 'thank you' from anyone in the band for what he did, especially not dale.
<p>
<i>"my penis might be lonely too, ever think about that?"</i> he blinked several times, keeping his focus on the tv screen. in his mind he was running around the room, screaming and removing his clothes. had marshall actually meant what he'd just said? was dale just reading too much into it? he didn't mean that at all, did he? maybe he meant he was as horny as dale always was, and just wanted sex with anyone. this didn't necessarily mean him. that aside, he was probably joking anyway. what was the likelihood that he'd actually return dale's feelings? dale had thought he'd seen an eyebrow wiggle in there, which implied he wanted dale, but to be honest that was probably in his imagination. still, he felt like there was this weird force between the two of them that was trying to pule dale closer to him, but he was resisting. they were sitting pretty close together, but not close enough. close enough might possibly be when they're naked together connected by the penis, but even then that seemed too far. it took a while for dale to think about how he'd respond to what marshall had just said. he could either make a fool out of himself and take it seriously, or just be a horny prick like usual and act as though he was messing around.
<p>
<b>"you can't complain about that. i've made it quite clear that mine's always here for you if you ever need it."</b> he smirked, but in reality he was being deadly serious and wanted him to get it out right there and then. he steered toad around corners, not even giving a shit that he was losing right now. he was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the game. he took a few long gulps from the whiskey that he'd been handed, thanking the lord that he was starting to feel a familiar dizziness now. <b>"like right now, if you wanted mr penis, you could have him."</b> that was probably too far, but dale took everything too far. boundaries didn't exist to him. <b>"i highly recommend it. i've been told he's great at what he does."</b> he felt like jay, talking about his dick as if it was a person. before too long he'd be naming it some random mexican name. or perhaps not mexican, because he wasn't half-mexican like jay. he was boring and american. he'd think of some american name. did americans even have names? fuck, he was confusing himself now. best to stop thinking, and not to talk. god, if anyone could hear his thoughts they'd think he was such an idiot...
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MARSHALL MATHIAS - April 11, 2012 08:44 PM (GMT)
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<div style="font-size: 42px; font-family: 'wire one', sans-serif; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align: center; color: #341D0A; line-height: 60%; padding-top: 10px;">i'm running on empty, i'm just so tired</div>

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I'm a voice on a phone that you rarely answer anymore
I came in here alone
Came in here alone
But that doesn't scare me like it did seven months ago
I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure where home is anymore

Been on a steady fast food diet
Like we're this generation's Morgan Spurlock
But we don't admit defeat
My body feels rejected and I can't say that I blame it
My heart keeps saying stay young
My lower back seems to disagree
I unrolled a cheap cotton blanket on an old dirty couch
I felt the year start to wind down
I can't stand any dead space
Empty beds bum me out
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as serious as marshall was about his videogames, he was also incredibly picky when it came down to what he would and would not play, especially when he in such had to play in such crunched time like he did while they were always on the road. when it came to games, there was only a few that he would even think about playing: red dead redemption (but only because the thought of cowboys was sexy. the game itself was kind of boring) assassin’s creed 2 (because who didn't love being a knight scaling fucking towers and shit) modern warfare 3 (because whenever he played anyone he kicked their ass 10x as much as they would ever expect) and fallout 3 (because it was just cool and something he liked to do to make his mind work when he wasn't in the mood for being brainless). obviously, those were all the games that he'd brought on the road with him, and then there were the games that dale had, like final fantasy and mario kart. mario kart was great, though marshall preferred the one for the n64. but he was going to draw the line at ff. a big fat line that you couldn't even see across. partly because it annoyed the hell out of dale and it was cute to watch him fume, and partly just because he'd already beat the game like 7 times and he was tired of it. yes, marshall was a geek, and it was true that in his high school like he really needed a life, and he needed to spend a lot more time outdoors. but whatever, he'd turned out alright in the end."well, he's a mushroom? who the fuck wouldn't want to be the mushroom? cartoon mushrooms have always been my favourite thing in the world. of course, you'd like peach because she's so pink." marshall rolled his eyes a little bit but couldn't help but smile. “obviously. mushrooms are like the best right, because what they fungi sticking up from the ground killing everything around them? great.” he balked a little bit then narrowed his eyebrows with a small smile. peach doesn't always have to be pink, hun. super smash you can change her colors. but hey, i'm a sucker for a pink lady. which was true. he loved pink. and nicki minaj.
<br><br>
sometimes marshall's gay shined through more than other times. he liked to keep it mostly on the down low, however. not because he was embarrassed of it, but just because he didn't really feel the need to go full on faggot when he was around people he didn't really know. he wasn't one of those gays who were like OMG I'M GAY AND YOU SHOULD ALL BE GAY AND GAY IS THE WAY. Kind of like damian. he was just like, yeah, i'm gay, oh em gee nicki minaj, lady gaga, penis and man nipples i love that. that was the easy way to be, and in the end no one really suspected anything. he figured that life was a lot easier when you didn't run around labeling people in a sexuality, just like you shouldn't run around labeling people in a specific race. obviously he was one of the only one's who shared that opinion though. so oh well, maybe someday. "babe, no. i'm going to win this. i win everything."  marshall giggled at that. that's right, giggled. another one of his feminine traits that he only let shine through with the band and some of his close friends on the tour. dale had really just said babe, too. which was funny to marshall, because no matter how much dale talked about penis all the time, he was always having difficulty thinking of dale as gay. maybe, because he wasn't. and maybe that was just because marshall had never met anyone who liked both girls and guys, and it was strange to him that it even could happen. at least, from his own point of view he didn't understand the appeal of woman whatsoever and maybe that was just what was blocking his understanding. yeah okay, we'll see about that. do you remember the last time we played this game? i fucked you right up the ass and you know it. yes, marshall was aware of the double meaning in his words, and he was only slightly upset that he'd let it come out of his mouth.
<br><br>
marshall liked sex as much as the next guy. in fact, in his more ~youthful days he'd been rather slutty and horny and incredibly satisfied with his sex life. he'd spent the last year of his high school career bar hopping with his fag hag best friend and the fake ids her brother had snagged for him. gay bars and dancing were like his calling, and that was when he realized how easy it was to pick up dudes. but now that he'd grown up a little, he'd gotten past that bang everything in sight stage. he was twenty five years old, for fucks sake. he couldn't act like that forever. he figured that people thought that his lack of enthusiasm to talking about sex meant that he was a prude that never wanted to get laid, but that just wasn't true. in reality he just kind of wanted the sex to mean something. sure, he'd make out and grope and be groped and that was fine, but that was where he'd draw the line. of course, this line was a lot thinner than his video game line, but whatever. the thing that freaked him out about dale, was that he knew that dale wouldn't be his “one and only” well, it was more accurate to say that he wouldn't be dale's one and only, when under normal circumstances would be fine. he liked dale enough that'd he'd hook up with him in a heartbeat. that is, if they weren't living on the same bus and if marshall's job didn't hang in the bowels of next in line's decisions. what the fuck would happen if there was suddenly tension between the whole band just because marshall and dale had fooled around and it ended badly. marshall hated emotion attachment that brought other people into the loop.
<br><br>
marshall gasped, dramatically. how could you ever say such a thing about selena, she's a doll, what has she ever done to you?! whatever, i'm disappointed. but i actually haven't done anything today. i sat around with damian for a while gossiping about you crazy band kids, but that's about it. they hadn't actually been gossiping. they'd talked about nothing important except for attractive celebrities and the trials of getting old. "you can't complain about that. i've made it quite clear that mine's always here for you if you ever need it."  that was like, totally an understatement. the fact of the matter was, dale was constantly whipping around the concept of his penis in marshall's butt or whatever, which made him incredibly uncomfortable mostly because the old marshall would be like O RLY, SHOW ME~ and the new marshall just kind of didn't know how to handle it. he wished he was 18 again. or maybe even 21. for fucks sake his life sucked . "i highly recommend it. i've been told he's great at what he does." i bet it is. he muttered softly, then instantly regretted it. he didn't look away from the screen but he bit the inside of his lip to keep his heart rate down. he was pretty sure that dale wasn't lying. he bet it was good at what it did. he could feel the tension building inside him, and he reached down to fumble with the bottle of whiskey and took long draws then held in a gag. god, it tasted awful but he could already start to feel the tickle in his stomach that said it was working, and doing what it was supposed to. so how come you're always running around trying to fuck everyone? i bet... he paused for a moment and his hands were beginning to shake as he took a turn too wide and shot into the water. fucking balls... no, i bet... i used to be a fucking crazy bitch haha. like when i was in high school and stuff, i bet i've had more sex than you. why the fuck had he just said that. why. the. fuck. are you top or bottom when you do it with guys. since you're so bi sexual, and all that he said the word bisexual with a hint of sarcasm. no you're just full on gay, aren't you. it's okay, we can be faggots together. he turned quickly and smiled coyly before going back to the game. goddamn alcohol making him all daring and shit. it was like he couldn't stop talking.


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<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">TAGGED FOR WILLOW / DALE, IT'S ------ 1488 WORDS, AND THE LYRICS ARE FROM CAME OUT SWINGING BY THE WONDER YEARS. CODED BY ME C=</div></div>

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DALE CASH - April 11, 2012 09:35 PM (GMT)
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 400px; background-color: DBDBDB; border:8px solid #E4E4E4; padding-bottom: 9px; padding-top: 5px;"> <div style= "width: background-color: 664B43; 400px; padding-top: 8px; ">

<div style="height:270px; width:375px; background-image:url('http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif'); background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #dbdbdb, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif);
-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0))); "></div>


<div style="width:375px; text-align:center; font-family: garamond; font-size:28px; text-transform:lowercase; letter-spacing:2px; line-height: 70%; color:#B5B9B8; text-shadow:#f6f6f6 1px 0px 0px; margin-top:15px;"><i>so please be all mine</i></div>


<div style="width: 365px; background-color: f3f3f3; opacity: .5; filter: alpha(opacity=50);">
<div style="width: 360px; text-align: justify; color: 3F3F3F; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 170%;">

<div style="text-align: center; color: 111111; overflow: hidden; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8.5px; padding-bottom:2px; padding-top:5px; letter-spacing: 2px; opacity: .3; filter: alpha(opacity=30);">1228 words. marshall. (:. </div>

<b>"chip, stop trying to prove me wrong. toad is the best, peach is not. peach comes in number two."</b> he'd accepted his defeat with final fantasy, but he would not back down from this one. toad was perfect. he was in one of those moods where opinions weren't valid unless they agreed with all of his own. always a great mood to be in... <b>"he is invincible, and peach will face her defeat pretty fucking soon."</b> marshall was actually better at him at videogames. dale was used to being the best because he was such a nerd, but marshall was nerdier when it came to the xbox. dale loved final fantasy, but rather than spending his time on halo and skyrim, he'd spend the rest of his time watching vampire knight and reading manga. he even tried to teach himself how to read japanese at one point but failed miserably, no surprise. in his life, dale seemed to fail everything pretty miserably. the only semi-successful thing was his band, and he was pretty sure that that was just down to luck and the rest of the members. he needed other people to thrive and blossom.
<p>
<i>"yeah okay, we'll see about that. do you remember the last time we played this game? i fucked you right up the ass and you know it."</i> dale raised his eyebrows. he was supposed to be the one with all the double-meanings and sexual hints. he was the one that wanted in marshall's pants so fucking bad he'd probably trade his entire drum kit for it. marshall didn't talk like this. but dale liked it. it was out-of-place, and made him feel uncomfortable, and he could feel a wall of tension between them. <b>"i think i'd remember you fucking me up the ass, chip. how about we refresh my memory now?"</b> an unlikely event, but this was just a repetition of every day since they'd got on tour. in fact, he'd been like this before they got on tour, it just seemed to have heightened now that they were constantly surrounded by people and hormones.
<p>
<i>"so how come you're always running around trying to fuck everyone? i bet..."</i> dale was sort of surprised that marshall had just asked him that. he wasn't sure if he wanted to answer it. it wasn't like he was always running around trying to fuck everyone, it was just that he likes sex a lot, and he liked to joke about it a lot. did him asking that mean he actually cared? or did it mean that he didn't approve of it? to be honest, everyone was right when they said he was still pretty high school. dale had missed out on his high school years because he was such a fucking idiot, and he'd decided at some point that he'd experience all of that again. essentially, he was now trying to be a six-year-old, a sixteen-year-old, and a twenty-six-year-old all at the same time, and the result wasn't all that pleasing. dale didn't think of it as a problem at all. the only problem was that everybody else thought there was something wrong with the way he behaved; he ignored those people anyway - they should mind their own business.
<p>
maybe dale would've come up with some sort of response for his question, but marshall had fallen into the water and seemed distracted, and he was talking again. <i>"fucking balls... no, i bet... i used to be a fucking crazy bitch haha. like when i was in high school and stuff, i bet i've had more sex than you."</i> who was acting like they were in high school now? dale didn't really care how many people he'd fucked, all he wanted was to be one of those people. dale could safely conclude that marshall was now tipsy, or something. he had no idea how much alcohol it took to get him drunk. anyway, he couldn't just get him drunk and fuck him, he'd just be hated in the morning. still, would dale even be able to resist? it was so tempting, and dale was definitely not used to resisting that kind of thing. <b>"i pretend i'm still in high school, because i never really experienced high school. maybe you should try it too. that's why i always 'try to fuck everyone'."</b> he was smiling, but if it wasn't for the way his head was swimming, he might've actually been a little annoyed by the questions. <b>"just saying though, i don't actually fuck half of those people, it's just a joke."</b>
<p>
<i>"are you top or bottom when you do it with guys. since you're so bi sexual, and all that"</i> was he taking the piss out of his sexuality now? he didn't really understand marshall. he didn't seem to believe that bisexuality existed. it just happened that dale was attracted to guy and girls. he was pretty sure that everybody was deep down. he didn't know whether or not he should answer that question. no, no actually he did. he should definitely answer the question. his little friend 'whiskey' had answered that for him. <b>"i like top. but if you like top, then i like bottom."</b> dale bit the inside of his lip slightly. now he was acting shy for some reason. fuck, it was the alcohol and the way marshall made him feel so light-headed and hot. he had to stop being shy. shy got you nowhere. shy meant regrets. <i>"no you're just full on gay, aren't you. it's okay, we can be faggots together."</i>
<p>
dale was almost at the finish line now, and he was about to win, but he just didn't care now. it was the smile that did it. marshall hadn't looked away from the screen yet, but now he was. dale looked at the same time, and met his eyes. he refused to let go of the gaze. if the gaze was to break, marshall would be the one to break it. <b>"i'm bisexual, you prick."</b> he smirked at him and set his remote down behind him, discarding his virtual cart. <b>"but right now, i'm about 99.9% gay."</b> he couldn't help himself. he'd placed a hand on marshall's neck and ran it down his chest until it found the top of his shirt, where he started to fiddle with it. shit, he was so hot. he moved automatically closer to him so that they were about five centimeters apart, looking longingly down at marshall's lips and thinking about how good they would taste. his were the only lips he really wanted, but he felt as though he couldn't have them. he was just waiting for the shove back in the other direction and to be told that he had seriously fucked up this time and that he and marshall couldn't hang out anymore.
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<div style="width: 320px; text-align: center; color: 272727; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8.5px; letter-spacing:2; overflow: hidden; margin-top:7px; text-transform: lowercase; opacity: .2; filter: alpha(opacity=20);">brought to you by <a href="http://z10.invisionfree.com/CAUTIONTOTHEWIND/index.php?showuser=3555">stalkmeredneck</a> of caution 2.0 </div>
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MARSHALL MATHIAS - April 12, 2012 12:40 AM (GMT)
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<div style="font-size: 42px; font-family: 'wire one', sans-serif; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align: center; color: #341D0A; line-height: 60%; padding-top: 10px;">i'm running on empty, i'm just so tired</div>

<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure what I'm looking for
I'm a voice on a phone that you rarely answer anymore
I came in here alone
Came in here alone
But that doesn't scare me like it did seven months ago
I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure where home is anymore

Been on a steady fast food diet
Like we're this generation's Morgan Spurlock
But we don't admit defeat
My body feels rejected and I can't say that I blame it
My heart keeps saying stay young
My lower back seems to disagree
I unrolled a cheap cotton blanket on an old dirty couch
I felt the year start to wind down
I can't stand any dead space
Empty beds bum me out
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user posted image


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marshall was good at acting like he didn't care about shit. if he were to describe himself, he'd say that he had iron emotions. but that wasn't really true – what it really was, was he had a tremendous poker face. it was really easy for him to lie and make people think that he was tougher than he was. he wasn't tough, at all. he was a little mush ball who cared a lot about what people thought of him, and always trying to impress people. it was sad, because it was what he'd grown up with. his parents were losers, hated that he was gay and basically let him get bullied, and tried to pay him into being straight. he'd come to learn that it was easy to just... be tough and act like you don't care because that just makes everyone else not care. he had to do that. besides the style, that was part of the reason he had so many tattoos and his ears were so stretched. it gave him the look that he didn't give a fuck and that he was heartless and all that bullshit. most people thought he was like that, after all. and then they got to know him, and realized that he was a huge softy who cared too much about his friends and even about the people who weren't his friends. marshall could be mean sometimes, but only in defense of someone he really cared about. like, leonard for example, who he didn't dislike exactly, but he didn't really like him that much either because he acted like a child, and flirted with dale way too much for marshalls comfort. jealous? yes, fine, marshall was jealous. marshall was jealous of everything dale did. "he is invincible, and peach will face her defeat pretty fucking soon."  there was something else that marshall liked about dale: the fact that he was always willing to be competitive. marshall liked competion, mostly because he liked to win, but also because it made life a lot less boring. kind of like playing hard to get, which was what he'd been doing with dale pretty much since they'd met.
<br><br>
maybe though, he was playing too hard. marshall couldn't tell if dale knew that he liked him, or if he took everything marshall said seriously. he figured that they'd been friends long enough that he'd realize that marshall was just stubborn and full of shit all the time and focused on his job, but whatever, maybe he wasn't giving the right amount of hints. wait though... he didn't want to give hints. he didn't want to hook up with dale! well, his crotch wanted to hook up with dale, but his brain thought it was a bad idea. because it was. a very horrible, but tempting idea. "i think i'd remember you fucking me up the ass, chip. how about we refresh my memory now?" marshall couldn't tell if the heat rising up his body was from the shots he'd just taken straight to the face, or if it was because the idea of fucking dale in the ass was just so temping. he couldn't be bothered to find out so he cleared his throat instead, and worried his bottom lip with his top teeth. “yeah, you'd like that huh. no if you don't focus on the game then the memory will be refreshed ” he tried not to make it sound dirty, but the words wouldn't form sarcastically the way he'd meant them too, so he probably sent out the wrong message and made everything a whole lot worse. that's what marshall was good at. making everything worse and failing at having a social life, pretty much. marshall never said the wrong thing, especially when he was around the guys in the band. he wanted to be like a figure that they could be buddies with and pal around, but also look up to and like, you know, like and respect. marshall wasn't a yuppy but he did enjoy knowing that he was appreciated. keegan was good at that, other than dale, keegan was probably one of his best friends. brooklyn too, but then she was a whole different story because she didn't really have to answer to him anyway, and they could just have girl time and fun time and not talk about work because she wasn't so much a part of who he had to look after.
<br><br>
"i pretend i'm still in high school, because i never really experienced high school. maybe you should try it too. that's why i always 'try to fuck everyone'." marshall suddenly felt a little guilty for being so forward with what he'd said. he hadn't meant to like bring up any sore subjects or anything, and by the words dale had said he couldn't even decipher if it was or not. high school was different for everyone, he figured, and why marshall had had a tough time in the beginning he was glad because it got him to where he was now, more or less. he'd lived out his high school years and he was definitely not ready to go back, and he honestly didn't understand anyone who did. the thing about dale was that since he was constantly fooling around and being a kid, marshall admired that he was still able to be so thoughtless and carefree when he was just stuck in his world of order and work. if marshall was glad of one thing, it was that he'd dropped out of college to be the full time manager. there was no way, now that he'd thought about it, that he'd be able to be away from these guys for too long. there were the first real full time friends that he'd had since... well forever, really. sorry, i wasn't like trying to be an asshole about it or anything. i was just like, you know wondering and like hun, i think it's funny, did marshall think it was funny? kind of. but most of the time it just made him jealous.
<br><br>

as peach was lifted back onto the track from where she'd fucking bombed into the water, marshall reached down and picked up the whiskey and inspected it. there wasn't a lot left, seeing as the bottle hadn't been very big. he felt compelled to smell it. so he did, then made a face and took a tiny sip and gave it back to dale so he could kill the rest of it.  "just saying though, i don't actually fuck half of those people, it's just a joke." he wasn't really sure how he felt about that. he knew that it was something supposed to be comforting, but at the same time it kind of made him squirm. his face was starting to tingle a little bit and his head was incredibly drunk. oh, well, okay. i mean i don't have a problem with it oh hahahahah that was a fat lie. i don't know. nevermind. it doesn't, i mean it does but it shouldn't. honey, i don't care what you do, i mean it's your life right. maybe one day, it could be like, plural. no that was just stupid thinking. dale didn't want a relationship, right? and neither did marshall. but like, yeah, he kind of did. like, if anything at all was going to happen between them, then marshall would want to be able to hold his hand after. and stuff. marshall had never had a boyfriend before, and in his twenty five years of life he hadn't really felt the need for one. but there was something about dale that made him want to... calm him down? he wanted to feel special with him, and he wanted to feel like he mattered because sometimes marshall felt like in dale's world, no one really mattered. why did marshall care, anyway?  "but right now, i'm about 99.9% gay."  marshall froze, and as a result peach slipped on a banana peel and spun out right before the finish line, passing toad who'd just stopped moving. dale had put down his controller, and was still looking at him. the smile slowly slipped off marshall's face, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from dale's gaze. dale's hand was warm as it trailed down marshall's chest and fiddled with the neck of his low v-neck. they were sitting right next to each other, their hips touching but marshall's body was still facing the tv even though his head was turned towards dale. he followed dale's eyes down, and he was literally unable to move one second, and then a split second later he was throwing everything he knew to the wind.
<br><br>
he reached his hand up and used his fingers to tilt dale's chin up towards him, and closed the gap between their mouths in one motion and an exhale of breath through his nose in almost relief. he closed his eyes and felt everything start spinning around him but he couldn't stop his lips from trying to move in unison with dale's. it was like he was finally getting what he wanted, and it was like he was finally letting loose. but shit. this was bad. oh what the fuck ever. he moved his hand from dale's chin to his cheek. he dropped the controller with his other hand and turned his body so he could hold on tight to dale's him. he could feel his breath hitching and the urge to moan over took him but he held it inside for as long as he could. this was just so bad. he pulled away, but slowly, because it didn't really want to. he looked down briefly, and shifted his weight because his pants were growing increasing ly tighter. so i didn't think i would ever like, say this, but i like you dale. like, actually.


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<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">TAGGED FOR WILLOW / DALE, IT'S ------ 1638 WORDS, AND THE LYRICS ARE FROM CAME OUT SWINGING BY THE WONDER YEARS. CODED BY ME C=</div></div>

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DALE CASH - April 12, 2012 01:30 AM (GMT)
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 400px; background-color: DBDBDB; border:8px solid #E4E4E4; padding-bottom: 9px; padding-top: 5px;"> <div style= "width: background-color: 664B43; 400px; padding-top: 8px; ">

<div style="height:270px; width:375px; background-image:url('http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif'); background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #dbdbdb, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif);
-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0))); "></div>


<div style="width:375px; text-align:center; font-family: garamond; font-size:28px; text-transform:lowercase; letter-spacing:2px; line-height: 70%; color:#B5B9B8; text-shadow:#f6f6f6 1px 0px 0px; margin-top:15px;"><i>so please be all mine</i></div>


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<div style="width: 360px; text-align: justify; color: 3F3F3F; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 170%;">

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<i>"yeah, you'd like that huh."</i> he had no idea how much dale would like that. shit, he'd love it. it would be the best thing ever to happen to him. the only thing about it that sort of scared dale was that it'd go wrong. if dale made a move and marshall rejected him... that wouldn't be a huge issue, but a mild issue. or if dale did something retarded, or if he did it wrong. there was so much that could ruin it. and what would happen afterwards? would they continue as friends, or would they start acting like a couple? if they wanted to be a couple, would one of them have to ask the other out? did they have to go on dates? who the fuck payed the bill in a gay relationship? or what if things fukced up completely and they couldn't even be friends afterwards. the effects of that would be horrible. he'd feel so bad, because he'd make keegan and alex feel awkward. but that wouldn't happen, right? marshall would never want him. maybe dale should try harder. sure, sexual jokes were sort of a big hint, but maybe he should just tell him. he could do something cute like write a song... if only he were good at writing songs. that would potentially be so awkward if marshall still rejected him, which was highly likely. dale decided not even to think about doing that. it'd be a shit song, there'd be nobody to sing it, and marshall would laugh in his face.
<p>
<i>"i don't know. nevermind. it doesn't, i mean it does but it shouldn't. honey, i don't care what you do, i mean it's your life right."</i> shit, he loved it when marshall called him 'honey'. 'hun' was impersonal, and everyone called everyone that. to be honest, everyone called everyone honey, but it still sounded a lot cuter. it made his stomach churn. he'd definitely said the wrong thing though. marshall seemed to think he was a offended. it wouldn't matter if he was, anyway. marshall could say anything to him and he wouldn't care. he had, actually. if anyone else insulted final fantasy they'd get the silent treatment for a week and would wake up with a pile of shit in their mouth. <b>"yeah. but still. i don't want all of those people. i just find it funny. i've asked leo to marry me a lot, but that isn't gonna happen. i'm just a bit of a twat."</b> what was he even clarifying for? he didn't seem to care at all. to be fair, that was true. sort of. if any of the people he asked to fuck showed any amount of interest, he'd be over in a shot, but most of them rejected him. he'd given leo a blowjob literally the day before because he'd agreed after much convincing. dale would do that with anyone, not just his closest friends. dale didn't notice princess peach hitting the banana peel and sliding off, but now the two characters were sitting stationary, and dale was staring at marshall. the game and everything around them completely disappeared, and they were sitting in a grey room, cut off from everything and in a different world.
<p>
dale couldn't pin down what emotions he felt as marshall actually responded to his touch. it was like everything was burning. he didn't think he'd ever felt that hot all at once. even his lips felt abnormally hot, and he was sure that the blood would find its way out of his pores at any moment. his heart literally jumped out of his chest, and he felt sure that marshall would be able to feel every beat. it was so sudden that he felt this way. he didn't think he'd ever been so turned on by just a kiss. he kept one hand on marshall's chest even though his arm was sort of getting in the way. that was the touch that had initiated it. he was scared beyond belief that if he let go of marshall's shirt, the kiss would be gone, and with it, marshall. he moved his other hand from by his side to lace his fingers through marshall's hair so that he couldn't pull too far away. his hair was so soft, and he felt so warm. how the hell he could feel heat when he was burning up this much himself, he had no idea. he imagined that this is what it felt like to be inside an oven for a few hours. their lips moved in time, and already dale wanted to whisk him away to one of the shitty bunks so that they could pull the curtain and have some privacy. there was the risk that somebody could walk in on them if they stayed where they were. dale would probably love that, because he'd been picturing this moment for so long, and somebody else would get to witness it. it would definitely kill the mood, however, so it'd be best not to stay put. he didn't want to ruin this moment. it was so unexpected, and so not how he had imagined it. it was better. dale pressed himself against marshall, not feeling at all thankful that he'd decided to put skinny jeans on that morning.
<p>
marshall pulled slowly away, and dale moved pathetically forward, not wanting it to end. was that it? he didn't want that to be it. he wanted the taste back, even though it was so polluted with whiskey. <i>"so i didn't think i would ever like, say this, but i like you dale. like, actually."</i> it was all dale could do to stare at him. he'd known that he'd had unusual feelings for marshall, but he'd never expected that marshall would even remotely like him in that way. he rejected dale so frequently... he never showed any signs of affection. he turned away and rolled his eyes whenever he saw dale naked, and most of what he said was verging on mean. dale leaned quickly forward again and kissed him softly. he wouldn't move much further away from him, he needed to stay close to him now before he slipped away again. <b>"how?"</b> he asked, although no sound really came out. this whole situation had surprised him, he just wasn't ready for it. <b>"i do too. more than i thought i could."</b> he just wanted to kissed marshall again for hours on end, but he couldn't. another kiss would be too much - marshall wouldn't want it. he let go of marshall's gaze that he'd been trying to hold and looked down at his chest. he was imagining things in his mind about marshall that he'd never thought he'd want to. they weren't sexual at all, they were just adorable. like a normal couple would. two people that liked each other... because marshall liked dale... somehow.
<p>
<b>"why didn't you tell me?"</b> asking another question could probably kill the mood. all he could hear in the background was mario music. they were on a dirty bus. dale had just been running from a cat, and he hadn't showered since playing his drums earlier so probably still smelt of sweat. it wasn't an ideal situation at all. there was nothing romantic about any of it, but it felt so natural and right. he wouldn't have had it any other way.
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<div style="width: 320px; text-align: center; color: 272727; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8.5px; letter-spacing:2; overflow: hidden; margin-top:7px; text-transform: lowercase; opacity: .2; filter: alpha(opacity=20);">brought to you by <a href="http://z10.invisionfree.com/CAUTIONTOTHEWIND/index.php?showuser=3555">stalkmeredneck</a> of caution 2.0 </div>
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MARSHALL MATHIAS - April 12, 2012 08:07 AM (GMT)
[dohtml]
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Wire+One|Open+Sans+Condensed:300' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<div style="width: 430px; border-left: 25px solid #DD5A45;"><div style="border-left: 10px solid #EBCD96;">

<div style="font-size: 42px; font-family: 'wire one', sans-serif; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align: center; color: #341D0A; line-height: 60%; padding-top: 10px;">i'm running on empty, i'm just so tired</div>

<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure what I'm looking for
I'm a voice on a phone that you rarely answer anymore
I came in here alone
Came in here alone
But that doesn't scare me like it did seven months ago
I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure where home is anymore

Been on a steady fast food diet
Like we're this generation's Morgan Spurlock
But we don't admit defeat
My body feels rejected and I can't say that I blame it
My heart keeps saying stay young
My lower back seems to disagree
I unrolled a cheap cotton blanket on an old dirty couch
I felt the year start to wind down
I can't stand any dead space
Empty beds bum me out
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user posted image


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 "yeah. but still. i don't want all of those people. i just find it funny. i've asked leo to marry me a lot, but that isn't gonna happen. i'm just a bit of a twat." marshall sighed a little bit, and bit his lip again. he wasn't really sure if it was funny, and he wasn't sure why dale thought that it could be funny. he knew that it was all in good fun and kidding around, but marshall just personal didn't really know how to tease without a little bit of meaning in it. he figured that dale did mean it a lot of the time. and yeah, marshall himself would admit that leonard was attractive. there were a lot of things about leo that marshall wished weren't the case – his looks, his innocence and the fact that he just ate everything dale said with no questions asked. marshall wasn't like that. he was constantly thinking about the consequences and wondering what to do and how to do it and what kind of shit was going to happen if things fucked up. but yeah, there was no way that marshall could disagree on the statement that dale was a twat. he didn't say anything, both because he didn't want to admit that it was what he was thinking, and because he wasn't really sure he was ready to make his vocal chords work yet. it wasn't offend that marshall wasn't able to speak. a lot of the time he chose not to, but hardly was it matter of him being completely incapable. he never thought of himself as someone who'd get jealous, especially of someone like leo but somehow dale made him upset, in that way that he just felt like he needed to be protective or else just not give a shit at all. protective was bad, and dale would probably be like “dude you're a fucking freak” and make him go away. then again, if he just didn't care then he would lose any chance that dale might like him more than just one of his fucks. he felt like a pussy for caring that that was the case in the first place, but whatever. he really didn't need extra drama in his life.
<br><br>
marshall had had a lot of kisses in his life, and there was something in this one that all the others had had as well. the extra push of alcohol that made every motion ten times easier, and the heat bubbling in his chest both from the drink but also from the hormones that automatically rushed through his body as the body contact lingered. the only difference was that this was dale. fucking dale cash of all people, someone he'd know for at least four years now. sometimes he couldn't really believe that he'd known dale for so long, or any of the guys, for that matter. dale had always been the one that made marshall laugh, but he was also the one that he took the least seriously, because he knew that if he did, then his feelings would have been crushed a lot time ago. the fact that dale had been hitting on him for as long as he had and marshall still hadn't gotten up the guts to just say something like “dale if you want to like go out with me or something then just say it” because marshall was stubborn and wouldn't ever put himself in a position to be let down. hell yeah, back then marshall would had fucked dale. in like, a heartbeat. but as soon as the band was signed, it was like things were changed. no matter how attractive and cute and funny and just ugh he thought dale was, he just couldn't do it now. if they were actually going to try to make the band work then they were going to have to take things seriously. more seriously then they had been before, anyway, and that meant no more games, things had to be business like. it was around then that he stopped giving a fucked about his crush on dale and just went about his dale and pretended he didn't care. because marshall was great at pretending he didn't care.
<br><br>
he felt tugging on his shirt and he laughed a little, looking down.  "how?" that seemed a little bit like an odd question in the scheme of things. wasn't there more important things to be discussing? ans what the hell did “how” even mean? marshall shrugged his shoulders only slightly, and thought about leaning in to kiss him some more. instead, the only thing he seemed to be able to do was let his hand run down dale's cheek and rest limply at his bony shoulder. he took a moment to actually look at his companion, and he was only a little bit surprised at how much he actually hadn't looked at dale in a long time. despite the almost twenty-four seven time span they were forced to spend together, there was no time when he'd really been this close to his face. it was a nice face, and marshall wished he'd taken the time to look at it before. it would have been worth it. "i do too. more than i thought i could." it was like this weird thing just falling into place. his heart was beating like he was twelve years old and the boy of his dreams had just like, asked him to prom. not really because dale was just kissing him, because that wasn't really a surprise (marshall wasn't stupid enough to expect rejection, with all the offers previously) but what was, was that dale was here still just sitting, and not trying to rip his clothes off and attack him. in all of marshall's thoughts where he had dale had started kissing, dale had immediately taken control and just gone all out. which wasn't bad, necessarily, but this was exceptionally nice. dale was a little bit more dominating, he thought. at least in his mind – dale was a little bit taller, and even though he was also skinny as fuck he fit the look of his age. he looked like a twenty-four year old, which marshall knew that with all his tattoos and his snake bite piercings, he still looked twenty-one, at the most.
<br><br>
"why didn't you tell me?" at that, marshall twitched, and pulled back a little, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before running his hand through his dark hair, feeling for the damage that dale's fingers had done. there was none. i just... i thought it would be weird, you know? and it is, right? like because i know you want to like get on my dick but i actually kind of like you. but it's whatever. he leaned in a little further brushed his lips lightly against dale's in the hint of a kiss before the diziness in his head told him to move on from that and do something different. he shifted again. he wasn't sure how he was supposed to uh... go about this. what ended up happening, because of the waves in marshall's clumsy little mind, he twisted around enough so that he was facing dale head on; he moved his feet from where they'd been flat on the ground, kicked off his vans, and situated himself that he was more of less kneeling on the couch next to dale. he couldn't decide if he wanted to straddle him or not. was that too much? probably not, not with dale anyway. but whatever. he was too careless and gone to even give a fuck anymore. it was over. the lack of physical contact between someone he actually liked a lot had taken a toll on marshall's self-restraint, causing him to press his lips to dale's cheek, and trail kisses down his neck where he stopped, then went back to dale's mouth. for fucks sake, marshall was just making a mess of this, wasn't he. this is going to sound really gay, he started, pulling away again. but i'm a little drunk. and i don't want this to be like, you know uh fucked up and shit later. but i mean it when i say i like you, like, but like. he couldn't stop fucking saying like. but like. does this matter? i mean, are you like okay? oh my god, someone's going to flip out.


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<div style="font-size: 42px; font-family: 'wire one', sans-serif; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align: center; color: #341D0A; line-height: 60%; padding-top: 10px;"></div>

<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">TAGGED FOR WILLOW / DALE, IT'S ------ 1425 WORDS, AND THE LYRICS ARE FROM CAME OUT SWINGING BY THE WONDER YEARS. SAY HELLO TO AWKWARD MARSHALL! SORRY HE'S SUCH A FUCKING RETARD, OMG.</div></div>

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DALE CASH - April 12, 2012 03:15 PM (GMT)
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<div style="height:270px; width:375px; background-image:url('http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif'); background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #dbdbdb, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif);
-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0))); "></div>


<div style="width:375px; text-align:center; font-family: garamond; font-size:28px; text-transform:lowercase; letter-spacing:2px; line-height: 70%; color:#B5B9B8; text-shadow:#f6f6f6 1px 0px 0px; margin-top:15px;"><i>so please be all mine</i></div>


<div style="width: 365px; background-color: f3f3f3; opacity: .5; filter: alpha(opacity=50);">
<div style="width: 360px; text-align: justify; color: 3F3F3F; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 170%;">

<div style="text-align: center; color: 111111; overflow: hidden; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8.5px; padding-bottom:2px; padding-top:5px; letter-spacing: 2px; opacity: .3; filter: alpha(opacity=30);">1215 words. marshall. (: </div>

<i>i just... i thought it would be weird, you know? and it is, right? like because i know you want to like get on my dick but i actually kind of like you. but it's whatever.</i> want to get on his dick? yeah, he was right, but did he think that was just what it was? did dale have to clarify exactly what he wanted out of marshall? he couldn't do that. definitely not. dale couldn't put things like that into words. he didn't even know why he'd ever told leo that he liked marshall, or how he'd even put that into words. telling him that was sort of a mistake, since now everyone knew, but whatever. he couldn't tell marshall how he felt. he couldn't tell him that every time dale saw him his heart started beating faster and he felt unworthy. he thought marshall was amazing on so many different levels. he wasn't perfect - nobody was perfect, but he was dale's perfect guy. it was actually his flaws that dale liked. his amazing looks were just a bonus. he wondered if marshall even knew what dale was like underneath. to be honest, nobody did. he was just this shy, insecure guy. even dale didn't know that was the real him. he tried so hard to bury everything that he could barely dig it up himself. all of the jokes, messing around and being a dick was just his act to cover up the fact that he actually cared about stuff, and a lot of the things people said actually hurt him. even things that haters he didn't even know said could get to him. <b>"yeah. it's whatever."</b> best if marshall didn't hear the full story just yet. he felt dumb for ever even letting out half of the story. then again, in about three minutes he'd probably change his mind again and spill his whole heart out to marshall...
<p>
dale leaned his head back as marshall started kissing his neck. holy shit, he loved it when people kissed his neck and collar bones. that as the biggest turn on ever. before he could stop himself, he let out a moan, but was sorely disappointed as marshall returned to his mouth. he should be moving south, not north. <i>"this is going to sound really gay, but i'm a little drunk. and i don't want this to be like, you know uh fucked up and shit later. but i mean it when i say i like you, like, but like... but like. does this matter? i mean, are you like okay? oh my god, someone's going to flip out."</i> he'd said like about one hundred times there. dale laughed. why the fuck was he laughing? it wasn't even as though it was a cute or attractive laugh. not like the way marshall giggled. that giggle was the cutest thing dale had heard. when he'd done it earlier, his stomach had flipped a bit. dale wasn't thinking straight, and his body was just sort of doing everything without consulting his mind. it took him a while to even process what marshall had said, let alone to realize it needed a response.
<p>
dale allowed himself to move from the spot he'd been glued to - marshall's lips. he hadn't wanted to leave them, but here he was. he was close to marshall's ear now, and whispered softly to him. <b>"chip... this isn't just sex."</b> not that it was even sex yet... maybe marshall didn't want that - maybe it was just a make out session. oh well, that was on the table now and he could take it or leave it. <b>"it's what i've been dreaming about for years."</b> it wasn't actually years. he'd only just realized how he felt for marshall. it was like, when they first met, marshall was hot. he wanted to fuck marshall then, just as he wanted to fuck most people he met. then time went by, and they were best friends. he'd always preferred marshall to everyone else, and he'd always felt sort of weird around him. when he was with everyone else he had no inhibitions; he didn't care if he offended them or if they wanted to stop talking to him forever. with marshall he'd always had the fear that he'd be rejected by him, or that marshall would hate him and he'd lose a best friend. a couple of months ago he'd sort of come to terms with what these feelings might be. he had never ever had a real crush on anyone like this. there had been people he'd been attracted to, and even people he'd considered dating, but that was always a turn-off for him. as soon as the word 'boyfriend' or 'girlfriend' was mentioned, he'd wrinkle his nose and feel a sudden hatred and disgust for that person. but not marshall. still, he didn't really want a label on them, either. what if it did ruin things? shit, he was scared. and shit, his thoughts were changing so much. he was thinking too much, too quick. shouldn't he just be fucking him?
<p>
dale pulled marshall quite suddenly and quite violently to him. he didn't really want these emotions. yes, perhaps he was feeling the first bursts of weak love, but they faded as fast as they came, right? this was just going to be sex - he told himself that over and over again. so why had their kiss felt so different? he had never ever experienced a kiss that had any meaning. it was weird, and so nice. he could just sit there on that couch and talk to marshall and kiss him and be perfectly happy. <b>"do you want it to matter, chip?"</b> he planted a few kisses along marshall's jaw line, and slid his hands down to fumble around with the button of marshall's pants. holy shit, was he about to do this with marshall? fuck, he wanted to so badly. he wanted it to last forever. things would be horrible afterwards. maybe. but then, maybe not. dale was usually calm like that. he wouldn't let it be awkward. he'd treat marshall exactly the same as he had before, and before he'd been close with him, and had always wanted to kiss him. nothing had to change. <b>"what do you want to be when we wake up tomorrow?"</b> he had to ask marshall that question, because he had no idea what he wanted to be. he guessed he'd just go along with whatever marshall said. he was the manager - he always told dale what to do. this would just be another instruction for him to follow. he managed to get marshall's button undone and pulled down the zip very slowly so that marshall had time to object if he wanted to. fuck, he could just see the rest of the band walking in right now.
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MARSHALL MATHIAS - April 12, 2012 11:24 PM (GMT)
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<div style="font-size: 42px; font-family: 'wire one', sans-serif; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align: center; color: #341D0A; line-height: 60%; padding-top: 10px;">i'm running on empty, i'm just so tired</div>

<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure what I'm looking for
I'm a voice on a phone that you rarely answer anymore
I came in here alone
Came in here alone
But that doesn't scare me like it did seven months ago
I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure where home is anymore

Been on a steady fast food diet
Like we're this generation's Morgan Spurlock
But we don't admit defeat
My body feels rejected and I can't say that I blame it
My heart keeps saying stay young
My lower back seems to disagree
I unrolled a cheap cotton blanket on an old dirty couch
I felt the year start to wind down
I can't stand any dead space
Empty beds bum me out
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marshall wasn't used to dale not talking a lot. most of the time he kind of relied on him to say a bunch of stuff and make their conversations easier. marshall wasn't bad at talking, but a lot of the time he was just kind at a loss for small talk, and dale was good at keeping conversations easy enough that he didn't even need to worry about it. this was the kind of thing that freaked him out about what could happen between he and dale. what if everything was awkward and they couldn't be friends the way they had been before. there was no way that marshall would be able to change the way he treated dale. he hated pda and obviously dale loved it so that was another factor that he didn't know how he was going to deal with it. he didn't want to make dale mad by rejecting him 24/7 because in reality rejecting was the last thing he was going to want to do with dale.  "yeah. it's whatever."  it killed him that that was all dale had to say at the moment. he was frustrated and sad and his heart was beating way too fast. god, what if he started like sweating and outwardly freaking out? god that would be embarrassing. marshall was really bad at dealing with embarrassment without getting defensive. and he knew that he was going to have to stoop being defensive around him because that was pretty unfair. "chip... this isn't just sex."  shit, is that what they were going to do? he wasn't sure if he was ready to deal with that. first of all, he'd practically drank an entire bottle of whiskey and he was definitely feeling it, but second of all.... well, this was dale, he was thinking about. he was thinking about dale in a more sexual way than he really had before. now, it was actually an option.
<br><br>
"it's what i've been dreaming about for years." he couldn't help but frown a little. marshall knew that he wasn't that great of a guy that he'd be the subject of a years worth of longing for. but whatever. marshall didn't really like the way he looked. he was too skinny, not quite tall enough to be proportionate and his hair never went the way that he wanted it to. why did he care so much anyway. it wasn't in marshall's nature to give a shit about sex. he wasn't a whore, but he wasn't a prude, and he just preferred to keep his sex life away from his work. and this was breaking all the rules that he usually had hard set into place and he was already breaking them, just by kissing dale in the first place. and to think! dale had come onto him, sure, but it was marshall who'd closed the gap between them and relieved all of the sexual tension that was building and building, and had been building over the past couple of weeks. he remembered sometime last week, when marshall had been lying in his bunk and dale had launched himself ontop of him. immediately marshall had wiggled his way away from under him and scolded him playfully. obviously, that wasn't exactly what he'd wanted to do, but he had to keep up some kind of act. the rest of the band were in the bus at the time and marshall was determined not to make anything weird. after tonight, he'd do the same thing, and he knew it. there was not way that they could be a real couple. not while they were on tour anyway, there were too many other people who would be affected. marshall wished that he could just live his own life, but when you were living in a van that just wasn't going to happen. he was suddenly so close to dale, that he could smell the sweat on him. it didn't smell bad, because it wasn't that b.o. smell. it was just... dale. dale always smelled like something, whether it was alcohol or an after show smell. all of them smelled like that, and the bus always smelled like that, so marshall hardly even noticed anymore.  "do you want it to matter, chip?" marhsall was starting to love it when dale called him that. it was something different that set him apart from everyone else. he got to be the chip to his dale. out of all the people who were on tour with them, dale had chosen him.
<br><br>
marshall closed his eyes as the kisses down his jaw caused him to shiver a little bit, and then shit. were they really going to do this? was he going to let him? fuck yes he was. he lifted his narrow hips and pressed them closer to dale so that he could get better access to the button. yeah. more just... i want to know if this is just another fuck. he didn't even know if he cared anymore. he was beyond the point that dale was here and that he was letting him touch him. now marshall wanted to get off. fuck, all of the shit dale was making him feel, and so fast. the heat was rising below his waste and he wanted desperately for his pants too just come off so there were less layer between them. "what do you want to be when we wake up tomorrow?" god shit goddammit fuck. the zipper was coming down but marshall was unable to move. um, i don't... i don't know. fuck. he heard his voice coming out raspy, but he didn't care what it sounded like. he couldn't think, and he couldn't speak. it was all he could do to move his hand up to grab onto the side of dale's neck, break his gaze away from his eyes and kiss him again. this time, he let his tongue press against dale's lips, requesting entry.

<br><br>

he jolted his hips up again in a desperate attempt to to connect his groin with dale's hand, or something to bring relief to this tremendous tension that was manifesting in his throat and making this so much more difficult. suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore. he didn't care that someone could walk in; they'd understand, right? they were like bros and whatever. marshall had ignored when keegan had his girlfriend over, this was just something they were going to have to deal with. obviously, this was a little bit of a different situation. marshall didn't care. there what no turning back now. he gently swatted dale's hand away from his pants and pushed him down on the couch so that marshall was lying on top of his. he rested his weight on his elbows, and let his face hover just above dale's. he shifted and used one hand to pop the button a loose, drag down the zipper then try to shimmy dale's jeans down his legs. he pressed his lips to dale's, kissing him hungrily and desperately because he was afraid that their time might be cut short in any second. dale, i want you. he whispered quietly, letting his tongue whip across the edge of his ear. his hands reached up the bottom of his shirt, and dragged his fingers across his clammy skin. he took one of dale's hands in his, letting most of his weight collapse onto him, and brought it to his now exposed boxer briefs, letting a small noise escape into dale's mouth. god he wanted him so badly.

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<div style="font-size: 42px; font-family: 'wire one', sans-serif; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align: center; color: #341D0A; line-height: 60%; padding-top: 10px;"></div>

<div style="width: 440x; padding: 4px; border-right: 10px solid E9A574; border-bottom:1px dotted #a3a3a3; border-left:1px dotted #a3a3a3; background-color:E8E8E8; font-family: 'open sans condensed', sans serif; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 90%; color: #454545;">TAGGED FOR WILLOW / DALE, IT'S ------ 1268 WORDS, AND THE LYRICS ARE FROM CAME OUT SWINGING BY THE WONDER YEARS. SAY HELLO TO AWKWARD MARSHALL! SORRY HE'S SUCH A FUCKING RETARD, OMG.</div></div>

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DALE CASH - April 13, 2012 12:25 AM (GMT)
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<div style="height:270px; width:375px; background-image:url('http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif'); background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #dbdbdb, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzptsexvir1qepyhpo1_500.gif);
-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0))); "></div>


<div style="width:375px; text-align:center; font-family: garamond; font-size:28px; text-transform:lowercase; letter-spacing:2px; line-height: 70%; color:#B5B9B8; text-shadow:#f6f6f6 1px 0px 0px; margin-top:15px;"><i>so please be all mine</i></div>


<div style="width: 365px; background-color: f3f3f3; opacity: .5; filter: alpha(opacity=50);">
<div style="width: 360px; text-align: justify; color: 3F3F3F; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 170%;">

<div style="text-align: center; color: 111111; overflow: hidden; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8.5px; padding-bottom:2px; padding-top:5px; letter-spacing: 2px; opacity: .3; filter: alpha(opacity=30);">1089 words. marshall. ok short and shit and i didn't know if i should write anything about the morning after</div>

it was weird sitting with marshall in all of this seriousness. sometimes he had serious talks with people if he was feeling particularly down, but everyone knew that dale just wasn't serious or helpful at all. usually it'd be one tacklehug after the other and an endless string of sexual jokes and inappropriate remarks. marshall could be just as energetic as dale, but not as much. he didn't seem to press conversation on as much as dale, so he didn't talk as much. dale didn't know if he should be saying things as he normally did. he'd probably end up ruining the mood completely. the situation was too fragile to risk testing any new waters. he'd stay in his safety boat even though he's already dipped a toe in by mentioning sex. it was a bit of a presumption to make, but hopefully it wouldn't be too much of an issue. everybody was used to it anyway. granted, dale wasn't usually being serious, but he had said it in a less serious tone than some of the things he'd said, so maybe he wouldn't even notice. he was trying to seem more like the normal dale, but he didn't feel like the normal dale at all. he was letting dale the sensitive guy shine through, even if only a tiny bit. just a glimpse of him was something that people rarely got, so marshall should feel special. he should feel special for more reasons than that, actually. he had a lot going for him. dale actually got a bit jealous even when he was just hanging out with another person, even if it was another girl. he wanted marshall to only want him, and for them to be best friends and completely cool with each other, but dependent on each other. he could just tell that he'd make a horrible, possessive boyfriend if he was ever made one.
<p>
<i>"yeah. more just... i want to know if this is just another fuck."</i> god, he wanted to say that it was so badly. he should be telling marshall that it was just a fuck, and this was just like with leo. doing stuff with leo had been through boredom and horniness. doing stuff with marshall was the result of a long time of tension and dale being rejected by marshall over and over again. maybe all of that rejection was what made dale want him so god damn badly. that should mean that after it was over, he wouldn't want it anymore. that was how it was with dale: once the chase was over, it was over for good. yet here he was, perhaps not thinking into the future other than the immediate future just yet, but in the morning he'd just want it again and again. could he see himself ever not wanting marshall? not when he had feelings like he did. feelings that were entirely alien to him, and something new and exciting. sure, he didn't know what to do with them, but he had to find out somehow. he just hoped so badly that marshall wouldn't hurt him, because that was part of the reason he never allowed himself to fall for people. he was just so afraid of pain and rejection from somebody that he cared about. so this was certainly not just another fuck. it was lust and heat and desire and hunger. it was dale feeling something for somebody like never before. for once, maybe dale was maturing. maybe he'd out-lived his attempt at living his teenage years a few years late. had the time come for him to want something real? something other than 'just another fuck'. <b>"i don't know what this is... but it is not just another fuck."</b>
<p>
marshall was responding to his touch. he actually wanted this. and dale wanted his clothes off. right now. marshall didn't seem to know what he wanted them to be in the morning, but it didn't matter. neither did dale. they could be anything as long as they weren't going to stop talking. that was an impossibility anyway, thank god. it was lucky that dale could usually make people feel comfortable around him otherwise things really could get awkward in the future. dale kissed marshall back, feeling his tongue against his lips, and responding by pushing his own tongue between marshall's. he slid his hand down marshall's pants, feeling his zip graze against the back of his hand and now wanting him even more. he wanted things to move quickly, but he wanted them to last a long time. he deepened the kiss and pressed his hand against marshall's crotch. he was pushed away, and for a stupid moment he thought that that meant marshall wanted to stop, and his heart sank, but when he felt himself being pushed down, he let himself drop back onto the couch, staring up into marshall's eyes. holy shit he had the nicest eyes ever. there was so much hype over blue eyes, but marshall's were such a luxurious shade of brown. they sort of reminded dale of a puppy and of the really cute anime characters. he wouldn't tell marshall that in case he got offended, but he was losing himself in those two eyes right now. dale slid out of his clothes, feeling nervous and excited at the same time. his heart was beating so fucking fast, he swore he'd have a heart attack in a second if marshall kept on being this sexy. he hoped he wasn't showing all of these things outwardly, surely it couldn't be attractive. <i>"dale, i want you."</i> he didn't know whether to tell him how much he wanted him back or just let it drop. it'd probably be best to let it drop, but their lips were already parted. maybe he should respond. but more clothes were coming off. marshall's weight fell onto him and his hand was suddenly at marshalls boxers. the noise that marshall made was the hottest, cutest thing he thought he'd ever heard. he fumbled around beneath his boxers for a moment and then removed whatever remained of their clothing. he let his emotions take over, and suddenly what he thought would never happen was happening right there on his tour bus.
<p>
***
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