#shrimp watches that nerd confirmed

[shrimpothy]

this genuinely seagulls

[chuckepisodes]

Chuck vs. The Sizzling Shrimp Part 3

Chuck was getting ready to leave for work when as soon as he opened his door, Casey was standing there and Chuck jumped a little. "What, are we carpooling now?" Chuck asked sarcastically. " Just heard back from Washington. They confirmed Mei-Ling's story. Her brother Lee Cho's a low-level bureaucrat from Beijing. He was kidnapped on a business trip to L. A. By local triads. The Chinese received a ransom call asking for the release of a triad captain in Beijing. They refused." Casey explained. All of a sudden, you and Sarah appeared in front of Chuck, both dressed in your uniforms as well. "Mei-Ling was here on her own. Her government never signed off on a rescue op." Sarah continued. " What's the connection to the guy in the wheelchair? " Chuck asked. "Well, the feds have always suspected that he had triad roots, but they could never prove it." Sarah said as you and her began to link arms and walked along with Chuck and Casey. "Okay, so what do we do now?" you asked. "Nothing. We stay out of it." Casey said looking at you. " Hold on a second. I watched that guy get stuffed into a trunk. And it's because we got it wrong." you said stopping in your tracks and turning to Casey. " We're not going to start an international incident over someone not even the chi-coms care about. Let it go, Y/N, huh?" Casey said walking away. " Sarah, I screwed up, okay? It's my fault." you said turning to look at her now. "Y/N it's not your fault." Chuck said trying to reassure you. "But it is! I'm the one who decided to get out of the van and help that man Chuck. You wanted me to wait." "But I still got out and helped you too. Y/N don't..." Chuck said putting his arm around you. " Her brother's going to die, and it's all my fault." you said looking down at the ground. "No, it's her fault. She went off the grid and she disobeyed orders coming here." Sarah said. "Yeah, but her superiors didn't even give her a choice. Come on!" you said frustrated. " Sarah, I'd have done the same thing, if it was Ellie. I'd have done the same thing. Minus the shooting apart the club part." Chuck said trying to help you. "I know how you feel. It was hard for me, too, when I first started. But the truth is we can't save everyone, guys." she said walking away. Chuck looked over at you and can see your still upset. He still had his arm around you and rubbed your arm a little. "Come on Y/NN." he said softly and you both followed Sarah out and headed to work.

Chuck was now behind his desk at the Buy More. He was busy with the computer when the phone rang. "Nerd herd. Bartowski speaking."

"I'm looking at you right now." "Oh, you're looking at me right now. Who is this?" Chuck said in a joking way since he believed it was a prank. " Let's just say you owe me. For ruining my rescue operation." Chuck then stopped and knew this wasn't a prank. " Mei-ling. " he then waved over at Casey trying to get his attention. "Put your hand down. If you signal your friend, it's the last thing you'll ever do. By the way, nice mustard stain." You then came in to see Chuck on your break and could see Chuck panicking so you quickly walked over to him. He started pointing at the phone when he saw you. "Oh good your friend is here too. She can stay." "Where are you?" he said looking around. You were so confused. " Not near the Kelly Clarkson display." "What exactly do you want?" "Chuck who is it?" "Mei-Ling." Your eyes went wide. " The triads put a clock on my brother's life. He dies in nine hours, if I don't do something." "Okay, yeah, about that. About that. Listen, we are both really, really sorry. And if there's anything that we can do to make up for it... " "Help me rescue him." Morgan then came approaching the desk. "I'm a dead man. Dude, I'm in last place in the sales competition. If you do not help me, I am gonna get fired." " One word to him and you're a dead man too." Mei- Ling said. " Not now, Morgan, please. I have a really, really upset customer." Chuck said to him trying to get him to leave. You looked over at Morgan feeling bad. Morgan tried to say something but Chuck cut him off and Morgan walked away. You watched him leave then turned back to Chuck. "Listen to me. Listen to me. We are good samaritans. We just helped the wrong guy. I help people run computers, Y/N works in a restaurant, we don't do rescue operations." Chuck continued on the phone. "I tailed you and your handlers. You have a team watching your every step, which means you can help, and you will. I'll be in touch soon." Mei-Ling finished hanging up. " Hello? Hello..." You and Chuck just looked at each other then Casey came walking by. "Want a hot dog?" Chuck asked him. Casey looked at you then at Chuck wondering why we would ask him that. " It's an emergency." They then looked at you. "Follow me gentlemen."

You, Chuck, Sarah and Casey were now all sitting at a table at Weinerlicious. "So, listen, I've been thinking a lot about last night. And, you know, you guys were talking about how the spy could be valuable to us. So, I was thinking, what if we could convince her to, I don't know, like, uh, give up some secret stuff... " Chuck started. "You mean defect?" Sarah asked. "Defect! Yes!" " People do that kind of thing all the time, right?" you asked. "The hunt for red October. White Knights. White Knights-- Gregory Hines, baryshnikov, dancing their way to freedom." Chuck continued. " Well, as long as you've done serious research on the subject. You get her to defect, I'll help rescue her brother personally." Casey said as he continued to eat his hot dog. "Why are you bringing this up?" Sarah asked. " Well, she sort of... Just... Called me." " She called you? Where?" Casey asked. " At the Buy More. I think she might've been in the store, too, because she knew my every move.  She knew when Y/N walked in. She even knew that I had mustard on my tie." Casey and Sarah quickly got out of their seats and headed towards the store. Once they got there they began to look around. You stuck by Chuck though and waited to find out what was going on. Chuck saw Morgan coming up and stopped him. "Hey! Hey, Morgan... Hey, buddy. Listen, I'm really sorry about last night. I got home really late." " Yeah, don't sweat it, man. It's just my livelihood at stake." " What about tonight? Maybe after mother's day." " Working a double shift, you know. It's my last chance to kind of make enough sales to, uh, not get fired. Thanks, though, pal." Morgan walked away and you could tell Chuck felt bad. You put your hand on his arm to comfort him. "Chuck... " Jeff called out coming out of nowhere. "There's a delivery of hard drives in the storage cage you need to sign for." " Great. Thank you... Jeff." Jeff walked away and you looked at Chuck. "I know I don't work here but since I have known you forever and how it goes here ever since you began to work here... Don't your deliveries come later?" Chuck looked at you thinking about that. "Maybe it came early?" "Maybe....Maybe I should come with you to check this out." " Sure!" And you followed Chuck to the storage room. As you looked around for the delivery person you saw a girl standing in a corner. "Chuck over here!" you called out to him as you approached her. "Oh, hey, I think that's for this man down there." All of a sudden the woman turned around and had a gun pointed at you. It was Mei-Ling. "Please tell me that's not real. The gun, not the clipboard." you said panicking. " Real enough?" Then Chuck came down. "Y/N where is this..." then he saw Mei-Ling with her gun on you. "Oh! Listen, listen, they agreed to help if you would just defect." Chuck started. " What?" " It's really not that bad here, you know. The chinese food's pretty good. Have you tried sizzling shrimp?" Then Casey and Sarah came busting into the storage room, guns pointing at Mei-Ling. "Drop the gun! Drop it! " Casey yelled. Mei-Ling then twisted your arm to the back, pulled you close to her and now pointed the gun at your head. "Y/N!" Chuck yelled getting really nervous now. "Let go..." Sarah said. " Shoot me, I shoot her." "Hey, hey, I got an idea. How about a new plan that involves less shooting. Especially one that involves someone I really care about." Chuck said looking back at Casey and Sarah. "Casey... Casey... You agreed to help if she defected, right?" you asked. "I would never..." Mei-Ling said. " Why? Too much loyalty to your government? The same one that left your brother for dead" Casey asked. " If I defect, I can never go back to China. I will never see my brother again." " And if you don't, you'll lose him forever. And you don't want that." You started to say feeling awful. "Guys... Promise Mei-Ling you'll help rescue her brother if she defects. Please. Please? " you pleaded with Casey and Sarah. "Promise. Now let the kid go." Casey said. "How do I know I can trust you?" Mei-Ling asked. "You don't have any other choice." Sarah said. Mei-Ling finally pushed you away and Sarah and Casey lowered their guns. Chuck ran to you and hugged you. You hugged him back tightly. "You okay Y/NN?" he asked still hugging you. "I'm okay Chuck. Thank you."

Chuck drove you back to his place where your car was parked. You both got out of the car and he walked you over to yours. "Thanks Chuck. For walking me to my car and for earlier." Chuck looked down nodding his head. "Of course Y/N. You would have done the same for me. You have done the same for me." You both stopped walking and turned towards each other. "That's true. I have. And both times I was terrified." "Yeah today...Seeing her hold that gun to your head. I knew she probably wouldn't have done anything but...It was a sight I didn't want to see." You can see Chuck was very upset so you walked over and went on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and then gave him a hug. Chuck hugged you back tightly. "Now, you go in there and get ready for your Mother's day with Ellie." "You know you should be apart of it as well. You've been a part of our family for forever. You were there when this all started." "Aww Chuck you have no idea how much that means to me. But this is yours and Ellie's day. Enjoy your time together." Chuck smiled at you. He still couldn't believe after all these years how amazing you were. "Thank Y/N. Well have a good night. See you tomorrow?" "Absolutely. Bye Chuck." You got into your car, waved goodbye and drove off.

Later at night you were called to come down to Casey's place for the night's mission. You knocked on the door and Casey let you in. "Hey." You walked in and saw Sarah and Mei-Ling standing around. "Hey Sarah! Mei-Ling." You were still uncomfortable with her after earlier. All of a sudden you heard and knock on the door and when Casey opened the door you saw Chuck standing there. "Hi. Hey, I brought Ellie's secret recipe." Chuck said holding up a plate of chips and dip. " Just trying to help out the mission any way that I can. Can't really stay." He then looked over and saw you standing there. "Hey Y/NN." "Hey Chuck." He smiled and came over and stood beside you. "There are at least ten guards we know of stationed at these points here, here, here." Mei-Ling said pointing at spots on a map of a house. "The security cameras are tkx-50's. They're a little outdated, but they're equipped for remote access. Either of you familiar with them?" Sarah said. "I am. Yeah, we used to sell them at buy more. Did a bunch of installs a few years back. They're pretty easy to access." Chuck said. "Good. Every warm body helps." Mei-Ling said. "I'm sorry... Me? No, no, no, no, no. Look, as much as I wish that I could help you, I can't. I made plans with my sister that are non negotiable." "Yeah this is a real important day for them guys. Can't he get a break?" you said stepping in. Casey, Sarah and Mei-Ling just stared at you both. You knew you weren't getting out of this. "But, of course, I know that you wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me. I want to be with my sister and you obviously really want to be with your brother. We're like one big whacky transatlantic family. I owe you. I'm in. " Chuck said. "I guess me too." you added. "Okay, fine. But you don't leave the van under any circumstances." Casey said. " I just need to be home by 8:00, if that's at all possible." You and Chuck were really hoping you could make this work.

[douxreviews]

Supernatural - ‘Moriah’ Review

"Writers lie."

Holy wow. Pun intended.

Did they just make God the ultimate final season bad guy? Did they really? How meta is that?

Before I get into the heavy stuff, let's start with the funny. That explosion of harmful truth at the facial recognition company was classic comic Supernatural from beginning to end – from the stolen yogurt to the stapler queen to the President's deal with Crowley. After all of the recent grimdark, I most certainly did not expect such hilarity to ensue. "I'm Dean Winchester and I'm looking for the Devil's son. This badge is fake." Liar Liar on steroids.

And I totally did not expect Chuck to show up, even after the set-up of Castiel's prayer not that long ago. At first I thought this was a good thing, of course, because Chuck showing up is usually a good thing. Not this time.

Yes, we've been told over and over that Chuck is all about the storytelling. He's the one that writes paperback books in his underwear. It's funny (interesting, not funny ha-ha) how Dean, Sam and Castiel had pretty much had it with Chuck, all at the same time. Note their exasperated expressions as Chuck did everything he could to sell his new magical plot twist gun that could kill anything but would also kill the one who pulled the trigger. Everyone remember the Colt?

But what gave me chills was when they were all in the cemetery ("Swan Song," anyone?), Dean was standing over a kneeling Jack with that gun in his hand, and Chuck had this absorbed little grin on his face. As I said in the opener, holy wow. The Winchesters aren't real people to Chuck, after all. They're just characters in his favorite show. We sort of knew that, without really considering the implications. Archangel Michael told us that Chuck tosses worlds away like failed versions of a book, and he wasn't lying. How about that.

God is their showrunner. He has literally been playing with Dean and Sam their entire lives. They're chess pieces to him, and nothing more. Chuck actually offered to bring back Mary if Dean killed Jack, like, sacrifice your knight and pawn, I'll give you back your queen. When Dean refused to kill Jack and Sam (understandably) lost his temper and shot Chuck with the magic gun, that was it. His squirrels were fighting back. How dare they.

Story's over. Welcome to the End. That final scene as the darkness fell, the monsters rose from hell and the dead from their graves was set to the song, "God Was Never on Your Side." I thought this conflict over Jack would blast Dean and Castiel apart, with Sam in the middle, but instead, this episode ended with the three of them back to back to back, ready to fight off the dead together. So at least there's that.

With the last season approaching, I've been thinking lately that the perfect end for the series would be for Dean and Sam to knock on Mary's white door and join their parents in their special heaven (there'll be peace when you are done). But is Heaven even a thing any more? Will it still exist when the series ends?

If this world of Supernatural isn't what we've been led to believe, what about the Empty? That last shot of Jack was with Billie and the Black Cloud of Lucifer (was that Lucifer?) who made the creepiest smiley face at Jack. Does Billie have the answer to all of this? We've been told that Death can reap God. Can she?

Bits:

— Title musings and various names: "Moriah" is the place where Abraham was supposed to sacrifice Isaac, like Dean was supposed to sacrifice Jack. That cemetery looked a lot like the apocalyptic season five finale. Chuck wanted to name the gun Hammurabi, or The Equalizer. And Amara is in Reno playing Keno.

— Mirror Universe, the name of the facial recognition software company, was just about perfect: a reminder of all of Chuck's discarded universes, as well as all of the alternate universe characters we've been meeting these days.

— Note that Jack was never a threat to Chuck. Jack also didn't kill his grandmother.

— Castiel was thinking that Lucifer's cage might contain Jack. That's actually a pretty good solution.

— Yet another mention of souls. Why is Chuck powerless to change or restore them? Must be important.

— Poor Celine Dion. She's the punchline of a joke, much like Barry Manilow.

— I loved how Chuck critiqued season seven with the Leviathans and season twelve with the British Men of Letters.

— "God Was Never on Your Side" is by Motorhead. Last week, Dean, Sam and Castiel were agents Kilmister, Clarke and Taylor.

— The reference to Crowley and the universe of squirrels reminded me of Moose and Squirrel. Is Crowley in the Empty, too?

— Rob Benedict's credit was at the end. Gold acting stars for Mr. Benedict, by the way. Or possibly "God acting stars." Playing God isn't exactly easy, especially when he's become such a complicated character.

Quotes, the Mostly Chuck edition:

Dean: "Nerds." Sam: "Takes one to know one." Dean: "What?" Sam: "You. Come on, man. You're always calling me a geek, but you know every word to every Led Zeppelin song backwards and forwards, you can discuss in detail every major rock drummer between '67 and '84 and… you watch Jeopardy every night." Dean: "Yeah, okay. But I'm nothing like this gaggle of Zuckerbergs."

Dean: "I'm Dean Winchester and I'm looking for the Devil's son. This badge is fake." That made me laugh like a loon.

Female newscaster: "In what was supposed to be a speech on farming subsidies, the president instead spent more than two hours disclosing his entire tax history, his deep ties to Russia and North Korea, and the, quote, demon deal he made with someone called Crowley. Back to you, Chet. Chet?" Male newscaster: (looks directly at her) "I love you. I have always loved you."

Dean: "When people can't lie, the internet gets real quiet."

Chuck: "I'm a writer. Lying's kind of what we do."

Dean: (to Chuck) "Where the hell have you been?" Dean may be the only person I can think of who can look God in the eye and say something like that.

Chuck: "So! How's things? Okay, look, I get it. I'm the deus from the machina, and you have questions."

Sam: "Where have you been?" Chuck: "It's hard to explain. Everywhere and nowhere. Edge of the universe and beyond. And I saw Springsteen on Broadway. Man's a genius."

Newcaster: "… and it's been confirmed: the Queen of England is, in fact, a lizard." What episode is that from? I can't remember!

Chuck: "Look, the point is, the kid did all that with two words. What's next? He sneezes, and whoops, there goes India?"

Chuck: "Ugh. Billie. I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle porn. This new Death, she's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong." Echoing the fans again.

Sam: "So how many are there? How many other worlds or universes or realities, or whatever?" Chuck: "I don't know. Kinda lost count. Most of them are boring, one's in reverse, in one there's no yellow, one of them's just all squirrels." I'm thinking a world without shrimp.

Sam: "Do you watch us? When you're not here, are you watching us?" Chuck: "Yeah. (Sam gasps) I mean, you're my favorite show."

I could write a few more pages about this episode, but I think I'm done for now. And I am totally impressed. Four out of four squirrels, and what did you guys think?

Billie Doux has been reviewing Supernatural for so long that Dean and Sam Winchester feel like old friends. Courageous, adventurous, gorgeous old friends.

[40millionyears]

fic: done too much of some things (not enough of others) [the good place, chidi x jason]

my dissertation died so that this could live.  done too much of some things (not enough of others) "Jianyu's a straight-up hottie, he's got those hunger-cheekbones, you know, and he doesn't talk so he's never gonna correct your pronunciation or tell you not to send your super annoying co-worker a virus-infested email. Why wouldn't you be into him?" or, there were 802 versions of michael's neighborhood, and chidi and jason were definitely thrown together as soulmates in one of them. --- based on this post by babedur. it was supposed to be comedic crackfic, but I’m not funny.  read it at ao3 or under the cut, and please reblog to support the best timeline.

Chidi’s not an idiot. Chidi dedicated his entire life on Earth to not being an idiot, to pursuing the fundamental truths of the universe and understanding the intricacies of human morality and a lot of other abstract intellectual things. Chidi’s life on Earth is over, though, and so far the other side of things is really not what he’d been expecting. Michael’s at his door, genial and natty, the afternoon sun making his white linen suit glow like a full-body halo. There’s a man standing just behind him, fine-featured and dark-haired and wearing a simple cream robe. Chidi vaguely remembers seeing him at the neighborhood meeting, and again at Tahani’s welcome party. “Chidi, this is very exciting. I want you to meet your soulmate, Jianyu,” Michael says warmly, ushering the man gently inside. “Now, Jianyu is a Taiwanese monk. He obeyed a strict code of silence in life, and he has indicated that he would like to maintain that here. But I’m sure the two of you will find plenty of ways to get along.” “My… soulmate. This is my soulmate,” he repeats, tripping over the word. He’s not an idiot, but in the moment, he can’t get the sentence to add up to meaning. “Oh, you mean, like, a platonic soulmate? And not Platonic, like Plato and the halves and the wandering, but small-p platonic. Friends. You mean friends?” Michael just smiles enigmatically, and Chidi’s stomach does a somersault. Whatever the fundamental truths of the afterlife were, they were throwing him for a loop. . (Jason, on the other hand… well, the jury’s still out. Thinking too much or for too long makes his brain feel like a slinky, so he tends not to. He is street-smart enough to recognise a lifeline when he sees one, though; when the tall guy in the dope suit asks him if he wants to keep his vow of silence, he just nods, even though he has no idea what’s going on. Episodes of Punk’d only went for about half an hour, so whatever weird prank show this is, he figures he can last at least that long.) . Eleanor is a miniature tornado of ethical diceyness and stolen shrimp and mistaken identities, spinning around something real and genuine underneath it all. She whirls into Chidi’s afterlife and completely upends the peaceful thesis-writing eternity he’d envisioned. “I have to help her, right?” He’s talking more to himself than anything else as he paces around his small kitchen, not really in need of an audience, but Jianyu is listening intently from his perch on a bar stool. “I mean, I don’t want to lie to Michael. I don’t want to lie to anyone, and I can’t tell her to lie, either. Buuuuut, maybe she can improve. Maybe moral virtue really can be learned. So, does that mean there’s a moral imperative to help her? Do I have a greater obligation to the community? What if it’s all a test?” His voice rises as each question tumbles frantically, unanswered, after the next. Jianyu just gazes at him, his face serene, and gives a tiny nod. He comes around the kitchen counter, standing so that his legs are bracketing Chidi’s knees, and places both his hands on Chidi’s chest. His palms are warm and feel heavier than they should be, a calming weight that seems to slow Chidi’s heart. For the first time since he got to the Good Place, Chidi feels grounded. Certain. “Oh,” he says. “Okay. You’re right. I’ll help her.” . “Janet?” Chidi calls, and she blips into existence in front of him. “Hi there!” “Janet, I just want to check. Again. The way soulmates work here. They don’t have to be romantic, right?” “That’s right!” she confirms, beaming at him. Her face is a gold star made into (not) human expression. “Soulmates in the Good Place can be romantic, or platonic, or even spiritual.” “But how do you, you know, know. What, uh, what kind of soulmates you are?” She tilts her head to the side and looks at him in confusion. “You just… know,” she says slowly. “It’s not something you have to figure out. It’s just there inside of you. You know.” Chidi’s not an idiot. He’s just not immediately sure, the way that everyone else seems to be. . He finds things to distract himself. Eleanor needs ethics lessons and guidance and a morality transplant, probably, and he constructs elaborate teaching plans designed to occupy as much of his time and brain as possible. There’s also the tiny matter of her eternal damnation (and possibly his) if either of them mess up, which takes up a nice chunk of his worrying capacity. He returns home one morning, coffees and new chalk in hand, to find his teaching board pushed aside and Eleanor sprawled on his small sofa watching an NFL game. “You like football?” he asks, surprised. She’d never struck him as being interested in sports, mostly because she’d once called them ‘a waste of prime reality TV real estate.’ “I mean, I’ll watch anything where beefy guys rail on each other while wearing tights. Or while not wearing tights. But it was just on when I got here and I couldn’t find the remote,” she says with a shrug. “I figured you were a secret fan.” “Never even seen a game,” Chidi says, pointedly handing her the remote from where it had been sitting on the coffee table. Directly in front of her. “Fine, I couldn’t be bothered to reach for the remote,” she admits, rolling her eyes. For a minute he could swear he hears a gasp from the rock garden outside, a fleeting sharp breath, but when he looks out, Jianyu is sitting as silently as ever. . He’s starting to feel less certain, now, when Jianyu does the hands-on-chest thing. Less grounded, and more… overwhelmed with the sensation of boundless possibility. . “Are you seriously telling me that you’re just now, in heaven, in the afterlife, realising that you might also be into dudes?” Eleanor cackles. Her face is a caricature of scandalised joy and she hits him on the shoulder in delight. Hard. For a tiny person, her punch packs a lot of power. “No… maybe?” he says, rubbing at the smarting skin and wondering if he could bruise in heaven. “I don’t know. It’s just… this whole male soulmate thing has caught me off guard. I only ever had girlfriends, and not even many of those. I don’t even know if there’s a physical… element. It’s just a feeling, that I can’t explain, and it’s making my stomach ache.” They’d abandoned that day’s lesson forty minutes into a discussion on Stoicism, which had devolved into Chidi comparing Buddhist teachings to the Stoics and subsequently freaking out, and Eleanor trying to fling rubber bands from an increasing distance into Jianyu’s singing bowl. And he and Eleanor are friends now, he guesses, actual friends who care about each other, and she’s got enough of her own weird-horny shirt going on to be mostly non-judgemental about his.  He can talk to her about this. As if to prove him right, Eleanor shrugs. “Okay, and? It’s not that big of a deal, man. He is your soulmate, after all. Pretty sure you’re supposed to feel something.” “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not even meant to be here and you still got a body-building mailman who can make fart noises with his armpits as your soulmate. Exactly your type.” “One of my types,” she corrects peevishly. “Don’t pigeonhole me, nerd. I’ve got lots of types. Plus, Jianyu’s a straight-up hottie, he’s got those hunger-cheekbones, you know, and he doesn’t talk so he’s never gonna correct your pronunciation or tell you not to send your super annoying co-worker a virus-infested email. Why wouldn’t you be into him?” Chidi finds he doesn’t really have a good answer for that. . (There are days – lots of days. Most of them, actually – where Jason can barely keep himself from dropping the whole monk thing and just asking Janet to get Chidi some weed. He can’t even imagine how much Chidi’s head must hurt from all the thinking he does, all the time. It must be like a million slinkies going down the stairs all at once in there. Chidi is nice, though, and smart, and the kitchen is always clean, and he doesn’t seem to mind that Jason can’t answer his crazy endless questions. When he gets too wound up, Jason just puts his hands on Chidi’s chest, the way a nice nurse had done to him once, and he calms down. So even though Jason gets a little bored sometimes, of pretending to be silent and wise and not craving jalapeno poppers, it seems to make Chidi happy. Jason likes when his friends are happy. He’ll just keep watching the Jags on the DL when Chidi’s out, even though all they seem to get here is repeats of the regular NFL channel and he’s seen all the games. Also, he saw what happened when Eleanor ratted herself out, and he doesn’t really want to have to go back to school.) . Jianyu had patiently listened to him ramble about the consequentialist rationale behind asking Janet for almond milk that morning, before disappearing and returning with a Good Place-approved carton of the very same (“no heavenly almonds were harmed in the making of this completely ethical beverage”, it read in a cheerful, if slightly on-the-nose, font), handing it to Chidi with a smile. As a result, Chidi barely makes it ten minutes into his lesson plan with Eleanor before derailing. She pretends to be horrified at his “lack of respect for ol’ Tommy Quine-Quine’s place in your syllabus,” a farce which she manages to maintain for approximately fifteen seconds. “I always wanted a soulmate,” he tells her, once she's finished making fun of him. “I hoped they existed. But I figured it would be someone who would debate philosophy with me, or books, or just talk. Like, at all. And Jianyu must have so much insight into his own cultural understanding and interpretation of ethics. The fact that we can’t talk is driving me insane. But then he just… looks at me! He looks at me all peaceful and wise and it makes me forget what I’m thinking.” “Okay, sit down, weirdo,” she says, steering him to the uncomfortably small bench that’s somehow the centrepiece of her living room. “Okay. Last week, remember, when you had that giant boner for deontology. You told me that there are some things that are just fundamentally good.  Right? So if you like Jianyu—” “I don’t—” he begins to protest, but she smooshes her hand against his mouth to cut him off. “—if you like him, in whatever way, then that’s good. That’s a good feeling, because he’s a good person and so are you. And if something is truly good, no situation is gonna be made worse by it. And you can’t even argue, cause you just taught me that!” “Well, don’t listen to me, I’m an idiot,” he says, dropping his head into his hands with a groan. “No you’re not.” She shakes her head, her voice thick with affection. “You’re the smartest person I know.” “Then how come I can’t figure this out?” “Just let it be what it is,” she advises, patting him on the back and stealing a huge bite of his scone. “You don’t need to give it a name. There’s no rush. We’re in the Good Place, dude. You’ve got a literal eternity to see what happens.” “How are you the smart one right now,” he mutters into his splayed palms, and she smiles smugly. . Things start getting very strange. One day, a giant sinkhole opens up in the middle of the town, swallowing two sushi restaurants and some flower beds and a park bench and one very unlucky dog. The fountain in the square starts gushing clam chowder instead of water, before exploding completely and coating half the town in a thick seafood-y glaze. A plague of giant bees terrorises the neighborhood for a week. (Chidi can’t be one hundred percent sure, but he swears that the bees had teeth.) They start getting snippy with each other, with Janet temporarily offline, arguing over the smallest things. Tahani offends Eleanor by calling her ‘rustic’, and Eleanor cuts the mansion’s hedges to look like penises as retaliation. It gets harder and harder to keep Eleanor’s secret. In the middle of all, he has an… intimate dream about Jianyu. He makes the mistake of mentioning it to Eleanor, and she promptly spends three hours recalling for him, in graphic and specific detail, tricks she thinks he could learn from her favorite gay pornography. "Your brain is so horny for him that it's overflowing and now your body is too," she says, with such an authoritative tone that Chidi almost buys it as a scientific explanation. So it turns out there might be a physical element after all. He still doesn't know what it all means. . (Everyone is fighting, and the TV is still only showing Jags games from three years ago, and the X-Box in his secret room stopped working and Janet’s not around to fix it. And Chidi's being sad and weird. Michael keeps telling them they’re in heaven, but Jason’s starting to think something’s wrong. ) . Eleanor gets found out, and Michael brings in a judgemental obelisk to decide her fate, and somehow it’s mystically decided that he has to choose. One of the fundamental truths of the afterlife, apparently, is that it’s completely forked up. Tahani is yelling at Michael, and Eleanor’s trying to sneakily escape through her sliding door as though she’s forgotten that it’s made of glass and everyone can see her, and Chidi’s panicking. He could really use some of that calming Buddhist crap right now, wants the reassuring weight of Jianyu’s hands and whatever other implications come along with them. But Jianyu is still sitting at the very edge of Eleanor’s bench-couch, steadfastly silent, a slight clench in his jaw the only indication that he’s processing the events unfolding. Then he suddenly stands up, more animated than Chidi’s ever seen him, and he opens his mouth. . They’re not in the Good Place. They’re not in the Good Place and Michael has been torturing them all and Jianyu isn’t a monk but a Floridian ex-DJ named Jason Mendoza and it might all be because Chidi hadn’t heard of a mediocre football player with a frankly ridiculous name. “Jason figured it out? Jason?” Michael exclaims in disbelief, clutching at his side as though the notion physically pains him. Jianyu isn’t a monk, he isn’t Jianyu, and he isn’t Chidi’s soulmate. That’s okay. It’s not like Chidi had ever found a label for what he is. He's not losing anything because it turns out he never had it to begin with, and they're in literal hell so there are bigger things to be upset about, and the twist in his stomach doesn't mean anything. He nearly makes himself believe it. Snap.  

[myjaebutt]

#blessed

Yoongi x Jimin [Yoonmin] + Jin x Namjoon [Namjin] Word Count: 3911 Genre: Crack/Fluff Summary: “are...are you…” yoongi has to stop and take a breath. is he even allowed to ask this? jimin stops giggling and stares at yoongi expectantly, “am i what?” “are you…are you an angel?” (or sugamon get wasted af and yoongi suffers. yoongi always suffers.) [AO3]

to say yoongi is done is an understatement. he’s sure his brain has melted and the sloshing sound is from the mush moving around in his skull rather than the soju he’s carrying. he’s also sure the strange smell he keeps on getting whiffs of as he walks is coming from him and not the strange puddle of what he thought was turd earlier.  

the wary and slightly alarmed looks he keeps getting from passersby also confirms that he looks as shit (if not worse) as he feels. he can’t seem to remember the last time he took a shower let alone change his clothes. with a sigh he furrows into his (jimin’s) hoodie and rushes to namjoon’s apartment. showers can wait. right now yoongi needs to get wasted. he needs to fuckin celebrate surviving finals week. namjoon can deal with a little smell.

***

“hyung you have the alcohol?” namjoon opens the door looking all types of clean and put together yoongi hasn’t felt in days, weeks, ever.

“of course i have the alcohol. do i look like hoseok to you” yoongi pushes his way into the apartment and falls unceremoniously onto the couch. he could really use a nap, for like two years, maybe even three.

“two feet too short to be hobi hyung” namjoon snorts to himself , walking into the kitchen to receive what yoongi hopes is some sort of sustenance. his stomach feels emptier than his wallet after valentine's day (jimin is more high maintenance than he ever expected and no this does not make him whipped thank you for your unnecessary opinion kim taehyung).

“i would kick your ass for such disrespect but i don’t think i can get up” yoongi glares at the younger boy who shuffles back into the living room, arms piled high with various greasy and fattening snacks. perfect.

“if you could reach my ass” namjoon mumbles to himself and yoongi really would and could kick his ass but he’s much too preoccupied stuffing his face with shrimp chips. ass kicking could wait till later.

***

5 bottles of soju later, namjoon and yoongi are what jungkook would label “wasted af”. yoongi would care to disagree because he’s fine, totally fine, except for the small fact that namjoon keeps on spinning in front of his eyes and he doesn’t know how to make it stop.  

but other than that he’s fine, peachy, still stuffing his face with shrimp chips and trying to not look at namjoon for too long. which is kind of difficult when namjoon keeps on trying to get his attention to tell him about something his dog said. wait, his dog can’t speak. right?

“hyungggggg are you even listeninggggg” when yoongi doesn’t reply namjoon latches onto his arm and starts pulling to get his attention.

“listennnnnn to meeeeee”

yoongi would smack namjoon for pulling on his arm but all that comes out of his mouth is, “joon your dog can’t speak….right?”

a silence spreads around them and namjoon slowly backs away from yoongi, eyes wide and mouth scrunched up, almost as if he was trying not to cry.

“i.... i don’t know hyung. can he?” namjoon whispers to yoongi, looking all types of confused.

“it’s your dog namjoon how the fuck would i know?” annoyed for some reason he can’t understand yoongi starts opening another bottle. he’s too sober for this conversation.

“should i call jin hyung and ask? would he know?” namjoon mutters to himself, squinting at his phone.

yoongi leaves namjoon to his confusion and wanders off to hoseok’s room, bottled cradled in his arms like a newborn baby.

the stench of weed hits him through his drunk stupor the moment the door opens and yoongi remembers why he moved out in the first place. hoseok; resident sunshine, part-time best friend, notorious screamer in every and all moments of life and the campuses very own...weed king. yoongi doesn’t care for the fact that his friend likes to spend 80% of his week high or semi-high, even though he himself isn’t that big of a fan.

what prompted him to move out in the end was jimin; current boyfriend, has the nicest ass yoongi’s ever laid eyes on, an actual cinnamon roll and notoriously sensitive to just about everything. all it took was one off-hand comment 2 months into their relationship that the smell of weed hurt his head and yoongi moved out the next month (yoongi swears he’s not whipped though you can shut your mouth hole kim taehyung).

yoongi’s aimlessly walking around the room when namjoon pops his head into the room with a goofy smile on his face.

“jin hyung said rapmonnie can’t talk”

“that’s good?” yoongi’s like 95% sure dogs aren’t supposed to talk anyways.

“yeah. hey. hobi hyung said he got a new stash earlier this week. something special. wanna try it?” namjoon has a mischievous glint to his eyes and yoongi knows they’re both too drunk to do something stupid like getting high, but he can’t help it. it’s been a long week, and even longer month.

so without another thought yoongi finds himself nodding along and making way for namjoon to clamber into the room. he gets a weird knot in his stomach when he sees namjoon scoot under the bed. this is not going to end well.

after stumbling around under the bed for a few minutes namjoon tries to back out and ends up bumping his head on the edge. yoongi snickers from his place near the end of bed and makes no move to help his clumsy friend, this is what the punk gets for making fun of his height.

namjoon glares at him once he emerges from under the bed but yoongi’s too busy staring at the box in his hand to mind the younger boy, not that namjoon’s surprised.

without a word yoongi promptly turns away and walks back into the living room, bottle still cradled in his arms.

with a roll of his eyes namjoon follows behind and falls onto the couch, facing yoongi and tucking his long legs under him. he places the box between them and stares at yoongi.

“what the fuck you looking at?” yoongi turns and mimics the younger’s actions and places the bottle in the space between his legs.

“open it” namjoon pushes the box closer to yoongi.

“why do i have to do it?” a scowl appears on yoongi’s face, what game was namjoon trying to play.

“cuz hobi hyung won’t kill you when he finds out” namjoon uses his long ass legs to push the box against yoongi and yoongi’s scowl deepens even though he knows namjoon is 100% right.

“fine whatever” he plucks the box off the couch and swats namjoons leg away, curse namjoon and his abnormally long legs.

he spills the contents in front of him and with finessed fingers wraps up a good sized joint. the whole time namjoon watches him with enlarged eyes, amazed by yoongi’s lithe hands at work and yoongi can’t help but smirk.

***

an hour later and the joint long gone, namjoon and yoongi are definitely what jungkook would call ‘wasted af’.  

yoongi can make out namjoon speaking, some philosophical bullshit about how humans lack happiness because they care too much about others definition of happiness, but yoongi easily blocks him out (the nerd quotes socrates on a good day). instead yoongi focuses on the object in his hand (or tries to, he’s kind of worried why everything keeps shaking like all of those homemade videos taehyung likes to make of his dog). he knows it's his phone, namjoon’s own is precariously hanging off the edge of the couch, but he’s not so sure who it is on his lock screen. it has to be someone he knows, since it is his phone after all, but he can’t seem to place a name to the face and honestly it’s pissing him off. the dude on his lock screen is Hot with a capital h and yoongi is kind of in love.

“hey joon, ya know who this is?” yoongi leans over and shoves the phone into namjoon’s face.

“uhhh…. a-a-a friend?” namjoon stutters, eyes going cross-eyed as he stares at the phone.

“you are useless” yoongi grumbles curling back into his side of the couch, phone clutched to his chest.

“and i quote, ‘it’s none of my business what people say of me and think of me’” namjoon looks at yoongi, a faraway look in his eyes.

“joon, don’t you dare start this” yoongi warns.

“i am what i am and i do what i do”

“namjoon.”

“i expect nothing and accept everything”

“kim namjoon.” yoongi leans in. namjoon gulps. “shut up before i shut you up forever”

“haters gon’ hate and playas gon’ play. mufuckas keep mufuckin all day” silence engulfs the room as namjoon clasps both hands over his mouth, eyes going wide as he waits for yoongi to do something. anything.

and really yoongi could, and most definitely should, kick namjoon’s ass right about now (he may be “smol” as all his assholes friends like to remind him every single fuckin day but all those years of taekwondo weren’t for nothing).

however just as yoongi’s about to make his way over to teach namjoon a lesson about shutting the fuck up when your elders tell you to, yoongi’s phone vibrates with a message notification. and really a message wouldn’t usually stop yoongi from ladling out a well deserved ass whooping but said message is from the totally hot boy on his lock screen and yoongi scrambles to unlock his phone.

he momentarily stops to wonder why hot boy is saved in his contacts as jibooty. like what does that even mean. but all is forgotten when he opens the message and is greeted, read blessed, by a selfie from said hot boy aka jibooty. a blindingly cute picture in which his eyes are closed into crescents as he smiles widely at the camera. yoongi gasps, free hand coming up to clutch at his chest, how dare totally hot boy also be totally cute too.

from the corner of his eye yoongi sees namjoon start to move and turns to glare at the younger boy again, all was not forgotten. namjoon quickly retreats back to holding his mouth and yoongi nods once before turning back to his phone. namjoon should be thankful to this jibooty guy, he practically saved his life.

yoongi’s still staring at his phone when he hears the front door open and a shrill voice speak out, “oh my god it stinks in here.”

another voice, slightly softer, laughs out, “hobi hyung is gonna be so mad.”

the second voice sounds strangely familiar and yoongi turns to namjoon who simply shrugs his shoulders, hands still clasped over his mouth. yoongi doesn’t even know why he bothered. all a wasted namjoon do was quote dead guys.

with a roll of his eyes yoongi turns back around and instantly freezes the fuck up. because right there, a few feet away stands the totally hot dude aka jibooty aka the dude with the cutest fuckin smile yoongi’s ever been blessed to see and he’s not sure what’s real anymore (there’s another totally gorgeous guy next to jibooty but yoongi’s a loyal type of guy).

yoongi looks down at his phone and back up, and then back down and he’s not sure if this is some wet dream of his but he’s totally down. jibooty is even more hot in person. “fuck me.”

and then the most magical thing in yoongi’s whole life happens (well maybe, he can’t actually remember anything before this morning so who really knows, not yoongi for sure). totally hot dude let’s out the cutest giggle ever and yoongi’s whipped af, for a fuckin giggle. he would gladly give up his entire life savings, his house, his parents, heck he’d even give up his cat (if he had a cat) to hear that giggle again.

then totally hot boy strikes again. the cutest fuckin smile yoongi’s ever seen in his life returns, all wide and way too big with his eyes turning into crescents and yoongi feels attacked. his heart is racing, his palms are sweaty and honestly yoongi  feels as if he’s run a marathon and he's not sure if he should curl up into himself or fling himself at the boy (he really wants to fling himself at the boy). thankfully yoongi has some sort of control and crawls towards namjoon instead. he's still thinking about flinging himself into the arms of the boy though. he's pretty sure he could catch him because damn those arms though (yoongi wills his entire existence to not to think of those thighs because god help him he's gonna lose it).

“pstt. joon. i think the hot guy from my phone just came to life” yoongi whispers towards namjoon, eyes still trained on the guy. his heart almost stops when he sees the boy blush and hide a shy smile behind his hand and yoongi realizes much too late that his whispering is fuckin useless if it can be heard across the room.

“omg hyung. he even brought a friend” namjoon whispers, read screams, back at yoongi.

yoongi rolls his eyes at his friend and whispers, or so he thinks, “shhhh joon. they can hear you”

“but hyung. he’s hot. like really hot.”

“well im glad you think so” the taller guy smiles sweetly as he walks over to the couch and sits next to namjoon.

yoongi watches in shock as the guy carefully picks up the phone hanging on the edge of couch and dumps it in namjoon’s lap. he then slowly smooths back namjoon’s hair, still smiling way too sweetly.

“im flattered that you find your boyfriend to be ho.” he says with a smirk as he leans back against the couch.

“my boyfriend?!” namjoon chokes out the same time yoongi screeches,

“his boyfriend?!”

the guy just rolls his eyes and resumes petting namjoon’s head.

“what the fuck” yoongi deadpans before turning to stare at jibooty who’s trying really hard not laugh out loud, and failing miserably.

“what the actual fuck”

“ho--how?” namjoon stutters, unconsciously moving closer to the tall guy.

“how what?” the guy asks, an amused smile on his face.

“how did i get so lucky?” namjoon asks with all seriousness, staring up at the guy as if he was afraid he would disappear if he blinked.

“oh my god. jin-hyung i think namjoon-hyung just fell for you again” jibooty gives up on holding back his laughter and almost doubles over at the force of his own laugh.

“i wouldn’t laugh so hard jimin. the first thing yoongi said when he saw you was and i quote, ‘fuck me’.”

yoongi watches in awe as jibooty, aka jimin, stops laughing and starts spluttering as he flushes bright red. the flush spread all the way across jimin’s face and down his neck and yoongi can’t help but wonder how far down it goes (yoongi isn't a pervert he swears).

jimin’s face gets so red yoongi can’t help but wonder how hot his face would be if he touched it right now. so yoongi does what any sane person would do, totally. he slowly walks over to jimin, who simply watches him with a slightly amused looked.

and then when yoongi gets close enough he reaches out and places his hand on jimin’s cheek. totally normal, yup. jimin jumps slightly at the contact and flushes even more.

“wow. you’re really hot.” yoongi deadpans as he cradles jimin’s warm cheek in his palm. (yoongi also screams internally at how soft jimin’s cheeks are but no one needs to know that).

he can hear namjoon and the jin guy laughing, obnoxiously loud, in the back but he doesn’t really care. not when jimin is smiling at him, all big and wide and yoongi’s heart does that weird pounding thing when he runs after taehyung for eating all his cereal.

“i am?” jimin raises his eyebrow at yoongi and yoongi finally realizes what he said. fuck yoongi and his lack of brain activity when wasted.

still cradling jimin’s cheek yoongi tries to amend the situation. “well yeah. your face is like really warm and red right now. but you’re also like hot, like hot hot not warm hot. ya know?”

a moment passes as jimin stares at yoongi and yoongi wonders if he fucked up with the totally hot hot guy. his asshole best friend and his new, supposed to be old, boyfriend laughing like this is the comedy sketch of the century isn’t helping either.

then something wonderful happens and jimin starts giggling. he fuckin starts giggling like yoongi said the funniest thing ever and yoongi needs to fight his mom for telling him angels don’t exist. because she’s wrong. dead wrong. yoongi is like 300% sure jimin is an angel.

“are...are you…” yoongi has to stop and take a breath. is he even allowed to ask this?

jimin stops giggling and stares at yoongi expectantly, “am i what?”

“are you…are you an angel?”

the room is so quiet yoongi can hear namjoon gulping for air as he tries to stop himself from hyperventilating, and failing miserably. good. yoongi hopes he chokes on air.

jimin’s staring at him, a look that’s so sweet and intimate yoongi has to retreat his hand. he can feel the beginning of a blush spreading across his own face.

then jimin starts giggling again and the two idiots in the back are back to laughing way too loud and yoongi’s sure namjoon’s about to choke any second (serves that asshole right, he was supposed to be yoongi’s best friend wth). but none of that really matters because yoongi is now 400% sure jimin is an angel.

“can i see your wings?” yoongi softly asks, hands coming up unconsciously to grasp at the air between them.

with a smile jimin holds yoongi’s hands in his own and yoongi has to literally stop himself from cooing out loud. jimin has to have the smallest and cutest hands yoongi’s ever seen. holding his hands feel like a blessing. jimin the angel has blessed poor min yoongi’s sad life. he is cured, he will prosper, he will never be sad.

#blessed

yoongi has to force himself to look up from jimin’s hands when he hears him talking again.

“only my boyfriend can see them”

what kind of bullshit is that, yoongi thinks grumpily.

“but...i wanna see…” yoongi grumbles, lips pursing out into a non-pout, because min yoongi does not pout. ever.

“sorry. it’s the rules hyung” jimin squeezes yoongi’s hands in what would be a comforting gesture but all yoongi can think about is seeing some angel wings.

“can’t you like, you know...break up with him. and like, you know...be my boyfriend?” it’s a great idea. min yoongi is a problem solver. a genius. his mother would be proud.

“break up with him?” jimin is smiling at yoongi weirdly and maybe yoongi should know by now that this is a bad idea but he like really, really, REALLY wants to see them angel wings.

“yeah. i’m a great catch, i swear. i can’t cook, but i don’t burn my ramen’s so that’s pretty good. i haven’t graduated yet but i have a part-time job and i rap and people say its good. also i don’t break everything like namjoon. and im like super low maintenance. like all i need is cuddles and a couple kisses a day and im good….yeah” yoongi kinda wishes a black hole would spontaneously appear and suck him away. it would be probably less painful than the embarrassment he feels right now.

“hmmm. maybe i should.”

screw embarrassment. yoongi was getting himself a man. “yes. call him right now. do it.”

to yoongi’s delight jimin takes out his phone and starts dialing.

“get it hyung!” namjoon cheers from the back and yoongi smiles despite himself. he was definitely getting it.

a vibration in yoongi’s pocket startles him and he reluctantly lets go of one of jimin’s hands to take his phone out of his pocket.

“why are you calling me?” yoongi looks up at jimin incredulously. “you’re supposed to call your boyfriend so you can date me.”

jimin laughs before hanging up. “well you see hyung. we’re kind of already dating.”

“wait. are you like, you know, for real right now?”

“very”

“holy shit”

yoongi slowly turns around to look at namjoon.

“joon. im fuckin dating an angel”

“holy shit hyung”

jin and jimin break out into laughter and yoongi whips around to stare at jimin. he’s dating an angel. min yoongi is dating an angel. a totally hot and totally cute angel. min yoongi is truly blessed.

#blessed

***

yoongi wakes up the next morning feeling like he’s been left out to dry in the sun and then continuously pounded in the head with a bucket. his throat is drier than namjoon’s hair after a bleach and his eyes, once he prys them open, feel as if someone's been blowing into them. overall yoongi feels like shit. absolute shit.

just when yoongi thinks it couldn’t get any worse he feels someone stirring next. in a state of panic yoongi freezes up and prays to all gods out there that he didn’t fuck things up more than he already thinks. he slowly look down and lets out the biggest sigh when he realizes it’s just jimin. thank fuck, yoongi really didn’t wanna die today. and trust him, there was a long list of people who would gladly kill him if he fucked up. even though he knows just taehyung and jungkook are enough to kill and dispose of his body without anyone finding out.

he’s just about to relax when everything from yesterday floods back and yoongi groans. “fuck me.”

“wow hyung. you’re really asking for it again” a sleepy jimin smirks at yoongi. and yoongi would totally tell him to shut up, but he’s weak for sleepy bed-haired jimin (he’s weak for jimin in all and every state tbh).

“im gonna kill namjoon and then myself” yoongi deadpans running a hand across his face.

“it wasn’t that bad hyung” jimin giggles into his neck and yoongi can already feel himself melting.

“i called you an angel and then told you to break up with me so you could date me. just so i could see your wings”

“well... it was pretty bad”

yoongi groans. “im never drinking or smoking or even going near namjoon again. our friendship is over. im never fixing another door for him again”

yoongi hears jimin shuffling next to him and then next thing he knows jimin's straddling him and smiling all wide and beautiful and yoongi can’t help but smile back. he never can. he’s weak. sue him.

“it’s okay hyung. you were very cute. i totally fell for you again. total boyfriend material. would date. 10/10”

“oh shut up”

“hey don’t be mean. i won’t show you my wings otherwise”

yoongi rolls his eyes before pulling jimin down for a kiss. fuck hangover/morning breath. yoongi was gonna kiss his angel if he wanted to.

min yoongi may make stupid choices, and have friends who make even stupider choices. but he knows an angel when he sees one, and yoongi was definitely dating an angel named park jimin.

#blessed