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plush-rabbit · 1 year

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Dating Jonathan Ohnn/The Spot Headcanons

Okay, so when I write jonathan/spot I'm keeping it close to what we have seen and the general vibe from him but also how im interpreting him so here is what I headcanon dating him like and a bit of him in general!!

Jonathan Ohnn:

Jonathan Ohnn is awkward by default. While there are moments where’s confident, around you, he falls back to feeling young. All he wants to do is impress you, but when he stumbles and can’t find the right words to compliment you, he’s feeling warm all over himself. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders, and he hardly ever stands to his full height. When working, he’s usually found hunched over, and it’s starting to translate whenever he does any errands. You always reprimand him, your hand on the curve of his back as you tell him to stand straight. He smiles apologetically and for the next few minutes will walk upright until he’s back to his usual position. You hardly have the heart to tell him to stand up straight up again, so you hold onto his arm, walking beside him.

Most people would assume he is closed off and stoic, but he’s the opposite. He’s a rather emotional person. He’s able to hide it well for the most part. He isn’t afraid to let his emotions show when he’s feeling a certain type of way. He’s expressive, and it is usually the most prominent when he’s jealous. His face will twist into a scowl, and he’ll hold you close to him, hovering above you. When he speaks, it’s sharp and insulting to the other person- it’s probably one of the few times that you ever do get nervous because of him. He’s a smart man that won't do something that will get him into serious trouble, but he’s emotional and volatile. On the other side of the spectrum, he’s also one to look at you as if you painted the stars and the moon onto the sky, as if you’re holding the sky with your hands. He can never really hide his emotions from you- maybe it’s because the two of you are so intimate, but it’s like you can read him like an open book, like he wears his heart on his sleeve despite the walls that he tried to put up.

It’s not all the time that the scientist is direct, but for the most part he is when he’s around you. He tells you things as if it’s the most common knowledge with no room for debate to be held with him. He’ll tell you that you’re pretty, and that he likes it when you laugh, that it sounds sweet. He’ll mention how he cares for you, terribly so, and while holding your hand in his, and he’s tracing over your knuckles, telling you that he hopes that he gets to have a long and happy life with you. When your hand tightens around his, he’s brought back to reality, and he’s clearing his throat, unsure of where to look. He can tell you how he never wants to part from you, how you look so pretty under the sun, but he can never tell you that if you just asked, he’d drop everything and run away with you, that he’d want to be with you, that you’re the only one for him, that no one else can compare.

If he had to choose a favorite activity, it’s just being next to you. He doesn’t need anything more. He finds himself thinking that he has to be with you, needing to be next to you, wanting to know that you also want the same as he does. He’s desperately into you, needing you like he needs air, like air is a second thought to him, that as long as he has you, that’s enough. In the beginning of the relationship, he’d hold you at night, letting his arm fall asleep under your weight, brushing his nose along your cheek, and pressing a kiss where he touched. A thought made itself known to him that he wouldn’t want to leave you, not willingly. In the late nights that you two shared, where you called his name and kissed his lips, he could only picture you with him in the future. He holds your hand in his when you’re asleep, and he presses his palm against yours, and he knows that to keep himself sane, he needs to be with you, that to deprived him of you would be torturous. He hopes that you feel the same.

Work is a bit of a distance for the both of you to have a shared lunch together. On top of that, he doesn’t want you around Alchemax. He’d much prefer it if you stayed as far away from it as possible. If you ask about his day, he always gives you the most vague answers. If he can prevent you from knowing what it is that he is working on, he will. Every answer that he tells you about what he’s working on is from old projects, articles that he’s read, stolen ideas from the other scientists. He never wants you to mix with his work- no matter how draining it is for him.

Arguments are far and few between, but when they do happen, they tend to be loud and upsetting for both parties. Words slip without meaning to, and seeing the other quiet and look away with tears in their eyes, makes the fight stop. Working late nights and having to worry about being caught or something going wrong when that cannot happen, makes him irritable. He grows frustrated and snaps easily, and the few hours that he does get to rest are not enough. He doesn’t mean to snap, and always one to defend yourself, an argument will break out. Sometimes a fight will be resolved after one of you walks away to cool down, sometimes it takes the whole day for either of you two to speak to each other, pride often getting in the way. However, he hates being upset with you. You’re something good in his life, and he hates it when you won’t kiss him goodnight. So he’ll swallow his pride and apologize to you with his arms wrapping around you, kissing the top of your head.

While he isn’t unattractive by any means, and his quirks have their own charms, it doesn’t stop him from being insecure in the relationship. Whenever the two of you are in public, he feels the need to hold your hand to show to others that you’re taken, and that he’s right there. He’s never been one to take control in a relationship, and most flickered out fairly quickly, so when you both last longer than any of the ones before, he gets a bit freaked out in wondering what’s keeping you around. At night, when you're sleeping beside him, he’ll sit in bed and stare at you, and wonder what it is that attracted you to him. It must have been something, but he doesn’t know what it is and if he only knew, then maybe he could keep at it- maybe he could keep you.

Maybe because he doesn’t know what keeps you around, and he feels that at any minute, you’d leave, he resorts to buying you things. Nothing too lavish- nothing that would make you wonder where he was getting the money to pay for such ornate accessories. He will buy you small things- your favorite snack, a set of food containers that you held and remarked at how cute they were, or a mug decorated with your favorite character. It’s all enough, and it is never enough. He loves seeing your smile, and feels his chest swell in pride when you use any of the things he’s gotten you. Whatever it is that you want, he’ll get it for you, just to see you smile up at him. You always seem to return the favor even if he isn’t all that materialistic like you are. It’s little things that you gift him- a folder for his files, a mug that he only uses at home, a shirt that he’ll wear and keep even if the threads start to peek, a pen that he keeps clipped onto his coat.

His lips will press against the corner of your lips or your hand when out in public, he isn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affection unless he’s feeling particularly possessive. However, behind closed doors, he is a very affectionate person. He loves to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder whenever he gets the chance. He loves the warm feeling that you start in his chest. If he could, he’d find some way to bottle it forever. He likes to be near you, even if the two of you are doing your own thing and not speaking, knowing that he could glance over and see you, is more than enough. It’s silly and he’d never admit it to anyone- especially you- but he hates not having you near him when at work. He was never a fan of pictures, but if you’re in the frame, he’s lifting the camera to capture the both of you in a moment of stillness. He sets the picture as his phone background. During work hours, if he’s not messaging you, he’s looking at the background, enraptured by your smile.

Jonathan beams under your affection. Will smile softly when he lays his head in your lap and feels your hand begin to thread through his hair and scratch at his scalp. After a long day, he melts under your touch, humming when you twist a pinch of his hair around your finger. He’ll hide his face in the soft plush of your stomach, where you can see the corner of his lips stretched in a wide grin. When you kiss him, you sometimes pepper them all over his face, and he smiles, leaning in to try to kiss you. His face grows warm under your hands as you cup his face, with half-lidded eyes, he blinks at every kiss you press against his face. They’re feathery and soft. Every press of your lips against his face has him leaning into your touch. When you kiss at his moles, he feels himself smile, and hides himself into your palm, laughing when you coo at him to turn around.

The Spot:

After transforming into The Spot, he’s much more clingy than he was previously. When you happen to be home, he’ll give you time to relax and decompress from your work. However, once enough time has passed by, he’ll sit beside you and stretch over you. He misses you terribly throughout the day- your text messages are a clear proof of that. Plus, it’s not as if you could blame him. He’s stuck at home all day with only you to talk to, he’s grown heavily dependent on you.

The incident messed him up- it ruined so much of his life. Without you, he’d be without a purpose, without anyone being there to ground him through his panic attacks and depressive episodes. He needs to hear from you, needs to remember that you do still care for him no matter what he looks like. There’s always going to be a part of him that’s terrified of knowing what you think of him. He saw it on your face when he first came by- fear, shock, pity. He isn’t sure what was worse, but then you cried, and you held him. There are times where you’ll kiss at a white space, and he’s fisting his hand together to restrain himself from asking for more. He can’t be greedy- not when he looks the way that he does.

If arguments were few and far in between before he turned out the way that he is, they rarely exist now. He never wants to give you a reason to kick him out. He’ll take a house husband role and clean and cook, and do whatever it is that needs to be done around the house. In the beginning, he acted more as a guest rather than a partner. He made himself small, didn’t eat too much of the food that you brought, he’d shower when you’d leave and would sleep on the couch. Fear kept him on a leash, and he believed that maybe if you didn’t see so much of him, then you wouldn’t leave him when the time came. Whatever it is that you would have asked him to do, he would do a damn good job to prove that he could still be of some use to you. A part of him kept waiting for you to leave him like everyone else had, and when you’d invite him to sleep in your bed, sit down and have dinner with you, shower with you- he was engulfed with waves of emotion. You really did want him to be part of your life, you didn’t want a house guest, you wanted a partner, you wanted him.

You’ll leave your phone unattended, and he’s tempted to look through your messages, to find out what you really think of him. Are you planning to leave him? Are you talking to someone else? Are you making fun of him behind his back as he lays in your bed? He never looks through your phone. He can’t bear what the ugly truth of it might be. Out of all the possibilities, he’d rather take your word that you don't mind him as he is now. You’re the one who goes shopping for the necessities for obvious reasons, and each time you leave through the door, there’s always something heavy in him that tells him that you aren’t going to come back. He waits and waits, and time ticks on slowly as if to mock him, and he’s waiting and waiting. His spots swirl and congest at certain parts of him as his anxiety increases. After sending you a quick text message, you reply immediately- always. And yet, it still isn’t enough. He must annoy you, but he can’t help it. Pressing your contact button, he’ll call you, and he must sound panicked, because you speak quietly, telling him what you’re doing and asking what he’s doing- you ground him. When you come home, he hovers over you and lays his head on your chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

He never wants you to let go of him. He’ll rest his head on your lap, and even if you can’t play with his hair, you still let your nails scratch over him. It’s during these moments, that you let your hands wander, the pads of your fingertips ghosting over him, teasing at his holes, before swiping down and tracing patterns over the white. You like to look at his face hole a lot is what he’s noticed. You’ve told him that even without facial features, he’s still so expressive. His body has been stretched, limbs pulled and torso compressed and while he’s always been soft, it’s much more apparent now. He’ll squirm under your gaze, and make a high-pitched noise when your hand curves over his stomach. Placing kisses over him makes his gasp for breath, especially when you interlace your hand with his and kiss where his moles used to be.

When he first arrived at your place, he was terrified of what you’d think of him. He’d never admit that he feared that you would be like everyone else and turn him away, but you didn’t. For as long as he’ll live, he’ll always try to repay you for your kindness. He can’t take you to dinners, or buy you things, but he can certainly peek into places afterhours. He can pop into places and grab something that he’s sure you’re going to like. For a while, he can lie and say that he had gfs saved up for you, but you start to catch on when reports of robberies start to have their own section in the local news. You give him a pointed look, and he looks the other way, fiddling with one of his holes.

It took a minute for him to get used to your fascination with him. A part of him thought it was some kink thing but when you gasp in fake-offense and shove him, he comes to the conclusion that it isn’t some kink thing. His arm will be outstretched towards you, and you’ll rim the edge of the spot with your finger. If you ever want to dip your finger into one of his holes, he’d rather you tell him first. He doesn’t have complete control over where a hole will pop up and doesn’t know the exact limitations of it, so he worries that he’ll cause some freak accident with you there. When you two cuddle together, and you want something from the kitchen, he’ll make a hole and reach what you want. It doesn’t always go smoothly, but it’s the thought that counts. You’re sure at one point, you saw the inside of a convenience store, but with the plethora of snacks, you chose not to comment, and acted blissfully ignorant when an article of stolen goods popped up.

Due to being lonely and having an immense amount of time to himself, he is much chattier than he was before. He’ll ramble and go on for hours about any of the series that he’s watching. At this point, it’s like you’ve already watched it yourself. He’ll talk about the symbolism and parallels that the characters share, about the use of color, and how things are in reference to another one of the director’s works. It’s nice to see him so animated about something. It’s during his ramblings that his holes will vary in size and numbers. The more emotional he is, the more that they appear, and sometimes, you’ll see one appear under a cup and drop it elsewhere. You’ve been lucky so far that the cups are empty and always land in something soft.

It’s no surprise that he’d rather not step out into public. You’re the one to do the errands and he feels bad that he can’t pull his own weight, but you always reassure him that being there is enough- more than enough. At one point, work must have taken its toll, because you come in near tears, exhausted with the clients and co-workers. You mention how one customer was particularly awful, and he holds you, running his hand up and down your back, trying to comfort you. He can’t be seen out in public with you- he fears what will happen if people know where he’s been hiding out- but he can pop in on others, and make sure that you aren’t bothered again. It’s moments like these where he’s so focused, mind swirling and reflecting on his spots, and there’s precision and accuracy on where he wants spots to appear and reappear. He never wants you to find out about what he’s doing, so he makes sure that the person can’t recount the events and that when they’re found, it looks like they fell down the stairs, body crumpled and bent in ways that can’t be explained. The next day, he makes you breakfast.

It’s not rare to find you in one of his old shirts. Jonathan hardly ever uses them as of late, despite your claims that he should wear something considering he’s just in his skin and practically naked. He never really listens to your claims- it isn’t as if you haven’t seen him naked before, he’s even made himself decent by hiding his shaft. His old clothing might as well get some use, and it makes him feel warm that you still wear his things- it really cements the fact that you still want him. You pull the oversized button up over a plain shirt, and call it fashion, and who is he to argue with your obviously correct statements. There’s something nice about him waking up to you wearing one of his shirts as you cook breakfast, the soft blue color and white spots, making him linger at the doorway. In the time leading up to everything, he had never thought that his life would turn this way- die by an explosion seemed so much more plausible than him becoming what he is. And now, he sits in your shared home, his body pure white and dotted with black spots, and with you, your head on his lap and his nodding off to sleep as you both watch a movie.

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jtl-fics · 1 year

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Fluent Freshman - Part 18

Weirdly enough the only thing that FF can think of as they head down the stairs is the first Saw movie.

That one happened IN a bathroom right? He kind of watched all of them in a row to prepare himself for whatever Andrew might decide to do to him. But he’s near positive that one happened in a bathroom. It was derelict and he didn’t think it really had running water (or did it? Didn’t the guy wake up in a half-full tub? His memory is hazy in his bathroom related desperation and may be trying to protect him from thinking about water).

All leading to the main thought going through his head as he slowly headed down the narrow stairway to his death.

Would Andrew let him use the facilities before he’s handcuffed to a pipe?

The worst part about all of this is that he is not sure if he needs to take a dump or if he just needs to fart, he knows he has to take a piss. He’s read that when you die your body will relax and it’ll all just flow out of you and Nicky gave him these pants so he feels bad but he also does not want to face his death without pants. If he needs to take a shit then they’re definitely going to be absolutely ruined, if it’s a fart well…Andrew can’t kill him any further? He can mutilate his corpse a little but FF won’t be around to experience it.

No matter what he’s definitely going to piss himself. He had way too much water at Sweeties trying to consume the spicy ice cream.

You may be wondering why FF has not run away from his predicament and is walking down these steps without protest or comment or plea for his life.

First of all he is pretty sure that if he makes any sudden movements he will ruin these pants that Nicky bought for him. Second of all Andrew had already told him once that he wouldn’t accept any pleading for mercy he still remembers how he asked Andrew, “Please give me back my pen?” and Andrew had shot him a look that had his stomach cramp and his fingers itch for the bottle sweet pink relief in his backpack.

“I don’t like that word, don’t use it around me.” He said.

FF ever the pragmatic sort, “Which one?” He had asked because he had said a few, “I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding.” He followed up with when Andrew glowered at him only for the glare’s intensity to increase 10 fold.

“Don’t use the first word of your first statement or the last word of your second.” Andrew grit out and got up to leave without a word.

Message received loud and clear Andrew did NOT like words ‘Please’ or ‘Misunderstanding’.

So FF knows that any pleading for mercy would ABSOLUTELY result in Andrew not letting him take a bathroom break before him and Captain Neil make destroying him into a couple activity. The fact that Captain Neil is here is a bit of a shock but maybe Captain Neil has finally gotten the other Freshman Dealer up to snuff.

Maybe Kevin really did want to dissect him to figure out how Strikers keep passing straight to him?

They reach the door at the bottom of the stairs.

Ah, time to face the music.

At least he’d texted Gran that he was going to die when they had gotten into the club and the bathroom had not made itself readily apparent. Sure it was about his current ‘gotta piss / gotta shit’ situation but he’d been wise to keep his cause of death vague in that text.

The door opens and…

This is the NICEST torture chamber FF has EVER seen. (And after his desperation watch of all the Saw movies he has seen quite a FEW)

“Minyard, Josten, and Guest. Table 6 is yours.” A voice comes from the side and when he looks over there’s a man in quite a nice uniform standing behind a soft-lit bar polishing a glass looking every bit like a bar tender at those high-end places you see in movies. He looks around a bit more and there are some other people down here. It’s not quiet per se but it is a comfortable level of noise in comparison to the IQ dropping noise upstairs.

“C’mon Smith.” Andrew juts his chin towards a table in the back.

FF follows but continues to try and fit this nice little room into his world view.

Do these people watch other people get tortured to death for fun on a Friday night? Unlikely considering the upholstery on the booths and chairs looked like it’d stain if blood got on it. Was this perhaps a trafficking location where Andrew would sell off his organs to the highest bidder? He looked at the other patrons who seemed a bit higher class than the general club scene upstairs but not like they had the money to buy one of his kidneys. Maybe-

“Do not tell Nicky about this place, ever.” Andrew says as they slide into the booth. FF nods but can’t help but tilt his head slightly in an unspoken question, “He would absolutely tell any and everyone about it. Eden’s wants to keep this place a secret from the general public.” Andrew explains.

“Nicky currently thinks that there’s a straight swingers club down here.” Captain Neil says with a huff of laughter.

“Eden’s is cool, even though there’s some sick shit in the basement.” Floats through his head again.

What the fuck was a swinger?

His fingers itch for his phone but he’s currently talking with Andrew and Captain Neil so that’d be rude but they’re talking to him like he absolutely knows what a swinger is and he DOES NOT.

“It’s quieter down here. Figured you’d prefer it.” Andrew says as he gets up and heads towards the bar down here where the bartender was aggressively cutting ice chunks.

He and Captain Neil sit in silence for a few seconds before Captain Neil offers him a slight smile, “I know you’d rather be with your grandma and you and Andrew prefer not to say things out loud but we’ve really liked hanging out with you.” Captain Neil says.

????????????????????????????????????????????????

That’s such a nice thing to say to someone.

Especially someone like FF.

Especially especially when they’re planning on killing him?

He hopes his confusion stays off his face as he nods once. “It’s been fun.” It’s not even really a lie. Thanksgiving yesterday had been nice and loud and FF had missed the chaos of a Family Dinner more than he had ever realized. The car ride had been…a time but once he’d asked Andrew to either keep his eyes on the road or let him out Andrew’s hands had stayed at 10 and 2 and the ride had been smooth. Aaron and Nicky’s weight against him had been nice too, a warm memory before he developed a possible life long aversion to whipped cream. He’d gotten to go Black Friday shopping and Captain Neil even helped carry it home for him. Baking bad been nice even if the stress of doing it with his life on the line was less so. The subsequent nap and day spent doing normal college guy things had been…it’d all been nice.

It’s starting to feel like….

“Drink this.” Andrew puts a drink down in front of him.

No Andrew definitely wants his bladder to burst.

“What is it?” He asks instead looking at the creamy looking drink with suspicion.

Andrew rolls his eyes as he hands Neil a fruity looking drink as he sits with what is a few fingers of scotch. “It’s virgin.” Andrew says not answering the question at all and must pick up that FF won’t be drinking it until he gets the full answer because he continues after a moment, “It’s like a Pina Colada but with bananas instead.” Andrew answers.

It’s not that FF hates banana but why in the world would Andrew grab him this? Was it just one of the few virgins options on this place’s fancy menu or-

“Bananas will help get your stomach acid back down.” Andrew says, “Since you’re an idiot and ate that mango ice cream just because you wanted to impress that girl.” He rolls his eyes.

“Impress that girl?” There weren’t any girls at the table and how in the world would him eating that god-forsaken spicy ice cream impress anyone other than Betsy. Even Betsy would only be impressed by the depths he was willing to reach just to avoid what he perceives as an awkward social situation.

“The waitress.” Neil reminds him as if that cleared anything up.

“Yeah,” he says as if he has understood the conversation but he has not. “It was spicy mango.” He says because maybe if he keeps the conversation going he’ll get enough context clues to understand what might be his last conversation.

Andrew let out a huff of laughter and pushed FF’s drink closer to him, “Drink your fancy Banana smoothie Casanova.” He says.

No closer to understanding the conversation he accepts that it might be something that only becomes clear after he sheds his mortal coil and is no longer given a -10 INT debuff by his full bladder and revolting stomach.

He takes a sip.

Oh that’s actually pretty good.

It feels like he can feel it sizzling in his stomach and soothing the discomfort there. Maybe he should look into Banana smoothies as a replacement for what Abby has called a ‘concerning co-dependence’ in regards to Pepto Bismol. No one can put him on a medical watch if it’s just banana smoothies he’s chugging down like they’re going out of style.

“Thanks,” he says, “that was good.” He admits before reaching into his jacket and moving past the Megamind toy and grabbing his wallet. “What do I owe you for that?” He asks.

“We’re even.” Andrew waves away the money.

“You bought the stuff for breakfast, those brownies, and the pie tomorrow.” Neil says and FF blinks surprised to hear that they were talking about the pie he didn’t think he was going to get the chance to make.

“You don’t need to buy a spot with us.” Andrew says and FF leans back slightly at the intensity on Andrew’s face as he says it. “I invited you here because I wanted to. The brownies were good but if you don’t feel like making the pie tomorrow? It’s not like I’m going to drive you back to Palmetto and leave you on Abby’s doorstep.” He says.

FF feels gears start to turn in his head.

“It’s good pie.” He hears himself say.

“I didn’t even know about the pie when I invited you.” Andrew says and…

Andrew and FF sit in silence but honestly it’s not like Andrew’s sharpening his knives. The two of them mostly just do their own work or read. FF has been getting his German literacy up to snuff so that he can read the language when he goes there to visit Nicky’s fiance next year. He likes how serious Andrew is about learning it so that he doesn’t have to ask Captain Neil a thousand questions and it’d be nice if Andrew wasn’t obviously planning on murdering him.

Andrew brings dried apples and sends Captain Neil along with probiotic yogurts to their meetings. Both of those things tend to soothe his stomach and the yogurt that had been unflavored before was now vanilla which he liked a fair bit. It would have been a really nice gesture if it wasn’t for the fact that Andrew was making fun of his tummy troubles.

Andrew will put his foot down in practice sometimes when Kevin is getting too demanding wanting to know exactly how FF intercepted his passes to Neil. Kevin always backs off and Andrew will do the same when Jack starts to get a little too personal in his attacks at FF or when Sheena decides she’s going to be a bitch. It’d be nice if it wasn’t Andrew staking his claim that he was the one who was going to make FF’s life miserable.

Andrew drove FF around for an hour after Greg had shown up. He found out later from one of his friends that Andrew had threatened Greg after he had power walked away into the building. Andrew had driven him around and had only started heading towards the tower when FF had relaxed. It would have been nice if Andrew wasn’t trying to lure him into a false sense of security.

Andrew had invited him to his Family’s house over Thanksgiving when the bad storm had ruined his Thanksgiving plans. Andrew had threatened Jack to stop him from eating his Grandma’s pie and complaining about it. Andrew had stopped messing around with Captain Neil when FF had made it clear he was uncomfortable being in a car where the driver wasn’t paying attention to the road. Andrew had twice made him go to bed in the last couple hours.

It’d be nice if…

“We’ve really liked hanging out with you” Captain Neil had said.

Andrew was just trying to be nice.

Embarrassment rolls over him like a wave but FF has many years of pretending like he’s not going to die from embarrassment, “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll still probably make the pie tomorrow.” He offers.

Andrew’s eyes change slightly and FF is under the impression that he’s happy to hear that.

“Just enjoy your drink Smith.” Andrew says.

FF does go back to sipping his drink and letting more and more memories of things Andrew had done come to him and lets his embarrassment grow.

He finishes his drink and only then realizes that he is a code red in terms of bladder capacity. The new knowledge that this is not a torture chamber but in fact yet another overture of friendship from Andrew paired with his desperation finally loosens the question from his mouth, “Where’s the bathroom here?” He asks.

“There isn’t one downstairs but just head up stairs and hug the wall to the left.” Captain Neil answers.

“Bring your phone. If Frank doesn’t recognize you to let you back in.” Andrew reminds him.

FF nods and heads out of the club and up the stairs.

He might be doing a bit of a potty dance so he forces himself to become unnoticeable because he does not need cool people at a cool club to see him about to piss himself. Once he enters into a stealth mode that the United States Military would like to talk to him about he hugs the wall and nearly cries tears of relief when he sees a door labelled MEN.

He doesn’t think about the possibility of letting up on stealth mode because he is sure that he is about to make a face that he does NOT want any human being to see when he unzips his pants and starts to take the world’s most life-affirming piss on the planet.

As his bladder empties his brain is able to process the understanding that he had come to down in the basement he had thought would be his final resting place.

Andrew has been trying to be nice (and succeeding it was all so nice! He feels like an asshole! He is an asshole! Gran always told him that assuming makes an Ass out of U and Me. He had just thought it was funny grandma humor not valuable life advice!)

The night wasn’t going to end with Andrew’s knife in his stomach, it was probably just going to end with Nicky puking on his shoes (which is fine because these are the shoes Nicky was letting him borrow for the club anyways, they’re his shoes to puke onto.)

A secondary relief fills his system. His stomach, soothed by the Banana smoothie and now this, feels like it might actually let him live through the night.

While FF was distracted with a piss that would have made any number of cult leaders jealous with the number of divine revelations he was experiencing he failed to notice a second man enter the bathroom.

There was a reason that FF always ALWAYS became noticeable when he was at a urinal and the man who came to the urinal right next to him was showcasing that VERY reason.

He was trapped here for at least ten more seconds and he could hear the man grumbling distractedly but didn’t really pay it too much attention until…

“Fucking Wesninski Brat.” He grumbled under his breath.

Oh god dammit.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

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@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear

#Fluent Freshman AU #FINALLY CAN PUT DOWN MY TAGS #You have no idea the number of times that I had to sing hollaback girl to myself during this #It was B-A-N-A-N-A-S #We have now closed the 'Andrew is going to crazy murder me' emotional arc #The 'Oh god if Andrew or Neil find out that I know Russian they're going to stop being my friends and hate me' arc begins #He's gotten a confirmed 3 friends today #And he got to go to the bathroom #He's riding a high #Not only is it 3 friends it is 3 friends who like him enough to invite him to spend the holiday break together #That's so nice #Andrew is so nice #FF cannot BELIEVE he thought Andrew 'eat these dried apples' Minyard was going to stab him #Captain Neil is lucky to have him #Also Andrew is lucky to have Captain Neil #Neil and Andrew are definitely down in the Speakeasy right now enjoying FF's bathroom break #Andrew's ordered FF another round of Banana daiquiri #Andrew: I can't believe he ate that ice cream. His stomach must have been killing him.#Neil: Yeah he was really pale and sweaty until he started drinking that banana drink #Neil: I'm a little worried about Smith finding the bathroom. Maybe I should go up?#Andrew hand on Neil's thigh: he'll be fine. We can go look if he's not back in 10.#AFTG AU #AFTG OC #AFTG #AFTG Shitpost #AFTG Fic #My Fic #Andreil #FF - Pt.18

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