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#I got many asks about him and his fanbase that I haven't replied to
beautifulpersonpeach · 8 months
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You haven't answered my other V ask so you might be wanting to move on from this topic but I just have to ask. Don't you find 10 million USD on album sales excessive?? I'm talking about V's fanbase by the way. Isn't that money amount obscene to believe? Not to sound too conspiracy minded Peachy, but how can a kpop fanbase raise that amount of money? Can they do that through legal means or should sane people be worried? Also don't you think armys are acting irresponsible wasting that money on albums that they don't use when they could be using it for charity instead? I really respect your thoughts so I'm hoping to read your reply. Thank you in advance Peachy.
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So... you're asking me how a fandom that raised $1 million USD in 24 hours for a Black Lives Matter charity with zero notice btw, how the fandom that raised $100,000 USD in hours for charity in Megan Thee Stallion's name, can raise $10 million USD over a three-year period for albums?
It's basic arithmetic, is it not?
I guess it seems like a lot of money for someone uninformed on just how big the k-pop market is and on how much k-pop fans typically spend on comebacks (note: solo fanbase funds for Seventeen and Stray Kids easily exceeded $15 million USD this year, and it's reflected in their album sales). Also, I'm not sure how long you've been following me Anon, but when I talk about the size of ARMY fandom in absolute numbers, when we discuss things like fandom dynamics that replicate those seen in political systems, or insane ticketing rituals that are more complicated than those used by the Bey-hive, and merch prices etc, what scale exactly, are you picturing when I mention these things?
ARMYs are a lot of people. Lol I'm not sure you understand. And many ARMYs in my circle are working professionals and audiophiles who didn't blink when it came up in conversation that I've spent > $45,000 on speakers. Not trying to be a bitch, but I do think it's important context to know the demographics of the fandom, and to know most ARMYs just buy one or a few albums for themselves. Those with the means carry the bulk of the donations, however ARMYs huge absolute numbers also mean even micro-transactions or donations from people who perhaps cannot afford more, are several magnitudes more than in other k-pop fandoms. The ARMY fandom is literally constantly growing, and that's why BigHit can realistically stagger seven solo debuts in a one-year period and all seven artists will still outperform active k-pop groups.
"Also don't you think armys are acting irresponsible wasting that money on albums that they don't use when they could be using it for charity instead?"
I'm not sure I like your tone here. (1) Because it's pretty clear ARMYs can damn well do what they want with their money. It's incredibly patronizing to presume to know what other fans individually value or to dictate how you think other people should spend their own money, to presume nobody here can think for themselves to know what and how best to spend their earned income. We're in a hobby space, anyone who's already opened a fan account/blog is already in too deep no point sugarcoating it. We're here because we want to be and are getting something we still deem worthwhile for our own pleasure. So what if we spend whatever the fuck we want on our hobbies as within what we deem as appropriate? And (2) ARMYs already and comfortably do both. There's no k-pop fandom that's as heavily involved in charitable causes as ARMY. Take it from someone who's been around. Do you think mobilizing a fandom of hundreds of thousands of people to raise $1 million in 24 hours would be possible if that culture and the fundraising channels didn't already exist?
And this was before Dynamite. Before 60% of the fandom that's already here, joined.
The only place I agree with you, is in that a solo fanbase was so involved and could raise that amount of money in the first place. Because giving influence to solos is just a recipe for disaster. In my experience, akgaes are just fundamentally less intelligent people. Akgaes and solo stans or people who lean towards solo stanning (not including casual fans), are also more reactionary and impulsive, verbally/emotionally abusive, paranoid and prone to conspiratorial thinking. These are people with nearly zero ordered thinking skills and unwavering tunnel vision. They won't think twice about applying blatantly illegal methods or acting rashly if it means getting the result they want. If there's ever a massive scandal on the fandom or BTS, I can almost guarantee you it will be because an akgae fucked up or went too far. Also, I'm actually not certain all the funds raised by Taehyung's fanbase did so through legal means. That's what I mean about solo stans. Too many of them are literally just that stupid. And I mean, just by virtue of being a C-bar, it's fairly common for some bars to be linked to members of wealthy/political families in China and SEA. There's only ever been rumours, but it wouldn't surprise if it were true that some money involved was made by illegal means.
Which is one reason I hold on to my hope that people will refrain from partnering with solos, regardless of how things evolve for BTS, but given the way things are going, by 2026 the fandom will likely be a 65 : 35 ARMY : solo ratio, from what I assume to be 90 : 10 now. It's kinda bleak actually. But it is what it is.
Jikook will still be jikooking anyway and the music will still be dope. So BTS and HYBE will keep getting my money.
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g-xix · 5 months
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Hi! I saw you were talking about the Dream situation and wanted to put in my 2¢. (I saw you explain why you wouldn't watch the video and 100% agree so if you want to ignore this ask go right ahead o7)
Dream made some good points in his video. And some... less good ones. Almost all of his evidence is a) just his word, b) conversation logs that he typed himself in pastebin or c) statements supposedly from a victim but without any proof that it's actually them. Even the more sturdy evidence, the snapchat data, has been edited and cropped. Not a lot of hard evidence, and not enough for me to have a definitive opinion. (and I have to say, seeing how much he lied about the speedruning stuff does NOT make me believe he would just admit to sexting minors if it was true)
One thing I definitely have an opinion on, is the racist edits and comments he made in the past few years. Defending the use of the r slur, the cultural appropriation/ disrespecting Native American culture, plus all the sex jokes he made about his minor friends. And then the way he's aware his community regularly harasses and doxes people he respond to, and not only haven't stopped (even in the video), but said he found it "satisfying." All of that was in the last few years, and none of it have been addressed.
And, I don't know if he groomed anyone. But he clearly was messaging several fans of his (huge power imbalance), when they were minors and he was an adult, on SNAPCHAT. Like, that's not something responsible to do?
There's more but I think I've made my point. If he did it, I hope his victims get justice. If he didn't, good! Less suffering in the world. But I do not and will never like him or his fans
Ayup
YESSS THANKU! I think in my first post ab "wtf is happening w Dream n allat atm?" I asked whether there's plausible evidence, and this answers that, so big thanks.
Context is suuuuper important when giving evidence and proofing your argument, and the fact that supposedly he's been cropping his without context does undermine his ethos which i assume he tried to create with these message logs. And yeah, his credibility would definitely only further reduced by previous lies told like that Speed-running one
And the racist jokes, I haven't seen before tbh but something tells me if i saw them i'd probs also agree is very morally fuking weird from him.
I think talking to fans online asw is just a big no, now especially. Like, we've been through so many "x is found for messaging minors on Twitter/snap/blahblahblah", i think it's safe to say that creators will just interact with their fanbases waaay less on a personal level - which is an interesting mix of good-riddance, and a bit sad, considering lots of editors or YouTubers are given a platform through interacting with their favourite creators, i.e. Ranboo, who got a reply from Philza in the DMs abt one of his first MC vids, which kinda helped him keep creating
(Not sure if that makes much sense, but j so that it's v v v clear - I do not support messaging minors sexually - that's fucking weird and a BIG no-go!)
But specifically using that power imbalance when messaging fans, particularly to get something out of them is fundamentally wrong - especially when it is (as accused) for sexual purposes. Like, c'mon, just date someone in your age group? Is it really that hard to pull someone your own age?
Yeah, cheers for the Xtra fyi's, anon 👍
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wastelandcth · 3 years
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In the Mountains - cth
summary: who would've thought hiking with the boys would have ended up being so eventful? as the fifth member of 5sos with a crush on a certain bass player, you’re about to find out. 
author’s notes: thanks to @calumspupils for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy it!
masterlist || request
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You didn't really know how you'd gotten to this point in your life. How you had ended up in a band with four people you'd give the world to, it all still seemed like a fever dream. Most mornings you'd wake up either on a tour bus or in a hotel room miles from home wondering if this was your real-life and it wasn't until you were sat at breakfast with your bandmates that you realized how grateful you were for the twists and turns that had led to your crazy life.
Some days you'd play shows and feel like you were on top of the world, rocking out on stage with your best friends. Some nights the views from the airplanes you'd grown used to being on took your breath away for so long you were afraid you'd actually imagined it all. That all the cameras flashing and fans screaming out lyrics you'd written with the four guys on stage next to you were a figment of your imagination and you'd wake up one day to find it all gone.
"Hey, I know you don't love hiking but...I'm sure we'll make it fun," Calum's voice rang out in the car, bringing you back to the moment at present, "And I'll be there to tell you all the jokes and point out cool rocks," he said with a wink.
Calum Hood. You'd turned your head to face him, the California sun was hitting his skin and making him glow. His bright smile adorning his face as the sunglasses he was wearing slid down his nose to reveal those brown eyes you'd fallen for. His soft voice and gentle teasing bringing warmth to your stomach that always seem to linger whenever you two were alone. It was something that you thought you'd kept to yourself, a little secret, but the comments online only left you a blushing mess.
If you were being honest, you'd been in love with Calum since the first months you'd spent with the band, getting to know each other and making sure you'd be a good fit into the group. those weeks had been filled with outings together where all five of you would spend hours on end telling stories about growing up and then laughing over how the internet blew up when they introduced you to their fanbase. But those few weeks were also spent trying your best to not make a fool of yourself in front of Calum, who seemed to always be at the right place whenever you stumbled or when your voice would crack while you were practicing alone.
You two had clicked instantly, both stuck to each other's hip as you took on the world. You'd write together, spending hours on a couch drafting out possible songs and humming along to tracks that had potential in matching the band's sound. You'd even become neighbors at one point when you'd first moved into the city to be closer for band work. He'd helped you move into the apartment next to his and you'd spent many weekends at each other's place, laughing over the awkward silences when you'd both caught each other glancing for a few seconds too long.
So you were in love with your bandmate, your best friend, with Calum Hood. How bad could it be?
Apparently, very bad. You and Calum had never been the subtle type and although you both pretty much knew there was more than friendship between you two, no one made a move to make it more. Ashton had asked you once when you two had gone out for lunch after a studio session.
"I just can't understand why you two haven't already gotten over it and got together. You'd thought about it, he's thought about it. Just do it," Ashton huffed, shaking his head as he watched you tense up and shake your head.
"The band is what's important, Ash. We can't let our feelings get in the way of fucking up what all five of us have created. He knows that and I do too," you'd replied, laughing quietly as Ashton only shook his head and mumbled something under his breath.
But Ashton was always one to try and make others happy in his own special way. And that's how you found yourself in the car with Calum on the way out of the city for a hike you were less than excited about. You knew Ashton was up to something when he'd texted the group saying that you and Calum would have to drive to the trail together since you wouldn't fit in his car with Luke, Mike, and their partners. As a form of payback, you'd purposefully told Calum to pick you up thirty minutes after the original time to make sure you were the last ones to get there because there was nothing more than Ashton hated than being late. And that's how you found yourself driving out of the city with Calum, lost in your own head over how beautiful he looked.
"Mhm, you always make things fun," you chuckled and winked back at him, "We're gonna need it especially now that we're late and Ashton will definitely kill us."
The hike had gone surprisingly good considering three of you were not the most athletics and Luke and Michael had constantly been racing seeing who could go the farthest faster. Ashton had tried his best to keep everyone on track until you and Calum had teased him about being the mom friend as he'd set up his phone on a rock to shoot an update video for fans to let them know about the band had been up to. It had all been going according to plan until you moved closer to Calum and twisted your ankle, ending up on the floor staring up at the blue sky.
"Oh my god, I'm going to die. Just leave me here to die because I'm not making it," you cried out, "This is the end of me!"
In a matter of seconds since your back had hit the ground, four familiar faces hovered above you, one of them looking more concerned than the others. The pain shot through your spine and down your leg, your eyes closing as you tried to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. Soon enough you found yourself being lifted up from the ground and a warm body pressed against your back. You could hear all the guys fighting over what to do, which meant your ankle wasn't twisted backward since none of them had screamed or puked their guts out. Their voices all mumbled into one as you breathed through the pain and it wasn't until Calum's warm breath was hitting your ear that you felt yourself take a deep breath in and open your eyes.
"I'm gonna stay here with you until Ash and the others can get a ranger to bring a car or something like that, okay?" he mumbled softly, his hand rubbing at your back as he helped you sit back against a rock.
"Please don't let my leg fall off, I need it to run on stage and to kick Michael when he steals my food," you whined.
"That's not gonna happen, okay? I think you just twisted it and it's all going to be okay, sweet girl," Calum mumbled and kissed your forehead, "Promise."
The sun was still high in the sky by the time you started thinking Ashton had left you both in the desert. You'd both been sitting on the ground together, watching as  your ankle grew and grew in size as the time passed by. The pain had dulled and your head was resting on his shoulder when your brain had started to think of the worst.
"You know, this wouldn't have happened if you were Australian. Us Aussies are known for our athleticism," Calum chuckled as he nudged your side with his elbow, "It's a well-known fact."
"I can do a better Australian accent than all four of you," you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you smacked his thigh, "And I can outrun pretty much all of you except Ash."
"Except right now."
"Calum Hood, I swear if you don't stop making fun of me-"
"What? Are you gonna hit me again? I dare you-"
You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the heat of the sun beaming down on you both. Or maybe the fact that you were thirsty since Michael had taken the only backpack with water with him before you two realized it but Calum's lips looked very nice and it took no self-restraint for you to lean in and stop him mid-sentence.
"Maybe you should twist your ankle more often, huh?" Calum chuckled as you both pulled away, "Or bully you more often."
"Shut up and kiss me again, idiot," you laughed and pulled him back in for another kiss.
"Who knew all I had to do was get you two alone on a hiking trail for you to finally kiss, huh?" Ashton's chuckled made you both pull away, making you both look like a deer caught in headlights.
"Oh shut up, I'm never going on a hike with any of you again," you huffed and gratefully took the park ranger’s hand as he helped you on to what looked like a golf car.
It was a short trip back to the medical center, where they treated your very swollen ankle with ice while you downed all the water you could get your hands on. But you were grateful that Calum hadn't left your side once, his hand in yours as you squeezed it whenever you'd hit a bump or when the park ranger wrapped your ankle. His hand was still in yours as you both drove back to the city and it never left yours even when you both laid on the couch in his living room that night, drifting off in each other's company for once accepting that maybe, just maybe, this could be more than just stolen glances.
taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop  @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash @notinthesameguey
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emmadoodlewrites · 2 years
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Just got hit with the “I’m not mad just disappointed” card /hj. Can I ask what some of Ranboo’s fans are doing?
discourse under the cut
Basically, Ranboo's fanbase on Twitter were rather mean to Dream when he came out as unlabeled queer, but when Ranboo did the same they showed nothing but support. Dream's fanbase has been attempting to call them out on it but people haven't been listening since the gate for dream is too big. There's been many threads showing screenshots of large bootwt accounts being homophobic
Last night Ranboo made a joke tweet that he "cured" homophobia, all while his fanbase has been incredibly homophobic to Dream, so people quoted his tweet to call him out on it. Now of course I agree there's not a lot Ranboo can do, just like Dream can't do anything about harassment, but when Ranboo saw everything the next morning, he made a rather tone deaf reply just saying he's allowed to make gay jokes, and completely disregarded what his fans have been doing. It's just a sad situation :( No hate to Ranboo btw, I'm sure this is difficult to deal with
Also this is just hearsay, but apparently there was also a bootwt account that posted a fake screenshot of Dream saying he was straight, which was taken down very quickly. I don't know for sure if it's true since obviously people don't want fake info spread, but that's also something going on with Ranboo's fanbase.
If anyone want links or screenshots of threads or Ranboo's reply just dm me
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russdoc · 7 years
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Post-Gorillaz: Russ and Murdoc live together & haven't come out to the rest of the band. They want to get married but both have cold feet for different reasons. Murdoc gets Russel a cat to help them out of the slump. Russ thinks this is shitty manipulation at first BUT they both become more affectionate w the cat and thus each other, letting them both be more vulnerable and able to work through the issues they were having. (Bonus if one of them proposes 👀 )
Holy shit it’s finally done!!! I’m so sorry for the long wait. I had a lot of ideas for this fic but they didn’t exactly pan out like I wanted, so this fic is shorter than I had in mind. I hope you can forgive me. Expect a part two, though. So I guess it isn’t exactly done. I lied. Oh well.
Going Steady, 6.8k, Post-Gorillaz, established relationship, domestic fluff and a kitty cat uwu. also on ao3!!!
They knew they were done.
The four had silently agreed on splitting, but there was still hesitation. They were still clinging to the slightest possibility that maybe there was still something to their band. That this wasn’t it for them. But it was, and they knew it. Someone just had to say it.
The meeting wasn’t going anywhere. They were sluggish and couldn’t get anything done. None of them wanted to be here. It was merely an obligation at this point.
Noodle had arrived late and tried to compensate by being the first to propose new ideas. She suggested that the band go on another tour. She said it like that, “the band”. Like it wasn’t them anymore. It was some distant, abstract concept separate from them. The band. No longer their band.
Russel shook his head and countered that the last time they had done something like that their creative drive flatlined. He instead suggested that they try something new and experimental. It had always worked in the past.  
Stuart, who was anxiously pacing up and down the room, wasn’t pleased with this alternative. He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at Russel. He asked what else there was for them to try. What genre had they not met? Zombie pop was quite literally dead.
The argument didn’t even have any passion in it. No energy in their voices. Nobody bothered to offend or defend. They were just going through the motions. Waiting for everyone to take their turn so they could call the meeting to a close.
The three turned to Murdoc. He wasn’t making eye contact with any of them, keeping his gaze firmly on his boots. The tension thickened as the silence grew, and everyone felt their hearts catch in their throats when Murdoc eventually lifted his head. The first person he looked to was Russel. Something moved between them, and Russel nodded weakly in reply. Murdoc then looked at Noodle and Stuart who jumped slightly at his somber expression. Murdoc sighed, then folded his arms on the table.
“We should break up.”  
They collectively sighed in relief.
 Life was good after Gorillaz.
They had agreed to split it four ways evenly, despite Murdoc’s insistence on receiving forty percent. Luckily Russel had convinced him to settle for about twenty five. The fans were quite upset, though there was a minority that were certain it was a hoax. There was no way Gorillaz could be done for good. They’d be back in a week. No doubt. For sure.  
Noodle recovered surprisingly easily from the separation. She quickly established her presence on social media, posting regularly and even going so far as starting a vlogging channel where she updated her fans on her travels. Her fanbase was very passionate; sending hundreds of fanarts her way daily, demanding merchandise and even a solo album. Noodle practically had her own brand a little over six months since the band’s breakup. The spotlight really was Noodle’s home.
Stuart’s venture didn’t go over so well. He had set up a very informal Soundcloud account and begun to post his own music on it. The account soon gained attention, and overnight it became flooded with over-enthusiastic fans. It overwhelmed Stuart and, accompanied by many apologies, he deleted the account. He decided that maybe it was too early after Gorillaz to jump back into the music scene, and chose to spend his time quietly in his hometown instead. He took over the funfair from his mother with a smile on his face. Stuart’s social life consisted mostly of his employees, who had to constantly contain their awe from working with a former pop heartthrob, and occasional exchanges with his former bandmates online. He was much more restful these days.
Murdoc and Russel had both moved to Tesuque, New Mexico together and resided in a double storey house near town.  
Unlike Stuart and Noodle’s impressions, it wasn’t under platonic means.  
Ironically enough, the only people who understood that Russel and Murdoc had settled into a very romantic, secure and committed relationship were their strange neighbors who hadn’t recognized them as former members of Gorillaz.  
They were the ones who would see Murdoc, wearing nothing but his briefs and crocodile-themed slippers, greet Russel with a kiss on the cheek before he left for work each morning. For two grown men still very much in the dark about their relationship, they weren’t subtle. To them, they were just another middle aged couple living on a pension and spending their golden, domestic years in New Mexico.  
Russel had gone back to his roots and opened his own record shop in town. In its early days, fans had come swarming in waves to the shop. They were all clamouring to find out what exactly had happened to Gorillaz and even bought records for answers, but Russel wouldn’t cave. Eventually, less and less came to see Russel (though there are peaks in the latter halves of the month), which suited him just fine.
He didn’t need any of that typical post-fame shit to make him feel what he did with Gorillaz was valid.  
The quiet life which involved selling jazz records and coming home to your boyfriend who wanted to marathon Golden Girls or I Love Lucy and then falling asleep on the sofa was something Russel was very fond of.  
What Murdoc was doing during the day, Russel had no clue.
Once, he had come home to find Murdoc drenched and digging in all of his jeans he had in his closet. “River, pig, ticket,” was all that Murdoc had let on.  
There was another time when Russel drove up to the driveway to find Murdoc mooning a group of fans with cameras. Russel apologised and asked for the pictures not to be leaked while Murdoc was sent to sleep on the sofa that night.
Other times, he had found Murdoc on the roof. He didn’t know how Murdoc got up there, and neither did Murdoc.
Sometimes Murdoc would randomly visit Russel at work, for no apparent reason beyond watching him work, correct his Spanish with a giggle and, if they were lucky, to fool around in the back.  
Other than that, Russel didn’t really know what Murdoc got up to.
But there was one thing Russel was always certain of, one thing he could depend on at the end of the day; he would come home, take off his shoes at the door and climb into bed. Murdoc would soon be at the foot end, lift the blankets and crawl his way to cuddle up next to Russel. Murdoc would kiss Russel’s fingers and ask him about his day, and Russel would yawn and tell him that they’d talk about it tomorrow morning. Then they’d kiss one last time before going to sleep. It was guaranteed.  
Some nights, Murdoc would lay awake and watch Russel sleep, listen to him breathe and squeeze his hand when prompted to. He would sit up and realize that he really did love Russel, and that he knows Russel loves him too. That if someone had told him that he’d be living with Russel, as his boyfriend, in New Mexico a little over two years ago, he would’ve laughed and shut the door in their face. He felt the thrill of living like this - that before he would’ve thought was ridiculous because genuinely, he didn’t think he’d ever have this - crawl up his spine and warm his face with a blush he was grateful was obscured by the dark. This was the most secure, the most sure he had felt about something since… since, well, Gorillaz. Then Murdoc pulled back, because what if it turned out just like that.  
What if he thought he was sure it’d last, but then Russel got sick of him? It wouldn’t be the first time. What if just the thought scared Russel off? What if he was the only one willing? What if Russel wasn’t ready for this? What if he wasn’t ready for this? He could barely tell Noodle and
Stuart that he was in a relationship with Russel in the first place, so how was he supposed to go down on one knee and ask for something as scary as marriage from Russel? It made Murdoc restless.  
He couldn’t sleep, and he would tug and pull at Russel’s arm until it was laying across his chest and then hugged it with a heavy sigh. This woke Russel up, and he shifted to pull Murdoc into a proper cuddle and Murdoc was so close to a sob escaping his throat. He held onto Russel and waited until Russel was snoring against his fringe and wasn’t it just the loveliest snore he had ever heard.  
Murdoc knew he wanted this - making him and Russel official, and screw whatever anti-capitalist new wave shite he had carried in his early 20s because he loved Russel too much to care about the preppy ethics surrounding marriage to care -  but that maybe it was too big of a gesture. Murdoc was one to be a little… much. He had to start with something small. Something to ease them into it. Something that showed Russel that he loved him. That he wanted to start somewhere.  
 Russel exhausted himself from exhausting his patience with his newest employee, who was very anxious yet genuinely well-meaning on their first day. He had dismissed them early and closed the store on his own at the end of the day.  
On the drive back home Russel had really hoped for a smoke and a cuddle on the balcony while the night was still warm. What he got instead was a very suspicious Murdoc leaning against the kitchen counter forcing a toothy smile. He cupped his cheek with his hand and rested the other on his hip in a manner he knew Russel found endearing, so Russel could tell there was something up.  
“Hola, honey,” Murdoc greeted coolly. Russel placed his bags by the doorway and kicked off his shoes, all while squinting at Murdoc. “Uh… hi.”
Murdoc dropped his hand from his cheek and drummed his fingers on the countertop. “How was your day?” Russel quirked a brow as he straightened his shirt. “Um, fine. What’s up with you?”
Russel moved slowly over to Murdoc, who exaggerated his shrugging. Russel noticed the way he kept glancing at the hallway, as if something was going to suddenly appear if he wasn’t looking.
“What? What do you mean? I’m fine too! I spent my day - actually, you know how you said we shouldn’t have any pets just yet?”
Russel lifted his head slightly, eyeing Murdoc curiously. “Yeah. We don’t exactly have the living situation for it - not to mention the money. And the neighbours would constantly be on our case. Plus we don’t really have the time to take care of-”
There was a thud, and before Russel could turn all of his attention to the hallway, a black blur had ran across the floor to then bolt up the stairs. Russel stared, incredulous, at Murdoc who kept his gaze on his boots and scratched the back of his head nervously.  
“So, uh,” Murdoc looked up at Russel with a weak smile, “I sort of got us a cat.”
“Oh, my God, Murdoc.” Russel crossed his arms with his mouth agape and his eyes wide. “Are you serious? We can’t have a cat! And you didn’t even bother to tell me beforehand! I canno-”
“-okay, okay,” Murdoc brought his hands up in defense, “before you get mad at me, can we first find it? The cat, that is. It, er, kinda leaped out of it’s crate as soon as I opened it. I’m scared it’s gonna ruin all our curtains if it’s not caught in time.”
Russel huffed and his frown deepened. He chewed on his fuming anger along with his lip, then sighed and his shoulders sagged. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He rationalized that he could always yell at Murdoc later, and that maybe a run-in with a cat would better his day, even in this situation.  
“Okay, fine. We’ll look for the cat-” “-yay-!” “-and then we’re returning it.” Murdoc frowned and his hands dropped down to his sides. “Oh.”
They looked everywhere in that house. Downstairs, upstairs, bathrooms, bedroom, spare rooms, kitchen, living room, balcony - they checked every nook and cranny. They double-checked. Russel had closed all of the windows and Murdoc made sure the front and back doors were shut. They took a break on the stairs, out of breath and ideas.  
“I still can’t believe you bought a cat.”
“I thought you liked cats-”
“-I do! And I would have liked to know we were getting one!”
“I just wanted to surprise you.”
“I would have told you if I liked surprises.”
Murdoc, frustrated and embarrassed all at once, pursed his lips in thought. He knocked his knees and laced his fingers together. With a shy expression, he turned to look at Russel. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. I just thought that maybe it would’ve been nice to surprise you. It wasn’t. My bad.”
Eventually, Russel returned Murdoc’s look with a raised brow. “I think that was the quickest you’ve ever apologised for anything, ever.”
“Shut up!” Murdoc chuckled and weakly nudged Russel, and left his hand to linger on his upper arm. He looked past Russel, his body becoming rigid and focused. “Don’t move…” he whispered, and Russel couldn’t help but glance at his side.
What he saw was a black, curly-haired, warm cat settling itself along the arch of his shoulder. Very timidly, it looked at Russel with its bug eyes. Russel’s heart swelled and he felt himself radiate affection. The cat was an older Devon Rex.
“You said they were your favorite,” Murdoc explained as he leaned in to watch said cat paw at Russel’s shirt. “The people at the shelter said they were very friendly but I had no idea…”  
The cat’s tail curled and its head tilted in fascination at the thick fabric, and Russel couldn’t help but be absolutely smitten. The two sat in awe as the cat made itself at home on Russel’s shoulder. Eventually, Russel sighed and caved. “Okay, we can keep her.”
Murdoc’s face lit up but soon became confused. “She?”
“You didn’t know?” Murdoc shrugged. Russel would have laughed, but the slightest movement would disturb the cat. Russel moved his arm as an experiment, but the cat didn’t budge. He shared a knowing look with Murdoc. “Maybe we should uh, move her before she runs off again.”
 The cat had decided to sleep in one of the spare rooms. And eat. And…relieve itself.  
No matter what they did, the cat wouldn’t move. If they pushed any further, the cat would hiss and claw until they ran from the fight. It was the third day after her arrival that Murdoc flailed his arms and groaned in defeat as soon as Russel came through the door.  
“That’s it! The cat hates us!” Murdoc cried and gripped fistfuls of his hair. Russel smirked as he placed the two brands of cat food on the kitchen counter. They had a disagreement on what exactly the cat they had owned for less than a week would prefer to eat the day before.
Murdoc jutted his finger against the bag, purposefully aiming for the cat’s face on the cover art. “Do you see that pussy? That’s a happy pussy. Doesn’t give a fuck about nutrients because it’s eating a delicious turkey and chicken combo! Not some bland crap!”
Russel, disgusted, reluctantly throws the bag into the shopping cart. “Fine, but you’re cleaning up the shit storm.”
Russel patted Murdoc’s back. “She doesn’t hate you; she’s just anxious. She’s only been with us for three days, Muds.” Murdoc crossed his arms and pouted, then rested himself against Russel with a heavy sigh. “It feels like ten years.”
As usual, they offered a bowl of food, a bowl of water and fresh blankets, but to no avail. The cat curled up in the corner and waited for them to leave, which they did with a shared upset. They returned to their room and tucked themselves in bed for the night. They tried to convince each other that it’d work out better tomorrow.
Murdoc shook Russel awake and whispered frantically “Russel! Look! Look!” Russel, groggy, did so, albeit reluctantly, and what he saw made him gasp audibly. Sitting straight and proper at the foot end of the bed was the cat. She moved cautiously from her seat toward Russel, and carefully perched herself on his belly.  
“See, she likes you ,” Murdoc whispered, annoyed. Russel smirked as he glanced at Murdoc. “As she should.”  
The two continued to wait for the cat to possibly jump off and return to her room, but she didn’t. Russel, on a whim, lifted his hand and combed his fingers through her fur. She purred.  
“She’s so warm,” Russel said, which prompted Murdoc to pet her, too. It was true. They laid there, amazed at how she went from seemingly despising them to now revelling in their attention. It wasn’t as if they were going to complain, though.  
If it wasn’t for her eyes staring fondly at them both, Russel wouldn’t be able to spot her at night with how dark her coat was. She was beautiful.  
“You never told me her name.”
“Oh, right.”  
Murdoc took a moment to think, then turned to Russel and deadpan answered, “Princess Buster.”
Russel was about to call Murdoc’s bluff, but then the cat confirmed this by turning herself to Murdoc as if on command. “No way,” Russel breathed. Murdoc grinned and then scratched the back of Buster’s ear as a reward. She seemed pleased with this as she leaned into his touch.
After a beat of silence, Russel quipped “I can’t believe we have royalty on our hands,” which made Murdoc snort. They were too distracted watching their welcomed pet sleep to catch up on their own that night.
 Princess Buster very easily made herself a part of the household. She slept in Murdoc and Russel’s bed despite having her own, rubbed herself against all of the furniture, got a side of each dish designated for her, and felt more than comfortable demanding attention from her owners.
Russel had questioned exactly why Murdoc had gotten them a pet. He was very suspicious at first - Murdoc must have done something bad if he was going to soften Russel with a cat. But Russel couldn’t help but find Murdoc’s intentions genuine when he groomed, fed and played with Buster on the regular daily. Russel’s ever increasing affection toward Princess, which involved petting her whenever she climbed into his lap and gleefully greeting her whenever he returned home also helped, he supposed.
Russel never felt so… delighted at seeing Murdoc walk into his store than when he had Princess Buster in tow. Not more, just different.  
Princess had easily jumped onto the counter, much to Russel’s astonishment. “She missed you,” Murdoc explained. Russel cocked a brow. “Okay,” Murdoc scratched the back of his head, a grin on his face, “ we missed you.”
The new employee, Alex, held her palm out for Princess, who gladly sniffed and rubbed her face against it. “She’s very friendly,” Alex said, continuing to comb her fingers through Princess Buster’s hair. “Oh yeah,” Russel smirked, “it’s this guy you gotta look out for.” Russel gestured to Murdoc with his thumb, and Murdoc played into the tease by mocking a hiss and a claw. Alex snorted.
“Guess it’s true what they say then, eh?” she jested, but it made Russel and Murdoc slightly frown. “What do they say?” Murdoc asked carefully, squinting at the lanky girl.
Alex shrugged. “You know, how old married couples get cats when they’re tired of each other. Guess it’s time to retire, huh?” Alex said flippantly, accompanied with a weak laugh.  Russel was the one who said it.  
“We’re not married.”
Alex’s smile fell. “Oh, sorry. I just - I heard… forget it. You, uh, have a lovely cat.”
Then she nervously removed herself from the conversation, awkwardly moving from behind the counter to attend to some unopened boxes in the storage. Russel chuckled dryly at this, but an uneasiness twisted in his stomach when he turned to see a slightly hurt Murdoc. The mood turned cold, and Russel felt a stab of guilt at what he said. Murdoc tried to shake off his expression and paint over it with a forced grin.  
“I’m gonna take Buster to the park to see what she can find in the trash,” he said with a bounce, burying his twitchy, nervous hands in his coat pockets. Russel responded with his own forced grin. “Please, don’t bring it back home.”
They had a brief goodbye that left Russel unresolved for the rest of the day.
 Russel sat up in bed wringing his hands. Murdoc laid next to him half-asleep with his arm wrapped around Russel. It was getting late, but Russel couldn’t sleep.
“Do you mind-?” Russel tried, then hesitated when Murdoc groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes.  
“What?”
“Do you mind if I tell people we’re not married? That we’re boyfriends - I mean, I do it anyway. To strangers and neighbors and such. I know we haven’t told Noodle and ‘D and I just… are you okay with that? Telling people?”
Murdoc blinked until his vision was no longer blurry and looked at Russel with a bemused face. “Do YOU mind if I tell people you’re my boyfriend?”
Russel shook his head. Murdoc grinned toothily. “There you go.”  
Murdoc laid back under the covers, tugging at Russel’s arm to coax him to do the same. “I’m pretty sure if I’m comfortable enough to move in with you and have your stinky Nike sneakers in the same closet as my heels, I’d be okay with being called your significant other,” Murdoc elaborated, which made Russel laugh. “Okay, okay.”
Later, Murdoc decided to add.  
“Hey Russel.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you mind if we called Buster… our cat?”
“Shut up.”
Murdoc laughed himself to sleep.
 Russel didn’t expect to see Princess Buster with a pack of cigarettes in her mouth when he came home. Instead of swiping the pack from her, he followed curiously as she made her way up the stairs and to their bedroom’s balcony.
Murdoc was relaxing in a lawn chair with a glass of ice tea. Buster jumped into his lap and he rewarded her with a nice backrub as he grabbed the pack out of her mouth. Russel frowned and placed his hands on his hips. “So this is what you’ve been teaching her, huh?”
Murdoc looked over his shoulder and smiled at Russel. “Hola, honey.”
“Don’t hola me. What’s this?” Russel gestured to Princess Buster who has already curled herself up in Murdoc’s lap.  
“Why, this is our cat,” Murdoc smirked. “I’m sure you two have met-”
Russel plucked the cigarette from Murdoc’s lips. “What else are you making her fetch for you?”
Murdoc patted the seat of the lawn chair next to him, prompting Russel to take it, which he did.
“Nothing much. Cigs, car keys, toilet paper - mostly just for fun. She loves it. Don’t you, girl?”
Princess Buster lifted her head and mewled in response, which more than endeared Russel. Murdoc laughed and gave her one more smooth stroke down her back.  
After a few moments, Russel piped up, intrigued. “She fetches toilet paper, huh?”
“Yup.”
“I want toilet paper.”
Murdoc shrugged then lifted his hand from Buster’s back. “Just tell her.”
Russel raised a brow. He looked Princess Buster in the eye and said, “fetch me some toilet paper.” Princess Buster got up from her seat and ran off. Soon enough, she returned with said toilet paper. Russel was impressed.
“See? Just relax,” Murdoc said. Russel took some rolls of tissue to blow his nose in, and smirked. “Yeah, maybe I should,” he replied, and was happy to have a lapful of cat at the end of the day.
 Murdoc and Buster had been playing rough. It was inevitable that Murdoc would earn some bruises.
Russel sighed as he bandaged Murdoc up, rather tired from work. Princess Buster came trotting in and rubbed herself against Murdoc’s side in a form of an apology, then stared wide eyed at his bandaged arm. “Don’t look so surprised, you did this,” Murdoc said, which made Russel smile lightly.  
“Of course she’d be surprised; she thought you two were just playing around. Maybe you should pick on someone your own size.”
Murdoc smirked, sat up on his knees and wrapped his arms around Russel’s shoulders. “My own size, hm?” Murdoc grinned, pulling Russel closer to him. Russel pulled himself away from Murdoc with a disapproving look. “Sorry, Muds. Too tired,” Russel yawned, and got up from the bed. Murdoc laid on his stomach and cupped his cheeks with a groan.
“You’re always tired,” Murdoc rolled his eyes. “Just because you’re retired doesn’t mean you can sleep all the time.”
“Yes, it does,” Russel said as he came back from the bathroom with cat-themed socks on. He climbed under the bedsheets and soon enough Murdoc was by his side. pouting and insistent.  
“What am I meant to do while you sleep the whole day away? Wank like some repressed teen? I’m an adult, Russ,” Murdoc whined. “You sure do sound like one,” Russel yawned. Then Russel added, rather flippantly, “and besides, is that all you want from me, Murdoc? Sex?”
“No,” Murdoc answered quickly, “I also need you to bandage me up. And make fun of me. And sleep on me when I’m horny.” Russel didn’t reply, and so Murdoc continued. “And to wake me up in morning. And make me happy. And make me feel good about myself. And stop me from being an arse. And be there for me. And for me to be there for you. And being my boyfriend.”
A moment passed, and Russel turned onto his back to look up at Murdoc. “Hey, Muds.”
Murdoc’s face lit up. “Yeah?”
“Take Princess Buster out for a walk. Maybe she’s just a little bored, yeah?” He gave Murdoc one last knowing look before turning back on his side.
Murdoc glared fiercely at Russel, but it didn’t garner any reaction. Murdoc let out a heavy sigh, got up from the bed and scooped Buster up in his arms. Instead of taking her out for a walk like Russel had said, though, he moved and positioned Buster so that her ass landed on Russel’s face.
 Murdoc and Russel were convinced something had died. The smell was so awful and was everywhere in the house - it had to have been a dead rat that Princess dragged in from the yard. They were quite shocked to find it was Princess Buster herself. She was attracting flies. They had no choice.
The water was shallow, but it still had Buster wiggling and squealing in Russel’s hands. Buster wasn’t the least bit timid when fighting back - clawing and hissing and getting the water all over her owners in protest. They were getting nowhere with Princess Buster. The ordeal just left her wet and upset with them.  
Russel grumbled in frustration, about to just pack up for the day when he turned to see Murdoc hunched over and unbuckling his belt. Murdoc looked up and met Russel’s odd stare, then grinned. “I’m going in,” he announced, then pulled down his jeans.
Murdoc got in the bath in nothing but his briefs and held Princess Buster in place. Why Murdoc couldn’t have just kept his clothes on, Russel didn’t know and didn’t bother to question. He got quick to work by smoothing the shampoo through Buster’s fur and rinsing her off. She glared at them both and struggled in Murdoc’s grip, but eventually eased into the process.  
Later, out of boredom, Russel lifted the bath’s shower head and sprayed an unexpecting Murdoc. This earned a mutual splash from Murdoc, who was terribly offended having another wave of water hit his face. Princess Buster’s bath turned into a splash fight between her two owners, and she saw this as an opportunity to jump ship.  
Princess Buster was quickly caught in a towel, though, and was then vigorously dried by Russel.
Murdoc laughed at how her fur poofed when dried but got a face full of towel himself, and Russel sniggered at how Murdoc’s fringe bounced. Russel cupped Murdoc’s cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, Princess Buster writhing in his lap as they closed the distance between them.  
“I love you” Murdoc breathed against Russel’s cheek, his face hot.
“I love you too” Russel replied, and leaned back to comb through Buster’s fur to calm her.
Murdoc grinned at this, then leaned back and took one good look at the state of the bathroom. “We really made a mess, huh?”
Instead of sighing and getting irritated, Russel laughed. “Yeah, I guess we did.”
 It was a bad day for Russel.
He was restless and shaky and sinking into his feelings with great struggle. He kept finishing his sentences with apologies and choked on his words.  
“I thought I saw something. I’m sorry.”
“Was it you talking just now? I’m sorry.”
“I can’t feel anything. I’m sorry.”
And so on.
Murdoc called in the shop on Russel’s behalf and asked it to be closed for the day. Russel apologised for this, too, but Murdoc hushed him. The two sat on the livingroom carpet with cups of tea and Princess Buster curled at their feet. Murdoc rubbed Russel’s back as he poured his raw thoughts. He was being terribly comforting.
This had snuck an idea into Russel’s head when he wasn’t looking - only that wasn’t exactly true. It’d been there for a long time, a vague and distant fantasy barely defined. A “maybe someday” thing that he would pull out in the middle of the night when he was downstairs in the kitchen and saw Murdoc watching him on the staircase. It’d be up there with the Gorillaz reunion and solo album and certainty of living peacefully in his little home in New Mexico.
He felt himself tripping into the fantasy a little more, imagining himself and Murdoc as… husbands…
But he had held back, for a thousand little reasons; Murdoc wouldn’t want it, what would it even change, really, the shadow of what this did to him and Del loomed over him, and what was worse was everything it would need - the time, the energy, the commitment - it scared Russel.
So, fantasy it stayed.
That was, of course, until today. Murdoc holding him close, making him feel so secure. Kissing his temple, massaging his shoulders and treating him like a jewel. And Russel concluded, in that moment, that when was down like this, he wanted Murdoc with him. In his good, in his bad, and all that shit.  
I will. Russel thought. Not today, but later. For sure. And then he lulled to sleep on Murdoc’s shoulder.
 They were cuddling on the sofa in their pajamas watching a rerun of Big Brother when Princess Buster came waltzing in. Her legs were like noodles and her head was floating in the air as she walked, and it caught Russel’s attention.
“What’s up with Princess?” Russel whispered, hoping she wouldn’t hear. Murdoc lifted his head and smirked at what he saw. “Huh. Maybe she ate something?” The two found this funny for a moment, but then they stared in horror as Buster began hacking and coughing.  
Russel got up from the sofa and was at Princess Buster’s side in a flash. He ordered Murdoc to fetch a basin for Princess Buster, but it was too late. By the time Murdoc hurriedly made his way to them with basin in hand, Buster had already vomited on Russel’s shoes.
“Fuck! Shit!” Russel quickly kicked off his shoes and stepped back in disgust. Murdoc, unharmed, kneeled down and frowned at his realization. “Uh…” he glanced up at Russel, “I think I know what she ate.”
 “You have weed.”
Murdoc, timid, shifted on his feet. “Yeah.”
The stash laid spilled from its plastic bag on the bedroom floor. It had been hidden way back in their closet - where Russel wouldn’t normally look for weed, if he ever did in the first place.
Russel rolled his eyes, beyond anger at this point. “What is up with you, Murdoc?”
Murdoc shrugged. “It’s just weed.”
“I don’t care if it’s weed! I would’ve liked to have known about the weed! Hell, you don’t tell me shit. I don’t know what you’re doing while I’m at work most of the time. For all I know, you could be-”
“You trying to say you don’t trust me?”
“No, I’m worried,” Russel said without pause, without hesitation. “I care about you, ya dipshit.”
Murdoc didn’t respond, seemingly touched by that statement, and broke eye contact. The mood faded and left the two awkwardly standing without a word between them. Several moments passed, and a smile spread across Murdoc’s face. He gestured to the said stash.  “Do you wanna try some?”
 It had been ages since Russel last lit up, and the reunion was rather pleasant. He was incredibly giddy and so giggled at whatever Murdoc would say. And giggling felt so good - everything did. The kisses Murdoc peppered his face with, how Murdoc would squeeze the rolls of his fat and mutter utter nonsense against his cheek turned Russel into melting butter under his touch.  Soon enough Murdoc was on top of Russel (or maybe it wasn’t so soon; Russel forgot the time when he was this careless and high in the early hours of the morning.)
Murdoc’s kisses were long, warm and sloppy. Murdoc sucked Russel’s plump lip into his mouth and snorted at how Russel winced as he bit it. He slowly rolled his hips to grind lazily against Russel. His hands gripped Russel’s shirt and he moaned when Russel ran his hands down his back and kneaded his ass.  
“It’s been a while.” Murdoc chuckled, then sat back up and peeled his top off. Russel responded with his own chuckle, and held onto Murdoc’s hips - his thumb traced Murdoc’s happy trail. Then he caught something in the corner of his eye, and his hands stilled.  
“The cat’s watching.”
And she was. Murdoc turned to see Princess Buster sitting in the doorframe, her gaze alternating between the two. She had seemed to recover rather smoothly from earlier. After several moments, Murdoc groaned and reluctantly got off of Russel and fell to his side. They had both become too attached and aware of her to go any further. Fucking cat.
“Is this what we are now? People who give up when the cat’s watching?” Murdoc grumbled, glancing at Russel. He shrugged weakly in reply. “Sure.”
Murdoc shook his head as he laughed. “Guess they’re right. We’re just an old married couple who are terrible at getting high.” Then he snorted. “At least half of that isn’t true.”
Russel tilted his head, a smile on his lips. “Well,” he yawned, “not yet, anyway.”
“What?” Murdoc looked at Russel and found him seemingly asleep. His heart hammered in his chest and he clenched and unclenched his fists. His head was foggy, so he tried his best to pace his thoughts. Careful, now.
He turned onto his side and wrapped an arm around Russel, pulling him into a lazy cuddle. “I’m sorry I worry you, Russ,” he whispered.  
“I don’t wanna do that. I wanna be good to you… no, I wanna be the best to you. And I know you worry no matter what – it’s who you are. But I wanna try to make you worry less. When you’re with me, I want you to be happy. And I want you with me all the time! I’ll be better, I promise. I’ll be honest. I’m gonna try…. no, I’m gonna do it for you. I’ll tell all you about the weed, and the cat - and I’ll bandage you up, too. Be there when you’re real low on yourself. I’m an arse – it’s who I am. But I wanna be less of that when I’m with you. I wanna be that. Yeah.”
A long silence. Murdoc sighed, pressing his head into Russel’s shoulder, when suddenly he felt a pair of lips in his hair. “Put on your shirt, you’re gonna freeze.” Murdoc giggled, didn’t comply and instead pulled himself even closer to Russel for warmth.
Buster had moved from the door and wedged herself between her two owners, soon joining them in sleep.  
 Murdoc had been weirdly distant.
Russel didn’t know when it had started, but he noticed when Murdoc avoided conversation, didn’t greet him in the morning or when he came home and was generally uneasy whenever Russel was around. He seemed to be spending the majority of his time with Princess Buster off somewhere. Russel had caught them in the midst of a tug of war, and Murdoc hurriedly hid whatever they were wrestling over in his pants before Russel could see.  
It had bothered Russel more and more as the week went on. He had reached a point where he complained to Alex about it.  
“I don’t see what’s got you so worked up,” Alex said, “it’s not like he’s planning on breaking up with you.”
Haha. Russel laughed at this, but then the seed was planted and it grew violently at the back of his head. What if…
No. No way. Murdoc Niccals wouldn’t dump Russel Hobbs. Why would he? Haha.  
Oh, God.
It was silly paranoia, Russel knew this. But it still ate at him. Murdoc’s text didn’t help, either.
Need 2 talk. Livingroom. Xxx
Russel sighed. It was nothing. He pushed down the panic that twisted in his chest and he entered his home - their home - with confidence. He cautiously made his way to the livingroom.
The lights had been turned down and there was familiar music playing. Listening carefully, Russel recognised that it was… Prince Buster. Huh. A smile tugged at his mouth. Murdoc was standing in the middle of the room, terribly nervous. Russel felt a wave of fear hit him.
“What is this?” he asked.
“I was going to do more, but shit happened. Things fell through, and I got irritated. I couldn’t keep agonizing over it, so this is the best I could pull off right now, sorry-”
“Murdoc,” Russel said, taking a step toward him, “what the hell are you on about?”
“Come here,” Murdoc said. “Let’s sit.”
They settled on the sofa, and Murdoc rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Buster who was sitting idly near the coffee table.  
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, and for a second Russel had the stomach-churning feeling the next words would be I think we should end this, I’m leaving you.  
“I’ve been thinking about us. About our past, and where we are now. And I’ve been thinking of the time we have left, together, and I’m tired of wait and see with you, Russel. It doesn’t have to be official, formal - I’m not fussy. But I want something, something to show that I’m serious. About you. About us.”
Russel blinked and frowned. “I’m not exactly following.”
Murdoc bit his lip, then turned and spoke to Princess Buster. “Fetch.”
Princess Buster got up and went, then returned with a pack of cigarettes. It confused both Russel and Murdoc. “No, no, Princess. Wrong. Fetch.”
She returned with another pack.
Russel furrowed his brow and frowned at Murdoc. “If it’s that important why don’t you go and fetch it yourself?”
Murdoc, embarrassed, shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t work if - c’mon, fetch.”
Russel huffed as Buster went off again, and turned to Murdoc with his arms crossed. The two soon began bickering about this, and didn’t notice at first when Princess Buster returned with a little black box. Murdoc eventually caught this in the corner of his eye and leaned town to swipe it from the ground, ignoring that Princess had begun to lick herself. Russel paused mid sentence as Murdoc opened and plucked it from the box to present it to Russel.
A ring. A golden one, in fact. Pinched right between Murdoc fingers. Words had deserted Russel, and he was left staring. His eyes started to burn.  
“Will you marry me?”
Oh.
Oh.
“It’s alright,” Murdoc said, his voice cracking. “If you need to think - I can go-”
Russel shook his head. “No,” he managed to say, and, finally, reached out to catch Murdoc’s arm. “Don’t go.”
Murdoc sat very still. “Russ? You- you’re crying.” Murdoc sounded horrified, but Russel just laughed helplessly.  
“It’s too much - you. ” Russel felt his cheeks heat as the tears welled from his white eyes. “Do you know that feeling? Like, you feel so much you could just burst.”
“And what is that feeling?” Murdoc swallowed.
Russel bit his lip in trying to find the name for it. In the end, he really only needed one word.
“Yes,” he said.
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