#my weird ass habit of never watching things but knowing so much about it

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @steddiemas Day 1: Deck the Halls read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve’s annoyed.

More than annoyed, really.

He’s supposed to be at the Munson’s, sitting between Wayne and Eddie, watching the Hoosiers play. Well, trying to watch the game, at least. Eddie has a habit of dozing off before the first quarter ends, head thunking against Steve’s shoulder so he can’t move for the rest of the game.

But no.

His mom just had to call and demand he set up their stupid Christmas tree before she and his dad get home tonight because the annual Harrington Holiday House party is this weekend, and she doesn’t have time to do it herself. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s trusting him enough to decorate the thing. He can count on one hand how many times he was allowed to hang an ornament on the statement piece in their living room.

He can’t even celebrate the decorating victory, though, because he’s still trying to assemble the goddamn thing. Nine-foot trees really aren’t meant to be set up by one person. At least, that’s what Steve’s learning as he tries to balance the next segment of the tree over his shoulder as he climbs up the ladder.

Focused on not falling, Steve doesn’t hear the front door open or the stomps of boots coming into the room. It isn’t until Eddie tuts does Steve startles, nearly toppling over.

“Woah, there big boy,” Eddie teases, reaching out to steady the ladder. “Don’t fall.”

“Don’t scare me then,” Steve snaps. It takes a moment, but he manages to get the next piece into the slot before carefully climbing down the ladder.

“Christ, someone’s feisty today,” Eddie says, hands up in surrender. “I guess it’s a good thing you bailed on me and Wayne to uh…” He glances at the half-assembled tree in the middle of the room. “What are you doing exactly?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Building a stupid Christmas tree.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” Eddie asks, shaking his head. “You can’t build trees. You grow trees.”

Steve snorts. “It’s an artificial tree, Eds. My mom called as I was headed out to your place. Said I needed to get the stupid thing up and fluffed before she got home tonight because she needs a full three days to decorate the damn thing for the annual Harrington Holiday House party.”

“This thing is blasphemous!” Eddie says, circling it like a predator stalking its prey. “I thought rich people love Christmas trees. Don’t you like custom order the biggest one to show off your wealth?”

“Uh, no? My mom says real trees make too much of a mess.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Eddie says, abandoning the tree as he stalks towards Steve. “You mean to tell me you’ve never had a real tree before? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“You’re being weird,” Steve says, shaking Eddie’s hands off his shoulder.

“I am not being weird. You’re being weird. You’ve never had a Christmas tree! Do you even know what they smell like? Steve, you haven’t lived until you’ve smelt a freshly cut down Christmas tree!”

“Jesus, I didn’t know you were so passionate about this,” Steve snorts.

“You think this is bad. Wait until I tell Wayne. He’s going to flip out!”

“Wayne has never flipped out in his life.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first for everything.” Eddie crosses his arms and then immediately uncrosses them, clapping his hands instead. “That’s it. You’re coming with us this year. Don’t make plans for next Friday! I’m stealing your Christmas tree virginity.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Steve groans, wrinkling his nose. “But fine, I’ll go with you. If you help me with this thing.”

“I don’t think that’s a fair trade-off, Stevie.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really give a shit,” Steve says, bending down for the next segment of the tree. “Now grab an end.”

Steve yelps when he feels a firm hand squeeze his ass. All it takes is one deathly glare over his shoulder for Eddie to stop cackling and get serious.

🎄 🎄 🎄

“I’m going to sue your family,” Eddie whines, collapsing on the couch a few hours later.

“Don’t be a baby,” Steve scolds before dashing off into the living room to grab a couple of beers.

“Excuse me! That thing attacked me! Multiple times! Look at the evidence,” Eddie shouts, yanking up the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt to examine a dozen or so scratch marks up and down his forearms. “And don’t even get me started on my hands! How am I supposed to play guitar, Steven!”

“I told you to wear gloves,” Steve shrugs, returning to the room. He passes Eddie the cold can of beer before sinking into the couch beside him.

“I shouldn’t need gloves because you shouldn’t need to fluff a tree! They already come fluffed because they’re not rotting away in a box all year.”

“You poor thing,” Steve playfully tuts. “Guess I can’t hold your hand now since they’re so beaten up.”

“I never said that,” Eddie squawks as he yanks Steve’s hand into his own.

They sit in silence after that. Nursing their beers as the Christmas tree stands in its makeshift glory in front of them. Steve can tell which side he fluffed and which side Eddie did. The giant gap between the top two layers is obvious, and he knows he’s going to have to climb the ladder and fix it before his mom gets home, but that’s a problem for future Steve. Right now, he wants to sit here with his boyfriend even if his boyfriend is gearing up for another faux Christmas tree rant.

“Don’t tell me your mom is one of those people who only puts those stupid decorative ball things on the tree, too.”

“What do you think?” Steve says, hiding his smile behind the can of beer.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

🎄 🎄 🎄

It takes a bit of convincing and a formal invite from Wayne, but Steve keeps up his end of their deal, joining the Munsons on their quest for the perfect Christmas tree for the trailer.

Eddie has a habit of embellishing when he tells stories, but Merrill’s farm lives up to all the hype. As done, the process of selecting and chopping down the perfect tree. Steve gets stuck being the tie-breaking vote when Wayne and Eddie end up arguing over which tree to bring home. Naturally, Eddie throws a minor fit when Steve sides with Wayne, whining that he likes him better than his own boyfriend, which has Wayne rolling his eyes.

Steve gets to make the first chop but passes the ax off quickly. He doesn’t want to impede on their tradition any more than he has. Besides, axes have never been his thing. He prefers to swing bats instead.

“See, isn’t this much better than building a tree?” Eddie asks, slinging an arm over Steve’s shoulder as they stand off the side while Wayne pays.

“It definitely smells better.” Steve inhales deeply, scents of pine and hints of peppermint flooding his senses. Someone should bottle this stuff up and sell it as a cologne, he thinks. He’d definitely wear it.

“It’s easier, too.”

Steve scoffs. “Speak for yourself! You’re not the one who helped Wayne drag it all the way up here.”

Eddie laughs, eyes sparking mischievously. “Wait until you have to help him load it into the truck. That’s always the worst part.”

Steve eyes his boyfriend through squinted eyes. He ducks out of Eddie’s grasp and settles his hands on his hips. “You set me up! You just brought me here so you wouldn’t have to do manual work!”

“You wound me, Harrington,” Eddie gasps, clutching a hand over his heart as he staggers backward. “How can you think so lowly of me.”

“Because I know you, Munson,” Steve teases.

“Alright, alright, fine,” Eddie says, slinking over to Steve. “Maybe I had ulterior motives, but it's only fair after what I suffered helping you with that abomination you call a tree. At least now you’ve experienced a true Christmas tree experience.”

Steve can’t help but laugh, shaking his head as Eddie beams proudly at him.

“Ready to go, boys?” Wayne asks, rejoining them. They both nod, watching as Wayne makes his way over to the heavier side of the tree.

“You don’t have to carry it, Wayne,” Steve says, mischievous flooding his own veins. “Eddie and I will carry it to the car.”

“You bastard!”

“Hey,” Wayne scolds, swatting Eddie’s shoulder. “No swearin’ ‘round kids. I ain’t raise you like that.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he watches Eddie sigh dramatically before carefully shoving Wayne away from the tree. He waits for Eddie to follow his lead, squatting down before he counts them off. On three, they hoist the tree over their shoulders and start heading back out to the car.

🎄 🎄 🎄

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks later, passing Steve a mug full of Wayne’s signature hot chocolate. “Is it better than your tree?”

Steve knows the answer immediately, but he takes a moment. Wants to make Eddie squirm as he admires the tree in front of him. It’s not perfect. It’s a little crooked, and there are hundreds of pine needles littering the floor. The lights are bright, though, and the branches are full of homemade and sentimental ornaments that span decades. A homemade star sits on top in lieu of the traditional angel. A star, Eddie tells him, he and his mom made by themselves the year before she got sick.

It’s perfectly imperfect.

His own traditional, straight out of the pages of a Home and Garden magazine doesn’t stand a chance against this one.

“Yeah, Eds. It’s better than my tree.”

“Victory!” Eddie shouts, nearly spilling his hot chocolate all over himself.

🎄 🎄 🎄

A month later, Steve’s belly is full of the Munson Christmas feast, but instead of lazily lounging on the couch enjoying his food baby, he’s carefully taking ornaments off of the dead Christmas tree that nearly caught fire twice since he’s been here.

“I take it back,” Steve says, carefully taking an ornament off of the dead tree. “Artificial trees are better.”

“They are not!” Eddie whines, wrapping the ornaments Steve hands him in tissue paper.

“I don’t know, Eds. I’ve never had to take down a tree on Christmas before!” he grumbles, reaching for another ornament. “This sucks.”

“It’s all your fault. If you chose my tree, it would have lived for another week! I just know it.”

“Sure it would have,” Steve snorts.

“Look on the bright side, at least we have firewood for the New Year's Eve bond fire now. We can’t do that with your stupid tree.”

“Nope, because I get to use my tree again next year, and you have to buy a new one. Think that’s another point for fake trees.”

Eddie screeches, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and tugging him off the ladder and onto the couch. Despite their full stomachs and tired eyes, they wrestle and laugh as Wayne shakes his head from the doorway, a light cigarette perched between his lips.

“Cut it out, you too,” he scolds when things get more heated between them. “Need it out before it really goes up in flames.”

[ficmashup]

Gardening

Summary: Ghost is moving into a new apartment and you just so happen to be the building's owner.

A/N: First dip into writing second person (I think that's the right term?) and I'm not sure if I don't like it or if it was just difficult for me. People who've read my Price fic in first person, please weigh in here. I need to know if this sounds weird or if it's just me. I might rewrite the whole thing in first person and see which feels better.

Warnings: Not much here...overworking? Slight fainting. Not edited.

Word Count: 3k+

Masterlist

The first time he sees you, your hands are elbow-deep in dirt and there’s more smeared over your face. It’s late afternoon and he’s heaving a duffel over his shoulder to head into his new apartment. It’s been a long time since he spent long in an apartment at all and by the time he came back to his old one, the building was being foreclosed. He’d never been one to couch surf and he wasn’t about to start now. Certainly not for a month. Jump to seeing you covered in dirt in front of his new apartment building.

He hesitates on the steps, watching you a moment longer while you grumble to yourself. You’re on your knees digging through a flowerbed as if digging for diamonds. “You alright?” He surprises himself by asking and almost keeps walking with the expectation that you won’t even answer, but you turn your face up to him in an instant. Your arm raises to block out the sun and you don’t even flinch as dirt rains down on you.

“Fine, thanks. Just a few roots being stubborn.” You give him a warm, welcoming smile that keeps him still a few moments longer. Long enough for you to scan the duffel on his back and the few boxes set on the ground by his truck. “Moving in?” He hesitates a moment before answering. He’s not in the habit of giving away information freely, but the conclusion is obvious enough. He nods once.

“Then you’re Simon Riley.” You pull your hands from the dirt as if they’re the ones who have taken root and wipe them off on your jeans while getting onto your feet. Trepidation begins creeping into his chest and he grips the strap of his bag over his shoulder a little tighter. “I’m the building’s owner. Nice to meet you in person.” You offer your dirt-smudged hand as you give him your name and he laxes slightly. He takes your hand, seeing approval flash through your eyes. He wonders briefly if offering your dirty hand was a test that he just passed.

“I’ll walk you to your place and make sure you have your keys. Need help carrying anything?” You offer and it’s clear you mean it.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He replies evenly and you nod before leading the way and expecting him to follow.

“I run a tight ship. Hope you read the rules about staying here because if you break any, I’ll throw you out on your ass.” You move around the entrance easily, clearly knowing where everything is without having to look. A little glance over your shoulder is all you give him to make sure he’s listening and you catch the slight upward tilt of his lips.

“Yes, ma’am. Read over things twice.” He answers honestly and you hum with approval before guiding him up the stairs. Something about the way you hold yourself, the easy confidence, the way you say orders and expect them to be followed, reminds him of Price and puts him a little more at ease.

“You’re on the edge of the building, so only one neighbor on the north side and another across the hall. Delaney is quiet and keeps to herself more often than not, but I let her play music on the roof with friends on Saturdays.” Your voice fills the halls and he notes that the place is very well-kept and clean. Even the windows are clear and gleaming. You go on, “Mr. Cruz across the hall can be a bit miserly, but other than mumbling about the newspaper and the state of the world, he’s harmless. His wife, on the other hand, is a shameless gossip. So I hope you’re not too bothered if you come home and see her peeking at you from her door.”

Simon hums a small laugh. “Don’t mind it. I’m not that interesting.”

“Pity. She’s been dying for a salacious neighbor since Beck moved out because her husband caught her with the nanny.” You quip instantly and amusement flits through Simon as you finally come to a stop in front of a dark green door. It’s quick work to unlock it and you push the door open, but don’t step inside. He likes that. It’s as if the second he signed the lease, this became his space and you won’t enter it until invited. “If you’d like to do me a favor and need some furniture, I have some in the basement from past tenants that I’d be glad to be rid of. Tell me if you’d like to look and I’ll take you. You have my number if you need anything else, but I’m usually around anyway.”

He enters the apartment and looks around at the empty space with a small sigh. It’s a good space with plenty of room and a view of the street below, but being in a new place feels like starting over. It’s a discomforting feeling given that nothing in his life has actually changed except for his address. But he turns towards you all the same and gives you another nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

You nod back and spare another moment to look him over. He’s not the first stray soldier that’s wandered into your building, but each one has been different. This one…this one might take quite a bit of coaxing. You give him another smile and see his body shift towards it just like he did the last time, as if your smile is sunlight he’s basking in. “Welcome home.”

*     *     *

The next time he sees you, you’re crouched on the stairs in front of a kid no more than eight-years-old. “It…hurts…” The little boy says between sobs with red smeared over his right knee. Probably from a nasty fall. Simon pauses on the next flight of stairs, looking down at you through the railing.

“Aw, yeah, I know it does. You’re being brave for me though.” Your voice is soft and gentle as you clean the blood away. “Bet that wimp Eric would be wailing this whole time, huh? Remember when he stubbed his toe and screamed for a minute straight?” There’s a little giggle and his heart squeezes at the sound.

The kid sniffles. “Yeah, I remember. He fell on the ground like he broke it or something.”

“That’s right.” You approve, smiling at him and reaching to the side where a first aid kit sits. “But I saw you play baseball and you didn’t even flinch when that pitcher hit you with the ball.”

“Yeah, that’s true. And that hurt!” The kid leans back a bit, relaxing as you distract him and I idly think about how many medics I’ve seen use the same tactic on wounded soldiers.

You finish cleaning up his knee and press a large band-aid to the ripped skin. “But you were so tough then and you were tough now. All done.” You muss his hair a bit and he giggles, slapping your hand away. “Now, what are we not going to do?”

The kid’s head droops. “Sprint up the stairs.”

“Smart kid. Now, wear that scrape with honor.” You tilt his chin up and he grins, sniffling again before leaning forward and giving you a hug.

“Thanks.” He squeezes tight before getting up and heading down the stairs at a slightly slower pace than running. A wait a moment as you pack up the things from your kit before heading down. Your head lifts and you smile at me, the same as the other day, and it strikes me just like it did then.

I clear my throat and tilt my head to where the kid went. “You seem to know everyone in this place.”

You hum and stand with the first aid kit in hand. “It’s my job to know everything that happens in this building.”

 He quirks a brow at you. “That’s not a position taken by most owners.”

“You should have easily learned by now that I’m not like most owners.” You quip instantly and are rewarded with a little upward twitch of his mouth.

“I was hoping you might have time to show me some of the furniture you mentioned?” He asks, unassuming and polite despite his size and clear musculature. It makes you like him a little more.

You nod and take a breath in the face of another task. “Sure. Let’s go.” You turn on your heel and start moving, Simon trailing behind with surprisingly soft footfalls. You jingle slightly with each step from the keys on your hip and he can’t help but think of a cat with a bell.

The basement is dark until you pull a heavy switch and illuminate a surprisingly large space littered with furniture. “Pick whatever you like and I’ll help you carry it up.”

“You ever stop working?” He asks and you can hear the amusement in his voice. You shrug a shoulder and lean against the wall beside the stairs as he slowly walks through the room.

“There’s always something to be done and no one else is going to do it.”

“You could hire people.”

You immediately roll your eyes. “Then I’d have to fix whatever they screw up. Better to do it myself and get it right the first time.” He exhales softly and you swear that it’s almost a soft laugh.

“You remind me of someone.” He says and pauses next to a little kitchen table with two chairs in pretty good condition.

Your head tilts and you give him a little smile as he glances over. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

This time, you get an actual chuckle. “From me, it’s a compliment.”

“Hm. Then thank you.” You’re not sure you want to know why it would be an insult coming from someone else. He knocks on the table and the wood makes a dull, solid clunk noise. He nods and apparently that means it’s passed inspection. He lifts it up into his arms with a grunt and surprise widens your eyes as he carries it towards the stairs. You clear the way, grabbing the two chairs and staring at him as he bypasses the elevator in favor of more stairs without making a sound. It’s not exactly professional the way your eyes linger on his muscular arms, the shifting of his back under his t-shirt, and especially not how his thighs fit his jeans oh-so-well.

He grunts again as he sets the table down in his apartment and you sidle in to set the chairs on either side. There’s almost nothing else in the apartment. There are a few blankets and books in the bedroom along with a few cushions on the floor of the living room facing a tv. That’s it. He certainly isn’t one to overdecorate. “Anything else?” You offer with a hand on you hip.

He nods once. “Mind another trip?”

You smile and start walking to the door. “I’d be glad to empty out my entire basement if you like. Seems like you need it anyway.” The corner of his mouth lifts.

“I suppose that’s true. I appreciate the help.” He says and his voice is deep, but gentle. You only grow more curious about him and during the few more trips up and down the stairs, you realize that this guy might need a bit more than a little help with living.

*     *     *

It starts slow.

A few neighbors start bringing him some food throughout the week. Leftovers, baked goods, all under the guise of welcoming him to the building. Then there’s a small flyer set outside his door for an estate sale nearby where he finds a few more things to make his apartment less sparse. It’s a tad overbearing, but in an amusing way and he finds he doesn’t mind. Something about being aggressively looked after reminds him of Soap’s family and any thought of the Scot is a welcome one. He has little doubt that the interference is due to your instruction. You run this building better than most people in charge of the military.

His favorite spot in the apartment becomes the little window seat in the living room. It has a good view of the street and without fail, he gets a glimpse of you working in the flowerbeds in the front of the building. On the nicer days, he’ll even crack the window to hear you cussing at your rosebushes. But you’re a little quiet one day, moving slow, still working amongst the thorns in jean shorts and a tank-top dark with sweat. When you stand and wobble in place, he puts down the book he was pretending to read.

You heave a breath and wipe sweat off your brow before grabbing onto the railing leading into the building. Ugh, it’s hot. The sun is beating down like a physical weight and your sunhat is currently somewhere in Delaney’s apartment after her girlfriend borrowed it. Best to just bear the expense and get another one. “You run yourself ragged.” That deep voice disturbs your thoughts and your head lifts to see Simon standing there with a water bottle held out to you.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you gratefully accept the water and settle on the steps. “Too much to do to stop. Thank you for this.” The bottle is blissfully cold as you press it to your neck and take a deep breath of relief.

Simon moves across from you and leans on the railing, looking you over. Something you’ve noticed is how careful he is to give you space. He never comes too close. “I’ve seen you running around the building at least three times today. Once unclogging the garbage chute, the second time greasing the hinges of a door down the hall, and the third—” He gestures to rosebushes you were just digging in.

You finish drinking half the water and raise a brow at him with a teasing glint in your eye. “Keeping track of me?”

His lips part, but he’s interrupted before he can say a word. “Sweetie, my air conditioner is on the fritz again.” An older woman peeks out of the front door and Simon recognizes Mrs. Cruz from across the hall. She scrutinizes him through her big glasses before blinking innocently back at you.

You sigh, but nod. “Alright, Mrs. Cruz. I’ll be there right away.” She shuffles back into the building while you heave yourself up onto your feet and your vision immediately goes black. It almost feels like you’re outside your body as you feel it sway backward before a large hand slides onto your lower back and another grips your arm. Your hand tightens on the railing as your eyes snap open, the world swimming in front of you.

“Steady, now.” A pair of concerned eyes are the first thing you see as your vision clears. “Let’s get you inside.” He moves closer and begins to stoop, but you grab his shirt in a fist.

“You are not picking me up.” You grind out, every word a command. Not in front of your building, not by a tenant, not with Mrs. Cruz waiting inside who would assuredly spread every type of rumor she could about the scene. “Just…walk inside with me.” He hesitates a beat before straightening and letting you use his arm and the railing to get back into the building. You shoot a smile towards Mrs. Cruz waiting exactly where you expected her. “I need my tools, but I’ll be along in just a minute.”

Her eyes squint, but she nods a moment later before vanishing into the elevator. “Slowly and steadily, then.” Simon murmurs with his hands gentle and sure as he moves you towards your office in the back. You hold your tongue despite the desire to insist that you do not need help because you very clearly do. Still, you can’t hold back your heavy sigh as you both slowly walk back and he helps you settle into your office chair.

“Thank you.” You murmur, pride a little wounded but ultimately grateful you didn’t have to crawl in here. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Then I’ll head up to help Mrs. Cruz.” Your head shakes as you make yourself drink the rest of your water while taking some steadying breaths.

“Unfortunate we’re not closer to my apartment. I’d give you something one of my neighbors gifted me earlier this week.” Simon comments with amusement lacing his tone. Maybe you weren’t as subtle about filling his pantry as you thought you were.

“I ate today. Just pushed a little too hard in the heat. That’s all.”

“Mm.” He hums, watching you from the doorway with the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “A habit of yours?”

You can’t resist returning his near smile. “Practically my occupation.”

He huffs a small laugh before clearing his throat as if trying to hide it. The fact makes you smile a little wider. “I’ll get you another water, then walk with you up the stairs.”

“Oh, there’s really no need—” But he’s already walked out. You sigh again, relaxing back into the chair and closing your eyes for a few moments. Time passes, a bit too long than it should have taken, but when you open your eyes there’s another water in front of you and no Simon. You feel a bit better and rise from your seat with a groan, grabbing your toolkit and heading up to Mrs. Cruz. But it’s an utter surprise when you get to her apartment to find the usual whir of her air conditioning uninterrupted.

“That handsome man across the hall had it fixed in a few minutes. Didn’t complain or say much other than asking what the problem was.” Mrs. Cruz reports with rare approval in her voice. Mr. Cruz grumbles quietly from his usual seat in his favorite armchair. You sigh and glance out the door towards Simon’s apartment with a hand on your hip and a half-smile. Seems you’re not the only one keen to help. Whether it’s asked for or not.

(Lmk if you want to be tagged in future installments of this!)

[thosewildcharms]

Your rhetorical questions have lit up my brain lol like what if Rick had met Michonne and Andre first instead of Morgan and Duane? 🤯 But anyway on a separate note, it’s so wild to see Rick and Shane’s first scene and Rick laughing along to Shane’s mysoginistic weird ass rant in light of who he is now. He really was just some emotionally repressed small town guy, And while Lori telling Rick “I wonder if you even care about us” in front of Carl was horrible, I wonder what Rick could’ve done or not done that would make her feel that way? And Shane said women’s problem is they don’t know how to turn off a light switch, to which Rick says part of the problem is he’s the one who’s leaving light switches on; I hate to be missing something that’s probably obvious but what did he mean with that?

oh that's a great idea for an AU anon. your mind!

this got long because who am i, so under a read more it goes.

maybe i got my rickgirl blinders on and am giving him too much credit but i thought rick was laughing at least somewhat incredulously at shane's speech (he was at the very least shaking his head a lot until the very end) but yes present-day rick would probably not have entertained that quite so much lol. but to kind of go along with that, my interpretation of light switch thing was rick kind of dismissing shane's, as you pointed out, misogynistic joke by saying he's the one with the issue turning off lights, and also to shift the conversation into the Actual Problems he and lori are having. also in retrospect it kinda feels like the show was lowkey already telling us lori and shane were more suited for each other than lori and rick but i could be reading into that. but listen metaphors have a habit of flying right over my (probably) autistic little head so i could also be missing some hidden meaning there.

as for the fight with lori, there's a flashback (i think in season 2?) where lori is talking to a friend about that same fight and she admits that she was the one who was being the asshole and how she got even more pissed off over how even-tempered and reasonable he was in response. from rick's perspective, he said he would try to talk about his feelings only for it to seem like lori didn't actually want to hear them after all. honestly i think they were just fundamentally incompatible, as we saw over and over in seasons 1 and 2. it wasn't anyone's fault, and their fights probably escalated because they didn't even know how to argue the way the other person wanted them to.

and not to constantly compare rick/lori to richonne, but rick similarly almost never yells or gets mean the few times we see him and michonne argue. the couple of times he did in towl were such an anomaly it set off alarm bells for michonne that something was really wrong with him (and also the situation was just objectively insane). but michonne and rick know how to disagree without getting ugly, and she certainly never has to try to provoke him into communicating because they have a fundamental understanding of each other that rick and lori never had. for sure rick learned from his mistakes with lori but i don't think the rick who was with lori was an entirely different person who said horrible things to his wife. he couldn't express himself the way we see he can with michonne because he just didn't have that type of connection with lori. and to be fair, lori didn't feel that with rick either, and again, that's okay. they probably should have just called it quits well before rick got shot. @cantstayawaycani and @jonesywrites go into this far more eloquently than I did here in their very excellent towl season 1 reaction video that you should definitely watch, because it's wonderful from start to finish.

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (2/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, namjoon is pretty much not the nicest dude lol (will add more as it progresses), kinda sugar daddy au but not really. It will make sense I promise.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 9k

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

a/n: Hello, this is longer than I expected it to be, but anything to get the story moving. LMK your thoughts and if you want to be added to the tallest! Enjoy!

m.list

prev || next 

“I thought you stopped smoking.”

Jungkook jumps at the sound of your voice, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. The burning cigarette in between his index and middle finger. He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it and closes it, shaking his head. He looks out into the backyard, and takes another puff of his almost gone cigarette.

You sigh and go to stand next to him, leaning against the porch railing as you stare out into the same backyard. Silently wishing it was Spring again. Mrs. Jeon and Lia’s backyard always felt magical. Filled with flowers and greenery that always made it feel like a dream. But in the winter months it was barren and depressing. Nothing exciting grows except for the Lenten Roses in a pot next to the last porch step.

“Bad habits die hard.” He shrugs, taking another puff. “You should know.” He looks over at you, blowing out the cloud of smoke in your face.

You cough, fanning the cloud away. “You’re an ass.”

“Sometimes you ask for it.” He shrugs, throwing the white stick on the ground and squashing it with his boot. “Shouldn’t you be inside, gushing about wedding dresses and invitations with mom, while dad kisses Namjoon’s feet for once again being the perfect son.”

He stuffs his hands into the pocket of his pants. You sigh, coming to stand next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Don’t be like that.” You whisper. “You’re lightyears a better person than your brother.”

His chest shakes with a humorless laugh. He has the urge to push you away but you’ve always been the only one with the ability to see through the perfectly curated images he and his brother have built over the years. “It’s always the same. I’m always the degenerate, the one who broke the rules growing up while Namjoon followed them. I’m the one who dropped out of college but he’s automatically the better son because he didn’t, and is now working on his PHD. While I work at a small flower shop, with a freelance photography job on the side. I’m the leech they can’t seem to get rid off.” He lets out a shaky sigh before pushing himself away.

“Jungkook d–”

“No, don’t say anything because you’re helping him knowing very well what he’s done to you. You’re feeding into what they want, and you can tell me it’s to benefit yourself. But how many times did I offer to help you pay out your student loans? How many times did I offer to help you find a better job? And you never took it because you wanted to do it yourself and I respected that boundary. But now that he comes back and offers you the same things with an added marriage proposal on top. You suddenly decide to take up on the offer.” He rants, running a tattooed hand through his long hair. “It fucking sucks because I know he’s going to hurt you and I don’t know if I can be there for you when he does because even if I have never had any sort of romantic feelings for you. I do love you and it hurt so much seeing you so broken and not being able to do anything about it.” He paces, invisibly mapping out the situation with his hands.

“And I can’t even fully hate him either because he is my brother and not many people understand our relationship but I know he loves me. He just has this weird ass way of showing it, and if he hurts you again, I’ll be put in the middle and I don’t want that because I can’t leave you alone and I can’t leave him alone either.” He breathes out, dropping his head feeling defeated.

It’s everything he wanted to tell you yesterday at the flower shop, but he didn’t want Yoongi to see him like this. Truthfully he wasn’t going to let you know either, but seeing the happiness on his parents' faces made him feel more bitter than usual.

You walk to stand in front of him, placing your hands on top of his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue in annoyance before shaking his head in disbelief. “I know a part of you still loves him and I know that part will fall for him the second he starts acting like the old Namjoon again. I can’t stop you and I can’t stop him either.”

“You out of all people know that I’m not the same person I was then and you know why. You’re right the person that loved him is still inside here but she knows better. I won’t fall for him the way I did then and what happened that night won’t happen again.” You say, hugging him tightly again. “I appreciate you worrying about me, but I can take care of myself.” You whisper, rubbing his back lightly.

He sighs, finally hugging you back and kissing the top of your head gently. “I wish it was Jimin instead.” He adds, making you laugh a bit at the end. That was a whole new can of worms you didn’t want to get into.

At least not now at your fake fiance's parents house.

“I was scared.” He admits, burying his head into your neck. “When you called me and told me to pick you up in tears. I honestly never wanted to kill anyone more than I did that night.” He whispers. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Jungkook’s never been honest with you about what he felt that night. You never asked because you were scared of knowing the truth. And now that he’s voiced it you can’t help but feel your heart break all over again.

“I’m sorry, I did–”

“No, don’t be sorry it’s not your fault that he–”

“Am I interrupting something?” Namjoon’s curiosity breaks the two of you apart in an instant. Quickly you wipe away the fallen tears from your cheeks. You step away further from Jungkook while he does the same, avoiding eye contact with the older man as if you’ve been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

Namjoon has always had a wild imagination, hence his profession of choice. And right now his imagination is running him up a road he knows he shouldn’t go down. He had been looking for you for at least fifteen minutes, and when he heard your voice along with Jungkook’s voice coming through the patio screen door. He couldn’t think straight, especially not after hearing his little brother be so vulnerable, but he also couldn’t help but wonder what else the two of you were talking about.

As far as he’s concerned the infamous fight between the two of you happened in your old bedroom. Your parents were out on a date and he had come over so you could look over one of his essays. He left your house in a hurry, getting on his bike and pedaling as fast as he could to get away from your house with his heart pounding against his throat.

Had you gone somewhere else after?

Now, he needed to know, only because his curiosity would not let him forget until he knew. It was one of his fatal flaws. Probably the most annoying one.

“Um, I know you came with Kook but it would be weird now if you left with him.” He too feels weird, especially because the two of you looked like you’ve just stolen three cookies out of the jar before dinner. He hates it, it only feeds the little curious demon inside of him. “I have to be somewhere at five so I came to tell you that I’ll take you home but we have to leave in like fifteen minutes to beat the traffic.” He nods, scratching the back of his neck before taking a look between the two of you, and it suddenly hits him like a truck.

Wait, were the two of you secretly seeing each other. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wait, but what about that Jimin guy? Hold on, were you seeing the of them at the same time, hol–

“It’s fine we are done here.” Jungkook looks over at you, giving you a smile to ease your overwhelming anxiety, and walks to the entrance, patting Namjoon’s arm before heading inside.

There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, before you decide that it’s been long enough for you to go back inside too. Before you even get the chance to move, Namjoon speaks up, burning his stare into yours.

“Are you seeing each other?” He voices out, finally giving in. He regrets it because the look on your face makes him realize that he’s said the wrong thing.

“You’ve been saying a lot of stupid shit lately.” You shake your head, taking it as your sign to leave. If you have to be in a car with him for an hour. You might as well save your energy. His genetic material is full of nonsense. “I’ll wait for you inside.” You say walking in and leaving him alone in the barren patio.

He can’t help but wonder about a lot of things. All of them start and end with you.

Namjoon is driving.

It’s a view you never thought you would ever see. Back when the two of you were friends he had very strong opinions about driving. The one time you asked after he showed up at the coffee shop drenched in rain water.

He said, “The world will be better without me on the road.” He laughed running off to ask the workers for a towel.

“What?” Namjoon says after stopping at a red light and looking over at you. One eyebrow raised.

“Nothing, it’s just strange.” You shrug. “I never thought I’d see you driving.” You point out, watching as the red light turns green. He steps on the gas, making a smooth right turn and glances over at you. A smirk painted on his features.

“I got tired of biking everywhere.” He says, leaning his right arm on the middle counsel. “This is also more convenient than asking JK to drive me everywhere when it rains or snows.”

You nod looking out the window. “What happened to priding yourself in having a small carbon footprint and world peace or whatever?”

Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head “I still bike most of the time just not to moms house or when it rains. As for the world peace thing. I don’t think being off the roads will stop wars.” He pulls the car to a stop and looks over at you again. Now that the two of you are alone he can’t help but think that maybe you did get a little prettier than what he remembers. Though you still don’t compare to all the women he’s ever dated. Most of them being nepo babies or supermodels. You’re still quite attractive, maybe in another life he wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing a life with you. But you still weren’t the woman of his dreams. Though, the more he navigates through life he’s realizing that such a person simply doesn’t exist.

If they did he wouldn’t be here in the car with you.

“Oh,” you jump up as if you just remembered something important. And before Namjoon can begin to understand what was happening the light turns green again and he’s pressing on the gas pedal. “I forgot to give this to you.” You say, holding out your hand in his view of sight with his mothers ring.

“Keep it.” He says without missing a beat. You’re shocked and you’re about to fight against him, but he beats you to it. “We’re going to be spending lots of time together. It’d be weird if you didn’t wear it when we’re together.” He reasons. It makes sense but you hated every second that passed by in which you had it on.

In a few months it wouldn’t be yours anymore. Plus it just felt wrong to be wearing it knowing it will someday go to someone else.

“You can just keep it and then when we go to places together, just give it to me.” You nudge his arm with your open hand. He glances down at it before looking out to the road.

“No need, you’ll be moving in anyway.” He nonchalantly says, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t drop another bomb on you.

Moving in?

This whole deal was taking turns that you didn’t expect. You knew he offered you a house in which you honestly weren’t going to take. But you didn’t think you’d be moving in with him. From what Jungkook tells you his apartment is more of a museum than a home. And you like your little apartment. It was perfect for one person, it had everything you needed and it was close to two subway stations. It was absolutely perfect and the rent wasn’t crazy expensive.

Rent.

That’s another thing to take into consideration. Would he make you pay for rent if you did by some miracle agree to moving in, because you’re more than positive you wouldn’t be able to afford it. Not now with your passable income from the flower shop. Of course, that chapter of your life will soon come to an end, but even working as a professor in your prestigious alma mater wouldn’t be enough to pay whatever crazy amount his rent is.

“Hold on, that wasn’t in our deal.” You close your hand in a fist and bring it down onto your lap turning your entire body to face him.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “The cats out of the bag what would people think when they figure out we are engaged but not living together.” He pulls up into the parking lot of your apartment building and puts the car in park. He turns his entire body to face you, one hand gripping onto the steering wheel. “I don’t think you understand how crazy mom can be. She will be over unannounced every other day now that she knows we’re getting married. It’s best to avoid all those questions because they can get invasive.” He states, turning off the engine and opening up his door. He looks over at you. “I can’t stay long but I’ll walk you to your door.”

You were beginning to get annoyed with how nonchalant he was acting about all of this. For a person who claims this was all fake he seemed to be trying his hardest to make it seem as real as possible. You’re starting to wonder if you should set up some ground rules first before you make such a serious decision.

What if you do move in? When all this is over what will happen to you?

You have no doubt in your mind that he will kick you out the second he gets tired of this scheme. You have no doubt in your mind that he will begin to act like this never happened. It is what he does best. He crosses boundaries and when you make it known he acts like he didn’t and that you were in the wrong the entire time.

It’s what happened then, but this time it will be different. This time you’re determined to keep your guard up as high as a skyscraper. This time you won’t fall for his smile, his charm, his laugh or his heart. This time you’re going to put yourself first and to be able to do that you need to have a serious conversation. Set some ground rules before you can continue anything else.

“Namjoon, wait.” You say as he’s getting out of the car. He rounds the front and opens the passenger door for you.

“What, I need to be somewhere in fifteen minutes, let’s go.” He rushes out looking down at his Rolex then you.

You get down from his car, stepping to the side as he closes the door. “We need to talk about this.” You use your pointer finger to single the space between the two of you.

He lets out an annoyed sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We will, but not today. We can have lunch next Wednesday after you come in for training.”

“Namjoon I just don’t think you understand. You’re making all these choices without getting my opinion first. I understand you want your parents to believe that we are actually engaged. And I understand that you have a lot left to lose. But you’re not the only one in this. I get to have say in this too and I–”

Namjoon holds his hand out to your face, blocking your words from coming out. “I get it and believe me I would love to talk about it because we have a lot of things to discuss but I really can’t today. I have a dinner meeting with a coworker and I need to pick her up in—” he looks down at his watch and up, “-in ten minutes.” He finishes and starts walking in front of you.

A dinner meeting? On a Sunday? With another woman?

You don’t want to be that person. You firmly do believe that men and women are able to be friends without anything romantic and sexual happening between them. But he’s acting a little bit suspicious and you can’t help but wonder if he’s going out on a date.

God, you’re so annoyed it’s honestly becoming very tiring. And you’ve only been fake engaged for a few hours. You can’t begin to imagine what the next months will be like or for however long he plans to keep up the scheme.

He calls out your name. He’s standing in front of your building entrance, snapping his fingers to hurry you up.

“I’m not a dog.” You roll your eyes, and push past him. You press the button to the automatic door and hold your hand out before he can take another step. “And I don’t need an escort.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re going to be late for your date.” You state stepping inside, leaving him floored with your little outburst. He wants to follow you and tell you a few choice words, but the ringing of his phone keeps him from pressing the button again.

He can talk to you another day. Right now you’re right about one thing. He is late. Even if it’s not a date like you have just assumed. He hates being late to places.

In a relationship.

The little phrase next to yours and Namjoons name has been haunting you since you got the notification last night. Least to say you had not gotten a wink of sleep. You had messaged Namjoon asking him what it was all about. The two of you had not talked since Sunday and making your fake relationship official on Facebook for friends and family to see was definitely something you didn’t see him doing.

It had caught you by surprise. What surprised you the most was the comments underneath the status, offering you kind words and congratulations. The few “it's about time,” comments had set you off. You weren’t sure if it was because you were engaged or because the two of you were engaged to each other. It had your mind racing in all sorts of directions.

Yet, what really didn’t let you sleep was Taehyung’s messages and Jimin’s cryptic “it all makes sense now,” text you had woken up too.

Your fake fiance always prided in living a life away from the drama. And while he’s having a blast living a fantasy you were on the other end receiving nasty messages from your friends and what you assumed were women he had been with once upon a time.

It was all getting too much. You were supposed to be enjoying your last shift ever at Euphoria before you ventured off into the world for bigger and better things. But here you were blocking comments and ignoring Taehyung’s angry spam and Jimini’s nasty comments, with a knot at the base of your throat.

You’ve never hated Namjoon more than you did now. Since he was ignoring you, probably annoyed with your constant pleading to delete the status. You would have to wait until you saw him again next week to scream in his face.

What didn’t help was that Jungkook had called in sick, so you were stuck with the brooding owner, sending you a glare whenever he heard you sigh.

“Okay, out with it. What has you acting like the queen has died?” He cuts a stem off a rose, before placing it in the middle of a few baby breath branches.

You put your phone down, face down hoping it would somehow keep the notifications from coming. “First the queen has died. Second, Namjoon is so fucking annoying. I…ugh.” You let out a frustrated sigh. Probably the thousandth one of the day before putting your head in your head, cradling it.

The headache that you had woken up with after three restless hours of sleep was only growing to be worse. You hear the older man laugh before patting your back awkwardly. “I think this is the part in which Jungkook would be saying I told you so, but I still fully support you getting the bag you deserve, and unfortunately whatever he did is part of the consequences you just have to face.” He states proudly before retrieving his hand and going back to the bouquet he was working on.

You raise your head, hoping your glare would bury him six feet underneath the ground. “You’re no help sometimes. I don’t know why I even ask for your advice.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue before shaking his head, “You see that’s where you’re wrong. You didn’t ask for my advice. I’m just telling you the honest truth. Now if you can’t take it then you shouldn’t have accepted the deal in the first place.” He shrugs, wiping his hands on his apron before grabbing a pair of scissors. He goes to the ribbon wall behind him, taping his chin with the tip of them in thought.

“What did he do this time anyway?” He says getting a hold of a lavender one and measuring it before cutting it off.

You lift up your phone, opening it quickly and navigating yourself through the homescreen before clicking the bright blue app. “This! He did this without letting me know.” You extend your phone showing him the status.

He leans his head forward squinting his eyes before breaking out into a smile. “Congratulations, I knew the two of you would be perfect together.” He jokes, making you groan out in annoyance. He chuckles, cutting up some flower bouquet paper. “Jokes aside, that is an asshole move, but what else would we expect from the devil himself.” He says grabbing the bouquet and placing it in the middle of the pale pink paper. “You knew what you were signing up for.”

“Ugh, I know, I know, I know. I don’t need you to remind me.” You push yourself off the counter as soon as the bell to the shop dings signaling someone has walked in. “It’s the aftermath of his actions that’s sending me up the wall. I really ha–” You turn around putting your best customer service smile only for it to fade away the minute your eyes come into contact with ones you’ve grown up with.

The warmth they once held for you is gone, now replaced with stone cold anger.

“Jimin.”

“Do you want to explain to me what’s going on?” He pushes his way past you and walks to the aisle full of supplies. “Because the last time we talked you told me you weren’t ready to be in a relationship and as much as it hurt I respected that but now you’re here engaged. And to Namjoon?” He says exasperated. You follow him, thanking god the shop was empty because this wasn’t where you wanted to have this conversation.

You knew it would eventually come and you would have no other option but to have it. Yet, lately the world has been throwing curveballs at you left and right since Namjoon came back into your life. So, what else could you expect?

Plus Jimin has never been one to keep his emotions bottled up. It’s one of things you admire most about him. When he was angry he would voice it. When he was sad he would cry freely and explain why. And when he was happy and in love he had no shame in letting the whole world know. Which is why you couldn’t continue anything with him anymore. Even if he was the one that made you feel comfortable again in your body and encouraged you to explore things with him. You didn’t feel anything towards him other than friendship. It’s not like you didn’t try. You did the moment you realized he had fallen for you months ago. It’s probably why you prolonged cutting things off with him, but you couldn’t do that to him anymore.

Not when he had verbally confessed and was giving you everything he should’ve been giving to someone who didn’t view him as more than a friend. The two of you should’ve listened to everyone who said it was a bad idea, but both of you were stubborn. That’s something you aren’t afraid to admit. Unfortunately the decision the two of you made almost a year ago was now coming back to bite the two of you in the ass. Though for some reason it felt like you were getting the shorter end of the stick with everything that had gone down in the last few days.

Maybe you were cursed?

“Min I can explain.” You whisper yell, reaching out to him. He retracts, throwing his hands up and steps away from you.

“No, I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I saw what that man did to you and you went back to him after cutting things off with me.” He spits out, venom laced in his voice as he cards a shaky hand through his already messy hair. He stops for a second biting his bottom lip and looks over at you.

“Were you seeing him while we were together? Were you with me when he couldn’t be with you? Because I can’t even begin to explain how fucked up that is. Especially for someone like you but I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did.” He rants, his hands shaking as he finds somewhere to put them to hide the visible anger he is feeling inside.

“It’s not like that Min, please just let me explain.” You plead, taking cautious steps closer to him. Gripping your apron tightly to keep yourself from crying. This is why you admired your oldest friend for the longest time. He wore his heart on his sleeve whereas you couldn’t let yourself cry in fear of looking pitiful and weak.

He takes one final look at you before shaking his head. “No, I don’t want anything from you. I just want you to stay out of my life.” He says before walking past you, bumping your shoulder with his and walking out.

This is what you feared the most. Losing him. You did have the intention of telling him what was happening when the time was right. This whole situation with Namjoon wasn’t something you ever intended on keeping a secret from both him and Taehyung, but of course you could never walk at your own pace.

For as long as you can remember nobody ever let you march to the beat of your own drum. Everyone around you always forced you to act whenever it was suitable for them. And right now as much as you were at fault too, you couldn’t help but blame Namjoon and his impatience.

Every day that went by, you realize how much this was inconveniencing you rather than benefiting you like you had originally thought.

“Now, I think this is the part in which Jungkook would say I told you so.” Yoongi speaks out from behind you.

You roll your eyes, shake your head and send him a glare. In a haste you untie your apron and rip it off. “I quit.” You say walking past the counter and throwing the fabric onto it.

Yoongi shrugs, trying his best to give you a reassuring smile in which it looks like he’s in pain instead. “Impossible when you only had five more minutes left of your final shift.”

That’s the last thing you hear him say before walking into the back and finally letting your tears fall down.

You’ve had your fair share of heartbreaks in the past.

When you were five you had your first boyfriend–Paul. A blooming relationship that lasted merely three days. On the first day of school he gave you a note with a poorly drawn flower and “I love you” written in the center. In his best five year old handwriting. On the second day he kissed you in the line on the way to Spanish class–dared by his best friend–Pedro. And on the last day, he played with you on the playground but on the way back to class he was holding hands with another girl.

Your first heartbreak.

Then you embarrassingly harbored a crush on him for three years after. In fifth grade–Christian had stolen your heart as soon as you saw his crooked smile and overly slicked back hair, but of course he had picked the prettier and meaner girl in class–Yuni.

Your second heartbreak.

Though, the infatuation didn’t last long, you forgot about him as soon as you entered middle school.  But you remember your heart beating out of time when you saw him at Sunday school. You were in seventh grade. Your body was changing. You felt awkward as hell listening to a sermon while fantasizing what it would be like to hold his hand.

When you were fifteen on the other hand. All hell broke loose.

You fell out of love with a lot of firsts in your life, and everything felt so black and white. Things that made you happy. That you viewed as pillars slowly started fading away. It started with ballet, then it trickled down to your studies. You didn’t feel like doing anything, your feelings were confusing and you felt angry with everything and everyone around you. To add the cherry on top your crush of possibly four years broke your heart–Jung Hoseok.

He was perfect. He was tan, tall, and handsome. He had a beautiful smile with moony eyes. He was funny and smart and loved to dance. You had met him during your first dance practice back in seventh grade. All it took was a smile, a wink and a killer freestyle for you to fall head over heels for him. He was nice, he sat with you during lunch whenever Taehyung and Jimin had a different one. He helped you out with your math homework and he even cracked jokes about your favorite boy band at the time. He would ask you about your day and make sure you didn’t skip your meals.

Jimin and Taehyung were so tired hearing you yap about him twenty four seven and so they offered to help you out. The three of you came up with a plan on how to confess to him, but all of that went down the drain one Wednesday afternoon.

The tears didn’t start falling when you saw the self proclaimed bad boy holding hands with one of the popular girls from school–Harley. They came after when you ran out of the dance studio because Of course it had to be her. God had blessed her with the perfect genes. The perfect hair, the perfect smile, the perfect body, and she was a way better dancer than you. She was beautiful and you were a colorless painting next to her that lacked detail. You had acne on your forehead, and even if you had ditched the contacts and braces a year prior. Your hair was still frizzy, and your body wasn’t desirable. Your boobs were practically non-existent, your hips were too wide and your stomach wasn’t flat

It sucked because you seriously thought he could’ve been it. He had been it for a while. You pulled back. Curating a home in a fantasy world, caging your heart in. Despite your friends being protective over you like a little sister. Their protection was nothing compared to how locked up you had your heart. That is until you met Kim Namjoon–and that also ended in a disaster. After that you didn’t give a fuck, you let men come and go. Use you for their needs until one night you awoke from your slumber. Sadly it had already been too late.

Jimin was there to repair you brick by brick. He helped you rediscover yourself in more ways than one. He helped you feel comfortable in your body. Something that was so foreign to you it took lots of trial and error. Yet, you broke him.

Despite all the heartbreak you have experienced in your life. This had to be the one that hurt the most, because you hurt him, and nothing you do will ever bring him back to you.

All because you wanted to have the upper hand.

This is why you disliked Kim Namjoon. Just like he brought you back to life he had dulled you at the same time. He made you feel special but at the same time ordinary; and because of him–though it wasn’t his entire fault you were equally to blame–you had lost one of the most important people in your life.

In honor of such event you had been avoiding the world for the entirety of three days. On the fourth day–today–you had finally forced yourself out of bed.

It was your first day of training at your new job which meant you were going to be in the same room with your nemesis AKA your fake fiance. Listening to him brag about how much better he is at everything.

Everything was a shit show.

You purposely took the longer route, hoping it would work calming you down. The Cherry Blossoms were finally blooming, signaling the end of a bitter winter and the birth of a new chapter in your life. You had hoped that Jimin and Taehyung would have been here for the ride, after you explained everything. You didn’t get the chance too and now the two of them were acting as if there wasn’t a decade of memories between the two of you.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your hot pink slacks. You weren’t going to be teaching yet, just observing some classes and following Namjoon around while he condescendingly explained what your life would be like as a University Professor.

Are you close? - N

You rolled your eyes at the message. You had been scheduled to come in at ten-thirty. It was ten on the dot and he was already rushing you. You begin to wonder if this is what it was going to be like the entire time the two of you will be together.

Don’t forget to wear your ring, we’re going to mom’s for dinner tonight. - N

The annoyed sigh made its way out of you before you could stop it. You hope that it won’t always be like this. Him making plans for you without consulting you first. Or him outing the relationship is such an irresponsible way without letting you know. If he was going to make every single decision for you, then you will call things off. You had taken the entirety of your night writing down a list of demands in order for you to continue things.

Well it was more of a list of things that annoyed you about him. A list in which you only hoped the two of you could come to a compromise. You don’t want to change him. Mostly because he is stubborn and doesn’t see anything wrong with himself no matter how many times people close to him have mapped it out for him. He won’t turn the other way keeping his ground. All you want to do is meet in the middle for however long he wants to keep this charade up.

One of my TAs  is waiting for you at the front of the building. I’m assuming you know the way. She will show you around and I will meet you for lunch. Don’t be late. - N

The third text came in making you grip your phone tightly in your hand. Even when he wasn’t around he somehow manages to make you want to scream out in anger.

I’m five minutes away.

You reply, putting your phone away and ignoring the last text he sends you. You will not let him ruin your last few minutes of freedom.

Eunseo is amazing.

She immediately greeted you in high spirits and complemented your hot pink blazer and slacks combo. And offered to carry around your bag because to her it seemed too heavy, but you refused.

Despite having attended HYBE U almost a decade ago. It hadn’t changed much. There were a few new buildings to compensate for the enrollment capacity, and a carpark where dorms used to be. But other than those slight changes nothing had changed. Even the large field in between the common hall and the dorms was still the same. The trees always bloomed beautifully in the Spring. Though you couldn’t ignore the pang you felt in your chest while walking through the field with Eunseo as she talked about her classes and how much she looked up to Mr. Kim.

This was where you found out you were in love with Namjoon all those years ago. It was Fall, the foliage was at its peak and the leaves were just starting to fall down. The two of you had decided to meet here instead of the cafe that day to enjoy the weather a little more before it turned gray. There was a particularly strong wind and the leaves came rustling down landing on the two of you making the both of you laugh. The sun was shining in the most perfect way possible, his skin glowed underneath it and something inside of you turned.

That day all you could do was think about him. You fell asleep dreaming about his smile and woke up expecting his scent to cloud over you like a blanket.

It was so beautiful yet tragic and you had never turned back since then.

That is until he turned on you.

With the way Eunseo was describing him. You could almost picture him being the same way he was when he tutored you. According to Eunseo he was funny, kind and really cared about his students. He always went out of his way to explain the material in ways his students could understand, and listened to everybody’s opinion extensively. But he also challenged them and pushed them to work harder.

He loved his job and profession more than anything in the world. It’s something you always did admire about him. Even on late nights or when the stress was too much for him to handle. He always found a way to look at it in a different light. For some time you had wished he would’ve done that with you when you confessed your feelings to him. That night he was someone you had never known. It was like something switched off inside of him and he became the heartless jackass you’ve come to know about in recent years.

“You’re very lucky. He will be such an amazing husband.” Eunseo said bringing out of your long train of thought. You stopped dead in your tracks, surprised as she giggled at your reaction.

“H-How do you know.” You clear your throat, bringing your hand up to your chest and playing with the little aquamarine pendant you never take off.

“He told me before I went down to meet with you.” She shrugs, grabbing onto the straps of her backpack. “Don’t worry he’s only told me and I don’t have many friends to tell. So your secret’s safe with me.” She winks turning around and skipping away.

You shake your head and follow her trying to keep up as best as you can. Maybe wearing heels wasn’t the brightest idea, but it was your first day on the job. You need to make a good impression on your future co-workers. In which you hadn’t met yet, but you assumed it was because Namjoon would be the one to introduce you and he was currently in a lecture.

You jump when you hear your name being called from across the field. You turn around quickly as Namjoon makes his way to you. His beige trench coat blowing in the wind. The combination of his nike’s, light blue jeans, and airy button down shirt was more casual than what you expected. Even his hair wasn’t styled. He looked stress free or a normal person.

“Mr. Kim, I have taken care of her and now I am returning her to you in one piece. Just like you instructed.” Eunseo says from beside you. You look over at her. She’s wearing such a bright smile on her face. Her proudness over such a nimble task makes you chuckle. A moment you will never forget now because it’s made you realize how much you desire to inspire someone.

The same way Namjoon has inspired her.

“Thanks Eunseo.” Namjoon replies once he gets closer, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his coat. He looks you up and down, raising his brows before turning over to his student. “This doesn’t mean you’re getting extra credit or an extension on your next paper.”

“It was worth the shot.” She smiles, sending him finger guns making him laugh. She turns to face you, “It was so nice to meet you Mrs. Kim, I’ll be sure to keep on the lookout for your class next semester.” She says giving you an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I’ll see you in class Mr. Kim.” She finishes before turning around and heading down the path leading to the library.

“She’s not going to turn in her paper on time.” Namjoon says from next to you shaking his head. “But she’s one of my best students. Somehow her papers always manage to impress me even if I threaten to take away a whole letter grade for every late paper. It somehow motivates her to do even better and I can’t.” He sighs and looks over at you. “Did you find everything okay, I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you. I told the office to schedule you after my classes today but they refused. Even being head of a department has very little perks.”

You look around quickly to see if anybody was around. There were a few students making their way to classes but each of them were engrossed with their phones or notes or conversations amongst themselves. They weren’t paying any attention to the two of you. So, he didn’t have to act so nice. “You’re so strange.” You comment, widening your eyes and covering your mouth as quickly as possible.

Namjoon rolls his eyes before sticking his hand out for you to take. “And you’re so nice.” He retaliates. The slight pang of bitterness slicing through his words. You almost feel relieved that he was still in there somewhere.

“Thanks, you bring out the best in me.” You take his hand, watching as he interlaced your fingers with his, forcefully pulling you to walk.

“Whatever, let’s just go to lunch. I’m starving. We can talk about things then.”

Okay you take it back. HYBE U was definitely still not the same.

There was a whole dining hall with the bougiest restaurants that you one hundred percent would not have been able to afford when you were a student here. You assume that’s why it’s pretty empty, except for a few faculty.

Namjoon and you had been sitting in silence since the two of you sat down after ordering. Your mouth almost fell open when you saw an avocado toast for almost twenty dollars. Thankfully Namjoon had offered to pay. Now the two of you were waiting for your overpriced food in complete silence. You weren’t sure what to say if you were honest.

Hey thanks for the job, you're still an asshole though.

Or

My best friends hate me because you ruined my life and now they think that what we have is real because you decided to make it official on Facebook. And like who uses Facebook anyway you old man.

In the end you settle for the nice quiet, listening to the ambience around you until your food arrives. The waiter carefully places your plates in the middle of the table and the two of you quietly thank him. Then Namjoon clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

“I usually bring my own lunch but I like this place whenever I forget to cook.” He cuts the toast in half and puts one of them on your plate, and makes sure you get a piece of avocado too.

“You cook?” You tilt your head to the side, picking up your utensils and poking the soft egg in the middle, letting the yolk run.

Namjoon nods, placing some pasta on your plate. “Jin taught me a couple years ago.” He hands you a napkin and starts filling up his plate. You have no idea who this Jin guy is. Namjoon says his name as if you’re supposed to know already, but you’re curious. Namjoon was a genius but he was a complete incompetent buffoon in the kitchen. You can’t explain how many times you witnessed him and Jungkook fighting in front of you whenever you were over their house because he always burned the simplest things. It would stink up the kitchen and Jungkook would lose it because he always lost at rock paper scissors and ended up being the one to clean the kitchen.

“Who’s Jin?” You wipe your mouth, and take a bite of the pasta humming in delight. Maybe the price of the food was worth it.

“He owns the gym Kook and I go too. He sometimes comes over, you’ll meet him soon.” He clarifies.

You nod, letting the silence consume the two of you once again because what else are you supposed to say. Instead you just take another bite of your food.

Maybe if you prayed hard enough, Jungkook would waltz in and break the awkward air looming between the two of you. Of course you had things to say to him, but how were you supposed to bring it up if the conversation wasn’t going down the route.

“Kook’s mad isn’t he?” Namjoon puts down his fork and takes a sip of his water. “I saw him at the gym last night and he almost beat the shit out of me.” He chuckles like it’s no big deal.

“He’s not the only one.” You retort, reaching into your bag and taking out a sheet of notebook paper in a plastic sleeve and place it on the table. Not the most professional looking thing but you were short on time.

“Lo–” Namjoon starts, you assume he’s going to defend himself and his actions. But he doesn’t get very far because you immediately cut him off.

“No, I understand you want everybody to believe whatever this is.” You say pointing between the two of you. “But there’s not just one person in this act. You can’t keep making choices without consulting me first. The brunch was fine. I was able to come up with something on the spot. But the moving in is not, nor is the fucking Facebook status or telling your student or the dinner we have with your mom tonight.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, “It’s a stupid status is not a big deal.” He takes a bite of pasta. The nonchalance in his demeanor causes the anger you had somehow managed to push away resurface once again.

“It is a big deal Namjoon. Because of that stupid status, neither Jimin or Taehyung are talking to me. You didn’t give me the chance to tell them and finding out through the internet is a pretty shitty thing.” You try to reason. He pokes his cheek with his tongue and crosses his arms.

“Isn’t Jimin the guy you were with at the party? You two were pretty close.”

“He was my best friend. But because of your actions he’s cut off all communication with me.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing the two of you aren’t friends anymore. He looked pretty comfortable touching you at Taehyung’s place.” He says looking around then you. Yeah, you’re adding this to the list of dumbshit he says. Hopefully by the end of this you’ll be able to publish a whole book.

“Are you listening to yourself?” You say tapping your ears. “You sound so dumb right now.” You shake your head, suddenly losing your appetite. He does bring out the worst in you, and you’re beginning to regret ever saying yes in the first place. “Jimin and I used to fuck and sure things were a little rocky between us since the night of the party. But I still care for him. He's still someone important to me and you’re not respecting that. You outed our relationship to the whole world without consulting me first and you keep doing shit without asking if I am okay with it.”

“It sounds like you’re just looking for someone to blame instead of owning up to whatever you did to your precious Jimin.” He shrugs, digging into his avocado toast. You truly want to dump his iced americano all over his head, but your hushed voices are getting a bit louder and people are starting to take notice.

“You’re completely missing the point. This isn’t about me or Jimin’s relationship. This is about you not willing to see that in order for this to continue you need to include me in big decisions like that. I am my own person Namjoon. I have a life outside of this, and you can’t just expect me to stop it and be at your mercy whenever you need me. What if I had plans tonight?”

“Then you cancel them. This is important.”

“Fucking hell, are you not listening to me. I honestly have no idea how to explain this to you in an easier way or without sounding like a broken record. I’m not a doll Namjoon, you can’t wind me up when you need me. I am a fucking human being and you’re not treating me like one. If this continues I will literally call this whole shit off.”  You pick up your fork and forcefully shove some pasta in your mouth.

“You can’t do that. You promised.” He accuses with his finger, furrowing his brows in anger.

You roll your eyes and swallow. “Just like you, I can also break promises.” You shrug before sliding your forgotten list towards him. “These are my rules, if you can’t follow them then I swear  Namjoon I’ll call your mom and tell her everything, and it would totally suck I mean this job seems to be amazing.” You threaten crossing your arms in front of you.

He huffs, snatching the list from the table and reading them. This time you welcome the silence as you wait for him to finish. After what seems like his third run through he puts the list down again, your bubbly handwriting makes his head hurt a little. He could never understand why you always wrote in colorful pens and marked your i’s with hearts.

In his opinion it was overrated and you were a full grown adult, not a toddler.

“You can’t expect to change me. This isn’t forever.” He says like he’s reminding you. Despite you being his fake fiance he never really assumed you would expect him to remain monogamous. He was still a man with needs and he refused to touch you in that way.

“I’m not asking you too. I’m asking you to meet me in the middle and respect me a little more. I know you hate me but I’m not your biggest fan either. Yet, I agreed to this and I am here.”

He tugs his bottom lip in between his teeth in thought. He stares into his plate of food for what seems like hours. He could do that. Maybe things won’t be so unbearable if the two of you were just walking side by side rather than on opposite ends. He also can’t deny that you’re a little right, this was harder than he assumed. You are definitely not the pliant girl he knew once. Maybe this version of you excites him a little, but of course he won’t ever admit that to anyone. He’s already having a hard time admitting it to himself. If you’re going to ask him to meet you in the middle with your annoying list of demands then he’s going to ask the same of you.

Eye for an eye.

“Fine, but only if you agree to move in with me.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don't understand why I can’t just be at my place. I mean you just said this wasn’t forever.” You mumble.

“Ahh then I guess I’ll just rip this up.” He says taking out your sheet of paper and holding it out in front of him ready to shred it.

You panic and hold your hand out to stop him. “Fuck fine, I’ll move in with you.”

“Perfect, I’ll clear out the guest bedroom this week and you can move in on Saturday.” He smirks, and resumes to his meal.

Once again he’s won, but you will find a way to have the upper hand one of these days. “This is so dumb I still don’t understand your reasoning.”

There’s a part of Namjoon that also doesn’t understand it. That part of him he’s pushed away for years. It’s the part of him that wants you there with him. It’s incredibly selfish. He’s aware he’s asking too much of you already, but he hopes having you in his home will give him an excuse to come home. Lately, he’s been tired of just his plants and artwork receiving him when he gets home.

Yet, that’s something he won’t ever admit out loud either.

“It just makes things easier.” He shrugs, shutting down the conversation. Leaving you to wonder if his actions have more meaning to them than his words.

[c0la-queen]

Absolutely melting at the idea of the Hybird!Boys nagging at Reader for her food even when they already have their own, literally just a bunch of spoiled little babies UGHHH THEYRE SO CUTEEEEE I love them sm…

Like reader’s got herself a nice meaty dinner, maybe a good cut of steak, and as shes eating she suddenly feels smt wet poking at her arm, and she looks to see what and it’s Soldier booping her arm with his nose, staring and drooling at the delicious steak, he starts trying to hop up to nip at it while reader tries push him away, but she ends up cutting a lil piece, dusting off the salt seasoning as best as she could and feeding him it anyways,

I like to think that Tord/Soldier likes snacking on other’s food, esp if its like savory salty meaty stuff yknow what I mean? I can totes see him as the asshole type to steal the other guy’s food stuff, maybe he’ll be a bit nicer to you and nag ask you first

AHHHHHHHHHH SAME THING FOR PRINCE TOOOO WHEN YOU HAVE LIKE A DELICIOUS LIL CREAMY TREATIE He would WHINEEEEE for some sooo badd you HAVE to give him some, he loves treaties sm and will be As dramatic as he can to get the sweets he wants

Going to Starbucks with him and everytime you HAVE to get him a pupcup kinda situation, so you only stop by there sometimes on occasions like when you have to get him to the vet for a checkup otherwise he’ll by crying allll the way home when you deny getting him one cause he’s already have too much and that’ll both break my heart and also annoy me sm LOOLLLLLLL

I literally have such a huge soft spot for Prince and his pompousness…I wanna shower him in kisses and babytalk and squish his face so badly he’s such a cutie patootie

The day you cook bacon for breakfast???? It’s over. Prepare for the hardest tussle in your life wrestling with Superhero for the bacon, if he already bosses you around then you know HE WILL BE RELENTLESS with the bacon, a Giant wolfdog fighting you frfr for food??? Gone…

SOLDIER ENDING UP JOINING IN TOO?1??1?11 literally actually over. It’s a battle to the death. Someones probably going to get hurt and its probably most definitely is going to be you falling over from 2 big ass wolfdogs jumping onto you and knockign you over for the bacon LMAOOOOOO

Soldier and Superhero fighting each other for it but they take it too far though and it become an actual fight for food situation…hic…Reader has to step in and stop them somehow, everyones upset, she has to make both of them 2 pieces and scolds them, they resolved and apologized nicely though at least…

And reader never makes bacon for breakfast ever again(unless its a special occasion when she wants to treat the both of them)

Really love the thought of Monster being the one that rarely nags reader for food like the others Only cause hes a bit distant and has a kinda weird ego abt it y’know, so its Reader who spoils him and tries to get him to try stuff cause he’s a good dog, he deserves it

She notices him eyeing out the food shes having curiously, sniffing at it, so she gets a small piece and asks if he wants to try it and she gets vv happy when he accepts, the others probably gets jealous at the treatment and tries to get some too lolll he probably feels SO proud and full of himself whehehe…

Omg you are SO correct and big brained for this!

Poor Reader would absolutely never get a moment of rest with these four eccentric wolf dogs.

Before adopting them, she definitely had a habit of sitting on the couch with her dinner and watching YouTube videos about niche internet drama (yes I'm projecting) but now she's realized that, to the boys, this is simply an open invitation. I guarantee that, at first, Soldier wouldn't even beg her for the food. He'd be the type to just reach over and start sniffing at her plate. He's not even trying to be sneaky about it! That bastard would have the audacity to look her in the eyes while trying to take food off her plate! She tries to scold him about it, but he simply does not listen - in his mind, there's nothing wrong with what he's doing. So she's taken to sitting at the dining room table and watching YouTube videos on her phone instead. (Soldier will still put his head on her leg and stare at her expectantly.)

Reader is simply Just A Girl 💅, so we know our self-love queen would go get herself a sweet treat all the time. It varies, usually whatever she's craving at the time. There have been times where she's got a random craving for something she doesn't have, and will get up and leave her house to go get it (the boys get so annoyed and huffy). But she should know that no matter what it is she gets, Prince will want a bite. He'd be cute about it, too - whining and pouting and blinking up at her with those baby blue eyes. Eventually, Reader would giggle and give in, with the warning of "Just one bite, baby." Then she'd share a little piece with him. If it's something that isn't safe for dogs, she'd be less willing to share with him, insisting that it'll hurt him. Still, he'd whine for it. (It's not Reader's fault that she doesn't know he can have them!) And yes, I feel like Prince would be the most well behaved in the car, and the best around people, so he's the one that gets to join her on outings more often. She made the mistake of stopping by a coffee shop and getting him a pup cup ONE TIME, and now he's hooked. Every time they pass by that coffee shop (he knows that it's Reader's favorite, since the baristas know her by name) he will bark and howl and work himself up into a tizzy until Reader finally sighs and gives in. After he gets that pup cup, he's back to being well-behaved and a sweetheart. Reader hates it. Plus, people would fawn over Prince in public since he's such a pretty boy. He absolutely eats it up!

God save Reader if she decides to make bacon one morning. It's not something she does often - she probably decided to do it this time as a special occasion. Maybe it's the morning of her birthday or a holiday. Either way, she decided to make a big breakfast for herself. Which included bacon.

Superhero is normally the first of the four to wake up. From what Reader can gather, Soldier takes the night shift. He stays awake through the night, watching out the windows and sometimes patrolling the house. Because of this, Soldier tends to sleep during the day. Superhero then takes the mantle of "guard dog" during the day. Prince and Monster will sometimes take the night shift instead, but it's normally Superhero and Soldier.

Still, Superhero has a routine of patrolling the house the moment he wakes up, checking for anything wrong. If Reader is making bacon, though? Superhero is glued to her legs in an instant. She'd laugh at first and lightheartedly tell him no. He wouldn't give up. He'd escalate to putting his front paws up on her shoulders and trying to reach the bacon himself. Reader would definitely have to half pick up/half drag him away from the stove. He'd boof and snap his teeth demandingly, as if he's entitled to a piece of this bacon and how dare you not let him have a piece! Reader, always one to fight him on everything, would be adamant not to.

Then Soldier enters the scene. As I said before, Soldier usually sleeps through the first half of the day. But the moment the smell of bacon spreads through the house? She hears claws clacking against the floor as he barrels into the kitchen. It would probably be the most excited Reader has ever seen Soldier, tail wagging and eyes shining brightly. Superhero immediately growls and snaps at Soldier. Reader would just let them tussel at first, using the distraction to finish cooking her bacon. Eventually, she realizes "Oh shit those are NOT play growls-" and quickly runs over to the two to separate them. It takes the promise of two pieces of bacon each to get them to finally settle down.

Reader never makes bacon in her house ever again.

Meanwhile, Monster would be different. Where the other three would be swarming her legs the moment she starts cooking herself dinner, Reader notices that Monster is always sitting patiently to the side. She has to subdue the others by continuously feeding them bites of what she's cooking, but Monster never begs for any. He's the only one that she can eat on the couch with, because he'll lay on top of her feet and won't try to steal her food. But she does notice him glancing at her food. So, since he's always been such a sweetheart, Reader would happily offer Monster food. He would take it slowly, hesitantly. But he feels better after Reader cooes and praises him for being so good. His tail would wag contently. Still, he would never bother Reader for her food. We love Monster in this household <3 I will say, I like to think Tom personally doesn't like bacon. So, if Reader tried to offer some to Monster because it's only fair, he would sniff it, then huff and sneeze and turn his nose away. Doesn't bother Reader, though. Just means it's one less rowdy wolfdog trying to tackle her.

[single-malt-scotch]

Bdubs' speech patterns & quirks

i made a post a while back about Bdubs' typing habits and ya know what. ill be a little stupid obsessed and unhinged again and do this one. might be useful for fics.

been watching this man from day one and im trying to throw together everything i can in my head. he really hasnt changed that much if we arent considering a shift of humor and energy-- but i will regard it at certain points for clarity of how his speech is handled.

General speech pattern

Through time Bdubs has gained more energy in his voice, and more confidence in how he speaks as a person presenting in his videos. But he still has his quirks, quirks that have remained forever.

biggest one. There is a big habit of stuttering in some sense. Either on the same words with the intended phrase:

Example: "You-- you don't- you don't understand!"

or a phrase that is altered during the stutter:

Example: "Yeah but-- you-- I don't think you get it..."

They aren't the stutters people default to in most cases (no "y-yes" "i th-thought.." etc-- in *some* cases you can throw this in but i suggest the bigger ones and never make it too frequent).

Theyre long and very obviously, and make him take longer to get his words out. sometimes it cuts his train of thought and he stops his sentences, maybe even starts over entirely.

in addition to that, bdubs also cuts words in a way i think most people will- goin', gonna, thinkin' etc. however at times he will enunciate the whole word for effect (plays into his "exaggeration" described below)

With his awkward pacing and stumbling, there are times where he fumbles and might say something in a "weird" way. sometimes, it becomes purposeful! he'll keep doing it when its funny, but you can tell its more of a slip than on purpose at first. there are far too many examples of this, but its obvious that he picked up the funny way of saying 'hermitcraft' on purpose at a certain point, for example. this may be hard to get across in writing however and its not as important.

bdubs loves to exaggerate. personality wise, hes like this obviously. and it plays into how he talks. boisterous is the best word. dont be afraid to go hard on the exclamation points or question marks! "!!" and "??" may describe what you want when you need to imply more of his noise.

Exclamations, regarding swearing

Bdubs doesnt swear anymore, but its worth addressing it, in context to what... replaces it, in a sense. or if youre writing something based in the years when he did swear.

Lets get one thing straight. bdubs does not say fuck. like, even back when he swore. there may have been some very light instances of words slipping (the old video where he completely bleeped out his words may have likely had that) but it is not how he spoke on the regular.

bdubs' most used 'bad' words were "damn", not as often "ass". he used a lot of 'safe' words-- shoot, crap (crapper, directed at someone/thing), frick (fricker, directed at someone/thing), dang ('dang man'), freaking (this is exclaimed very strong when it comes up, as if he was saying "fucking". comment phrase "very freaking funny!")....

these are the most frequent choices. id say bdubs has the capability of more swears, but it would be a last resort/under extreme duress.

Other notable phrases

Some of these fall under 'exclamations' at times, but i wanted to address the phrases he says in response to things, one subject is what people like him say in place of things like "oh god". you can see this in some hermits too, but bdubs does not say "oh (my) god". there is no exclamation of "god" when he needs to say something like this.

some are more or less frequent in the overall timeline, but you will likely hear...

"judas priest!" "oh goodness!" "oh jeez/jeezer!" if there is any phrase regarding god its a sorta "dont use the lord's name in vain" situation. none of the "oh god" stuff.

in terms of other frequent phrases,

"Trying my heart out/off" pops up a lot, and it means that he is trying hard at something whilst also saying he is 'putting his whole heart into it'.

Older/less frequent these days:

the good ol 'pet names'. it is/was never a super frequent thing (that bdubs/etho ooge video was surprisingly frequent...) "sweetheart" is most likely, "baby" but not always in a 'pet name' way, just a casual word to throw out at nothing. might get a "darlin'" in there too. the instance of calling someone specific those things is not super common, but still important to note.

a final notable one is "boy", directed at others in a more like. jokingly stern way. "What are you doin' boy?" a direct aim at a person, perhaps in a (joking) accusatory way at times? (wanted to comment there was an early ooge instance where etho picked it up as well lol). and imo i saw this way more in the early days, less so now.

Conclusion

bdubs has a variety of expressions in his speech. generally very relaxed and sometimes even careless, hes not tryin to focus too hard on every word he speaks. which is only natural! imo i think his personality is what affects this more than anything. hes silly, extroverted, and acts first.

his 'loudness' and stutter is important and it can be hard to express through words. outside of the way you describe the way he tackled talking in fics, seriously dont be afraid to double those punctuation marks imo. definitely dont be afraid of those big 'stutters'!! its probably the most defining part of his voice imo. i hope this is useful and feel free to add on or ask about it!

[vinsmokewife]

finally, some good fucking food

day ten of a very zosan centric kinktober - rimming

Zoro's hungry and Sanji offers him food. He's not interested in eating food.

“I’m hungry...” 

No, that wasn’t the annoying cries of Luffy calling out and demanding food like Sanji might have thought it was as those words tend to come out of his mouth. Sanji, due to a habit of hearing that, might have thought it was him but no, didn’t hear Luffy say that. He turned around to see Zoro standing by the kitchen door, closing it behind him. 

“Well... there’s leftovers in the fridge...” Sanji said dismissively as he continued to work on the dishes from lunch time. After he was done there, he would be working on getting midday snacks (mostly for Nami and Robin and the others...if they were lucky) so he didn’t have time to make anything especially for Zoro but he got the idea when he felt two strong arms grab him from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist. Sanji almost instinctively whacked Zoro with the glass plate with the intention of kicking him to send him flying but he did not. 

“I’m not interested in eating food...” The swordsman spoke lowly in Sanji’s ear. There was only one thing Zoro wanted in his mouth. He’d been thinking about it all day. He liked watching Sanji suck him off. As much as Sanji would deny it, he loved how much Sanji seemed to be into it. However, sometimes, Zoro wanted to do something for Sanji. Sometimes, Zoro wanted to eat Sanji out. 

“I’m busy,” Sanji was indeed busy. As much as he wanted to indulge Zoro in his little fantasy, he also had a lot of work to do today. 

“Come on...you never leave a man hungry. I am absolutely famished here, cook,” Zoro’s hand reached down to grab at that perfect rear of Sanji’s. He just had such a nice shape to his ass, and he needed to have a taste, “Let me eat you out...” 

It wasn’t often Zoro was being oddly nice about something. Normally, as per the nature of their relationship, Zoro orders him about and Sanji agrees to do it anyway, but he was being oddly nice about this considering this was probably so tame anyway. 

“Ugh. Fine... but only this...anything else any you’ll need to wait till tonight,” Sanji placed the plate down and turned around to see Zoro standing with his arms around him, “Got that, mosshead,” 

“Yeah, yeah I hear you...” Zoro said but didn’t waste time by beginning to unbutton Sanji’s suit pants. Sanji sighed something along calling Zoro a brute for being so impatient, but Zoro was a man on a mission. He wanted to eat the cooks ass like it was his last meal and he was going to make sure that Sanji really enjoyed it so he could eat his words about it later. 

Once he managed to get Sanji’s pants down, he then removed his boxers and helped him get out of them. Although Sanji protested because ‘you can’t just have sex on the counter you brute that’s where we eat food’ Zoro didn’t care about that as he picked Sanji up and placed him on the table. He got Sanji to lay down on the table and spread the cook’s legs. 

Zoro stood up and looked at the cook. His face was flushed, and his cock was starting to harden. He could see what he wanted; that perfect puckered hole. All for the taking. All for him. 

“You look like the most perfect meal I’ve seen in my life...” 

Sanji flushed although didn’t know whether to be offended that he looked better than his own cooking, but he couldn’t get a word in before Zoro leaned in front of him and began to dive in. Zoro, despite clearly enjoying this act never ate him out much because Sanji always felt it was a little...strange at first. The feeling of Zoro’s tongue against his hole always felt weird at first. There was also that whole thing about a man eating him out which Sanji still found to be taboo to him. 

Zoro didn’t care. He had concluded a long time ago that he had no attraction to women. This wasn’t taboo to him in the same way that it was to Sanji, but he knew Sanji thought it was a little strange, so he merely used his tongue to get the hole nice and wet for him. Sanji always tasted great, but he expected that from someone who was big on cleaning. His tongue and his lips wet the rim. To ease off any weirdness that Sanji probably felt, he reached his hand up to stroke the cook’s cock in hopes that that might ease some of it for him and help him relax. 

Which it did. It started to bring out more moans from Sanji who eagerly bucked his hips upwards. 

It felt good. Weirdly, it began to felt good and Zoro could tell so the swordman went in. His tongue slips inside the wet hole and wiggles while his lips sucked on the puckered rim. This earned more moans from Sanji as Zoro’s hand began to move faster in slow yet firm strokes over his cock. 

“Zoro...”  

Zoro looked up to see Sanji’s face was flushed red and his eyes were watching him in that lustful expression. There wasn’t a hotter sight to him than that.  

Zoro leaned his head up but only so he could spit some drool across Sanji’s hole so he could go in again. His tongue fully slipping in as his lips massaged and sucked on the rim. Sanji’s hips were getting more frantic, so Zoro knew that he was close to cumming. He honestly could be down here for hours making Sanji come over and over again until he was spent and seeing stars. However, he knew that Sanji had other things to be getting on with. Plus, he was satisfied with this being their little visit for today. 

Zoro continued to work messily. His tongue and lips doing work on the puffy hole as Zoro’s had stroked Sanji. Eventually, it became too much, and Sanji came with a yelp, walls fluttering around Zoro’s tongue as he came all over his hand. Zoro continued to eat Sanji out until he was too sensitive. He then pulled his head away before licking the cum off his hand in a weirdly lewd way that Sanji hadn’t expected to see. Sanji’s head was against the table. 

Finally, Sanji leaned up, looking half lidded at Zoro, “Satisfied?” 

Zoro laughed, “Satisfied. The best meal I’ve had in a while,” 

[theerurishipper]

After learning about the leaks about Paris special, I just want to say that all of the comics and headcanons fans created speculating how they would be in emoverse are much better than what we got. Wouldn't it be ironic to say that they're born evil like Chloe in ogverse and that some backstory doesn't justify their wrongdoings. They are evil and very much proud of it with either their cringe worthy fails or terrifying terrorism

Agreed. Like, I don't mind the arc they were intending for with Chloe, I don't mind them showing that some people can't change, but then they'll redeem the terrorist/abuser. And they'd rather say that Chloe is just inherently evil without exploring or acknowledging the backstory and motivations they wrote for her. That's the issue here. And now Shadybug and Claw Noir are going to get some half-assed redemption. Honestly, I would have preferred them being evil, you know, like an everyone has a good and bad side in them and who you are depends on the choices you make kind of thing, especially since Miraculous is so fond of redemptions.

I get it, that's just my wish and the show doesn't have to follow my exact preferred storyline to be good, but the information we have doesn't paint a very promising picture either way. Considering the bullshittery of the Season 5 finale and Gabriel's shitty-ass redemption, it really just feels like this special is pushing the Gabe Is Good agenda in our face, you know? I mean, Guardian Angel? For the child abuser in our main continuity? The one who doesn't seem like he did a good job in the alternate timeline either seeing as his son was so unable to process his grief that he became a magical terrorist? This guy is called Guardian Angel? I mean, maybe he did his best, but we won't know until we watch the special, and the show has a habit of blaming Adrien for Gabriel's actions anyway, so. It just feels like it's pushing the "some people are good and some people are evil no matter in what continuity, and Marinette and Adrien are good deep down, and so is Gabriel. But Chloe is just always evil lmaooooo." I don't mind it too much, but shit's still kinda weird, man.

And like, what do you mean "Shadybug and Claw Noir don't even like each other?" That's kind of the whole appeal for a lot of people lmao, and they hate each other? I mean, I'm not going to judge it based on my expectations and say it's bad just because I didn't get what I wanted, but... really? And I'm also gonna go out on a limb and say Hesperia and Claw Noir have no personal interaction despite them being father and son and Adrien's motivation being to bring Emelie back. Like, at a certain point, it crosses the line from being my insignificant expectation to being just... bad choices and an inability to create proper payoff. I think Hesperia interacts more with Marinette than Adrien in this special. Getting major Season 5 finale-esque "Marinette replaces Adrien in his arc" vibes.

But I'm not disappointed, surprising as that sounds. I never expected it to be good. I was always just here to see Claw Noir on screen so I can properly pick him up and toss him into my fanfics. I was excited for the special, sure, but I didn't have my hopes up and the leaks seem to have proved me right. Idk, maybe they'll surprise me. I doubt it though.

Thank you for your ask!

[avissapiens]

Jockbull Summer Week 1 (12/11/23-18/11/23) - Set A

Model used is Tsonghan Wu

1 & 2.

I don’t typically train with push ups all that often, but I picked this as my personal goal because there’s such a potent jock energy about being able to show off and crank out effortless reps of push ups. Massive high school sports star energy. But we started small. Only managed 22 on my first day. Granted it was immediately after a Push session.

The second attempt however I integrated the competitive element. I went to one of my best friends from back home, K. Total stud who i’ve always envied and idolized. I expect he’ll come up a few more times before this is over so might as well give him some designation. I asked him to make it a contest to beat his score. He hit 30 in one go. I pushed myself so fucking hard because I would not lose to him. I was gonna kick his ass. And I did. I hit 31 and then spent a good minute on the floor unable to get up. It felt so fucking good tho. Increasing by so much. Pushing and winning against my bro. It made my night. 3rd attempt i hit 32. If i keep increasing. Keep pushing. Maybe i’ll get to 100 by the end.

3.

The first step is an important milestone. Obviously as a Self-employed writer/full time student in a different country I don't have a MASSIVE collection of clothes to chuck out (you all can change that). But there are definitely a few that I already know are going to get the boot when the time comes. The reason this one was so important for me and Jockrs is because we both felt that as long as those old clothes were an option, I’d keep defaulting to them out of habit. Over-sized, drab, boring. Hiding the gainz and the new person i want to become. So the first piece I threw out was a fairly cheap ugly grey long sleeved shirt that I bought when I first moved to NZ. 6XL. Bought 3 sizes too big for me at a time when I was 3 sizes too big for me. And as I've leaned down and put on muscle, all this shirt does is wash me out and make me swim in fabric. It had to go. But I still feel indebted to it. It was a go-to piece of clothing on my worst Dysmorphia days when I felt like a fat, disgusting piece of shit. It helped me deal with the anxiety of being in a new place where I clearly didn’t look like I belonged. It helped me hide when I needed to hide. But i don’t need to hide anymore.

4.

Unfortunately I couldn't really work on this as much as I wanted. Jokers was still in exam mode so some of the shared tasks that required him were a bust. That said, I did slip a few more "dudes", "mans" and "bros" into my chatter with gym bros. And I went as far as coaching some dudes through my leg day workout. This is one I'm eager to make progress on because it's so antithetical to what I've always been. My speech has always been a weird indistinguishable hybrid. I’ve been mistaken for American, British and Canadian. I’ve had my voice described as “trans-Atlantic”, Despite coming from the Caribbean. I was always discouraged from indulging too much in dialect and slang when I was young. “Speak properly”. Combined with being fairly bookish and advanced, maybe that led to some good things in the long run. My skill with words, language and voice are unique. They’re why you all love me. But it did mean that by the time I was in secondary school I was a little alienated from my peers. I didn’t talk like them. I didn’t want to either but it was rough always being mistaken for a foreigner on soil you have never left in your life. In a sense, me picking up an even more exaggerated americanized accent is taking that full circle. Developing a bit more control over my speech to inhabit an ideal I have always longed for. Sounds cool, rite brah?

5.

Again, one restricted by Jockrs being in exam mode. I didn’t want to get too far. But we finally watched the first episode of the 2018 series. One of the rare occasions where the dub is notably better than the sub. But god. What a wild ride. 10/10. No notes. It's just pure gas. And that first episode really struck a chord with me. Something visceral about being palpably perceived as a threat. Emanating danger from you that lessers can sense in their bones. Actually being a weapon in human form. I get such a thrill from that concept. I understand why the toxic tik tok gym bro crowd latches on to this show so much. I think I will too.

[momo-t-daye]

For the ask game - 1, 8, 12, 16, 19, 23, 25, 28, 32, 34, 37, 40 😁 just threw a bunch of numbers in there because I love your opinions!

1. Canon I outright reject

You know, I don’t think there’s anything in the books about Snape that I outright reject all the time (I can’t say as much about the movies because I am very bad at paying attention to movies and didn’t watch all of them but the movies aren’t exactly canon).  There’s plenty of things I like to use as divergence points, to think about how this or that change would alter a character’s trajectory and whether that would be sufficient to escape the gravitational pull of the narrative, but I tend to think of canon as a scaffold and fanwork as a mirror (kind of like those mirrors dentists use to look at things you can’t see directly you know?  But also in a funhouse way because I enjoy silliness).

8. Unpopular opinion about them

Hm…. Snape is a very very weird dude who has never been anywhere near “cool” in his life and a virtuoso petty asshole, but that’s what I enjoy about him as a character???

I don’t think he’d be able to live alone in the woods/Jamaica/Antartica/etc. relishing his well-earned peace and quiet. He needs other people around him, partially as an audience to see just how little he needs those other people and partially because there is nothing quite so energizing and enjoyable as intentionally annoying other people (I’m not saying he’s an extrovert, but he sure isn’t 100% pure introvert either…)

12. Crack headcanon

He sleeps with his eyes open. He is only aware that he sleeps with his eyes open after Lily (on behalf of a too terrified Tuney) asked him why he did that.

As a kid he was very proud of his ability to mentally calculate a running total cost even though he had no money or intention to pay for his parma violets.  He dislikes decimalisation, which hit shortly before he went to Hogwarts (because other people keep insisting that base-10 is so much easier to use), and value-added tax, which hit while he was in Hogwarts (because it messes with his mental math and budgeting).

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

He desperately wants his father’s approval.  No matter what praise Albus Dumbledore or Lord Voldemort or any other substitute father figure might place on him, the unobtainable opinion of a working-class muggle man holds so much more weight.

Has everyone seen this lovely picture by the very talented @sneverussape?

19. Vices/bad habits

Severus lives off of spite (not a brassica vegetable despite what he might tell Madame Pomfrey), black coffee, and cheap cigarettes.  He avoids alcohol, if only because of his father, but he has his own addictions (one of which is self-denial). 

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

As an adult in Harry’s era, rust and withered grass- the disquieting hint of blood spilled and the temporary sweetness of chaff left behind after the harvest would smell like being haunted by a time that has already passed.

For my self-indulgent AU young Sev I think there’d be more river muck and apples ripe for scrumping.

25. 3 things they’d want to take with them if they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere

Severus would try to claim that a full set of cauldrons and a closet full of potions ingredients should only count as two items and his wand could be his third item.  Whatever magical entity or event that was dropping him in the middle of nowhere would probably not agree.  His next attempt (his wand, a portkey back to his quarters at Hogwarts and/or Malfoy Manor and/or Spinner’s end, and a well-stocked RV to wait in until the Portkey was ready to go) would get his ass dropped in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on his back (if he’s lucky).  He’d survive just fine and get back to somewhere other than “the middle of nowhere”, but he won’t have fun and anyone he encountered on his way out of the middle of nowhere wouldn’t have fun and everyone is back home is going to know just how little fun he had getting dropped in the middle of nowhere.

(He grew up with so little, he has a bit of a tendency to hold onto whatever he has and be deeply suspicious of anyone trying to make him pare his belongings down.  Yet in the 1997-1998 school year, he spent his time slowly winnowing down his belongings and tidying up his affairs on the assumption that he would not survive and no one would want to or care to clean up after him).

28. How they feel about [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

Instead of rambling about Sev and Lily and how they were best friends and how much I want to jump up and down and scream that they were best friends and how entangled and enmeshed one can get within the intensity of childhood friendship, I think I’ll plunk Nymphadora Tonks in those brackets!

He thinks Tonks is wasting her talents working as an Auror for the Ministry, claims her habit of mimicking him was deeply annoying even if it did come in handy when he needed to supervise three detentions (including hers) at once, and professes complete disinterest even though he refuses to use any mug in the staff room other than the humorously oversized “student’s tears” mug her NEWTs cohort bought for him.

…at some point I’ll get around to writing a one-shot about how Nymphadora Tonks became one of the leading experts on Polyjuice Potion that I’ve had semi-outlined for over a year now… 

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh

Ooh, this is a tough one- particularly for Harry-era Severus Snape!

I think when a student who has been trying and putting the effort in suddenly gets it, when something clicks and they get excited about the implications and the possibilities provided by potions.  He isn’t equipped to deal with impatient and distractible children that treat his subject as mandatory torture, but someone else being excited about academic points and caring and being a nerd about someone he cares about?  I think that would make him smile.

34. How they react when they are feeling X emotion (sad, angry, excited, scared, etc.—can specify as many as you like)

As a kid, I think he talked with his hands (particularly after meeting Lily who talked with her hands and never got walloped for taking up space) and the more excited he became the more his hands and arms moved trying to corral the world into his enthusiasm.  There were times when Severus and Lily were both so excited Tuney would swear there were seven hands waving around between the two of them.

A great deal froze on Halloween 1981, calcified, and many emotions could only exit via the anger expressway.

37. What they really think about themselves

Oof…

Especially as an adult, Severus does not think very good things about himself.

I think, as an act of self-defense, he tries very hard to not think about himself at all…

40. Favorite book

Not a book, but still media: I think Star Trek aired on the BBC at a very formative time for Severus.  As a Hogwarts student (and after) he probably scoffed at fantasy fiction for not portraying magic as he knew magic, but science fiction was something he could sink into.  Did he try to recreate melange/spice from Dune in his third year?  Maybe. Is he mortally offended that Harry only knows Dune as “that movie with Sting wearing the, uh, you know, the, erm, well, thingy…”?  Yes.

[izerdo]

Butterflies with brown hair

So I've been hoarding the start of this g/t Karlnapity fic for awhile now, so I thought I'd go ahead and throw it in here because I'm unsupervised and I can't be stopped. Once I finally have this out of my drafts I’ll probably start writing more for it. let me know what you guys think!

-------------------------------------------------------

There weren't many borrowers in the smp, not that Karl knew of at least. He had met one when L'manburg was still standing, but since then he's only seen those big things. Streamers they called themselves, Karl had gotten into the habit of watching them more than he really needed to. One that particularly interested him was an avian hybrid named Quackity. Karl was sitting on top of a chest watching Quackity pace around his office shuffling papers in his hands. The borrower couldn't really explain why he enjoyed watching this streamer. Maybe it was the little jokes he'd make that always got a laugh out of Karl, or how he rambled on about the most random of things, or maybe it was that fluttering Karl felt in his stomach when he could see Quackity's smile. Karl shook those thoughts from his head, he had already borrowed what he needed from the chests, he needed to get back home. As Karl stood to leave a loud screech rang out causing the borrower to jump and lose his balance, sending him falling off of the chest he was on. Karl braced himself for a harsh impact but was surprised when he landed in something softer, cloth, Karl looked up to find himself in the hood of Quackity's coat. "What the fuck was that?!" Quackity exclaimed, Karl ducked down thinking he was caught when he heard the door swing open. "Quackity you'll never believe what I found!" A second voice called out "Was it that weird ass screaming??? That scared the shit out of me! What the fuck did you find?" Karl felt the giant hybrid's footsteps swaying his coat hood "So I was out mining when I see this weird moss, I go to investigate, my vision goes dark, and I hear this!" Karl covered his ears as the screech sounded a second time, much louder than before. "Yeah that doesn't tell me what it is," Quackity said "and honestly we should talk about this new find later, Foolish, I need to get home before I lose my mind," the second streamer, Foolish, laughed at the comment "This Kinoko deal is really getting to you, isn't it. Well, you go rest, Quackity, I'll finish up as much paperwork I can, see you soon?"  Quackity let out a relieved sigh "Thanks Foolish, I'll see you soon," Karl felt the avian begin walking again and ducked further into the hood in an attempt to stay hidden as Quackity walked past the other streamer and out of the office. Karl was about to jump out and escape when he felt his world quickly shift as the casino owner pulled his hood up over his head, spilling the borrower over his shoulder. "The fuck was tha- ah!"Quackity exclaimed, staring at the borrower, both of them frozen in place. Karl broke the silence first "HEY HOT STUFF COME HERE OFTEN" he blurted out, cringing as he realized what he just said. But to his surprise, Quackity laughed, a soft but genuine laugh that didn't seem to come from nerves or awkwardness, Karl felt his cheeks heat up noticing that this streamer looked really cute when he laughed. He was about to follow up his panicked flirting when Quackity sighed "I'm leaving," he said, cupping his hand around Karl and swiftly yet carefully setting him on the ground "I've dealt with enough I'm not going any crazier until Monday." He said, walking towards the exit of the building. Karl stood there, dumbfounded as he watched Quackity leave, it took Karl much longer than it should've to go back to his home in the walls. And much longer than that to get any sleep that night.

----------------------------------

Karl couldn't stop thinking about that stupid streamer, even while he was out borrowing he kept hoping he would see Quackity again. It took two whole days before Karl saw him back in his office. The avian was once again messing with papers and mumbling to himself. Karl knew he shouldn't stay, he shouldn't even be in that room, he got everything he'd need for at least the next two weeks. But how could he leave Quackity when he looked so stressed out and upset? Karl climbed down from the stack of chests at the back of the room and made his way to Quackity's desk, he hid underneath so he could hear the streamer's mumbling. "Stupid fiery bastard, why does he have to make me do all this paperwork just for a trade deal it's not like it's anything big it's literally just iron but noo~ 'We can't just trade Quackity what about taxes?' What do you MEAN taxes Sapnap we ARE the government!" Quackity questioned to himself, his small outburst rewarding a laugh from Karl. The avian sighed and Karl took Quackity's pause to make his presence known. "So does work always stress you out this much?" He called out, hearing Quackity's jolt of surprise jostle his desk "What the fuck who said that?" The streamer asked. Karl laughed a bit at Quackity's surprise "I thought you'd remember, since you seemed so shocked when I sort of, fell on you."  There was a prolonged silence that made Karl want to jump out of his skin. Quackity finally responded after what felt like forever. "That was real?" He said, Karl had to admit he was a little disappointed that Quackity thought their encounter was some kind of hallucination, but he continued nonetheless. "Yeah it was real, you could never make up a face as handsome as mine," Karl said smugly, hearing a chuckle come from above him "So where are you now? I can hear you plain as day but I can't-" Quackity paused a second "are you in my hood again?" Karl couldn't help but laugh as the streamer moved to check his hood "No I'm not in your hood, that was an accident." Karl paused as he remembered, this was an accident, he wasn't supposed to be there at all. Borrowers were never supposed to be known by bigger species, but here he was talking to one. Karl was snapped from his thoughts when he heard Quackity speak again "I, um, I never got your name, mine's Quackity," the awkwardness in his voice made Karl's continued silence all the more uncomfortable. "K- um, my name's Karl," the borrower said "I- I shouldn't be here," he continued sheepishly, Quackity paused "why?" He asked. Karl couldn't think of what to say, he couldn't think of why other than 'big people bad' but he obviously couldn't just say that. His mind wandered, nearing places he hadn't thought about in ages, until he heard Quackity say his name "Karl, if you really need to go that's fine, but if you can stay, I definitely wouldn't mind the company," he said amongst Karl's prolonged silence. The borrower wrestled with his thoughts for what felt like hours, he had already gotten this far there was no turning back. Quackity knew about him, he knew his NAME for prime's sake! Karl almost wished he hadn't literally fallen into this mess, now he genuinely wanted to reveal himself to a streamer and why? Because he liked the way Quackity laughs? Karl clenched his fist and pulled out his hook, "I'm coming up," he said, tossing his hook up to the desktop. As Karl climbed he though to himself about just how crazy it all was. He wasn't alone, he was talking to someone, he wasn't just listening to them talk to someone else. As Karl pulled himself up onto the desktop he caught a glimpse of Quackity quickly turning his head to face the papers in front of him. "So are you gonna answer my question or just stare at your papers?" Quackity's cheeks grew pink as he returned his gaze to where Karl stood "Huh?  Oh- y-yeah! I mean-" Karl couldn't help but chuckle at the avian's stammering. Quackity let out a sigh "Yeah, this paperwork is fucking awful," he said, laughing a bit at his own misery. "Then why are you doing it?" Karl asked with genuine curiosity, "I can't just not do it, these are important documents, and if my country is gonna have any power in this stupid smp I have to do all this tedious bullshit," Karl frowned as Quackity sighed, setting his head in his free hand, "Unless something forces my hand I don't really have a choice," there was a short pause before Karl smiled, an idea coming to him. The borrower ran over and threw himself over Quackity's hand "break time!" He yelled. Quackity jumped a bit in surprise "W- Karl what are you doing?" He asked, giggling as Karl wrestled the pen out of Quackity's hand. "I'm forcing your hand," Karl said triumphantly, "so now you have to take a break, treat yourself." Quackity pulled the pen away from Karl and placed it on the desk "Okay," he finally said, "I can take a break for like, five minutes," Karl pumped his fists in celebration "Hell yeah!" He hollered. Karl shifted his gaze upwards to see Quackity wearing the same smile that gave him those butterflies, only this time Quackity was smiling at him. Karl hadn't noticed he went silent until Quackity spoke up "So, I don't suppose you'd mind if I ask you a few things, would you?" He asked, not seeming to mind the borrower sprawled over his hand. Karl's lips quirked into a smile "I don't think I'd mind," he said confidently "I don't think I'd mind at all,".

[kyoghurts]

so uh there's this guy...

been friends for almost a year now. knew nothing about him until we're under the same strand. i never heard his name before even though our classrooms were a mile apart and in under the same hallway back in junior highschool (it sounds as if its been so long wtf). funnily enough, i had an ex fling at that time who is his classmate and yet he never saw me even when i visit his classroom on multiple occassions.

so, first year of senior, we didnt interact all that much during the first few months. to me, he's often detached and unapproachable with the lack of presence he fills in the class. i've never seen him interact with others except for two guys hes close with. but i always wanted to be his friend, partially bc his best friend — lets name him J — was friendly and that we had vv similar tastes in anime + yap abt math and/or anime. and i thought that J and this guy — i'll call him R — were the same, or similar, idk.

the first time i talked to him. it was around october-november and midterm exams were around the corner. we had a long quiz on calc and we needed to prepare and everyone was revising each other, collectively agreeing to help out each and everyone. i was in front of the class writing on the board with some formulas and talking to the Smarties /gen when R kind of watched us, and stood beside me for a few minutes and asked me if i could tutor him. we did. i sat with him and taught him until we arent revising anymore and before i knew it - we were yapping abt ourselves and we just- clicked. i never fucking knew he'd be THAT talkative. he yapped a LOT enough for me to instantly got to know him better. from then on, i made a habit to sit beside R and J every chance i get. and before i continue, i would like to make it clear that it was all very platonic.

i was with a cosplayer back then. i never thought of R beyond anything like that. R and J and me were like the weird trio in the corner sometimes. often bickering or laughing our asses off. they're both very great guys. they tell me stories about themselves and they let me ramble abt my stupid hyperfixations on breaktime.

but then as days pass. i often get the feeling that people are perceiving me and R in the wrong way, particularly my classmates. J here is the victim, receiving weird questions from my classmates, from "is kenji & R have a thing?" to "are they flirting?" and "they look oddly close to each other, did R/Kenji asked each other out?" and its reasonable !!! we just suddenly went from strangers to buddies in just a day, so i didnt mind it. in fact i laughed when i learned this, who knew they'd be so curious abt me or R. then again, we were introverts who didnt seem like the type to be interested in that aspect.

around oct-nov, i was also in a lot of turmoil with my feelings for the cosplayer dude. the fact that we were long distance didnt help either. basically, he went cold and didnt talk to me for months. and then december, he decided to act like nothing happened and flirted w me until i couldnt handle it. the push and pull he did really fucked me up, to the point that i wrote too many poems abt him LMAOOO, after our christmas party. that night, cosplayer dude confessed for the second time and that he wanted to make things right. so we did start over. R supported me and cosplayer dude, he said cosplayer dude’s really cool for what he did, despite the months of being a jerk, he did everything to prove his conviction of a second chance is real and true. UNTIL, until… around the end of dec, that day when i was in a cosplay convention, i found out that cosplayer dude actually two-timed the whole time. those months of not talking were actually him being with another cosplayer, which i met on that convention and she never knew either.

fast forward. i cut cosplayer dude out of my life and went hiatus on cosplaying for a while. in january, i did nothing but drown in academics until got horribly sick on the day of finals of my first semester. i told R about what happened, and he threw all his opinions abt cosplayer dude out in the open all at once, how he never liked him the moment i said cosplayer dude said the three words (ily) the day after he confessed (he said it was too early and awkward to be saying that, which i agreed). how his hot and cold behavior were already a sign of a red flag, which i ignored- and which R told me to be more careful from now on.

R’s dating history werent unknown to me, ever since we were friends, hes very open abt his experiences in general, which he stated that it shaped him and his priorities into a solid state and his goals became clearer to him. i wondered, how is this guy keep checking each boxes and yet i never saw him as some romantic figure at all? ah, maybe its bc i was so hung up on the cosplayer dude, maybe its bc i got attached to dickheads for too long to notice R or J.

after finals, we still had one hurdle to finish off before sem break, and that was a dance contest as we fight against every strands. each and every one of them. mind you i was not a good state. my temp was going nuts. i was dehydrated. and just overall beaten up. i could’ve called quits and just rest at home, but i didnt want to.

as we were waiting for our turn, i told R who’s getting ready beside me, i wanted some water. his water bottle’s empty, and then he didnt hesitate to walk towards the stairs and urged me to join with him. what for???? he said he’ll buy me water, which is embarrassing bc i had money and yet he didnt want it >:(

that time i thought, he really cares for his friends. he doesn’t have that much, and i think i was feeling grateful that i met him and we became good friends.

february, still platonic !! i think that was the month where we didnt get to talk much, but uhh i gave him chocolates, if i remember correctly?? along with J and my bff and other friends. it was that time that im relapsing real hard ☠ i tried to divert myself as much as i can, but there was a short moment of me admitting it to R, J and bff late at night. i just couldnt handle it.

march, i was a bit okay. i didnt think abt cosplayer dude all that much anymore. me and R got closer, and one time we went back around the topic of our classmates speculating abt us. he said its actually an advantage, here, and i quote “if word spreads outside of our class, then people wont have to bother us anymore. cause they’ll think we do have a thing.” —> THESE ARE HIS WORDS!!

the reason for this being an advantage is bc, R is prioritizing himself. so am i. there, i said it. after his breakup w his ex fling last year in oct, hes been dead set on improving himself. he never talked or flirted with anyone ever since. and he went as far as to remove some of his friends on social media with which he no longer associates/vibe with. he rejected and distanced himself with girls who had (and still has) a crush on him. overall hes doing good in being committed to his goals, and with the speculation/ developing rumors. people dont bother him as much anymore.

i got to know him even better after this conversation. i said smth like “why is it an advantage for me too?”

and hes like “arent u healing? besides, things are getting better now that people arent pestering you, right? u seem, and i know u do, feel happy with how things are right now. this is a win-win situation for us.”

and i was like, well, seems he know me as much i know him too.

APRIL…TO MAY…

HOO okay uh. the moment you’ve all been waiting for. this is the time im questioning everything. i know im capable of liking someone right now. but i dont think i need a relationship. this, im certain. and im definitely happy with how things are, as R have previously stated.

WHAT IM NOT TOTALLY OKAY IS WHY….R????? WHY AM I SUDDENLY HAVING THOUGHTS OF HIM BEING CUTE…. WHY AM I IMAGINING HIS STUPID LAUGH, HIS HABIT OF SITTING NEXT TO ME OR RANDOMLY TALKING TO ME OR SENDING ME STUPID TIKTOKS OR IG REELS

WHY DO I FEEL HAPPY WHEN HE ACTUALLY WATCHES THE RECOS I GIVE HIM?????? ESPECIALLY WHEN HE SAID LOVES MASH AND ENJOYED WATCHING MASHLE????????

WHY NOW????????????

DUDE IMKDHFIUHSDE (im going to make a part 2… im not done yapping but im getting really sleepy rn so i’ll continue this tmrw, probably)

[chansaw]

ok as promised here’s more followup on jackie and misty’s roles in my yellowjackets animorphs au (part 1, part 2) for the like three people who care.

misty FUCKING quigley:

when she found that weird glowing cube half-buried in debris, misty thought it’d probably net her a hundred bucks on ebay and a cool story to brag about to ben and the soccer team. but she could tell there was more behind the team’s faces than the usual frowns that signaled “oh, great, another misty monologue” when she showed it off. and then, natalie scatorccio of all people started watching her - sitting next to her in every class, tracking her movement from across cafeteria, pushing away the kids in purple t-shirts emblazoned with “the sharing” who bug her in the hallway. “it’s very nice of you, but i don’t need a bodyguard,” misty tells her on a break during practice a few days later, as she hands the girls ice cold water bottles. nat just shakes her head and smiles, then walks away without another word.

then, it happens. out of nowhere, while she’s walking back to the car, the kids from the sharing attack her, like physically attack her. a guy she’s pretty sure is on the football team pins her to the concrete while a goth girl from her math class grabs her backpack and starts rooting through it. “i’ll give you a week’s lunch money,” she rasps, “a month! just tell me what you’re looking for!” the goth looks like she’s about to respond when the puma appears from out of nowhere. as if this day couldn’t get any weirder - cougars aren’t even native to new jersey, she thinks to herself as she watches the big cat fend off her attackers. once it’s taken care of the last of them, it turns on misty. there’s a strange glint in its eyes; she braces herself for the end. and then: <what was that you said about not needing a bodyguard?>

like david, misty is made an animorph mostly out of necessity. she’s seen too much, knows too much. and like david, she’s kind of a loose cannon, unpredictable on and off the battlefield. but unlike david, she’s fiercely loyal to her team and willing to do whatever it takes to keep them safe. and she knows things: exactly how much venom to use while in a snake morph to paralyze someone rather than kill them (<though maybe they’ll wish i had killed them!> misty chirps after demonstrating), which birds wouldn’t look too suspicious traveling in a flock together, and how much force a predator needs to bite with to tear someone’s arm clean off. and even though morphing back to human undoes any injuries the team takes while morphed, misty’s field medic knowledge has saved them from a messy death on several occasions. unlike david, she never betrays her team.

jackie taylor, part 2:

“you know, it could be worse,” shauna tells her one time, a day or two after she first gets trapped. she’s setting up the cage (“enclosure,” shauna calls it, but she knows what it is. it’s a cage). jackie’s not sure shauna’s right about that. she misses her body. she misses having opposable thumbs. she misses sleeping in an actual bed, and most of all she misses eating actual food instead of dry-ass hay and grass and shit. that last part’s not a hyperbole, by the way. rabbits and hares eat their own shit. she wishes they’d put that on the sign at the zoo, because she learned about that lovely habit the hard way.

but what probably hurts the most is the fact that she feels so fucking useless. like, aside from the occasional recon or espionage mission, she can’t exactly do much in a fight. she may be hare-brained, but she's not stupid; she sees the way the team looks at her hungrily when they’re in their predator battle-morphs. during one mission, when they head into the woods to investigate the rumors of a rogue faction of taxxons, shauna loses control of her morph, lets the wolf's mind overtake her own. if tai hadn't intervened, jackie knows she would've been a goner. tai tries to reassure her that she’s still an essential part of the team, that she's still good for something. but jackie knows all she's ever been good at, even before she became like this, is running and hiding.

she lives that way for a little over a miserable year. shauna does her best to make it better. she gives her fresh fruit and keeps the tv on for her while she’s away. then, the ellimist (aka space gamer jesus; he’s nearly omnipotent and on the animorphs' side, but can't directly interfere to help them) gives jackie an offer. in exchange for her help in establishing a colony of free hork-bajir, he’ll give her back the power to morph - with the catch that the hare is now her base form. so this leaves her in something of a catch-22; she can go back to being human but trap herself as a nothlit again and deprive herself of the only weapon she has against the yeerks, or keep living as a hare in order to keep morphing, to stay useful. so she compromises; she lives as a human for 2 hours at a time. she miraculously returns from the dead. she goes back to school, and picks up soccer again. every 2 hours on the dot her digital watch beeps and she excuses herself to demorph and remorph, and she sleeps as a hare just to be safe. its a precarious line to tread, but it works. and hey, she can enjoy actual human food again. and she can fight for real now. she picks a grizzly bear as her battle morph, and maybe she fights with a little less panache and grace than her friends, but still. she’s helping. and once this is all over, she’ll finally be able to stop hiding once and for all.

[amaranthinecanicular]

I prayed my mind be good to me

Karl takes a bracing breath. “Don’t freak out, but you’re not…in the world anymore. You’re just to the left of it. In between it and…something else.”

The road seems to narrow. The trees press closer.

“Consider it the world’s worst, never-ending roadtrip. A waystation filled with nothing but waystations. And as soon as you stop to rest, that’s when it gets you, so you can’t stop. You can't rest. You can’t ever stop running.”

And Quackity hears the voice of a dead man. Are you just going to run again?

(On a roadtrip to see his brother for the first time in four years, Quackity gets lost in the space between spaces. Luckily he’s got his boyfriend riding shotgun, and also this cute gas station attendant, who knows much less and much more than he should.)

[Written for @pinchhitsfromthevoid, for a prompt by @coleopterad! I so enjoyed writing this, and though I regret that it wrote itself out of the sweet comedy I had intended and into a loving, fast-paced roadtdrip horror, I hope it meets the prompt in terms of relationship dynamics and ending. I do love me a healthy, deeply in love couple fighting the world and it’s very literal horrors. Enjoy!]

[Alternatively read on ao3.]

:

chapter one.

:

Quackity wants to run again.

Unfortunately they’re low on gas, so he can’t. Quackity would say he’s something of a roadtrip aficionado: his whole adolescence was founded on them, fifteen years old with no plan but entertaining Tubbo in the passenger seat. And as something of a roadtrip aficionado, he has the authority to say that nothing is creepier than an abandoned gas station at 3 AM in the middle of nowhere. Not that he’d ever get himself in that situation. Couldn’t be him.

Obviously this is Sapnap’s fault. If it’s not then Quackity is going to spin it that way. He should be knocked out in the passenger seat, snoozing right through any shady ass o'clock pitstops, but that’s not an option when Sapnap has this misguided habit of driving straight through Quackity’s shifts to let him sleep. Chivalrous motherfucker. Which leaves Quackity no choice but to reverse uno him and drive through his shifts while he’s sprawled out across the backseat, snoring like a busted muffler. The uneven rocking as they pull into the station does nothing to wake him.

It really is in the middle of nowhere. There isn’t a single light on the road, no moon, no stars. Just some podunk regional gas station he’s never heard of tucked away in the relentless wall of trees, on a backroad off the highway.

Quackity intends to get his gas and peel out of there, but the station has a matchbox convenience store attached, and he needs caffeine in his bloodstream more than he needs air. He parks in one of the three spaces and considers dragging Sapnap inside with him. It would be hilariously easy to reach back, open the door and watch him tumble out. Sapnap’s cheek is mashed against the faux leather and his hair is static-clinging to the glass. He’s drooling into the cup holder. Quackity loves him so much he could be sick with it.

He creeps out as quietly as he can, like a sucker, and as soon as the door shuts the oppressive silence of the night closes around him. The goosebumps he’d managed to ward off with Sapnap’s snoring sweep up the back of his neck. He doesn’t like the trees here. Is that a weird thing to think? The elbow joints of their branches are too sharp and too many.

The convenience store is tiny and buzzing with white-noise fluorescents, casting the same greenish-yellow glow that all gas stations have at 3 AM. The cashier isn’t behind the counter, but he can hear shuffling in a back room.

The coffee machine doesn’t work. Figures. He drifts to the humming refrigerators instead, grabbing a six-pack of Monster and turning to the chip aisle. Barbecue for him, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos for Sapnap. He pauses. Tubbo likes salt and vinegar. He grabs one, thinks about it, then grabs another and brings it all to the counter.

The cashier is still moving around in the backroom. Quackity waits a minute, then raps his knuckles on the fake wood. “Hey, man, a little help out here?”

The shuffling stops.

A minute passes in silence. No one emerges. Quackity starts to wish he woke Sapnap up after all.

He knocks on the counter again. “Yo?”

The lights go out.

It can’t take more than one full second, but when they come back on, Quackity’s lungs are too tight to draw full breath.

Yeah, no. Fuck this.

He digs out a twenty from his pocket, drops it onto the counter, and blows right out of there without looking back. Fresh air doesn’t bring the relief it should. The too-many-jointed trees are pressing in tight and close. Maybe he’ll only fill up the tank halfway, just enough to get them out of here. Hell, maybe they don’t need gas at all, and the fumes they’re running on will last until the next, less haunted gas station. He books it to the little lot, eager to get back to Sapnap and his comforting lawn mower snores.

There’s a man by the car, watching Sapnap sleep.

“Hey!” Quackity barks, fear alchemizing to fury in his throat. The man jumps a full foot in the air. He catches sight of Quackity, and a smile lights up his face.

“Hi,” he says, in a voice so warm it takes the legs of Quackity’s anger right out from under him. He bulls his way between the guy and the car anyway, ripping his mouth into a snarl. He wishes fiercely that he weren’t cradling four bags of chips and a box of energy drinks to his chest. That definitely undercuts some of the viciousness he’s going for, but the scar should make up for it.

The guy pedals back, hands thrown up. “Hi, hey, howdy. Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just checking that he was, y’know, breathing.”

Like that’s a completely non-batshit thing to say. “That’s creepy as fuck, man.”

His smile drops. “Word? Sorry. In my defense, no one comes here. When I saw the car and the body in the backseat I for real thought your boy ODed or something.”

“Well, he didn’t.” A snore vibrates through the door to attest to this. Fucker can sleep through anything.

“I can hear that,” the guy says. He shoves his hands in his pockets, flaps his lips. “So you want some gas?”

Quackity eyes him. “You’re the attendant?”

“Ayup. Karl, at your service. Why, do I not look like one?”

Quackity’s not sure what he looks like. Out of place, mostly. He’s young, tall and willowy, with cuffed jeans and an eyesore of a windbreaker. Also he’s like, probably the single most lovely person Quackity’s ever seen, and that’s with his hot as hell boyfriend passed out right behind him. All honey brown curls and delicate bone structure and big brown eyes bordering on gold. What is Quackity supposed to do with that? The uncanniness of meeting someone so ethereally pretty in this situation is almost creepier than meeting an axe murderer, which would at least be on brand.

Instead of answering, he asks, “Where were you when I pulled in?”

“Bathroom.” He forks his thumb, and indeed, on the other side of the lot is a rickety old outhouse. It stands alone against the treeline, nearly consumed.

“Looks haunted as shit.”

Karl giggles—honest to god giggles, which wasn’t a sound Quackity thought people really made. It’s entirely disarming, and to Quackity’s horror, he starts to relax. As peculiar and misplaced as he is, it’s impossible to clock this guy as a threat. Quackity may be small but he’s scrappy, and Sapnap is built like a brick shithouse. By comparison, Karl looks about as threatening as a wet noodle. A painfully beautiful wet noodle in an awful windbreaker, but a wet noodle all the same.

“It really is,” Karl says. “Zero out of ten, would not recommend. But the shop bathroom is worse, if you can believe that.”

“I do, actually.” With the adrenaline slowly leaking from his pores, Quackity suddenly feels dumb for getting so freaked out by the convenience store, and the trees, and the general rancid vibes of this place. It’s just a creepy 3 AM gas station, just like every other creepy 3 AM gas station. “I think you’ve got an animal in there, by the way.”

For just a second, Karl’s easy expression flickers. It bounces back gamely, with a grin and a long-suffering sigh. “Of course there is. I literally cannot tell you how much this place sucks, dude. Come on, let me fill you up so you can get the heck out of here.”

“That’s what she said,” Quackity says, purely on instinct, and immediately wants to die. But Karl only giggles again.

He pulls the car up to the nearest pump, Karl jogging after him. Quackity leans his head out the window to watch as Karl inserts the nozzle and the numbers rack up.

“I hope you didn’t pay for those,” Karl says. “The snacks, I mean.”

Quackity snorts. “Why?”

“Uh, because this place is the worst? I swear I already said that.”

“You did. You’re never gonna get repeat customers like this.”

“Good. You should get as far away as possible. Better yet, take me with you.”

He’s still smiling, but there’s a note of earnestness that pulls at Quackity’s sympathy. “Why don’t you quit?”

Karl shrugs. “Would if I could, but I can’t, so I won’t. Y’know?”

Quackity does know. He glances away. “Well, I did pay for the snacks, like an idiot.”

“Yeah, that was pretty dumb,” Karl says, grinning at Quackity’s scowl. “Gas is on the house, then. Call it pretty privilege.”

And he winks. It is the cheesiest wink Quackity has ever seen in his life.

“Dude,” he guffaws, “my boyfriend is literally right there.”

“Hey, he’s invited too. Handsome fella, even if he snores like a jet engine.”

“Dude.”

Karl folds his arms over the roof and leans his cheek on them. He looks soft and sweet. Quackity wishes Sapnap were awake to see him, he’d be in love already. “Sorry. I flirt when I’m nervous.”

Bizarrely enough, Quackity totally gets that. He’s exactly the same way, or he was, until it was trained out of him. “I make you nervous?”

“You in a pretty kind of way. This whole place in a freaky Twilight Zone kind of way.”

As if on cue, the lights in the convenience store go out. Quackity expects them to turn on immediately like last time. One long beat, then two. The lights flicker back on, and Quackity’s tongue is sour, palms sweaty.

His throat clicks when he peels it open. “Does that happen a lot?”

Karl doesn’t answer. His entire demeanor has changed: muscles tense, throat flexing, face alert. He scans the trees with golden eyes. Were his eyes always golden?

Are the trees closer?

“Hey,” Quackity says, “Where’d the outhouse go?”

Karl turns back to him. “Okay, I’ve really loved playing normal with you, but it turns out we have like, no time. You’re lost, right?”

“What?” Quackity stares at him. “No, I’m not.”

“No, you are. You really really are. Do you remember how you got here?”

Karl is back to freaking him out. Worse: Quackity can’t answer the question. Karl nods like he expected that.

“But you remember where you’re going. That’s the most important thing, that’ll get you out. Some ground rules: don’t go in the woods. Don’t split up. Don’t lose your car, because if you do, you’re boned. Avoid reflections, and windows. Your car windows are probably fine, but—you get what I mean.”

“I really fucking don’t,” Quackity says. The hair has risen on his arms, his neck. Something falls over in the convenience store but he doesn’t see what. Karl pushes on.

“You can take the highway or the backroads, but they both have their dangers. You cannot stop on the highway, and you can’t look away from the road, not for anything. Okay? You can pull over on the backroads if you need to, but make it fast. Don’t stop at any of the motels or bed-and-breakfasts. If you don’t believe me, just read the signs. Your brain will try not to, but if you focus, you’ll see. Avoid large bodies of water. What else, what else—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t hit the deer.”

“I wasn’t planning on hitting any deer, you freak—”

The meter dings. All the lights in the station go out.

They come back on after a moment of palpable darkness. The parking lot is gone. The trees are right on top of them.

“What the hell,” Quackity whispers. “What the fuck.”

“Shit,” Karl agrees. “Turn the car on, you’ve gotta go.”

Quackity does, and is almost surprised that the engine turns over. Karl scrambles to pull out the nozzle and shut the gas tank. He pats the roof twice, but Quackity doesn’t drive off. He doesn’t do anything. His heart is pounding in his throat as he stares at Karl, unsure what he’s waiting for. Karl’s urgency softens, just a little.

“I’ll be okay, baby. Go on. All you have to do is drive straight on ‘til morning. Like Peter Pan, right?” He smiles, like they’re sharing a secret. “Tubbo wants to see you, Quackity. He does. Keep that in mind and keep driving, and you’ll be alright. You’ll see me soon, I promise.”

Tubbo.

Quackity’s first impulse, as always, is to run. He follows it.

The car screeches out of the gas station, front wheels bouncing hard on the road just as the lights go out behind him. Sapnap knocks his head on the window and snorts himself awake.

“Ow, the fuck,” he slurs.

Quackity wants to yell at him, or maybe just scream, but his lungs are tight like closed fists in his chest. He reaches back and whacks Sapnap’s leg a couple times instead.

“Ow, the fuck! What’d I do?”

In the rearview, at a distance, the lights of the gas station come back on. The trees stand solitary and watchful. Karl is gone. The big neon sign is last, reversed in the mirror and flickering to life: THE INBETWEEN.

:

Quackity really can’t remember how he got here.

He remembers texting Tubbo to finalize their plans because he was too chickenshit to call. He remembers joking with Sapnap about roadtrip playlists and Cracker Barrel breaks and giant-ball-of-string detours. He remembers Sapnap tossing and catching the keys as he slid into the driver’s seat, and he remembers standing on the passenger side, unable to open the door for reasons he couldn’t fathom, until Sapnap had to climb back out and pull him into his arms. He tucked his beard-scratchy chin to the crown of Quackity’s head and rocked them back and forth for one silent, patient minute until Quackity could shudder out a breath and force himself into the car.

The first leg of the trip was sweet and fun for how utterly average it was. They sang along to painfully classic road music. Sapnap rolled down all the windows to belt the incorrect lyrics to Born to Run, Life is a Highway, and Sweet Home Alabama while Quackity booed beside him. They were still far enough west that the air whistling through the car was more refreshing than cold. They switched playlists and talked about their various roadtrip rituals. Sapnap playing those cheesy highway games as a kid with his dads and his brother, I Spy and Punch Buggy and the License Plate Game. Quackity and Tubbo, fifteen and eleven, workshopping and refining what they would come to call the Sacred Laws of Road-Tripping. Pull over for every tourist trap you see, always buy snacks at gas stations and postcards at rest stops. If shotgun shouts left turn, you turn left, no questions asked. It was a good way to get lost, which was usually the point. Tubbo bouncing in the passenger seat, distractible, excitable, small for his age. The green shirt he liked that Quackity grew out of, flopping over his wrists and always buttoned up wrong.

He and Sapnap stopped for gas, sharing a pack of jerky and a ring pop that they took turns slurping obscenely in each other’s faces. At lunchtime they pulled into a glittery highway rest stop with mediocre food and wolfed down McDonalds and Cinnabon, and shortly after getting back on the highway they got off again to visit a tiny museum dedicated to a mid-century actress neither of them had ever heard of. It came with a library-turned-theater, playing the same twenty minute biography on loop, where they whispered and made out like teenagers.

Quackity drove until dinner, and when they switched back they kept talking, conversation turning vulnerable and secret the way it does in the small, sleepless hours of the night. He never talked to me like this, Quackity said at one point. I think he tried once, but that was after the scar, and I just left the room. Is that fucked up of me?

Sapnap said no, and he took Quackity’s hand over the console, and drove one-handed for the rest of the night.

Slowly, almost too slow to feel, the landscape changed. The warm weather turned frigid, and Quackity’s beloved red horizons folded in on him, cold and northeast mountainous. Trees rose up on either side, dense and dark and evergreen.

The next morning they had breakfast at a diner, brushing their teeth in the bathroom and nodding off over their pancakes until a waitress had to shake them awake. Embarrassed but refreshed, they hit the road again.

Gas, then lunch. Another recently-renovated rest stop, with workers who were not paid enough to care. A brief stalemate when Sapnap wanted to eat outside at one of the picnic tables while Quackity argued that they should not freeze their balls off. He was surprised, as always, when Sapnap relented, suggesting instead that they take a walk along the tiny hiking trail after their meal. Quackity agreed, and Sapnap beamed at him like he’d delivered him the sun in his hands. Compromise. Who knew.

The trail really was tiny. More of a beaten footpath, looping once with zero incline and in view of the highway the whole time. Sapnap preened in the sunlight like a photosynthesizing plant. They held hands while they strolled, and when Sapnap noticed Quackity’s criminally poor circulation, he stuffed their interlocked fingers into one of his coat pockets. It was so cliche and dumb that Quackity had no choice but to kiss him about it.

They looped again and Quackity decided he was cold enough to shimmy back into Sapnap’s chest. Sapnap opened and closed his jacket around him, while Quackity zipped it up. “Like a turducken,” he said.

“You’re the duck, I’m the turkey,” Sapnap said. “We need a third. Who’s the chicken?”

They waddled through another loop. Quackity took in the sparse trees, the meager trail. “Tubbo and I did something like this on one of our roadtrips.”

“I mean, I kinda hope not. That would be weird.”

“What? Not the turducken thing, dumbass, the hiking trail. It was a way shittier rest stop and a way better trail, like in an actual park. You could wander off and get lost and everything. We made a fort out of sticks, it was awesome.”

“Sounds fun.” Sapnap pressed a kiss into his beanie. “Wanna make a fort?”

“Nah. We should get back on the road. Branches here are too small, anyway.”

Quackity climbed into the driver’s seat. By that point Sapnap was talking through jaw-cracking yawns; he’d taken extra shifts at the repair shop to make up for the days off he was taking for this trip and had barely napped at all the first day. Dinner at Cracker Barrel, one of the few in the state, where they bought each other knick-knacks from the giftshop. Cute duck salt shakers for Quackity. An ugly gnome and mushroom snowglobe for Sapnap. He bemoaned that it reminded him of George, while Quackity batted his lashes and pretended that wasn’t exactly what he was going for. As a last minute impulse-buy he grabbed a spoon rest shaped like a bee for Tubbo. He’ll love it, Sapnap assured him, but Quackity couldn’t help but feel stupid. He doesn’t even know if Tubbo likes bees anymore. What’s he going to use it for, his collection of novelty spoons that he has in real life? He’s seventeen, not a grandma.

They were supposed to switch drivers again, but instead Quackity ushered Sapnap into the backseat, promising to wake him for his next shift. He conked out before the opening of Quackity’s true crime podcast finished. Quackity drove until midnight, and then kept driving because he knew Sapnap would drive through the night if Quackity let him.

And then he was pulling into an abandoned gas station at 3 AM. He doesn’t remember which exit. He doesn’t remember taking an exit at all. He doesn’t even remember what state they’re in.

“You were supposed to wake me,” Sapnap grumbles for the third time.

It’s been twenty minutes since the gas station and they haven’t seen anyone else on the road. Quackity still hasn’t found the onramp back to the highway. And that’s—that’s fine, whatever, except he keeps expecting to roll into civilization and they just—don’t. It’s just trees and trees and more fucking trees. No lights but their headlights, bleaching the branches into ghoulish, groping things. It feels like they’re pressing in tighter and closer but that might just be paranoia.

“Where are the askers, Sapnap? Where are they? I don’t see any on this spooky ass road.”

The adrenaline is finally starting to fade, leaving him in that horrible midway point between painfully alert and more painfully exhausted. His spine aches. His knuckles on the wheel ache. His eyes ache and his teeth ache. Sapnap touches his shoulder and he jumps so hard it jerks every wire-taut muscle in his body.

Sapnap huffs. “You keep saying I’m going to drive through your shift, but I only did that once, and I said I was sorry. You’re literally doing that right now.”

The argument is too logical to refute, so Quackity doesn’t. “GPS?”

Sapnap obediently checks his phone. “Still nothing. We’re way out in the boondocks.”

Quackity suppresses the urge to smack the wheel. He’s not sure why he doesn’t want to let Sapnap drive, which just makes the aimless frustration needle deeper. It might be that he doesn’t want to pull over after Karl’s warnings, or that Sapnap wasn’t awake to hear the warnings himself. Except Quackity has already told himself and Sapnap that it was all just some fucked up prank his sleep-deprived brain was too willing to indulge. Karl was real, because Quackity wouldn’t hallucinate a wholeass person, no matter how strange or fine. The flickering lights were real, probably. The encroaching trees were not.

Quackity hasn’t told him about how Karl knew his name. He hasn’t told him about how he knew Tubbo’s.

In a turn of good luck, finally, the trees give way. No lights still, or houses, or moon or stars, but marshland unspools on either side. It’s cold and damp in that northern way that seeps into the clothes and beneath the skin, but it’s not the woods, so he’ll take it.

“Tell me more about how hot this guy was,” Sapnap says, a peace offering.

“Oh my god, total smokeshow. Ten out of ten, easy. But not in a model way? Like, his ass was flat as a pancake and his fashion sense was worse than yours—”

“Hey—”

“But he was still a ten. It made the whole thing so much creepier.” He shakes his head. “He was totally your type.”

“You’re my type,” says Sapnap, with complete sincerity.

“Cute.” A yawn cracks through his smirk. He glances back at Sapnap in the mirror. He’s frowning, brow knit with concern, and Quackity’s shoulders pull taut. “I’m not crazy.”

“Never said you were, darlin’.” Sapnap’s hand on his shoulder again, kneading and warm. “The whole thing sounds like you fell asleep at the wheel, but if you say evil trees were trying to eat you and the hot gas station attendant, I believe you. Weirder shit has happened.”

“Has it?”

He feels Sapnap’s shrug. “Probably. My dad’s in some cult that thinks an egg is going to hatch and take over the world or something, what the fuck do I know. You saw something weird in a gas station in the middle of nowhere, just like everyone who’s ever stopped at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. You’re a tired, stubborn dumbass, but you’re not crazy.”

Tension unspools from Quackity’s body, painfully slow. Sapnap massages down his bicep and up to his neck. Digs firmly into the vertebrae and the hinge of his jaw. A sigh stutters out of him. He eases on the gas, just a little.

“Now is not the time or place, you degenerate,” he mutters.

“Mind out of the gutter, Big Q.” Sapnap chuckles. “I’m not trying to seduce you, I’m trying to remind you that you need to sleep.”

“Risky move while I’m driving.”

“I live life on the edge, sue me.”

Quackity indulges the rough thumb smoothing circles into the top knob of his spine for a moment more, and then he reaches up. Knits their fingers together, brushes a kiss to the side of Sapnap’s thumb. Lets go, deliberate.

Sapnap sighs, pulling his hand back. “We don’t have to switch if you don’t want to. But you need to sleep. This isn’t healthy, Q.”

“Yeah? And how do you suggest I sleep without switching?”

“We could stop there, smartass.”

Sapnap’s arm in his peripheral, pointing, but Quackity sees it. A neon dot cresting the horizon. He slows the car to a crawl.

Karl said not to stop at motels. Karl was full of shit, because he has to be full of shit.

Karl knew Quackity’s name. He knew Tubbo’s name.

“We don’t have to,” Sapnap says, reading his silence. “But if we don’t, we have to switch.”

“And if I say no?”

“I’m not gonna force you, love,” Sapnap says. Immediately guilt pierces through the bubbling dread, because yeah. That’s exactly what Quackity was testing, wasn’t he?

“Buuut,” Sapnap continues. “I will start singing 99 Bottles to keep you awake.”

Quackity groans. “Fuck you, you won’t. I’m calling your bluff, you won’t get past 90.”

“Bet. 99 bottles of pop on the wall—”

“Pop? Are you five?”

“It was Bad’s favorite and he doesn’t swear. 99 bottles of pop, you take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of pop on the wall.”

“Just say beer, you son of a bitch.”

“98 bottles of pop on the wall, 98 bottles of pop, you take one down, pass it around, 97 bottles of pop on the wall. You fucked with the wrong man, Q, I grew up on this song and I am immune. 97 bottles of pop—”

“Fine, fine! You win, you sociopath.” But he’s laughing, and in the mirror Sapnap’s smile is flushed and pleased.

The big sign reads MOTEL MIZU in some derivative Mesoamerican stylization. The main building is designed to look like a flat-topped, stair-faced pyramid, elevated on stilts. It’s exactly the kind of kitschy, gimmicky hole in the wall you stumble upon in the middle of nowhere.

“Does this feel kind of racist to you?” Sapnap asks, peering out the window.

“Maybe. Exploitative, for damn sure.” Nevertheless he has to admit it looks inviting.

“They could give us directions, tell us where we are,” Sapnap says. “Or at least let me use the bathroom. I’ve had to piss since I woke up.”

The main building’s lights are on. Some of the rooms are lit up too, but others are vacant, waiting for guests.

Vacant.

Quackity blinks. Looks back up at the sign, and the smaller lettering beneath it. He assumed it just advertised the vacancy. Quackity forces his eyes to focus. It’s harder than it should be. Sapnap opens the door.

In glowing cursive letters:

Come on in! Nobody leaves here!

Quackity’s stomach opens up.

“Oh no. No no no, fuck this.” He turns in his seat. “Sapnap! Get in the car!”

Sapnap jerks to a stop, halfway out the door. “What?”

“Get in the fucking car, I am not playing, get in now.”

Sapnap gets in, eyes wide. Quackity throws the car back in drive.

“Fuck this fuck this fuck this.”

He guns it. Sapnap tosses violently in the back seat. “Ow! Jesus christ, Quackity, what the dick!”

“Put your seatbelt on.”

“We were supposed to switch—”

“Put your fucking seatbelt on.”

Sapnap puts his seatbelt on. Quackity doesn’t let up on the gas until the motel is well behind them. The marshland dries up. The trees close in once more.

:

[storiesofsvu]

Alright, happy Thursday hoes, lets get to this.

Mothership first

Okay… interesting open…

Omg…how many times are they gonna use the trope of “don’t touch that!” “who the hell are you?” surprise it’s the new laywer…

Not surprised its another old white dude, but at least he’s not as old as mccoy

Okay seriously…. If they get rid of Samantha I will not be watching this show anymore..

I wonder if they’re going to bring this staff change up on svu too considering this guy is also now carisi’s boss… but the writers seem to have forgotten that these shows all exist together until they want to do a crossover.

If this was svu the ada would be storming into the squad room yelling at the detectives for making a mistake that’s gonna cost them their case. Why don’t we get to see that on mothership? I want more crossing over between departments, cops never show up in the gallery either, just to testify if they’re needed.

Oooo yesss that maroon suit. I see you ma’am!

Man they’re just right fucked with this case aren’t they?

This defence attorney is super crusty

How come these videos are coming up NOW and not before things went to trial??

This judges office is barba’s office. They really only have so many sets, hey? (also the continuity of that office on this show/universe drives me fucking insane).

My subtitles keep cutting in and out and that is also driving me insane

Toronto time.

Will I pay attention? Likely no

JESUS FUCK talk about a cold fucking opening wow.

Big surprise I stopped paying attention halfway through the ep. Like, it’s fully muted right now and I’m working on writing LOL

SVU time

BRUH is this maria stuff ive been seeing all over twitter legit?! I thought people were fucking clowning LOL

Olivia in uniform just fucking makes me so fucking weak every single time

Clearly the other captain hasn’t been in the field a lot if that was her immediate reaction to that crime scene

Okay… hear me out… olivia literally saved maria’s life and stayed on the phone with her ALL night. We all know she has a habit of taking in strays… there’s no doubt maria became a cop because of liv… maria would have reached out TO HER about her graduation, not the other way around…

Velasco getting actual screen time finally. I do have to say, im back on my Velasco bullshit…

LOL. I know it was unintentional but the harshness of velasco’s knock on the door killed me.

4 hours of law and order is too much. Im getting bored and this is the show I actually like. I think imma start skipping Toronto cause mothership does hit some days

If this girl has a good enough lawyer she could easily get off on an insanity type plea… tbh this episode would’ve been way better on criminal minds. That would’ve been bad ass.

This episode is almost over and we got absolutely NO closure on the maria thing AND we didn’t get to go to court. Im OVER this fucking show man lol

Liv being back in her bac nail polish era is bomb though

Fin doesn’t strike me as a scotch guy… this is weird..

Okay… liv is really not okay. Like this girl needs support, she needs proper and regular therapy, she needs a break from work. Go home and spend time with your son instead of drinking cheap wine alone in a bar? Also while we’re talking about drinking alone after work being all sad, can we touch on the fact that her mother was an alcoholic, and that was what *killed* her… this is incredibly worrisome and I doubt we’re ever going to touch on it/get it fleshed out like we should…

Okay we at least got some maria closure. Thank you.

OC time!

Jet *attempting* to control stabler, woof. At least someone’s trying loooll

This bitch is so dead

Part of me feels like its bullshit that se wouldn’t know any of this about her own brother, but also I never talk to my family so…. LOL.

Fuck he’s creepy as shit

There is NO WAY THAT TINY MAN IS THE SAME SIZE AS ELLIOT

The fact that it took THIS long for someone higher up to question his anger/trauma/etc affecting his job is wild.

THE BARTENDER IN ME IS FUCKING DYING. I had a PHYSICAL reaction to that conversation.

“you’ve never had a long island ice tea?!” “I don’t like ice tea it’s too bleh” guy promptly orders two to prove that theyre good? THERE IS NO ICED TEA IN LONG ISLANDS

Cragen’s really just gonna be in the last second of this episode isn’t he?

Everyone: proper ear pieces

Jet: nah. Air pod.

I really thought that stabler was gonna be missing for a like, a good chunk of time with no one knowing.

OHHHH right! The foil he found in the bathroom garbage and immediately licked… right… I forgot about that. Now the question is who it belongs to…..

[oddballwriter]

MH Guys w/ a Vampire S/O

Warnings: Mentions of vampires, drinking blood, and biting. Brian’s part is a bit spicy, watch for the bumper.

Author’s Snip: Like I said in the EMH version of this. I have vampire brain rot on this fine after noon and I also don’t see much posts if at all where the reader is a vampire so I’m gonna be one of the chosen few.

Notes: I also mentioned in the EMH version that you still have humanity unlike the post I made a while back where it was just HABIT.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Tim

Okay I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that since you still have your humanity, you hide that fact that you need to feed on blood for basically everyone. So he wasn’t in the know

Neither is anyone else for both this and the EMH post

So when he finds out he flips the fuck out with good reason

He’s worried that you have a thing similar to Operator disease, and he’s already in the 9 rings of hell and then some with his whole deal 

He probably genuinely runs and tries to stay clear of you cause he’s so scared shitless 

However, if you can get it through to him that it’s not really anything like the tales and movies then he’ll calm down

Once he calms down then he probably sort of feels leveled with you in a way because you have “a thing” and he’s got “a thing”

You guys can have “a thing” together he supposes

He then asks questions about how it happened and what it’s like, to which he tells you about his “condition” 

It’s kind of sweet because you guys are opening up to each other about things that you two would never tell anyone else

It still freaks him out when you just straight up drink blood

I’m sure anyone would need time to get desensitized to their partner just drinking from blood bags like its a capri sun

He gets a bit worried when you’re near his neck though

But at some point he realizes that you have no plan of getting a bite 

I have a feeling that he’s so used to paranormal shit being a part of his life that he just gets used to some of the weird stuff about you and maybe even forget that your a vampire in the first place

“Tim, you have to invite me. I can’t-” “Oh. That’s right. Sorry.”

“Do you maybe wanna take a walk around town?” “The sun’s still out. maybe in an hour?” 

He honestly doesn’t wanna know where you get your supply of blood... just... don’t make a mess

Brian

He doesn’t really get freaked out

Maybe he gets a little cautious of you once he starts thinking and believing that you might be a blood sucking creature of the night

Btw, in these posts, you not the undead kind of vampire

Once he feels like he has enough proof that he can pull up, he just kind of corners you and asks you

If you try and deny it then he’ll just be like “No. You are. You do all these things that a vampire would.”

Once you admit it he asks what exactly you do

At some point he gathers that you aren’t a threat at all and that this is just what you are

He doesn’t really ask much questions like how you became a vampire just in case it’s a touchy subject

He more so asks what is true and what isn’t

It sounds like he doesn’t care but he kind of does. He’s just cool with it

He secretly its not really much of a secret thinks its hot

▄▀▄▀ This is gonna be a bit spicy MINORS GET OUT ▀▄▀▄

If you offer to bite him and he is aware that it does turn you then he says yes a little too fast

He thinks it’s hot okay, some people think vampires are hot as fuck don’t judge him

If you wanted to bite him while getting a bit frisky then he won’t be mad at all 

He’s lowkey into it

Honestly I hope you have restraint when you drink blood cause he’s letting drink as much as you want

Jay

We saw him being a dumb ass all through the whole series

He’s gonna be a dumb ass now my guy

He’s probably so fucking clueless the entire time up until he probably catches you straight up drinking blood from a blood bag and then his bitch ass acts surprised

He probably tries to run off but comes back as soon as you say “I can explain” cause it’s Jay and he trusted Alex one too many times 

(Before you say it, yes I know it was because he got memory lose but just let me dunk on him a bit for fun)

 But hey, at least you get to explain

Once you explain pretty much everything and all the things you can and can’t do, the only thing he says is “Okay that’s fine... I guess. Just don’t drink any of my blood, okay?”

He probably doesn’t even have enough to fill you with how fucking pale he is /j

He’s honestly weirdly cool with it and might help you hide the fact that you’re a vampire a bit

He was very calm about everything in MH so why would he he frek out about this once he got his answer to wtf is wrong with you