#Thought’d

[wix-0-nightshade]

👁️✨Silly. Silly Me.✨👁️

Whenever you get a silly thought and wanna put in motion….

:]

Hear me out….

When Jon goes. “Somewhere else” he forgets. He forgets the timeline before and it’s a new slate in what he becomes and he things start being familiar. To familiar and it’s deja vu here. Deja vu there. Along this. He had a dream.

A dream he’s walking down a hall(Supposedly to Elias office…..) and along both walls are portraits of the fears. Like Spiral, Vast, etc. Each time he goes to the door and opens it up. He wakes up. Maybe one day find out what’s behind it. But really. He doesn’t understand it yet eheh~

These memories could be triggered. Maybe. Who knows—Just between Jon and Martin.

Thought about maybe Elias since. Eye and all. And could go into play with why he hates Annabelle so—

[waytoobsessed]

Tamus, nissa and the others, preparing to fight smthn:

Kit, forcing Pencil to get used to talking by forcing her to do karaoke: GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUUUN

[robertsbarbie]

i guess i’m just so used to social media and things on the internet living forever that i never thought everything would one day be erased and i couldn’t go back to look at it, like even though it hurt and even though it was ugly it was a part of my history and now it’s gone and i should feel a weight be lifted yet all i feel is sad

[fangs-n-knighthood]

@cannibal-circus

me ur being mean to me online this is who ur being mean to

[unoisveimved-un-proffesional]

Fuckin’ Butcher bein’ a Reddit Atheist at the Bible Club Meet Up, that is just some funny shit.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

The Nightmare Before Christmas Lost in The Book: Over The Spiral Hill

{1} {2}

-

“ “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.” “ You quote as Jack sang opera to your group, the earlier events of discussing music and dances for the festivities. 

Riddle comments at the words, “I never thought’d you’d be imitating Rook on this… Event.” The dorm head mumbles. You grin at the red-head. “He wishes, the song reminded me of a playwright in our world.” You gesture to Yuu. 

“ “Just because I can’t see it, doesn’t mean I don’t believe it.” “ You say the phrase easily, recalling it for this occasion. “That wasn’t from the playwright though… Still a good quote though, you think?” You ask your group, turning away from them. 

…

You felt your face become warm at the line, embarrassed.

-

“Yuu! Grim, Skully!” You happily show off the different details your outfit held. Reminding you of home, hints of Ramshackle hinted in a few stitches.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t realize your’s was a bit stranger than ours.” Grim says, circling around you curiously. 

“It looks good!” Yuu replied, keeping close to you, you laugh.

“It’s very beautiful!” Skully compliments as you blink. An idea forming into your head..

“Hmm, Yuu, I wanted to ask. Do you remember any holidays from ‘Home’?” You ask carefully, knowing the answer. You pick up Grim, watching the other human ponder.

Yuu eyes you back, eyes glazed over thoughtfully. “No, not as much as you.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Skully joins in, listening attentively.

“They’re not from Twisted Wonderland!” Grim pipes up. “Grim, shush!” Yuu scolds, while you hand the fur-ball to them. Skully’s lips part slightly, shocked a bit.

“T-Then.. Where is it are you two from?”

Yuu shrugs, clearly not as comfortable as you were about ‘Home’.

“Uh- Let’s say, very far.”

“Worlds away-” Grim is interrupted by Yuu shoving their face his fluffy neck. “OI! Yuu! Quit it!” Grim swats at their hair as you take Skully’s attention away. Linking hands with his as the four of you walk.

“I wanted to say before, that our holidays are sorta the same and different. A few don’t even exist here.”

“Don’t bring up Chr- ACK! AGAIN?! Stop!” Grim whines at Yuu’s affectionate gesture.

“What is “Chr”?” 

“Oh- That’s a holiday from where from and it’s called-”

You pause. “Let’s say, it’s kinda like… “The opposite”, or more of.. Colorful, cold. Instead of pumpkins and autumn leaves. We have snow, depending on the region, along with carols instead of spooky-sweet melodies!” You wink.

“Instead of a “Pumpkin King” we have this guy called S-.”

Interrupted once more by Grim’s whines, you roll your eyes playfully. “There’s another one too, where we celebrate those who are…” You summarize the best you can. Smiling sadly, “it’s paying tribute to those we miss. To keep them remembered.”

You go on to another holiday, something along the lines of a rabbit and marshmallow birds…

Skully remains quiet, intaking all the knowledge you gave to him. The memories held within your mind, wishing to be shared. Just as precious as Halloween was to him.

Resolved settled within him as they walked further down the path to Jack’s house.

-

After the fiasco with Skully and the Oogie-Boogie squad, Jack had awoken from his slumber while Skully apologized. 

Halloween was back on!

Music played all around town, joining in on the merriment without a care.

Dancing with everyone, you twirl around with different dance partners. Grim, the fluffy beast, tried his best with taking lead with the waltz.

Settling down, you find one of the stray flowers beside you. Plucking it without much thought, pinching at the petals as you stop at a familiar voice.

Tossing the flower away, you readily take Skully’s hand. 

-

Flowers in hand, you walk back to Ramshackle. The graves greeting you as the wind slowly becomes small wisps. A book held tightly in hand, purchased immediately before everyone left Foothill Town. A melody humming on your lips, adorn in a familiar costume you commissioned Vil and Crewel for earlier. Vil even looked… Pleased at the flimsy sketch, seeing the vision easily. As it reminded him of something lost to him. Yuu and Grim follow a few steps away.

Grim held a can of tuna while Yuu carried a  small basket of candies. 

Ramshackle, alight with decorations of purple and green tinsel, along with Diasomnia’s own decor. 

Kneeling by a few unnamed graves, the three of you place the items down. Heading back inside for the rest of the Halloween party.

The ghosts greet you three excitedly, as your guests a few doormates chatter and relax. 

Letting your frown fade, you smile, hands craving over the edges of the portrait that laid above the unlit fireplace. The mantle covered in small decorations of colored skulls, candles and candies. The familiar pumpkin-colored eyes roaming down from above you and your guests.

-

[YALL IM SO PISSED THAT SKULL IS WRITTEN OFF! Im HOPPING TWST decides to put him in the game and give him a card.I’LL SAVE UP FOR IT! HANDS DOWN. I’ll probably be trying to cope a bit with small one-shot drabbles based around him. YALL I CANT!!! If anyone got my references at all let me know, Im so… AUGHHHHHHH! Anyway, thanks for reading!]

[trolllsss]

Branch's parents getting eaten is great angst but might I propose

“I remember when you hatched-” John Dory began.

“What day was it?” Branch asked.

“What?”

“What was the date?” Branch didn’t remember the exact date. He’d only been five when his Grandma was eaten, he hadn’t paid much attention to numbers back then. He knew it was the middle of winter.

“Uh, it was winter. The middle of winter. Right after Mom and Dad. That would have been…” John fumbled. Clay did some quick mental math.

"Twenty-four years ago?”

Wow so they didn’t remember the exact date either.

“Wow that’s, that’s longer than I thought’d been.” Bruce said, looking at the Branch with new eyes.

Floyd shook his head and corrected,

“It’s been twenty three. He hatched the week after Mom and Dad left. It was in the new year.”

“Woah, woah woah woah woah woah. Left? As in not eaten?”

Everyone went still and silent.

“Grandma… didn’t ever tell you?” Clay asked.

“Wh- no! They weren’t eaten by a Bergan?”

“No.”

“A bird?”

“No?”

“A Tarantupuff?!”

“No- is that what you’ve thought?”

“Well yeah! I might have been five but I could tell they were a sore subject so I never brought them up!" Branch shouted, chest heaving and expression distressed.

“Branch, hon, breathe. Calm down.” Poppy said, arms raised slightly, as if she were approaching a frightened animal.

“No! No. I just found out that leaving me behind is a family trait, I am allowed to freak out about it!”

Poppy looked stricken and then corrected herself.

“You’re right, you are completely right. Sorry, old habits.”

“Why did they leave?” He asked, looking back at his brothers.

Floyd checked to see if any of his brothers were going to respond.

Of course they weren’t.

As much as Floyd hated it, he had started to understand his parents better as he got older. They thought they were done raising kids. Floyd was practically a teenager when Branch’s egg came along. They could see freedom and Independence just a few years off and then, suddenly, they had to give their all to another kid for another eighteen years.

“They loved you Branch, really they did. It’s just that kids are a lot of work. Trollings are even more work. And Trolls, trolls just wanna have fun.”

Branch staggered back. Rather than assured and comforted like Floyd had intended, he looked stricken. He whispered,

“It was me? They, they left because of me?”

[devildomditzy]

You sit up straighter in your bed at the sound of grumbling outside your door. It’s faint- so faint you’d barely hear it if you didn’t already know what to listen for; But of course, this has happened before, many times before, so you do.

You rise carefully from the mattress, slow enough to ensure it doesn’t squeak as you do, as to not alert the demon on the other side of the door that you already know of his presence.

You ever so gracefully step across the floor, ghosting your way to the oak wood that separates you from him - and you wait for it.

You hear him mumbling to himself, not loud enough for you to hear, but you do catch a faint slurring of “cmon” and “it’s just the human” and “you’ve got this”.

Then you hear it - the first tiny knock of a shaky fist hitting the wood. An uncertain movement, followed after a pause by more confident ones. You smile to yourself.

You allow a moment or two to pass, as to not seem like you’ve been waiting for the inevitable. You twist the brass handle and pull back, smiling as the nervous face of the second born stares back at you from the hallway.

“Hi Mammon. To what do I owe the honor, your greatness?”

You decide to tease him, of course you do! How could you pass up the chance to see his beautiful face flush bright red. His form shutters back at your words, so quick is you’d barely see it if you didn’t know what to look for; But of course, this has happened before, many times before, so you do.

His composure returns to him quickly as he turns on the charm. “Damn straight it’s an honor! Yer one lucky human, cause guess who I’ve decided is gonna accompany me to The Fall tonight?”

You put your pointer finger to your bottom lip, pretending to think hard. “Hmm…Let me guess. Is it Solomon?”

The joke seems to go over this head, as Mammon looks at you exasperated. “Solomon?! Wha- Whadda mean ‘is it Solomon’? I’m talkin’ about you, dummy! I swear, I know yer human an all that, but I thought’d you’d at least be smart enough to figure that one out!”

You can’t suppress the laugh that bubbles forward from your gut. “Sorry, sorry”, you apologize, “Couldn’t help it.” As you calm down, you decide to poke at him a little more.

“What made you want to take me to The Fall?”

The question makes his whole body lock up as he fumbles to think of an answer. “Well, I- I uh, ya know, I just thought you were probably busy studyin’ like some nerd, and you could use someone to teach ya how to party. Well, get ready, cause now you’ve got an all exclusive pass to Club Mammon, and we’re stayin’ out til the sun comes up!”

Club Mammon, you think to yourself. That’s a new one.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were asking me on a date.”

The poor boy. He can’t even look at you. In fact, he turns his whole body away from you, hiding his face in his hands. “Gah! Do I really need to spell it out for ya! J-just…Just get ready, dammit. I’ll meet ya at the front door in 20!”

Annnd he’s gone. Just as quick as he came. You’d think you two weren’t already dating if you didn’t know any better. But of course this has happened before, many times before, so you do. <3

[teammateswap-au]

TEAMMATESWAP IS NOW 2 YEARS OLD?????? (WHAT) and to celebrate, here’s a draw this in your style…!!! …..thing!!!

suit reference and more info under the cut

RULES

Redraw the drawing above in your style (duh)

You can change the pose or whatever as long as the appearance of the characters are either the same or similar! (Like the original designs, the designs are flexible!)

No nsfw please! (including blood/gore n stuff) Saying this just in case…

No due dates! No pressure! Just have fun with it!

Once you’re done, please use the tag “teammateswap turns two!” and tag this account as well so I can reblog it!

ALSO : The cake is based off of the cake that ralsei (and topchef) made but it can be any other cake or even something different!

AAAND SUIT REFERENCES (if you wanna do a full body thing)

(sorry susie having her hair down was a last minute thing… pretend the ref sheet has her hair down or you can put her hair up idk have fun)

Oh! And there isn’t really a prize or anything, just something I thought’d be fun…

[oftenderweapons]

Natural Connection | KNJ | Ch.6

A Small Town Swoons

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Plum)

Wordcount: 6.6k

Genre: stragers to lovers, fluff, mild angst; ranger/trainer!Namjoon, Chef!reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Namjoon has some skeletons in his closet. Plums helps him bury them in a way that makes him feel almost reborn.

Warnings: discussion of mature topics: sex, emotional abuse. A painful trip down memory lane, burnout, anxiety. Also heavy flirting, making out and loads of raunchy jokes. Mentions of depression, therapy and feeling out of chances to restart

A/N: I’m posting this in some sort of a rush while barely keeping my eyes open,it’s not edited or reviewed, I just want it out there for you to read 💜 I’ll review it in the morning and add links. Love ya 💖✨🥺

Here is my Masterlist, enjoy!

Navi: Part 1 – Part 2 — Part 3 – Part 4 - Part 5

“Lone wolf. That's not a cute way to spend the night.” Jackson's words were just mildly teasing. He was mostly compassionate as he sat beside Namjoon at the counter of the bar. “What's given you the blues?” 

Namjoon shook his head and took a sip of beer. He had never been much of a drinker, and he regretted not being able to hold his liquor properly, because tonight really called for some hard spirits. “Nothing really.” 

“It's her, isn't it? Your Tinkerbell lady.” 

Namjoon grumbled and groaned, letting his head fall to his wrists, current laying crossed on top of the counter. 

“Hey, dude, we thought we'd lost you,” said Christopher as he approached the other two men at the bar. “Oh. I see,” he said as he made himself comfortable on Namjoon's other side. “We all have a vague idea of what happened the other day when you followed her to the bathroom,” Christopher hinted, then rubbed Namjoon's shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?” 

He shook his head, than took a large sip of his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and put down the glass, quite loudly too. 

“I did something, but I don't know what. And today she said she needed a day off. And now I'm wondering if I did something wrong, whether it's my fault she cancelled on today, whether I made her uncomfortable and am now ruining her holiday — something she hadn't had in a very long time.”

“Namjoon—” 

“Maybe I'm not as good a friend with benefit as I thought’d been. Maybe I'm not an easy hot-girl-summer kind of thing. Maybe I suck in bed—” 

“Not unlikely,” muttered Jackson, at which both Namjoon and Christopher snapped in his direction, as if throwing daggers with their gazes. 

“Oh, come on, there's a possibility to it, you've been out of the market for a long while!” 

Christopher grabbed the tray of shots and started making his way to the table where the other guys were hanging out, while Jackson convinced Namjoon to join them. 

“Dude, we've found a way to make this party less about you!” Jackson hollered at Jaebeom, currently wearing a cute set of antlers and a sash that spelled “This dancing queen is getting married”. Very cute, and Namjoon appreciated the Mamma Mia reference. 

“Namjoon is having issues with Plum.” 

He rolled his eyes at your nickname being used by them. They always called you Tinkerbell anyways, why the sudden change? That was his own nickname for you, because of your cute, round face, and soft soft lineaments. And then also because of the taste of sun-dried plums in your mouth that time he kissed you in the pond, after that first, wondrous fuck. Maybe he hadn't satisfied you. Maybe his performance in the bathroom hadn't been as stellar. Maybe you'd already grown bored of him. 

“They're not issues,” Namjoon mumbled, vaguely grumpy. 

“Well, what are they, then? You fucked her and she's ghosting you?” Wooyoung asked bluntly. 

“Woo, no need to use that kind of language,” Christopher reprimanded. “Still, could that be the reason? She's maybe… Embarrassed about something that occurred the other day in the…” 

“You did it in the restroom!?” Mingi exclaimed. 

“A bit louder, Mingi, I think the guy in the corner over there didn't hear it clearly,” said Jaebeom with an eyeroll. 

“It was strange when we parted, yes, but… I guess there would have been other uhm… uncomfortable moments before. She would have bailed after the— uhm— the restroom. Not today? Why today? Why let so much time pass by?” 

Namjoon had always been an overthinker. He'd managed to control his tendencies through meditation and therapy, but once an overthinker, always an overthinker. Sure, you can put a damper on it, but it would be like putting a hyena in a clown costume: at the end of the day, it would still be a hyena. 

And he was struggling to find the words. He did not have the lingo for this. He did not have the nerves for this. He had not been mentally, emotionally engineered for this. 

“I know I fucked up. I'm sure I fucked up. I don't know where or how but—” 

“When I met my wife, I was a mess.” Jaebeom ran a hand through his hair and gave a weak chuckle. “I couldn't do without her. I spent weeks, months pining.” 

“It's your future wife, JB,” Jackson clarified.

“Fuck off, we're getting married, she's already my wife in my mind. One could argue she’s always been,” he snapped, a certain possessiveness taking over. “Anyways, I was saying, before this cold hearted snake interrupted—” 

“You were messing around, I made a move so you could feel the bitter bite of jealousy and realise you were wasting your time and your energies!” 

“As always, thank you for the lesson, but you didn't need to shove your tongue down her throat!” Jaebeom hissed at Jackson, then rolled his eyes. “Again, I was a mess. And I didn't know it, but she was a mess too. We only managed to fix it when we dragged our heads out of the sand and finally stated what we wanted.”

“Which, again, is something we told you to do cause you were a lowly little coward,” Christopher muttered. 

“Okay, whatever, just do what these two tell you to do,” Jaebeom said, exhausted, rubbing his face and picking up a glass shot. “Cheers to my wife, or whatever.”

“Poor woman,” Jackson whispered, which earned him a stormy look from the husband-to-be. “Anyways, what’s holding you back from going there and telling her what you want?”

“The fact that maybe I don’t even know what I want?” Namjoon but back, not without some exasperation. 

“What do you mean?” Christoper’s question was direct, firm. 

“I was… I haven’t been all that… active, lately.”

“By lately he means in the past eight years.” Everybody but Jackson turned to Namjoon, eyes wide, mouth gaping, the picture of disbelief. 

“What the fuck.” Wooyoung’s face was ashen before he shook his head lightly, “And why, for the love of holy smokes, did you punish yourself so?”

Namjoon stared at a glass shot, which Jackson noticed. He grabbed one shot for himself, one for his friend, then handed it over. 

Namjoon stared at it, but Jackson was already clinking their glasses together. “For the incredible woman who brought you back to life.”

“Life is fucking terrifying,” Namjoon whispered, anxiety bleeding out of him. But Jackson was tipping the glass over, the burning tang of tequila dribbling down his throat. 

“It really is, but you loved doing her, or you wouldn’t have done that twice.”

Namjoon’s brain promptly produced a supercut of every naked inch of your body, every curve, every movement, every flop of your hair, every gasp of your mouth, every droplet of moisture that your bodies shared in those moments. He recalled the feel of your breasts in his palms, the pressure of your behind as you ground against his groin. 

“Twice?” Mingi inquired, interested. 

“I’m not going to elaborate on that.”

Christopher respected the boundary, seeing Namjoon’s pained and tired expression. “What do you want from her?”

Namjoon shook his head. “I’ve got no idea. She’s leaving in a couple days. I mean, she’s lovely. But I’m not sure there’s enough time or space to build something more.”

“But you want more?”

“I do, eventually. But I thought it would happen with someone a bit more… Rooted. Here.” He was destroyed, Jackson could tell. Namjoon’s hair was all over the place with the way he’d tortured it with his hands. “But then she happened.”

“And it changed things, right?” Jaebeom asked. 

Namjoon stared at his feet. “The sex is so good. Just so, insanely, otherworldly, unbelievably good.”

“Let’s also say your terms of comparison were scarce,” Jackson added, teasing.

Namjoon smirked, then stared at Jackson for a long, loaded instant. “Both things can be true.” Then, he shrugged, toying with his fingers, smiling at himself. 

“He’s smitten,” Jaebeom said to no one in particular. 

“I guess I am,” he finally admitted. “Maybe it’s because the sex is good. That tends to alter your perception. I also think she’s attractive, and her energy is incredible. She’s also guarded, somehow, and delicate. It really makes me want to stand tall for her.”

“Knight in shining armour,” Wooyoung said with just a pinch of sarcasm in his tone.

“Which she doesn’t need,” Namjoon commented, puffing out his chest. “She’s just… She’s tough, but I just want her to know she doesn’t need to be when she’s around me. That’s what I like, I guess. And she’s unstoppable. She’s not the kind that would lie to you or put on an act to save her ass. She takes what she wants and she weathers the consequences of her own actions. And she’s a leader, she’s got backbone, she works great in a team, people see her, see how competent and hard-working she is, and they respect her for it.”

“Dude, you really are smitten.”

Namjoon grabbed another shot, and the other men quickly joined him. “To life-changing women,” said Jaebeom. 

Namjoon could happily toast to that. 

There… Just… there. 

So close. The lights were insulting his eyes, but his vision was clear. Oh so clear. 

The alcohol had made his eyes glossy and sensitive. And there. There, your door. 

He brought himself to climb the steps, then knock at the door. 

He wondered whether you were in bed. Maybe in the shower, maybe you were already asleep. Maybe you were… like that one time… 

His ears strained, searching for signs of you. 

He knocked again. He could call your phone, right? Did he have your number?

He could— 

The door opened before him, and you were standing there, an oversized white shirt covering your body all the way down to your knees. The fabric was thin and the chill night air was making your breasts peak. The sight of Namjoon right in front of you didn’t help at all. 

“Hi,” you said, a little breathless, and surprised too. 

“Hi.” The greeting was sharp, a little rushed. “I really would like to kiss you right now. Is that okay with you?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then nodded. 

He was upon you before you could even register him, or parse your agreement. His breath had the lightest taste of liquor, and his mouth was hot, as hot as his hands now cupping your face, gathering your face up close to his own. If he could have swallowed you, he would have. He dove for you and you soared for him and you met in between, perfectly, gentle but sure at first, and then it spiraled. 

This is what Icarus must have felt as he reached for the sun, you think, because you feel like burning and flying and falling. But isn't flying something like falling without ever hitting the ground? 

That's how you feel. 

Gravity isn't working where you and Namjoon kiss. It's not working as he wraps and links and loops his limbs through yours, legs and arms and wrists and ankles like ivy. Your thighs are around his waist, and he's holding you up by your hips, then your ass. 

“I'm coming in,” he says and you nod against his lips, waiting for him to come inside you, and you grind against him. Instead he chuckled against your throat, catching the double entendre. “I meant I'm entering your apartment.” 

You purred, heat warming your cheeks, but you were not sure whether it was embarrassment or pleasure. “But you could get inside me next.” 

“There's stuff I need to tell you,” he whispered close to your ear. 

“Can you tell me while you're inside me?” 

Namjoon's laugh was bright and glorious, perfectly rough and warm, the most tasteful combination of a scratch and a caress. “Plum, you're insatiable.” 

You looked at him with surprise, and just a pinch of innocence too. “I— Am I?” 

He closed the door with his foot, still holding you up in the entryway. “It's positively surprising. And very lovely.” 

You nodded to yourself in slow understanding. “Lovely…” you mused. “I never thought I would become something like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Insatiable. Obsessed. Weak and dependent.” 

“You're absolutely not weak. And maybe it's not too bad to depend on someone every now and then.” His nose traced the column of your neck. “And it feels nice, knowing that you're a bit hung up.” 

You cant your hips just right against his, which causes you both to moan, your frown disappearing. “���A bit hung up’ doesn't even cover half of it, trust me.” 

Your short nails bite the nape of his neck and he gasps a little, his hips giving the lightest stroke.

“I'm a bit of all of that too,” Namjoon confesses. “Insatiable. And obsessed. And… And weak.” He shakes his head, then hides his face against the slope of your neck. “I…” 

You smiled as he lost his words again, his mouth focusing on sucking at your throat. 

Your chuckle came out lightheaded and euphoric. It stopped entirely as he fixed his grip on your hips, lifting you higher up with a little bounce, and then lowering you again, against his crotch. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on anything but the burning need at your core. 

He nibbled at your collarbone, then whispered, “Fuck, you're so wet.” There was tension in his voice, conflict. “But I've gotta tell you all of that.” 

“We can do this, and then talk,” you suggested again, your voice coming out barely patient, and strained. Oh, and imploring too. 

He shook his head, then put you down. “Talk first, then I'll do anything you want, Plum.” 

You pouted, which almost broke his resolve, but he caressed your cheek and your frown disappeared like a spring cloud. 

“First, I just want to make sure you didn't stay in today because you were avoiding me.” His eyes betrayed a sliver of insecurity before he looked away, staring at the floor. 

You’re caught off guard by his statement, and you’re not sure how to reply. Did he really think—? “Absolutely not!” You exclaimed, hooking your pointer finger beneath his chin and bringing his eyes to yours. “No, Namjoon. Sure, I’ve been…” You searched for the right word for a couple seconds, “Confused. By some of the things I felt yesterday. But I am not avoiding you at all. I just needed to be off today, and rest. And maybe think about some stuff, but none of it had to do with you,” you stated, reassuringly and firmly, then reconsidered, a coy warmth creeping to your cheeks. “Well, maybe it had the tiniest bit something to do with you. But not in a bad way. Actually in a very good, very mature, very grown-up way.”

Namjoon almost startled at your statement, his head jerking back slightly. “Oh. Wow. Okay.” 

“Oh goodness, you thought I was avoiding you?” You asked him, a smile spreading all over your face. “Really!?” 

“No,” he said, the vowel stretching, his intonation absolutely hesitant, absolutely doubtful, and very, very embarrassed. 

You threw your arms around him, gluing your body to his. “Oh god. Joon, no.” You laid a couple kisses on his chest, then added, “Absolutely not.”

“Good,” he stated. “Still, I was absolutely sure you weren’t avoiding me. So this statement is totally unnecessary and it doesn’t calm my nerves at all, because they were already one hundred percent calm.”

You roll your eyes and place your forehead and nose in a way that aligns perfectly with the valley between his pectorals. “Good, now can you calm my own? Historically, someone telling you ‘I need to tell you something’ doesn’t end in a nice way.” The nervous chuckle you emit then is a clear testament to how much he has become to you. How much you have elaborated in the last hours, corroborating your decisions. 

This is not going to be forever, you think, but I wouldn’t mind if it lasted a bit more. 

Namjoon caressed your head, kissing the crown of it. “It’s nothing big, really. Just a tiny bit of backstory that I think you should know. It sorts of explains some parts of me that could be complicated to other people. Parts I would like you to know about.”

Summertime must be approaching, or maybe the heating came on: anyways you’re feeling hotter and hotter, and you’re pretty sure it’s a flock of tropical birds that is currently storming your stomach. 

“Okay.”

”Let’s get comfy, shall we?”

You agree, then lead him through the room. It’s not the first time he sees it, after all he did sleep here with you a couple nights ago, before he left at dawn for some reason, leaving you on the verge of insanity with desire and doubt both.

He sits at the edge of the bed and you stand before him, ready to climb astride him, except he shakes his head and smiles mischievously. “No way this is happening,” he teased, then slid slightly to his right, avoiding your other leg, letting you sit at his side rather than on top of him. “You’re too dangerous sitting on my lap, Plum.”

He says it in a way that makes it sound like a compliment, and you grin, eyeing him seductively. “Thank you.”

You both turn to each other, and he starts talking. “It’s been a while since I did this, you know. Being… Being intimate with someone.”

You nodded. “You mentioned something about a relationship you used to be in.”

He grabbed your hand, toying with your fingers, looking away, as if retracting within himself. “I’ve had one very long relationship. From fifteen, all the way to twenty years old circa.”

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline. “Wow.” 

“We were extremely close friends at first, then we sort of merged into the relationship until… I guess we just became too different to ever truly be one.”

You nodded encouragingly. 

“Her mom and mine were colleagues when we moved here. I was five or six.” His eyes connected to yours. “I was shy and she was very outgoing. We became friends. Or rather, she befriended me. I was one of those puffy, awkward kids, sort of a nerd too.”

He shrugged and blushed, his eyes gleaming. “In middle school she suddenly changed. She had one of those incredible glow ups. I guess puberty hit her like — I don’t know — suddenly she looked like Aphrodite’s favourite child. She was… She was like a goddess. Being attracted to her was inevitable. I liked her as a person, because she was my first friend here, and because I felt comfortable around her, and she didn’t make fun of me like other people, she didn’t act like I was weird and weak and chubby and awkward. And even though she became so beautiful, and so popular too, she was still kind to me, and treated me like a person.” Namjoon slumped, his stance turning self-protective.  

“Once we hit high school, she’d learned how to use the body genetics had gifted her. She filled it with confidence, and it rewarded her in return. Her attitude and her looks were the kind that spells trouble for a hormonal teenage boy. But despite that, I still cherished her the most as a friend, and the fact that she continued protecting me in front of popular kids making fun of me was really meaningful. I admired her for how she stood up in front of mean kids. She had the kind of influence that could make other kids respect me, or at least tolerate me.”

You held his hand fondly. “I get it.”

His eyes met yours with gratitude, and a pinch of hesitation. 

“And then I turned fifteen.”

You lick your lips, tip your head to the side and observe the smirk on his face. “In about three months, I grew taller than all the kids in my class, and though I wasn’t bulky like the football athletes, I played basketball with a friend of mine, and that kept me pretty fit, plus there was all the trekking and some climbing, and the canoeing too. I was also quite smart, and for some reason, some girls liked that. When we got back to school after summer break, I caught this girl’s eye. We were chatting, and things were getting personal and I ended up confiding in my friend, Aria.” His eyebrow quirked. “She didn’t take it well.”

You frowned, then waited for him to continue. 

“She gave me the silent treatment for three days straight. Meanwhile I was getting closer and closer to the other girl. One day I was talking to her by the lockers, and next thing I know, Aria is gripping my hand, gluing her body to my arm, and kissing my cheek. ‘Hi boyfriend,’ she said.” He shook his head. “The other girl didn’t take it well. She thought I was playing her.” He rubbed the hand across his face. “It took me years to make up for that.” He shook off the feeling, then continued, “By the end of the week, the entire school knew Aria and I were a thing. The week after that, we were making out pretty much anywhere, anytime. I guess it took us about a month before things got extremely serious, and Aria got on birth control because her mother was terrified at the thought of her getting pregnant, and teenage moms were so common back then, and she knew Aria was not really the religious type. She also had the kind of body that gets hyper sexualised because of pornography, you know. Of course any teenage boy would want to see it naked as soon as possible. And eventually do things with. Or have things done by. You get what I mean,” he concluded. 

You nodded. “Did you?” 

He laughed. “I was terrified. I wouldn’t have known where to start with it. And sure, I watched as much porn as any other dude my age, but it’s not like I was eager to reenact it in real life. It felt complicated, and loud, and dirty. So damn dirty.” He frowned and smiled at the same time. “It didn’t feel right.”

You study his face, the slight repulsion he seems to radiate from his body. 

“Then one night we were watching a movie — which actually means we were making out in my bed — and we were so damn close, and of course my body went haywire and… Let’s say she realised I was pretty interesting down there.”

You furrow your brow, trying to understand what he’s implying. “You mean…?” 

“She’d never felt me up, and that night she realised I was big.” The words didn’t come out with arrogance, but with a dry matter-of-factness. 

Your eyes widen suddenly, and he laughs a little, the sound deep and warm, and it sends tingles down your spine. “Oh.”

“That’s about what I said, too.” He smirked, blushing wildly. “Luckily I managed to hold her back that night, because I truly wasn’t ready, and I really wanted to get things right. So I bought condoms online, because I was too ashamed to buy them in person, and I kind of panicked for three days straight because I was terrified my mom or my dad would find out and get mad or make fun of me or whatever. And I did some research on… You know. The kind of stuff you have to erase from your browsing history.”

You chuckle, nodding. Hearing all of this is somehow fascinating. Knowing he was so clumsy, so embarrassed, and yet so committed to making it as safe and right and good as possible. It’s endearing somehow. Not only is he a good man now, but he was a good boy too, and it makes him shine even brighter to your eyes, this commitment to goodness.

“Still, I was not ready, emotionally. But she was impatient, and in the end I said, ‘screw it’ and I gave in. We were sixteen, we were two days into winter break, and this friend of mine has this little cottage by a small lake. He’d left me the keys to the cottage. We went there, and we had sex. I was terrified I was going to hurt her, because I’d read about first time sex being painful and all the fuss about hymens et cetera. But it went surprisingly well. I came in about fifteen seconds.”

You both laugh. “I guess I got lucky.”

He eyes you significantly. “You’ve got no idea how much.” 

“And then?” 

“And then we spend the entirety of winter break doing stuff.” He shrugs. “I could have done without, sometimes, but she was always trying to start trouble. And I wasn’t too strong about telling her no. But let’s be clear, it’s not like she was abusive or something, I was happy to have sex with her. I liked it a lot, and she had my consent, always, before doing things. But at the same time, I knew I was losing some of my connection with her. There was less talking, less quality time, less… We were having sex all the time. We didn’t watch movies, we didn’t read books, we didn’t hang out or you know, the stuff you actually share with someone. All we had was each other’s body and our own. There’s only so much a brain can feed off that. But we weathered it. And she was possessive, so it’s not like I had the chance of finding that with someone else. And the sex made me feel so lucky, knowing that I had someone who loved me so fiercely, someone so out of my league — it all made me feel like I should be grateful and I would be an idiot complaining, or looking for anything else, or trying to change the situation in any way.”

That’s when the pain starts to blossom in your chest. “So you start neglecting your emotional needs.” 

Namjoon nods slowly. “That. Precisely.” His eyes focus on your hands again, trying to avoid your face because he knows his expression might show too much now. “But we’re seventeen by this point. The sex starts to slow down, and we get some of the friendship back. I get a lot less awkward around eighteen, and my resumé is one of the brightest in my class. I’m in the debate team, and I’m in national competitions for writers. I write poetry, and short stories too; I win some prizes, I get published in a paper, then in a review.” 

“That’s impressive.” 

“I’m starting to live my dream life. I get selected in a summer programme for young writers. Aria is very proud of me. I get better at sex too, in the meanwhile.” He gives a boyish shrug. “I start planning my life with her at my side. By the time high school ends, I’ve managed to get a bit less awkward too, and Aria has fixed my haircut and my wardrobe. She gets selected by a university in California for a volleyball scholarship. It scares the shit out of me, but she accepts. She’s convinced we can make it long distance. I get into some niche writing academy on the east coast. 

It’s winter break when we see each other again.We’re all partying by the lake, me and her and some of our friends. We’re all so damn drunk, damn, I couldn’t even count the fingers of my hands. We’re all sitting by the fire when she leans against me and says, ‘You know why I’m sure we’re gonna make it?’ And I smile because I think she’s going to say something cheesy, something about the ring I bought with the money I made from the first short story I actually sold.”

You smile so bright at that, at his success, at such a huge milestone for someone who made writing his path, his vocation — and then it clicks.

Cuisine is your calling, you’ve always known, and that’s one of the first things you tell people when you introduce yourself. If he’s never mentioned writing then it means it never came true. Horror creeps in. 

“She said, ‘we’re gonna make it because I’ve fucked about twenty or so other people, but you still love me. And you’re the fucking best’.” He stops, snickers, and there’s so much self-loathing in the way he moves, the way he breathes. “I went stone cold sober in a millisecond. I asked her to repeat, to make sure I understood correctly. I laughed it off, excused myself to the bathroom, and cried my fucking eyes out. Threw up about three times or eight, then locked myself in a room. The following morning, I left before dawn, returned to my college with my mom. Returned the ring. And broke up with Aria through a text. Changed number. I detached myself from the entire world, disappeared for about a year, except for the people that truly mattered. I finished my programme in record time, mostly because Yoongi needed me back here, and well… I mostly finished school because I had to, but I never went back to writing. It’s like I’d been emptied, and to this day I’m not sure words will ever truly fill me again. I’m not sure they will ever spill from me again, or that I’ll find a way to make them flow like I used to.”

This is so wrong. You end up saying the words out loud. 

“I haven’t dated anyone since then. And I haven’t had sex with someone since the summer before I turned twenty.” 

“That’s seven years, isn’t it?” You ask, making sure you remember his age correctly. 

“It is.”

You whistle, impressed. “That’s… She really mess you up.” 

“I just changed lifestyle. No sex, no smoking, no heavy drinking. Just me, my plants, nature, my job. I love it. It fulfills me.” 

“And no writing? You don’t miss it?” 

He shrugs, and it looks like he’s trying very hard to act like he doesn’t care. But he so blatantly does care. “You can’t miss something you’ve never had.” 

“I think you had it, though. And I think it will come back for you.”

He sighs. “I won’t hold my breath.”

You shake your head. 

“She’s engaged to one of my high school classmates now.” His laugh is bitter. “He proposed last Christmas. Getting married this summer.”

You hesitate around his fingers. Is he still hung up on her?

His eyes meet yours. “And I get mad because I think a part of me still thinks it was supposed to be me. And I hate that part of me. I also hate the part of me that is still hurt over what she did. The part of me that remembers all that sex, and wonders whether it was ever real.” He bites his lip, and he looks mad, truly. “All of this means, I’ve been hurt before, ____, and that messes with my head sometimes. The day I met you, I was attracted to you almost instantly, and that made me trust myself less around you, and it made me doubt you too. I was terrified at how much I wanted you, and the way my body reacted to yours. The way I dreamt of you. And knowing you wanted me too— It terrified me and electrified me at the same time. You’ve been the first woman I’ve wanted, really wanted, in years. And I’m sorry if I’ve seemed hot and cold, but I don’t know what to do with myself. You’ve been nothing but transparent with me, and I know this thing with me and you can hardly go anywhere—”

You go impossibly still next to him and he notices, also in the way your fingers get rigid and seem to retract from his touch. 

“This is all to say, I really want to thank you for being so honest with me so far. And I’m sorry for any weird behaviour I’ve had. It’s just that her betrayal messed with me more than I’d like to admit. And I don’t like people getting too close, but I couldn’t help it with you, and I’m not too happy with the idea that this is temporary.”

You try to align your thoughts correctly, trying to make them make sense. “What do you mean?” 

Namjoon inches closer. “With what?” 

“You’re not okay with this being temporary?” You paraphrase. 

Namjoon grips both your hands, then gets even closer. “You’re here on holiday, we’ve known each other for days, and I’m scared that again it’s just sex pulling me to you. Just some infatuation. I mean, you can’t start having feelings for someone in days. Or maybe you can, maybe I do feel something for you, just the roughest draft of a feeling, but it’s okay if you don’t. I’ve always been pretty sensitive and impressionable, especially with emotions.” He stares at you, really does, like he’s trying to read your mind. “I don’t know whether there’s solid evidence that this could be something more than a holiday fling. I just think it’s precious that I found you, that I got to feel this with you. I’m grateful for it, were it to end, or were it to turn into something deeper, something more structured, more lasting.” 

“Namjoon,” you whisper. Silence hoovers heavily on top of you.

“I’m sorry, I… I exaggerated. I’m too much. Too fast.” He inched away from you, closing off, already hating himself for scaring you off. 

“No,” you murmur kindly, stretching to reach his face, pulling him back closer. “I want you. Want this. Letting go will hurt, but as you said, I’m grateful too for this. This will be bittersweet, but it can teach us something.” Does it make sense, wanting to let go of everything for three very excellent fucks? This must be the sex. It must be the very excellent sex. The orgasms, and the hormones, and the dopamine, and all the stress you’ve been collecting like star stickers from your working at the restaurant. Maybe the long overdue hours of sleep and fucking you need to catch up on. 

You can’t be thinking this while sober, go figure talking about it. “I’m considering making some changes in my life. Maybe this could be the beginning of something different.” 

“It feels unsafe that both of us are truly considering this.” Namjoon speaks like he’s pulling back, except his body is caving in, molding to yours. “If you don’t pull back, I’ll go all in.” 

“You know when we finished yesterday,” and then you add, cheeks hot with shame “in the restroom.”

He hums, his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, and you refuse to resist it. “I remember some bits of it, yes.” His leg slots deliciously between yours, and you follow his lead, purring at the pressure, delicious pressure where your core throbs. 

“It felt like you were taking care of me, for a second. At the pond in the woods too. You’re so caring, and it would be so easy to let myself lean in, get attached. It terrifies me. Because this is supposed to be just a fling, right?” 

“Except we could let it mean more. Invest more in this.” Your bodies are already doing that. Your brains too, because neither of you might be showing their cards, but you both are calculating how much adjusting would need to be done in order for this to work, doing the math of meeting halfway and spending one weekend here, one weekend there, and what’s a two hours drive when you can finally start using your paid leave days, the amount of which has turned insurmountable at this point. 

“Is it worth it? Or are we just high on hormones?” You wonder, but words are starting to come difficult on you, especially with the way his hand is tracing your spine under your shirt. 

“See, that’s what I was wondering too.” Namjoon has pinned your hands above your head, and you’re on your back now, his body strong above you, his heartbeat loud, his chest glued to yours, and his thigh firm between your core, hot and pulsing and wet. “So maybe we should sweat some of these hormones off and see if we still think about this once we’re a little more… sober.”

You nod, as if stunned and hypnotised at the same time. 

“Plum, tell me what you need,” he whispered. 

“Inside. I want you inside.” You lowered your hands to his shorts, undoing the ribbon there. “I never thought I’d be a sucker for being filled to the brim. But you, you…” you shake your head, frustration all over your face. “Clenching around you, squeezing you… I could come from that alone. I wake up from dreams of what we did in the woods. We do it here. We do it in the shower. We do it by the pool. By the lake. In the woods, again, and against the wall. I think about sex with you all the time.”

Namjoon slips two fingers in his mouth as you talk, wetting them, but also using his spit to roughly, rudimentarily get rid of some bacteria. 

He slides his fingers inside you effortlessly and you gasp, then grind on him immediately. He grins like a madman at your reaction and feels himself growing harder too. 

“Does sex with me make you feel dirty, like it did with her?” You ask him, the previous conversation making its comeback on your mind.

”Oh, Plum. Sex with you is the holiest thing I’ve ever done. Sex with her felt like a sin, but this? You said sex to you was like a naked handshake. You can’t go to hell for something like that. But for this? Plum, I’d go to hell for this, and still, I’d choose this on any fucking lifetime I get.”

You slam your lips to his, and there’s nothing kind, nothing polite, nothing romantic about it. Yet, it’s the most romantic kiss you’ve ever had. It’s frantic, and desperate and needy, and his fingers scissor inside you, stretching you as best and as quick as they can. He can’t wait to be inside you either. 

“That was poetry,” you tell him. “You just spoke in poetry. We had naked handshakes. Now we get this. We get naked poetry.” He sucks at your neck and you bloom even more open for him. “I’m going to make such good love to you that you won’t help writing fucking cheesy pop ballads about it.”

He laughed against you, the sound so beautiful you swore your heart could glow golden with joy. 

“Alright, bet.”

Navi: (comìng soon)

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls: Season 3/Ep 7: They Shoot Gilmores Don't They (Henceforth known as Dance Marathon Episode)

Original Air Date: Nov 12th 2002 This is tied with Lorelai Graduation's Day as my favorite episode, so let us begin.

"Charity". All proceeds go into Taylor Doose's pocket. We'll be getting into that shortly (again).

Heh heh. Lorelai tells a ridiculous story about how she didn't win the trophy at the previous DM. Luke declines her invitation to be her dance partner.

Thank you Luke.

THANK YOU LUKE. Allow me to put this into further perspective. *clears throat* *gets up on Bridge Rage soapbox* SO ABOUT THAT BRIDGE...

From the season 7 episode Knit, People, Knit, original air date 11/26/2006. Dance Marathon aired in November 2002. If fundraising had already been ongoing for 8 years by 2002, that means bridge repair began in 1994 and was ongoing in 2006. Therefore, one can deduce it will take a minimum of 12 years for Taylor Doose to replace a few planks of wood on a tiny bridge. Despite there being visible evidence that said bridge is still not repaired after 12 years, Luke is the only person who ever dares to question this. I'm not sure if the last plank of wood was finally paid for in KPK, I can only stick around in Seasons 6 & 7 for a few minutes at a time or I start to break out in hives and no intrepid scientist has invented a Later Seasons Gilmore Girls Vaccine yet. I get my screengrabs and get the hell out. Taylor: We're not raising money to restore the bridge. Luke: We're not? Taylor: No, we have that money, our Tennesee Williams Lookalike Contest put us over the top. This is for a tarp to cover the bridge. We can't start repair on the bridge now at the start of snow and rain season. The work will be ruined and we'll be back at square one. We need a tarp! Luke: Taylor you are asking me to donate free coffee to hundreds of people so you can raise money for a tarp! You know what, this episode is about a dance marathon and Shane Campbell's untimely demise, not political corruption in small town america and Taylor Doose's obsession with a Broken Bridge and how he's funneling town funds into his offshore bank account so he can use the money to take vacations to Maui and then tell the IRS they're just "business trips" for the Small Town Grocery Store Owners Convention. Carry on.

Lorelai managed to snag a dance partner named Stanley Appleman but she quickly loses him after his wife sees a picture of Lorelai and Mrs.A deems Lorelai too sexy to dance with her husband.

Now when has a Gilmore ever slept with someone else's husband? Where would she get such a crazy idea? Pshaw.

I was about to blast past whatever Newspaper Nonsense was about to take place next but then I noticed the background of this shot. Madelyn and Louise my slutty queens! Since Shane's demise is imminnent, going forth they will carry the slutty torch in her honor.

Jamie is about as tittilating as mayonaise on toast. Jamie will henceforth be named Mayonaise. Jaym-onaise?

Rory is right there, Paris. She’s right there. Urrgh. Why must we pretend Paris Geller is straight? Mayonaise was too busy with dullard business at Princeton for the last 3 months to contact Paris, but now he has some free time so he thought’d he come hang around at a high school with a bunch of minors.

Paris Geller's fragile remnants of heterosexuality are shaking in their boots looking at this face. I’m trying to forget that it only gets worse from here and Paris' next love interest is Asher Fleming 🤢You know what it’s fine it’s fine Jaymonaise can stick around it’s fine

SECURITY!

I thought about this weird and clunky "go find a pirate to sit on" long and hard until I think I figured out what the hell she's trying to say.: "Pirates sometimes have hooks for hands, so if you sit on a pirate's hand maybe the hook will go up your ass." That is WILD. She can't say "let go of my fucking hand you knob" on The WB, so "find a pirate to sit on" it is. Paris would say "Let go of my fucking hand you knob" on my gritty unrated realistic Gilmore Girls spinoff with a lot of swearing called The Hollow. And then immediately turn to Rory and make out with her.

Paris is hesitant to go on another date with Mayonaise, so Rory plays wingman and declares that Paris is free to go on a date, Mayonaise says we're going on a date, then Mayonaise steals her books and runs away with them, leaving Paris bewildered with the smell of "only vague consent" lingering in the air.

Dean's one brain cell is either deep in thought or he's about to soil his diaper. I'm very sorry. I'm glad someone in the Gilmore household decided Dean doesn't deserve a plate to eat from. He can eat his pizza on a napkin on top of a limp throw pillow balanced on one knee like the animal he is. What's with this show and wooden bowls full of walnuts?

According to Lane, Dean is deathly allergic to walnuts. *scooches bowl closer to the couch*

Can you even ask any other kind of question?

Can we go back to doing this, as well as going back to feeding him walnut-laced cookies? D: When did you hang up on me? R: When we first met. D:You should have said something. R: But you would have known that I was calling and therefore I liked you. D: But I liked you too! R:I know that now. D: You could have known that then... Hey, can you two shut the god damn hell up? Both of you stay the hell away from phones and answering machines for the next 15 years. Thanks.

Better declare your love quickly before he gets sucked up by the Male Gilmore Girls Character California Wormhole.

Good boy. #CaptionsFail

Dean came prepared with a pillow shield so Lorelai can't grope for his junk.

You're just a boy, you know nothing. But I'll make you a man, Dean. Just toss that pillow aside.

[kedsandtubesocks]

Here are some Jack Daniels headcanons I have and I am shaking my fist at the sky because I never thought’d I’d get lassoed in by this cowboy yet HERE I AM!!!!

Also this is for Laura @lowlights for being the best/worst influence yeehaw ♡

I have a feeling he is a Scorpio - intense, loyal, literally can hold a grudge forever but also loves deeply

This man is a dork and I stand by that because yes he’s gorgeous and suave and yeah can take down a small army but the minute you answer a trivia question wrong about the empire strikes back he is correcting you, polite as ever because he’s an gentleman, but he still knows the right answer and even talks about how the scene where r2d2 is in the mud water was shot in George Lucas’ unfinished swimming pool

This makes sense when you see his rare and signed Han Solo vintage card in his home office

Also probably has a rare stamp collection he prides himself in and it’s adorable and you giggle so much because he is dorky and you are honored to see this side of him!!

Likes butter pecan ice cream because it’s a southern staple and his grandma loved it too so it reminds him of her

When he wanders away from you at the supermarket he comes back to your side and pretends he doesn’t know you, still tries to flirt with you and be playful while you are there smiling so big the entire time just trying to ask him what type of cereal he wants

Loves a good elegant wine dinner but when you decided to order in take out late one evening instead of going out Jack gets hit with those deep domestic feelings HARD

Once he comes to terms with his first wife’s death I like to believe he has this little dream where she kind of reassures him that their love is forever but he is allowed to heal and let love surround him again and it’s then that he really understands that yes she is and forever will be his first love but you are his forever love and after that he feels reborn

This is even more intensified when he stays over at your place and you have a self care night with relaxing face masks and your favorite treats and the minute you offer to put a face mask on him he’s done for, literally in the bathroom when you’re not looking he’s already browsing his phone for matching robes for you and him

Gets hooked into any series you are watching, he is immediately asking questions about who is who and very sincerely gasps when a big plot twist comes (also is an absolute sucker for a good rom com)

Has no ability to play any type of video game except Mario kart which he takes seriously too and he always picks Mario because “he’s a classic honey, can’t got wrong with a classic” and you joke about how boring that pick is until he kicks your ass on rainbow road

Loves to help people on airplanes move their luggage up into the overhead bins, he’s also that guy who can make conversation in line with almost anyone even at the DMV

You learn he almost domesticated a raccoon when he was a boy

Jack also loves a good museum date and can be super insightful but also a bit silly and he makes funny faces at paintings or statues to make you laugh

Big fan of 90’s country and specifically I see him as a Brooks & Dunn man cause he for SURE serenades you with their song ‘Brand New Man’ multiple times

also is probably a Willie Nelson fan and has a framed photo of when he met the country singer himself and Jack proudly tells the story of how they met any time someone comes over and the moment he decides he’s gonna marry you is when you jokingly prove you can repeat the story word for word

His dream is to one day meet Dolly Parton

LOVES to cuddle!!!

Loves dogs of course but when you care for a scared kitten you find under his truck on a rainy night Jack becomes a complete cat dad and even gets the cat a small little cowboy hat that makes him bust out laughing every time the cat wears it

Is a sucker for candles

Isn’t much of a beach guy but would sit in a lazy river for hours

Once you say yes to his proposal he carves your initials with his into a tree on his family’s property and on the day you get married of course shows it to you (you can’t help but cry of course and he does too)

He finds a left over empty bag or wrapper of your favorite snack in his suitcase when he’s on an away mission and calls you crying a bit drunk because he misses you and thinks you left that for him as a reminder that you’re always with him and you’re like ‘no baby that just means we need to clean our suitcases better’

Gets his wedding ring with your birthstone in it

[oneeyed-jacks]

Heard this social media thing’s good for customers so thought’d i give it a go.

[p1nk-syr1nge]

Vacation Buddy. [Platonic! Sniper x Reader]

Sniper notices you’re under the weather n takes you on a road trip. :] Sorry i’ve been so inactive. I’m sooo busy and have little motivation. But here’s some food !! **throws this out like bread crumbs for birds**😚

┌─── ∘°🏩°∘ ───┐

Sitting in the camper van, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and pondering what adventure lies ahead. It was all so sudden.

Sniper, who was currently outside, was filling up the gas tank. He’d barely spoken since last night, and this morning when.

Even if you both spent much time together, it was always silent. He’s always been a man of few words, but that never really bothered you. It already meant a lot that he trusted you enough to even be around you. Wordless sessions of sitting on the swinging bench outside the base, just looking up at the stars.

Nothing spoken. Nothing needed to be said, the company, and soft exhales of cigarette smoke was all that was exchanged from him.

It was a bit of a surprise when he gently shook you awake last night, saying “I’m going on a trip. If you want to go pack up.” For one, he almost never really goes INSIDE the base unless it’s for a meal.

And a trip…? Those are almost sacred to him. A special time to escape his wretched, loud, and exhausting teammates.

But you went ahead and packed, I mean. It was a sign of trust. In your opinion at least… that or he had enough of you and he was finally disposing of your body, but you weren’t gonna worry about that until later.

Again, it was all rewinding in your brain as he closed the gas tank and climbed back into the car. He was busy just adjusting before he motioned to the glovebox.

“Reach in there, will ya?” He requested. And you complied, pulling out a few cassettes and holding it in his direction to pick from. “Huhh… let’s see…” He grabbed one eagerly and slipped it into the radio slot.

Oh….Bee-Gees. Kinda made sense when you thought about it.

But that wasn’t your main thought. While you were both hitting the road now, no exchange of words for a good fourteen minutes. But curiosity got the better of you.

“Hey, Sniper?”

“Hm?”

“Where are we going?” He looked a little dumbfounded at the question. Like it just hit him.

“Oh. We’re just goin’ to a range for a bit. Then the city.”

“Why?”

“It’s just nice to—“

“No, no. I mean, why are you taking me with you?”

“Oh, well…” He seemed to be in thought for a while. Really pondering upon his words before spoken. He never really just said things, there was an anxious precision to it. “The company’s nice. And besides, you’ve looked terrible recently. Thought’d be nice for ya to get some fresh air.”

“Oh wow yeah thanks…” You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly. But he’s right. You haven’t been at your peak. It was kind of heartwarming that he took notice, regardless of the bluntness. 

It was quiet again. But not in an awkward matter. The music playing in the background, the large exhales he let out every now and then, with the humming of the van on the road. It was nice. Tranquil. Better than the constant gunfire and loudmouth, and sometimes crude, coworkers. 

But he was right. It was nice to get out. A long road trip with sights to see. The company was nice too, like he said.

You got some better tips on your aim at the range, and a few souvenirs from city.

It was nice… Now you just gotta convince him to take you again. 

[tobisaw]

sorry about the art spam i hope you guys don’t mind ;; but i won’t be posting art next through 2/18-2/25 in honor of the strike so i thought’d i’d share a chunk with you all

[kanyewithaj]

In my IG, I’ve edited music into a clearer view of the animation: https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cu2vnGDMEEM/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

I posted this to celebrate my 100 followers on Instagram. But how can I leave my Tumblr followers out of the party? Y’all are small in number, but are so very supportive! So this is a gift especially for you!

Its my first original animation, like everything else I come in blind and just go for it. I took lotsa breaks from it and finished in 3 weeks. It’s not perfect, but it’s a labor of love! I never draw without music, and I thought’d it be great to see Abner & Arnold dancing together and enjoying music!