#gecko getting angry about random things

[ilovebeingaturtle]

Do you have any HC's for the Mondo Geckos of both 2012 and 1987?

EEE okay yeah sure!! This is going to be very disjointed I’m just gonna ramble as things come to my head here goes-

Starting with 87 Mondo and some random headcanons, he absolutely loves bright colours and mismatching clothes. It’s a way for him to really express himself you know? He had to learn to act tough to survive but his neon accessories and hair started as ways of rebellion almost. Once he gets settled, I think Michelangelo lets Mondo rummage around their disguises and take whatever stuff he wants that they don’t use anymore, and then even later on they take him shopping so he gets a whole WARDROBE of tacky clothes to mis and match to his content.

I think Mondo took some time to lighten up to the other turtles like he did with Michelangelo. It probably takes him the longest time to connect with Leonardo, he thinks the leader is too preachy and prissy at first. He might be reformed, but he’s no goody two shoes and I could see some conflict arising from that. Leonardo definitely proves his assumptions wrong though, and Mondo grows to have a lot of respect for him instead.

Him and Raphael have a teasing dynamic, they trade barbs frequently but it’s all in good fun. In the beginning? I could see Raphael being very distrustful of Mondo still, he’d mask it with his sarcasm but Mondo would definitely be able to tell. Raphael thought Michelangelo died because of Mondo, that terrified the turtle, but I think that resentment would be resolved once Raphael sees just how much Mondo cares for Michelangelo too. Mondo adores Michelangelo, so as long as he doesn’t hold a gun to him again, Raphael is more than okay with having someone else looking out for their goofball.

I think Mondo is still very self preservational, not really a hero type, but he’s a sweetheart when it comes down to it. It’s easy for him to maybe make a selfish choice when he has distance to it, but if it’s happening right in front of him his always morals kick in-he’ll do the right thing on impulse every time. Or if Michelangelo asks him to. He still can’t figure out how this guy manages to break his resolve every time...

I think he also likely has a degree of separation anxiety, not that he’d ever admit it. He claims to be a lone wolf but the turtles know he’ll always be nearby or in the area at all times because he doesn’t like the thought of straying too far away from them again. He probably still gets nightmares over being taken away, except nowadays they’re almost worse because he can put faces and personalities to who he might loose. There’s also the fact that he’d grown used to always being around the other criminals and working for Mr X, I think he’d likely feel directionless for a bit. Skateboarding is an escape for him, it’s freeing and he can just let everything else wash away. He can spend hours just skating and getting totally lost in it, whenever he gets overwhelmed or lashes out-the turtles know when he runs off he just needs that alone time with his board first before one of them goes to find him.

Mondo likely doesn’t know how to behave around Splinter at first, his past experience with a parental figure/authority weren’t...exactly pleasant, he’s likely uncharacteristically polite around Splinter because he doesn’t want to risk making him angry or not being allowed to hang with the turtles anymore. Splinter always assures him that’ll never happen though. Splinter probably immediately accepts Mondo as his own, which definitely doesn’t makes the gecko tear up what are you talking about-

I think once Mondo finds out how talented of a driver and motorbike rider April is, he’d think she’s so cool. He’d probably even ask her if they wanted to race at some point, April is a bit distrustful of him still, but warms up to him quick, especially after seeing how her boys have latched onto him. I do think that after the whole Dirk Savage incident Mondo becomes more skittish and distrustful of humans though, to the extent that he doesn’t even really want to be around them anymore. He’s so sick of being used and seen as lesser by them, which is why I actually? Like to imagine he goes to stay with the Punk Frogs for a while after that episode? Imagining their dynamic is just so funny to me, the frogs would be delighted to take him in and Mondo quickly discovers he’d KILL for these silly goobers, they become a little family. I do also like the idea of exploring a potential dynamic he could have with Mona Lisa, but I’ll save talking about those for the fics I’m writing with them.

As for 2012 Mondo, I uh. Honestly don’t like this version very much AHA, he feels too comedic relief-y for me to really connect with him. There’s some potential exploring his dynamic with Xever? But that’s all I got rn, sorry!!!

[toyfoood]

MY TMNT AU TURTLE DESIGNS!!!!!

Abt their personalities-

Leo- motherly and protective. His first priority, above all else, is protecting his family. He will go to any lengths to do so. He’s determined and serious when it comes to training, but he’s gentle and goofy otherwise. Despite being most like Rise Leo appearance-wise, he is most like fanon 2012 Leo. He is a red eared slider.

Donnie- blunt and disciplined, the second oldest of the family. Where Leo attempts to protect the family with his strength, Donnie attempts to protect the family by making sure a situation where they could get hurt would never occur. Technically, him and Leo are twins, Leo only hatching a minute or so before him. Donnie creates the rules for the family, and he grows angry if they aren’t followed. Chronic over thinker. They are sickly and grumpy, and really have no moral compass outside of protecting their brothers. They are a yellow bellied slider.

Raph- emotional and easily influenced, snappy. The middle child of the family. Rather than being “the angry one” of the family, Raph is the emotional one, he feels everything much stronger than his brothers. He hates being protected, he feels like it makes him seem incapable, too bad he has two protective older brothers. While Raphael has a strong moral compass, he is easily convinced to go against it. He is also easily manipulated, which Mikey takes advantage of. He is a spiny turtle.

Mikey- mischievous and energetic. The youngest of the family. He loves feeling adrenaline, which isn’t the best when one has overprotective siblings. He sneaks out to raves and festivals often. He acknowledges the rules but doesn’t really follow them. Being the youngest, he finds it extremely easy to manipulate Leo and Raph, but Donnie never falls for it. Mikey has almost no moral compass, nearly everything he does is based on whether it will offer him adrenaline. He is a spotted turtle.

In this AU, The turtles all secretly become vigilantes, each one hiding it from the others.

Mikey becomes Turtle Titan, where he becomes enemies with the Purple Dragons. He meets Mondo Gecko and Leatherhead along the way. (And technically April O’Neil, but all the turtles knew about her prior to the whole vigilante thing)

Raph becomes The Night Watcher, where he almost always fights random criminals, until he finds the Kraang. He meets Casey Jones along the way.

Donnie becomes Duz_Machinez, an online vigilante who suddenly grows aware of a certain Big Mama who keeps paying him to hack stuff, and has now asked him to make some prosthetics for a battle nexus champion. He meets Yuichi Usagi along the way.

Leonardo becomes The Ghost of The City. He quickly starts invesigating the foot clan, but a certain foot soldier keeps gaining his sympathy, Karai. Leonardo attempts to thwart the foot clan’s crimes while avoiding hurting Karai, something tells him not to.

[halfghostwriter]

Danny had been fighting a new ghost for the better half of the afternoon. The ghost, Punchline, had one ability— the ability to turn anything into a joke. As in, they could turn a brick into a hamburger, and it would only turn back to a brick when someone tried to take a bite out of it. They could turn spray paint into a water hose, and only have it turn back to spray paint when someone tried to wash their car with it. It also had varying affects on living creatures— a neighbors skittish cat started barking at other cats, Dash was stuck with a helium-sounding voice, Mr. Lancer couldn’t swear in book titles and instead was actually swearing— and all of them wore off the moment it would be funnier for them to return to normal.

Near the end of the fight, Danny started leading Punchline to the edge of town, closer to a more heavily wooded area. The less they hit in the final few moments, the less time it’ll take to clean up. As Danny avoided Punchline’s joke blasts, he caught a glimpse of the aftermath of one of the things he hit: a little 4-inch gecko with patterning that made it look like it was wearing clothes, standing in front of a rock that was “carved” to look like a spaceship. Which, yeah, that’s definitely a little funny to Danny, even if it wasn’t gecko-specific. When Danny defeated Punchline (so about 5 minutes later), he went over to the gecko to make sure it wasn’t hurt. It was clearly confused, and, yeah, Danny can attest that a sudden pallet swap is pretty off putting. He took it and the rock back with him to town, just to keep an eye on the little guy until it returned to normal.

Except… it didn’t.

Where other living victims went back to normal within a day or so, the gecko and it’s rock stayed exactly the same. And, well, Danny can’t exactly release it into the wild with patterning that would catch the eye of every predator within a mile radius. It’s been a week, and it’s gotten to the point where Danny has an enclosure for the gecko set up in his room, basking light and all (it seemed pretty attached to the ship rock, so that’s in there too). It’s also gotten to the point where Danny’s started talking to the gecko, suggesting different methods of getting it back to normal, convincing himself that yeah the gecko is totally paying attention, see that little head nod? Totally not just a coincidence, that’s totally consent to try out this color-coordinated outfit designed to match the pattern on its skin.

So, Danny and Gecks— he knows it’s a lazy name, but he honestly didn’t expect to get attached and by the time he realized he was, he was already using the nickname, sue him— spend the next month trying out random situations where it would be funnier if Gecks turned back to a normal gecko. Granted, these situations are few and far between because it takes a while for Danny to actually come up with anything. The rest of the time, Danny would take care of Gecks, make his enclosure more comfortable, and just… talk to him. The little guy was surprisingly easy to talk to, despite his permanent angry face. And he really did seem like he was listening.

Gecks especially seemed to pay attention whenever Danny came back from a ghost fight. The first time Danny patched himself up with Gecks in the room, he could’ve sworn the gecko looked even angrier than normal. Danny made a habit of speaking calmly about how the fights where he got injured went down, making sure to emphasize that he won, and he’s fine, really, these things happen all the time. Even though Gecks can’t understand words, he definitely calms down as Danny talks to him, even if his eyes were always glued to whatever injury Danny was patching up.

Gecks is far less calm when he sees Danny getting his injuries firsthand.

Danny had just been fighting Skulker, he knew that much. So when… when did he get back to his room? There’s a hole in his wall now… oh, right. Skulker threw him through a wall.

And now his head really, really hurts.

He puts his hand on the back of his head, and… yep, that’s another head injury. He hates getting those, they always take so long to heal, he has to wait a whole two hours before he can think straight again. He can already feel the bones shifting back into place. Not fun.

He glances to the enclosure tucked safely in the corner of his room, Gecks pushed up against the glass, somehow looking angrier than ever. Danny tried to smile through the pain, wanting to put his little friend at ease.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’ve had way worse. I’ll be fi—”

He’s cut off by a searing pain blasting into his stomach.

Ah.

Right.

Skulker.

Skulker floats into the room, chuckling to himself.

“Oh, I doubt that, Whelp. Unless you have some hidden weapon up your sleeve, your pelt is going up in my trophy room.”

“Oh cmon, Skulker, we both know you’ll never wi—” Danny coughs, cutting though his fake bravado. Honestly, he was pretty terrified, he just didn’t want to give Skulker the satisfaction.

And yet, Skulker laughs. “Oh please, Whelp, you’re helpless! What could possibly save you now?”

From the corner of his eye, Danny can see a distinct glow, the same kind produced by Punchline and all of the things he transformed. He glances over at Gecks, who’s enveloped in a shockingly large glow. The glow settles, and—

Ah.

Yeah, that’s pretty funny, Danny thinks before promptly passing out.

(If anyone else wants to continue this, feel free)

Phantom accidentally turned Darkseid into a 4 inch long gecko and-not realizing this is an evil god- kidnapped him and is keeping him in an enclosure in his bedroom.

It gives Jazz the creeps but she just chalked it up to the angry scowl the thing always had.

Everyone is looking for Phantom for different reasons but no one knows who he is or where to find him. Darkseid is stuck as a lizard and is trying really hard not to bond with this scrawny 14 year old-and failing.

Aka lizard Darkseid being defeated "power of love and friendship" style. Thats it. Thats the post.

[blog-of-reaction]

Alright so, thoughts. I knew that professor was evil but did anyone listen to me? No. How dare the characters not be able to hear my talking at the screen.

Ranger dude (look no one ever says his name, it’s not my fault) is apparently part of some ancient bloodline of warriors or something. Cool for him. He (kinda) got to kill Richie so also good for him. His arc was cool and idk if he’ll be in the 2nd season. But yeah, he’s cool.

Apparently creepy lady is actually kinda a good guy. Who’d’ve thought. So yeah, I hope she successfully kills the nine dark lords and takes down that whole empire.

Richie is actually kinda smart and yeah I’m, he killed his dad but was kind of justified. He and Seth really should’ve figured their shit out though. They never really got some uninterrupted time to actually talk.

Seth is so done with this shit which I can respect, he’s also angry at Richie even though their dad was an abusive piece of shit, which I can also respect. He needs a bit of time to come to terms with this new information. But he just up and left Richie. Like dude, come on. I mean, Richie kinda left him to but whatev. Also, why didnt he grab the money while rescuing Richie. Like, they’ve gone through so much shit because of it (I mean it was never just about the money but I digress). Plus, Carlos mentioned, in front of Richie if I recall correctly, that it was more than just money, that it was something to do with the oil business and expanding their empire so like why in the world?? I hope in the chaos everyone forgot about it and it’s just sitting their in a random place in the middle of nowhere.

Also, Carlos’ reaction when Seth mentioned Richie killed their dad was hilarious.

And finally the heist/labyrinth. That shit seemed way to easy. Like, it’s talked up to be some big thing about how to hero brothers beat the gods at their own game. I honestly hope it wasn’t about that because like yeah, it seemed to easy.

Scott. They never really payed off on that whole hinting that he was a supernatural creature thing. He just got turned into a culbera. And I mean, it could just be my past experiences of watching teen wolf but usually if someone attempts to turn a supernatural something into another supernatural something it doesn’t go well.

Kate. I have a lot of thoughts about her and I’m not sure how to word any of it. But I mean, I do like her and that chainsaw thing was pretty cool. Although why she didnt ask to go with Ranger dude is a mystery to me. Well I mean, not really I guess. Her old life is thoroughly gone now, but still. Like, why didnt she just drive away? However I too can see the appeal of going with Seth Gecko to parts unknown (but knowing that probably you’ll steal some stuff.) yeah. Idk. I’m interested to see how everything has changed her in the next season. Her tenacity is admirable though. When she decides to do something she is going to get it done. I don’t know, she kind of reminds me of Shallan in some ways. I have yet to decide if that means good or bad things to come for her.

Carlos. Dude, how stupid can you be? If you run a big coup and then it turns out your co-conspirator doesnt actually really care about you that does NOT mean that you should team up with the guys you just led a coup against. Like, that is one of the worst possible things to do given who everyone is and stuff.

I really didn’t appreciate the general sexism of the show but I guess I can get over it. I mean, it’s not really that different from other shows sadly.

Gore was a bit much but I wanna see this through. Plus, it’s helping to prepare me for watching Hannibal one day.

[gukyi]

the courtship chronicles | ksj

summary: dating has never been anywhere near your list of priorities, but kim seokjin is nothing if not determined. and when he comes to the rescue and accompanies you to your friend’s wedding, he decides to request only one thing in return: for you to let him take you out on fake dates and shower you in fake affection, and show you how much fun dating can be. he just needs to remember to keep the part where he’s been in love with you under wraps.

{friends to lovers!au, fake dating!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, and emotional hurt/comfort! word count: 20k a/n: big, big, big thanks to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me for this piece!! i honestly am so happy with this fic and even happier to give my main man kim seokjin the love and attention he deserves!!! this fic is pretty much slow burn from start to finish, so enjoy!

check out the post-script drabble here!

“You’re bringing a plus one, right?” Cynthia demands on the other end of the line, voice frazzled and breaths quick. “You better, because I already factored it into the wedding budget. There will be food meant for a plus one for you which I already paid for so you better bring one. I paid for it already.” She’s running in circles, trying to make her point. It’s clear she’s got an awful lot on her plate as it is. 

“Can’t I just eat their serving myself? You know I’m a growing woman,” you plead. Cynthia and the rest of her bridesmaids have been on your back about bringing a plus one ever since she got engaged. 

“No, you have to bring a plus one. Even if it’s your mom, Y/N, I don’t care,” Cynthia says. She makes to say something else, but then pauses. “Actually, I do care. Can it please be a date? Even like, someone you met off of Hinge. I don’t know. Not your mom. Don’t bring her. That would be only a little weird,” she corrects herself. 

“Weirder than some stranger I met off Hinge?” You ask pointedly. 

“No. At least they’re around your age. I want to see you applying yourself, Y/N!” Cynthia scolds. “Go out there and find a man! Pick him up off of the street if you have to! Anything!” She rallies. “Being single is cool and everything but being in love is just as fulfilling!”

“Of course you would think that, you’re getting married tomorrow,” you tell her, sighing. Can’t she just accept that you aren’t really looking for a relationship right now? And haven’t been looking for one since you graduated college three years ago?

“I love my future husband, thank you very much. We plan on leading a very full and extraordinary life with our fifteen dogs and eighteen geckos.”

“Okay, Miss We Bought A Zoo,” you tease. 

Cynthia laughs. “Pretty soon it’ll be Mrs. We Bought A Zoo, thank you very much!”

You hear a knock on the door, turning to check the kitschy cuckoo clock you had found at a flea market for five dollars for the time. It’s six on the dot.

“I have to go, Cynthia, Seokjin’s here,” you tell her, already making to hang up the phone as you head towards the door, using your shoulder and ear to hold it in place. “We’re making a family dinner for two, tonight.”

“Bring Seokjin! He’ll charm the shit out of my mom, I just know it,” Cynthia tells you. “Bring him! Tell him to clear his fucking calendar for tomorrow.”

“Bye, Cynthia,” you say as you reach out for the doorknob, twisting it to reveal your grinning best friend with a bag full of goodies on the other side. “I have to go.”

“Send Seokjin my love! I don’t even expect a wedding gift from him! His presence is enough!” Cynthia shouts, loud enough for Seokjin to hear everything despite the phone not even being on speaker. You hang up before Cynthia can say anything else to goad Seokjin into accompanying you to her wedding, sending an apologetic smile his way. 

“Sorry, that was—”

“Cynthia?” Seokjin finishes with a grin. You usher him into your apartment, letting him place his bag on your kitchen countertop as he pulls out two wine glasses to get the party started. You sigh, helpless. “Yeah, I figured. She’s getting married tomorrow, isn’t she?”

“She’s uber stressed, if that’s what you mean to say,” you correct, joining him in your kitchen as you start to unpack what he brought, countless tupperware containers filled with vegetables, meats, pastas. There’s even an entire bag of rice. Does Seokjin really think you have no rice in your apartment? Seriously? 

“I can imagine,” Seokjin agrees with a laugh. “Thank god you and I aren’t getting married anytime soon, right?” With a flourish, he produces a bottle of red wine you had been saving in your fridge for this very occasion, filling up half of each wine glass. 

“I’ll toast to that,” you say, smiling as you hold up your glass. Seokjin swirls the wine around in his own before holding it out. 

“Here’s to not being romantically involved whatsoever!” Seokjin hurrahs, and you laugh at his honesty as your glasses clink together, the sound echoing around your kitchen. “Who says you need to be married to prepare a kickass meal together.”

“You’re in charge of the meat,” you immediately tell him. You’ve never been the biggest fan of handling it. Vegetables are much more your speed. They also don’t get angry at you when you make a mistake cooking them. Besides, Seokjin’s always been the better food mediator between the two of you. 

“Like always,” he teases, giving you a nudge as he pulls the pots and pans from the cupboard beneath the counter and hands you one of the seventeen different cutting boards you have in random places in your kitchen. You don’t know what it is about them, but every single month you find yourself buying a brand new cutting board. They may as well be drugs. “You should really branch out and try cooking beef sometimes. I’ll teach you, hey? So you don’t have to be scared of it.”

“I am not scared of cooking beef,” you tell him sternly, flinching when Seokjin places the meat in the oil-slick pan and it begins to sizzle and pop. 

“If you say so, Y/N,” Seokjin singsongs. “You know, I’d make a pretty good teacher. I reckon I could show you a thing or two about cooking.”

“Okay, Mr. Cooking Is My Passion,” you say, scrunching up your nose. “Just because I can’t make a damn filet mignon does not make me a bad cook,” you tell him, “whose soup do you ask for when you’re sick and in bed with a cold? That’s right, mine!” You poke his chest for good measure, making him put his hands up in surrender. 

“Alright, alright, I concede,” he says with a laugh. “Your soup is delicious.”

“Thank you,” you say, proudly. “How about I make a couple of servings while you cook the meat?”

Seokjin blows a kiss your way. “Y/N, You know just the way to my heart.”

An hour later, you and Seokjin have whipped up an impressive set of dishes, from your homemade vegetable soup to his traditional bulgogi bibimbap, a small bowl of kimchi in the middle of the table accompanied by some sauteed vegetables and a serving of glass noodles. There’s enough to feed a family of four (one of whom could be a ravenous high-school football player) on your table, and yet, you and Seokjin never fail to finish it all. 

Seokjin takes one bite out of his bulgogi bibimbap and moans in delight, tossing his head back as he holds out two thumbs up, chopsticks clanging onto the side of the bowl as he drops them. “Wow,” he says loudly, patting himself on the back. “I’m amazing. Gordon Ramsey wants what I have.”

“There’s no way it’s that good,” you tease, even though it most definitely is that good. Seokjin is, without a doubt, the best chef you have ever met, the best chef whose food you have ever had the pleasure of eating. If he weren’t employed by a publicity company he would almost certainly be the owner of the best restaurant in the city. The New York Times would visit his restaurant and write a five-star review to be published in the paper the next morning. You take a bite of it yourself, chewing it slowly and pretending to ponder its flavor. It’s delicious. It’s never not delicious. “Hmm… it’s alright.”

“‘Alright’?” Seokjin shouts, slandered. “Just ‘alright’?” He slams a fist onto the table in anger. “This is blasphemy! It’s amazing!” Grabbing the knife beside his plate, he holds it under your chin dramatically, glaring into your eyes. “You better retract that statement, or else!”

“Or else what, Mr. Kim?” You say, desperately resisting the urge not to burst into laughter. Seokjin’s not doing much better, lips pursed tight in an effort not to cackle aloud. 

“Or else I’ll have no choice but to eat all of your bulgogi bibimbap for you!” He cries, reaching over with grabby hands to take your plate away from you. 

Just as he suspected, you hold on tight to your plate, refusing to let such good food go into the mouth of someone who has his own plate. It’s then, as you’re playing tug-of-war with your food, that Seokjin finally breaks into chuckles, hiccuping out his laugh as he concedes and lets you eat your food in peace. 

“Just as I suspected, peasant!” He says proudly. “It’s delicious!”

You put a heaping chopstick-ful into your mouth. “It really is, Seokjin. You always do such a great job.”

“I’m honored,” he says, bowing slightly. “Food is what brings people together.” He holds out a piece of kimchi in front of your mouth, and you eat it obligingly. “Speaking of bringing people together, what was Cynthia shouting about on the phone?”

“Oh, just her wedding, you know,” you tell him with a shrug. “The usual. She’s desperate for me to bring a plus one,” you say. Marriage is disillusioning her. She thinks everybody around her should have a love like her own. And while it is a wonderful, fairytale-esque thought, you just aren’t really on the same wavelength. You never have been. “She even factored it into the budget to guilt-trip me into doing it.”

“Why don’t you?” Seokjin asks, downing a spoonful of soup. “Going to a wedding alone can’t be too much fun.”

“I won’t be alone,” you protest. “I’m one of her closest friends. I’ll know a bunch of people there.”

“Yeah, but you won’t have brought someone who, by way of how plus-one’s work, will be obligated to be by your side the entire night. Who are you gonna dance with when Crazy in Love comes on, huh?” Seokjin points out. 

You frown. “I can dance by myself.”

“Yeah, but a plus-one would make it more fun! You guys can dougie, or whatever it is the cool kids do these days. Is dabbing still a thing?” He dabs, just to make a point. It’s cringey and awful and hilarious, all at once. 

“Stop, stop, you’re embarrassing yourself and I’m the only other person here,” you plead. “You and Cynthia are so on my ass about bringing a date, God. I just—I’m not really interested in anybody right now. Dating just isn’t my thing.”

“Has dating ever been your thing, Y/N?” Seokjin asks, even though he clearly knows the answer already. “I don’t think you’ve been on a date since sophomore year of college. Do you even know what dating is, anymore? Love?”

You roll your eyes. If there’s one person who’s a bigger hopeless romantic than Cynthia, it’s Seokjin. The man has an entire bookshelf of romance novels in his bedroom. He waxes poetic about falling in love every other day, about coming home to a significant other, a family, to cook for, to spend time with. He’s been on more Bumble dates in the past year than you can count on both hands and feet. 

“I know what it is,” you defend yourself, “I’m just—I don’t really believe in that, for me. I don’t ever see myself having it. I have friends. My family. That’s good enough. I don’t need romantic love.”

Seokjin scoffs. “What? You mean to tell me you don’t ever want to fall in love? Never ever? Come on, Y/N. Love is great! It makes you feel warm and happy, like one of those giant Costco teddy bears. Those are the material equivalent of love. Haven’t you always wanted a giant Costco teddy bear?”

“When I was five, yeah,” you tell him. “Listen, Seokjin, I get it. Love is great and amazing, I’m just not that interested. You and Cynthia have been trying to get me to go on a date for years and it doesn’t appeal to me whatsoever.”

“What about dating is unappealing?” Seokjin inquires. He’s determined. And you, the best friend, are weak. 

“I don’t know, having to meet new people, talk about yourself, try to see a future with them. It seems so tiring,” you say, sighing. Seokjin looks positively bewildered, because of course he enjoys dating—he’s so charismatic, charming, and outgoing. Even if a date goes poorly he still ends up with a new friend. “I’m just not that into doing that stuff.”

“Psh,” Seokjin says casually, skeptical. “I bet that if you just gave the whole dating thing a try, you might actually like it. You haven’t gone out on one in so long—maybe it’s different than what you remember. The last time you did it, we were all just college students.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groan. “How exactly do you expect me to ‘give the whole dating thing a try’, then? Last time I checked, I wasn’t particularly interested in anybody.”

Seokjin pauses, pondering for a moment as he taps his chin with his pointer finger. Then, like a smack to the face, it hits him all at once, and in his excitement, he pounds his fist right onto the prongs of the fork by his plate. “Ow, holy shit!” He shouts, excited nonetheless.

“Oh my God, are you alright?” You ask, a little concerned and a lot amused.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assures you, rubbing the side of his palm. “But what I was about to say, is why don’t we go out?”

You sputter, choking on the soup you had just taken a sip of. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

“Why don’t we date? It’ll be fun!” He says happily. 

“Seokjin, we’re friends,” you say. 

He shrugs, carefree. “Yeah, sure we are. But think about it: since we’re already so close, you won’t have to worry about introducing yourself to someone new. You won’t have to go through the whole tell me about yourself thing, we can just jump right into the dating part! It’ll be fun and you’ll get to see what dating is like past the introductions. How about it?” He asks. 

He thinks it’s brilliant. 

You think it’s ludicrous. 

“But, Seokjin, are we actually going to date? Like, be a couple? Because I don’t know if that’s what I was really aiming for with our friendship today,” you say hesitantly. You love Seokjin, sure, but you aren’t in love with Seokjin. You’ve been best friends since college. Won’t it be weird if you suddenly start dating? And doing other couple-y things?

Seokjin waves a hand around like a nonchalant businessman. “No, we won’t actually be boyfriend and girlfriend, or anything,” he promises. “It’ll just be fake. Make believe! Think of it as a dating test-run. What do you say?”

“You sound too enthusiastic for me not to be worried,” you tell him tentatively. He’s like an energetic salesman. It’s a little frightening. There must be some fine print you aren’t looking at. Something that you’re missing. “Are you sure about this? Like, do you want anything in return?”

“Anything in return to help my best friend find love?” He asks, scandalized. “Of course not!”

You frown. 

“Okay,” he gives in, “maybe some more soup. I’m about to visit my mom and she loves it.”

“Why don’t I just come with?” You suggest. Seokjin’s mom is the second-best chef you’ve ever met. Somewhere along the line, Seokjin took what he learned from her and improved it ten-fold. 

“Even better! Mom’s been begging me to bring you around sometime. How about it, do we have a deal?” He asks, holding his hand out. 

You sigh. He’s your best friend, and all he wants in return is for you to visit his mom with him. What’s the worst thing that could happen?

“Sure,” you say, conceding. “Why not?”

Seokjin’s first order of business as your self-appointed brand new not-real boyfriend, is to accompany you to Cynthia’s wedding as your plus-one. He does actually find a wedding gift on such short notice—a fairly new cookbook from which he had memorized the recipes already, so it was no longer of use to him. Because of course, Kim Seokjin is the only person on Earth who memorizes the one hundred recipes in a book just because he wants to. Where does he find the time?

[May 18th, 3:18PM]

Seokjin: Are we wearing matching colors? Seokjin: Or is that too senior prom?

You: As long as you don’t show up wearing white you should be fine

Seokjin: >_> Seokjin: You know that if I wore white the groom would drop everything and marry me instead ;-)

You: Only because of your charm You: I’m wearing pastel pink! I don’t suppose you have anything in your closet to go with that, do you?

[Seokjin is typing…]

[May 18th, 3:20PM]

Seokjin: Oh, Y/N, you don’t even need to ask twice

An hour later, Seokjin pulls up to the curb outside of your apartment complex in his Volkswagen, which is every bit as charismatic as he is, right as you’re scrambling to tug on your most comfortable heels (as if such a thing could exist!), running late, as per usual. The ceremony begins at 5:30 and you and Seokjin were meant to leave for the venue at four. 

It is 4:19. 

Frazzled, you rush around your apartment movie-montage style, tweaking strands of your hair in the mirror in the hallway and nabbing your bottomless bag on the coffee table. It’s not even really summer yet, but your apartment doesn’t have air conditioning and it’s becoming more and more of a curse as the globe slowly warms multiple degrees over the years. The true loser of climate change, rather than the polar bears, the bees, and coastal cities, is you, who thought renting a place with no air conditioning would be just fine. 

Desperate not to open the door to Seokjin with your forehead dripping, you dab off the beads of sweat gathered by your hairline with the skirt of your dress—whatever, you were going to sweat in it at some point—right as you hear the first knock. 

Seokjin’s fashion choices are usually rather conservative. He does work a somewhat menial half-office job, so he can’t roll up to his desk wearing the exceedingly stylish and exceedingly adventurous clothing that Namjoon and Taehyung wear, which, in turn, limits his closet. Lots of plain or argyle sweaters pulled over dress shirts with the collars peeking out, lots of navy jeans, lots of white sneakers and loafers. The only clothing item Seokjin does experiment with is socks, of which he has an impressive collection, ranging anywhere from corgi butts to Santa Claus. 

You didn’t really know what you were expecting when Seokjin said you didn’t need to ask twice after mentioning that you were wearing a pastel pink dress. He does own a couple of pink things, but as far as you’re aware (and you’re pretty aware, considering you’ve been best friends with him since the beginning of college), it amounts mostly to his sock stash and a couple of sweaters, which he most often wears under denim jackets or over dress shirts. 

What you most certainly aren’t expecting when you open the door is to see Seokjin standing on the other side in a full-on suit, a light grey color that complements the peach in his skin tone perfectly. More so, however, you hadn’t at all anticipated for him to be wearing a perfectly-matching pastel pink dress shirt underneath, complemented by a rather obnoxious bow tie with red hairs littered all over it. 

“Wow, okay,” you say, blinking just to make sure that your eyes are working perfectly. “It’s May, why do you look like Valentine’s Day threw up on you?”

Seokjin opens his mouth to send a witty response back to you, but the moment he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all of the words have fallen from his lips. He swallows, hands fumbling with the bouquet in his hand. “Don’t say that to me like you aren’t also wearing the most Valentine’s Day dress I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a pastel pink midi dress,” you tell him, frowning. “At least I’m not wearing something that has cartoon-y red hearts all over it,” you accuse, pointing to his bow tie. 

Seokjin gasps, offended. “Hey! This is my lucky bow tie. It’s never steered me wrong when it comes to love.”

You scoff. “I don’t think Cynthia and her fiancé need your bow tie’s help today. Have you ever seen someone more in love with another person than they are with each other?”

Seokjin pauses. He sighs a little bit, like there’s something weighing on his mind he refuses to divulge. You won’t press. You may be best friends, but you aren’t mind-readers, and sometimes, there are some secrets that have to be kept even from each other. Yours is that when you guys were juniors in college and Seokjin was running late for class because he was desperate to find the last Pop-Tart in his apartment, you had actually eaten it the night before when he was in the bathroom. 

You wonder what his is. 

“You never know,” he finally says, “we could always use the extra luck, don’t you think?”

You nod, “I suppose. What’s with the flowers? You know you aren’t supposed to bring them to a wedding. They probably have enough flowers as it is.”

As if caught off guard by the flowers held in his very own hand, Seokjin turns his gaze down to look at the bouquet, a collection of baby’s breath, tulips, and carnations. “Oh,” he says, speechless. “Well, I was dropping by the flower shop anyway to bother Hoseok, and he said that they had some leftover stock that nobody wanted because they were a little smaller than the other flowers, so he gave them to me at a discount. They’re for you, I guess.” Like a nervous high schooler going on his very first date, he shoves them towards you, making you step back to avoid getting punched in the chest. 

“Seriously? You didn’t have to do that, Seokjin,” you say happily, pleasantly surprised at the bouquet. Sure, some of them are a little wilted, a little dehydrated, but you get flowers so infrequently (in fact, you don’t think you’ve gotten any since Seokjin sent you one of those singular rose grams during your first Valentine’s Day at college), that the gesture is as good as gold. 

“Eh,” he says, shrugging casually. “I don’t really have anybody else I would want to give them to.”

Gleefully, you take them from his outstretched hand and immediately rush to put them in some sort of vase. You, like the piece of millennial trash that you are, end up using a random empty mason jar you find in one of your kitchen cabinets. 

“What time is it?” Seokjin asks, looking around for a clock. 

“Late, we have to go,” you instantly respond, shooing him out of the door and darting down the stairs because the elevator in your apartment building is about four hundred years old and doesn’t even have a light bulb inside of it. You cram into Seokjin’s tiny white Volkswagen, which just screams hipster-mom-in-her-forties, and he speeds off at a velocity that tiny Volkswagen beetles were not meant to go at. 

Surprisingly enough, you make it to the wedding venue with a few minutes to spare, which you largely attribute to the fact that Seokjin was driving faster than some of the SUVs on the highway on the way over. He isn’t a bad or reckless driver. He’s just a driver with certain priorities that rank higher than the act of driving itself. 

“Ah, the smell of nervousness and love,” Seokjin says as you step out of the car, inhaling dramatically. “Smells like a wedding.”

“Smells like the ceremony is about to begin,” you say, and you both rush over the pebbled path to the entrance, giggling like a bunch of high schoolers as you stumble through the front doors very ungracefully. 

“Wow,” Seokjin says, impressed at the extent of decoration. Cynthia had been raving on and on about how she was aiming to have a sort of romantic, Impressionist art painting vibe to the wedding, lots of pastels, flowers, twinkling lights. “This is very impressive. One hundred out of ten.”

“Cynthia’s been planning this for months, so I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear it,” you say, ushering yourselves into the main wedding hall as the rest of the guests file in from chatting outside as the clock ticks down. There are two seats close to the front that Cynthia’s saved for you and your plus-one, which she most certainly will be very happy to see you have brought with you, in the form of your best friend, Seokjin, of course. 

“Aren’t you excited?” Seokjin whispers as everyone settles down. “Can’t you feel the love in the air?”

“It’s not in my genetics to feel that sort of thing,” you retort back, earning a pout from your best friend in return. 

“Well, it’s in mine, and let me tell you, Y/N, it feels like love!” He exclaims happily. “You should be basking in it.”

“Are you?” You round on him. No point in not practicing what you preach. 

“Always,” Seokjin says, gazing at you happily. He seems so content, in this very moment, about to watch a ceremony that will bond two people together for the rest of their lives, devote themselves to each other, wholly and completely. “I’m always basking in it.”

Then, the officiant steps up to the microphone at the front of the room. Seokjin reaches his hand over to grab yours, letting it rest in his palm on his lap, and the ceremony begins. 

Going to weddings as a child, even as an adult to a fairly distant coworker, they’ve always felt so detached from you as a guest. Sure, the ceremonies are wonderful and you’re happy for the newly-married couple, but it’s almost as if you’re watching a movie and instead of being another character, you’re part of the audience. When you leave the wedding venue, when all of the dancing and eating and celebrating is over, you forget all about it, and you move on with your life. 

But knowing the two people standing up at the altar as more than just coworkers, or a distant relative, knowing them as friends, as near family, tints everything in a rosy pink. It’s the most beautiful wedding ceremony you’ve ever had the pleasure of attending. It’s humbling and real and unrehearsed, romantic and funny and meaningful all at once. It makes you feel warm inside, truly, truly happy for your friend and for what is to come in the next chapter of her life. 

Crying was pretty much unavoidable. It was mostly on Seokjin’s end—he’s not as close with either of them as you are, but he certainly loves love much more than you do—but some tears were shed on your end, as well. This is the sort of thing you’d want to talk about for years to come, even after you walk out, in the hopes that a constant reminder will prevent it from ever fading from your memory. 

As weddings go, the next part is the best part: free food. You get to your tables and Cynthia’s fancy (and expensive) caterers come whooshing around with bottles of wine and pitchers of water, filling up the glasses on your tables as the wedding party prepares to enter. You’re seated next to some other old friends from college, ones you recognize and ones you don’t, and ones that Seokjin is very happy to start chatting up the moment you take your seats. 

“Are you here together?” One of the men—you think his name is Nathan(?)—asks, pointing to the two of you. 

“No,” you say. 

“Yes,” Seokjin says. 

You both turn to glare at each other as Nathan—no, maybe Noah—furrows his brows, clearly having not received the response he was aiming for. Seokjin makes a bunch of aggressive and dramatic facial gestures to remind you that you two are fucking dating, remember? Even though it’s not actually real, and that was the part you were focusing on. The not real part. 

“We are,” you correct awkwardly, even though Whatshisface seems to have moved on from the topic. “He’s my plus-one.”

“I’m not as tight with the bride as I am with one of her closest friends,” Seokjin says jokingly, even though you’re the only one who laughs. 

“Yeah,” one of the girls chimes in. “You guys were best friends in college.”

“Still are,” you say, grinning. At least you don’t have to lie about that. 

“So cute,” the same girl says romantically. “I wish I could fall in love with my best friend,” she turns to the man she’s with who clearly doesn’t want to be here whatsoever. “You guys must be so happy.”

“It’s not always a walk in the park,” Seokjin warns, and you don’t have time to smack him in the chest and ask him what the hell he means by that, as the officiant taps onto the microphone to begin to announce the entrance of the wedding party. 

As each couple, each bridesmaid and groomsman, walk through the door, you can’t help but wonder why Seokjin said it wasn’t always a walk in the park to be together. Are you that awful to fake date? 

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Cynthia’s father asks, tapping his teaspoon against the wine glass in his hand. “I’d just like to make a toast.” He turns to where Cynthia and her fiancé are seated, and he looks on the verge of tears. “For as long as I’ve lived, I’ve never seen two people love each other so selflessly. When they’re together, they make grey skies turn blue, turn night into day. All I can wish for you both is that you will forever be each other’s best friend, each other’s rock. There is no greater joy in life than to get to spend the entirety of it with your best friend. Congratulations, Cynthia and James. We are so lucky to know you both.”

Everybody begins to clap. 

Everybody, except Seokjin. 

You notice that his hands are resting in his lap, and when you turn to look at him, you see his eyes welling up, his smile soft and wistful. 

“You alright?” You ask quietly, giving him a nudge with your shoulder. 

Seokjin looks back at you like you’ve caught him off guard. “Me? Yeah.”

“You’re crying,” you point out. 

He shrugs, blinking to let the tears roll down his cheeks. “I just love that,” he explains. “Love knowing that some of us can be so lucky to spend the rest of our lives with our best friends by our sides.”

 According to the ancient law of weddings, the reception is where all guests are mandated to get out of their seats and boogie-oogie-oogie. At least, that’s what Seokjin says, when the food gets whisked away and the space morphs into a dance floor, tables in the center cleared as the bride goes to change in her mandated second dress, because one just isn’t expensive enough as it is. Seokjin just seems to know everything about weddings. It’s almost as if he’s planned one himself. 

“Just wait until all of the stuffy, traditional dances are over,” Seokjin whispers into your ear as Cynthia and her father share a dance. Seokjin looks like he’s about to jump out of his seat, desperate to get onto the dance floor. “You’ve never seen me dance at a wedding.”

“I’ve never seen you dance at all,” you correct, excluding all of the dabbing he did in 2016 when it was still a cool thing to dab. 

“Then you’re in for a real treat,” he says smugly. 

Sure enough, the moment the rest of the guests are invited onto the dance floor to drop it low, Seokjin is the first one out of his chair, and you, the second, begrudgingly dragged to the center by your over-enthusiastic best friend. He’s always been absolutely shameless in everything he does, which makes for high confidence and low embarrassment, two things you are certainly not the strongest in. Which is exactly why you end up side-stepping awkwardly like a geek at senior prom, while he uses every single one of his limbs to express his passion for whatever generic pop song is blasting through the speakers. 

Cynthia’s never been one for niche, hipster music.

“Come on, Y/N, have a little fun!” Seokjin encourages, grabbing onto your wrist and rapidly waving it up and down, making you shake. 

“You can have enough fun for the both of us,” you tell him, still just as aware of everybody else’s opinion of you as you were in high school. Some things really never change. 

“Impossible! Come on!” He says, and you have no idea what dance move he’s about to break into from his positioning, and then you suppose you’ll never know, because the song immediately switches to an acoustic one by Ed Sheeran, which is the most generic type of slow song you could possibly think of. 

“Grab your boys and girls, everyone,” the DJ says, a random white guy who definitely would prefer to make mixtapes in his basement than do this shit. “This one’s for love!”

You don’t even have time to take another step before Seokjin is grabbing your hand with his own and pulling you in close to him. He holds your one hand out and places his other on your waist, and instinctively, you rest your hand on his shoulder. 

When you went to senior prom in high school, your date was this terribly nervous friend of a friend, who asked you because you both didn’t have a real date to go with, and you figured it would be better to go with an acquaintance than nobody at all. And it was sort of fun, because you sat at a table with all of your friends and ate decent senior prom food, and it wasn’t in your stinky high school gymnasium but a fairly nice country club. But when the only slow song of the night came on, thus ensued the most awkward three minutes of your entire high school career. 

This is by no means an exact science, but you figure that the people you are closest to are the people you can slow dance with without it being terrible and awkward and awful. You did it with your parents when you were a little girl in the living room of your family home. You did it with Cynthia at two in the morning one night when she had just gotten dumped by this absolutely rotten boy. 

And now, you’re doing it with Seokjin. And it isn’t terrible or awkward or awful at all. You sway to the soft strums of the guitar and it feels just right. The feeling of his hand in yours, on your waist, of yours on his shoulder. There’s less than a six inches of distance and you feel as close as you have always been. Seokjin feels so natural. He always has, and you know that he always will. There’s no doubt when it comes to him, no regret. 

“Isn’t this nice?” Seokjin asks, grinning at you. 

“Only because it’s with you,” you say back with a smile. Seokjin beams. 

Later, when the slow dance is over and you make your way back to your table so you can watch your best friend make a fool of himself from a distance. Cynthia drops by, blissful. 

“I knew you’d bring Seokjin! He’s charming the pants off of my mom as we speak,” Cynthia says happily. You both crane your neck to see him teaching Cynthia’s mom the floss, outdated as per usual. 

“Yeah, I mean,” you say with a shrug, “who else was I going to bring?”

“He makes you happy, doesn’t he?” Cynthia asks. She looks proud. She deserves it. 

You turn back to look at Seokjin, on the verge of tears of laughter as Cynthia’s mom successfully flosses for the first time. He’s so wonderful. The light of your damn life. “Yeah. He does.”

When the fair comes to town, you don’t find out from posters stapled to utility posts and taped to traffic lights. Nor do you find out from word of mouth, from the two strangers in your favorite (slightly overpriced) coffee shop ahead of you in line. It’s not even your coworkers who mention it to you in passing one day because their eight-year-old has been begging them to go but they can’t because they have a dentist appointment.

It is, because who else would it be, of course, Seokjin, who texts you at 4:18PM on that Saturday and says:

[May 27th, 4:18PM]

Seokjin: I’m on my way over to your apartment to pick you up Seokjin: Don’t ask questions

And it is, in every possible way, the scariest thing you have ever received on your phone. Seokjin’s always been one for spontaneity, but ever since the two of you graduated and stopped feeling the urge to go out to McDonald’s at three in the morning, random activities have become less of a rule and more of an exception. But it’s a Saturday, which means you don’t have to go to work, and it’s near-evening, which means you’ve been sitting at home doing absolutely nothing all day as it is. And it’s May, which means that the sun only sets at seven at night and there is so much to be done in this wonderful weather. 

So, Seokjin’s on his way. 

You spend the next seven minutes (Seokjin lives approximately eight minutes by car from where you live, not that you’re counting, or anything) changing out of the yoga pants you’ve been wearing since you returned from work Friday evening and trying to make yourself look as presentable as possible. You don’t know where he’s taking you. He could be bringing you to an alley to murder you for your inheritance. He’s definitely on your will, that’s for sure. You want to look nice. 

Seven minutes later, you see his tiny white Volkswagen pull up outside your apartment complex as you’re slipping on some sandals. He hops out of the driver’s seat and scurries into the lobby, which signals to you that he is a man on a mission, and you are simply the best friend who gets roped along for the ride. He knocks on your door thirty seconds after that, and you linger for a few moments so as not to seem like you’ve been anxiously awaiting his arrival. 

“Let’s go,” Seokjin declares in lieu of a hello. He reaches out to grab onto your wrist, pulling you out of the door as you frantically make sure you have your bag with you, otherwise you’ll be phone-less, key-less, and lip-balm-less. Three equally terrible fates. 

“What? Now? No explanation, nothing?”

“I parked in the no parking fire lane with my blinkers on, which means we have to go right now. We also have to go because I am very excited about where we are going,” Seokjin elaborates, though it does nothing to clarify the situation at hand. Other than the fact that if you don’t get into his car right now, he’s got a ticket to pay. 

“But where are we going?” You ask again, as Seokjin and you scramble down the stairs to make it to his Volkswagen before the security guard in the lobby starts shouting at him for his illegal parking job. 

“The fair!” Seokjin says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Did you see it was in town?”

“No,” you say dumbly. 

“Oh,” Seokjin says awkwardly. “Well, it is, and I feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while—”

“It’s been three days.”

“—and we haven’t gone out on a real date yet, you and me.” Seokjin explains as you get to his car. Luckily, there is no angry security guard nor a ticket underneath his windshield wiper, so you slide into the passenger seat and he drives off. 

“Yes, we have,” you object. “Cynthia’s wedding counts as a real date.” He was literally your plus-one. What more could define the word ‘date’?

Seokjin scrunches his nose up in clear disagreement. “No, it doesn’t,” he argues back. “Cynthia was going to tear your arm off if you didn’t bring me with. That was a date out of obligation.”

“Aren’t all of these dates out of obligation?”

You expect some sort of witty response, but instead, you’re met with silence as Seokjin opens the driver’s side door, the two of you looking over the top of his Volkswagen wordlessly, each waiting for something. 

What? It’s not like you’re wrong. Seokjin is taking you out on dates to get a feel for what a real, blossoming relationship is like. Except this isn’t real, and your relationship is far from blossoming. It’s bloomed, already. Into an irreplaceable friendship. 

“Yeah, well,” Seokjin sputters, for once in his life, speechless. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, sitting roughly in the driver’s seat as you get into the passenger side, watch as he fumbles to put the keys into the ignition. “Don’t you want to know what a first date is supposed to be like?”

“You don’t have to take me on a fake first date just to spend time with me,” you tell him, the two of you facing forward, staring at the road in front of you as he drives. The radio is playing, some generic alternative rock song that neither of you are familiar enough to warrant turning up the volume for. Seokjin’s always preferred listening to the radio over his own music. Something about ambience while he drives. “We can spend time together wherever. Even if we’re just in my apartment.”

Seokjin’s wonderful and the best and one of the (if not the) greatest people you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, but he doesn’t need to do all of this for you. It’s enough for him to text you in the morning to remind you to drink a glass of water before you eat anything to wake your body up. Enough for him to leave leftovers from your dinner nights in your fridge, so you can savor the taste of his food after he’s gone home. Enough for the two of you to be as you used to be, as you always have been and always will be. 

Seokjin scoffs, honking at a driver who sped through a red light. “Those aren’t dates, Y/N,” he explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “They’re just ways that we spend time with each other.”

“So then what makes this a date? What’s the difference?” You demand. Seokjin’s not making any sense. Sure, you aren’t nearly as well-versed in the dating scene as he is, certainly haven’t been on as many as he has, but from your limited knowledge, you’d always thought that what makes a date is not the setting, not the time or location, but the person you spend it with. 

Arguably, that would mean that all of the nights and days you’ve spent with Seokjin could, by that definition, be dates, but that’s obviously not the case. You’ve always just been friends. 

“It’s a date because I say it is,” Seokjin declares. “You wanna know what makes a date? It’s when the two people—or more, depending on how you swing—decide that it is a date. It’s just a label.”

“If it’s just a label, then why are you making such a big deal out of it?” You ask. You know you’re being a bit annoying with all of the questions at this point, but who’s to say you couldn’t have spent the evening curled up in your apartment and called that a date as well? 

“Because,” Seokjin begins, sighing. His hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles are turning white. “Because,” he repeats, “if someone really wants to impress you, then they will make a big deal out of it. Because you deserve it.”

Eventually, Seokjin pulls into the giant open field designated for parked cars, and expertly squeezes into this tiny space between two absolutely massive SUVs, likely once filled with five children and two very, very tired parents. Sure, you both only have about six inches of space to shimmy out of his car, but it was a good parking job nonetheless. 

“Get you a boyfriend who can park as well as I can,” Seokjin says, patting himself on the back as you head towards the entrance. 

“Why would I need a boyfriend when I have you?” You tease back.

You wait for a cheeky response from Seokjin, turning to look at him when he delivers the blow, but it never arrives. Instead, Seokjin reaches a hand down to grab onto yours, and you walk hand in hand towards the entrance, wordless. He pays, which makes you angry, but he tells you that you can buy a funnel cake for you to share to make up for it, and that’s good enough. 

In movies and books, a fair is a very high-school event for people to attend. Lots of bright flashes of color, loud noises, and junk food, which are three things that society believes deters anyone over the age of nineteen from attending. You can’t name a single piece of pop culture that features two fully-grown adults eating cotton candy and sitting in a ferris wheel carriage. Because the moment you turn twenty, your back starts to permanently ache and noises louder than the sound of your refrigerator making ice give you a headache, of course. 

Seokjin, of course, has never been one to let the media define him. 

He lights up like New Year’s Eve the moment you walk through the gates. Like a child on Christmas day. 

There’s a difference between being immature and being youthful that people often fail to realize, confusing the two, or worse, thinking they’re the same thing. But there are sixteen-year-olds out there who are more mature than middle-aged adults, and there are middle-aged adults who still act like they’re going through puberty. Seokjin was immature when you first met him, the same way all college freshmen are, but over the years lost that mindset while still never parting with the youthful part of himself, the part filled with childlike wonder, with innocence and hopefulness. It has always been part of him. 

When Seokjin looks at the world, he sees it bathed in light, in color. He sees people in their most wonderful form. Sees every day, every moment, as something worth remembering. Sees the future as something worth looking forward to. 

You’ve always envied that about him. Perhaps it’s just in your nature, but you’ve always been jaded, a little cynical. 

A realist and a dreamer. 

And they always say that opposites don’t really attract. 

Here at the fair, Seokjin is more than prepared and willing to have enough fun for the both of you, even as you pull up to one of those impossible-to-win water-squirter games. He’s already pulling out his wallet to hand a couple of bills to the angsty-looking teenager behind the booth. 

“You know that these are totally rigged, right?” You ask, chuckling to yourself as Seokjin rubs his hands together with a wide-eyed excitement. 

“Just because they’re rigged doesn’t mean winning is impossible,” Seojin says confidently, taking a seat and gearing up to begin. You stand to the side, arms crossed, waiting to be sufficiently unimpressed. “What are you doing standing there? I paid for both of us.”

Before you know it, Seokjin is pulling you down into the seat next to him as the teen counts down, giving you a very monotonous three seconds before the bell rings and you have to aim weakly-pressurized water into the mouth of a faded plastic clown. 

You’ve never had the best hand-eye coordination. On multiple occasions, Seokjin has tossed you a fruit, a bag of rice, something non-dangerous and relatively large, and on multiple occasions, you fumble to grab it and it eventually ends up on your kitchen floor. It takes you about half of the minute you’re given to blow up the balloon to get your aim straight, and by then, Seokjin’s balloon could eat yours for lunch. 

“Pick up the pace, Y/N!” Seokjin teases, relishing in his lead. This is embarrassing, and you’re better than this. And yet.

“It’s working against me and you know it!” You defend yourself. Because their unfairness is the reason Seokjin’s about to win and you’re about to lose. 

“How can you say that when I’m doing so well?” Seokjin laughs, and his balloon pops the moment that the sixty-second countdown ends, an underwhelming blare of celebratory music playing through the speakers at the corners of the tent. 

A sad little “Better luck next time!” echoes from the clown in front of you, and you slam your water gun on the table as Seokjin gloats in your face, the teenager coming over to hand Seokjin his prize, looking dead on his feet. 

“What should I get, hmm?” Seokjin asks. 

The selection is pretty weak. A lot of Frozen merchandise, two-dollar stuffed Olafs and capes with Anna and Elsa’s faces on the back. A couple of nondescript stuffed animals, from glittery lizards to pastel teddy bears. What looks like a generic-brand Whoopee cushion. 

“You don’t want a stuffed Olaf?” You ask innocently. The design is a little off, so it looks like Olaf is staring into your soul, Mona Lisa-style. 

“Hmm,” Seokjin says, pretending to think about it. The poor kid looks like he’s about to faint from boredom, desperate for two fully-grown adults to stop acting like they don’t know what prize to pick from an amusement park booth. “How about the pink teddy bear?”

Very on-brand for him. The teen hands it to Seokjin and the two of you go on your merry way, Seokjin demanding the two of you go to stuff your faces with funnel cake before rounding out the night on the ferris wheel. 

“For you,” Seokjin says, holding the teddy bear out to you as the two of you stand in the surprisingly-long line for funnel cake. 

“Me?” You ask, eyebrows raised in disbelief as your fingers curl around the fluffy fabric. It’s softer than you thought it would be. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, certain. “To remind you of me.”

You grin, holding the bear close to you. Sure, it’s a little bit kindergarten, like the cute boy on the playground placing a quick kiss on your lips before the teacher calls everybody in after recess ends, but the gesture is more than enough. To know that Seokjin won something, even something as plain and inexpensive as a prize from a fair, and his first and only thought was to give it to you, well, that makes you happy. “I don’t need a bear to be reminded of you,” you muse. Not when there are pieces of your friendship lingering everywhere you walk, from your apartment to your old university to your mind. 

“Can’t hurt to know you’re always thinking about me,” Seokjin says, and it’s not greasy or smug or weird. It’s honest.

You laugh. “When am I not?”

Funnel cake starts with a black t-shirt and the two of you arguing over who’s going to foot the ten dollar bill, much to your dismay. Even though Seokjin had explicitly said that you could pay, since he covered your entrance ticket, he still makes a big deal about doing it himself in front of the poor funnel cake girl, who definitely doesn’t get paid nearly enough to watch two grown adults fight over a ten dollar funnel cake. Eventually, you get your way and successfully hand the girl a ten dollar bill and she hands you a paper plate piled high with funnel cake as you begin to search for an open place to sit. 

“Just because I said that you could pay for the funnel cake doesn’t mean I actually meant it,” Seokjin says with a frown as you scope out a place to sit. At evening’s peak, it’s nearly impossible, which leads the both of you to a curb next to a recycling bin piled high with plastic cups, stained with Coca Cola and Fanta, knees up to your chin as you crouch over a single plate of funnel cake.

“Isn’t this cozy,” Seokjin says with a grin as a burly middle-aged dad steps on Seokjin’s clean white sneakers to throw something away. 

“We’ve been in more cramped quarters before,” you say. One of the many instances that immediately comes to mind is when the two of you were trapped in a closet in a frat house for nearly two hours because two people on the other side were having sex, the entire time. It was a good bonding experience. The two of you got very acquainted with each other’s scents. 

Seokjin’s hasn’t changed. Still sweet, sugary and vanilla from all of the baking he does, and a little bit like raindrops.

You wonder if Seokjin thinks the same about yours. 

“You know I don’t mind where we are and what we’re doing when I’m with you,” Seokjin says, and it sounds like a line straight out of a Hallmark movie, cheesy and cliche and rehearsed. But it’s none of those things. Seokjin says it and it’s real. And it’s the sort of thing that makes you wonder if you’re ever as true with him as he is with you. 

“Even when we’re sitting on the ground and eating funnel cake next to a recycling bin in a fair filled with messy children and their deadbeat parents?” You ask. 

Seokjin nods, taking an enormous bite of funnel cake. “Yes, even then.”

“True love,” you muse. Very few people would you do this for. Seokjin is one of them. 

Seokjin coughs at the words, his whole body shaking, and the powdered sugar from the piece in his hands goes flying, like a tiny little blizzard, falling onto his skin, his shirt, his lips, and everywhere in between. Snowflakes. 

Funnel cake ends with Seokjin trying to wipe the white dust on the front of his pitch black t-shirt away with a napkin, and only smearing it further into the fabric, cotton turning sticky from the sugar. It looks like a cocaine bust gone wrong. It looks only slightly not-kid-friendly. 

“Am I addicted to cocaine or did I just spill powdered sugar on myself?” Seokjin jokes, much to the horror of a family passing by, the mom giving you and Seokjin an alarmed expression as she picks up the pace. “It was powdered sugar!” Seokjin calls after them, making the two of you laugh. “Or it was cocaine. Whatever you want to believe.”

“You’re too soft to do cocaine,” you tell Seokjin, a very strange sort of compliment. 

“Maybe powdered sugar, though,” Seokjin says with a laugh as you heave yourselves off of the curb, tossing out the paper plate and dusting off your hands, flakes of powdered sugar falling to the ground. “Ferris wheel?”

“Anything you want,” you tell him, letting him lead you towards the ride, lit up like a Christmas tree. 

It’s as if every possible holiday threw up on the damn thing, a jumble of rainbow flights flashing erratically as a generic carnival tune plays in the background, sluggishly moving on its axis. It couldn’t have been built before this century. 

You squeeze into the carriage, clearly built to fit a child and their father at most, let alone two adults who both don’t have a regular exercise schedule. In order to fit, you have to stretch a leg over Seokjin’s lap and lean so that part of your shoulder is against his chest. It’s… cozy. It’s most definitely not the most cramped either of you have ever felt. 

“This is the part where I pretend to yawn and then stretch my arm over you,” Seokjin says matter-of-factly, as if that particular action is a mandatory part of the date.

“Oh, is that proper first-date etiquette?” You tease. 

“Only for me,” Seokjin says, cheeky, and it’s the greasiest thing you’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing. Even so, you let him fake yawn, melodramatic and totally contrived, feel as his arm comes to rest on your shoulder, hand swinging down over your side. Instinctively, you reach up to grab it with your arm, letting the two of you sit like this as the ferris wheel creaks, slowly moving you upwards. “Aren’t you having the best first date ever?”

“It’s the only one I can remember,” you admit, especially since it’s still in progress. 

“That means it’s the best.” Seokjin grins. 

“And the worst,” you add on, making Seokjin laugh. 

Finally, finally, finally, you reach the top, overlooking the entire fair, lit up in the night in a warm pink and yellow haze. At this hour, only the teenagers are left, families having gone home for the night, and you can hear the cheers even from up here, hear the laughter and jokes and chatter. it’s a sort of ambience you’ve never had the pleasure of listening to before. One of an active night, filled with people, and you, far away enough to be out of the action but close enough to enjoy it nonetheless. 

“Isn’t this nice, Y/N?” Seokjin asks, the two of you looking out into the distance, wishing you could stay like this forever. “When we’re up here, it feels like I can forget about everything and just think about now.” If only you could stay like this forever.

“And what are you thinking about, right now?” You ask, head resting on his shoulders. 

Instinctively, his arm moves from your shoulder to your waist, tugging you into his side, letting you rest your legs on top of his own. Seokjin’s never needed to be more honest than he already is. He says what he means, and he means what he says.

It’s always been so easy when it comes to him. 

He lets out a breath, and you can feel his chest rising beneath your hand on his torso, feel the subtle beat of his heart beneath your fingers. 

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

He rests his head atop yours. “You,” he says.

Seokjin, a man of his word, holds up his end of the deal like he does everything else: honestly and fully. Little has really changed about your relationship dynamic—he still sends you good morning texts and reminds you that you need to drink your eight glasses of water (which you never do, and he consistently does because he’s an organized man with perfect skin). Still randomly comes to your apartment with two brown bags filled with groceries to last you the next two weeks. Still makes time for you.

But now, it’s all being done under the guise of courtship. Of what it’s like to have someone romantically interested in you. 

Of course, Seokjin’s not actually romantically interested in you, but he does a damn good job of pretending to be. For the sake of this whole thing. Seokjin still has one objective in mind: get you to believe in love again, and that all of these things he’s been doing, from taking you to the fair to dancing with you at Cynthia’s wedding, are means to accomplish an end. 

(The stuff in between, the texts, the calls, the visits, those are just part of your routine.)

It feels completely normal and totally unnatural, all at once. Like a new kind of relationship neither of you have really ever delved in before, toeing the line between friendship and this other feeling, one without a name. Seokjin will do something that you and he have always done, long before any of this was in motion, like ordering Indian takeout to your place unprompted, and then he will say that that’s what people are supposed to do when they’re courting someone. As if he is the end-all be-all of chivalry. 

Truth be told, you can’t wait for this to end, for things to go back to the way they were. You never did set an official fake breakup date (if that’s what it’s even called), but you suppose that that means that you can just call it off whenever you’d like. You don’t feel as though anything he’s doing is working. He treats you just the same. What is there to fall in love with, other than familiarity?

But Seokjin’s diligence makes you diligent, too, which is why you’re standing in your kitchen, outnumbered by vegetables (ten to one, which means they could definitely kill you if given the chance—and opposable thumbs), a gigantic pot on your creaky gas stove, boiling soup swirling inside. Even though your kitchen is nowhere near the level of organized and systematic as the Chopped set, it certainly smells like it. Your cooking can hardly compare to Seokjin’s (you roughly chopped vegetables and put them in broth, he makes kimbap for fun), but, like all other aspects of your life, he rubs off on you, one way or another. 

Seokjin seems to think that this transference of his personality will apply to how he feels about love, too. But time can only work so much magic, and ever since freshman year of college, for the seven years you’ve known him, it’s always been like this. 

You let the soup simmer on your stove as you begin to pack up the food scattered on your counter, unsure when next you’re going to use it, especially since your daily meals usually consist of leftovers and, if you’re feeling exotic, stir-fry. It’s then that you hear the knock on your door, and you don’t even need to think before you’re scurrying over to pull it open, revealing Seokjin leaning over to peek happily into your peephole.  

“Look who it is, for a change,” you say sarcastically.

“You mean your favorite human being in the entire world who is about to take you to see his mom and enjoy a nice home-cooked mom meal?” Seokjin corrects obnoxiously, making you laugh as you let him inside. 

“You blackmailed me into this,” you remind him, pointing an accusing metal soup ladle his way. “You convinced me that you’re doing me a favor by treating me like someone you’d want to court, and tricked me into making an enormous pot of soup for your mother!” A lose-lose situation. 

“I am doing you a favor,” Seokjin defends. “Don’t you love having a doting, attractive young professional taking you out to fairs and ordering you take-out? This is what the beginning of a relationship is supposed to look like.” Emphasis on supposed to. “Also, I accompanied you to Cynthia’s wedding after she had been talking your ear off trying to get you to bring a plus-one, so…”

A dirty, dirty play. 

“Fine, you win,” you concede. You did really appreciate him coming, especially so last minute. “I better hear nothing but pure, unadulterated praise coming from your lips when you eat my soup, or else.”

“I would have showered compliments on your soup even if you hadn’t sent me a thinly-veiled threat,” Seokjin says proudly. “What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Perhaps one that confused you a little less. 

You spend the entire car ride to Seokjin’s mom’s house (who lives forty-minutes out of the city) listening to him ramble on about how desperately his mother wants him to get married, settle down and have kids or a dog or two. The two of you still have half of your twenties to go, but the moment he graduated, Seokjin got a steady job and a nice apartment in the city, which immediately equates to marriage material. 

At least, that’s what his mom thinks. 

But those aren’t the sort of things that make Seokjin marriage material. You’ve known him for years. Ever since he first spoke to you, it was immediately obvious he was always the sort of perfect, dreamboat husband material that teenage girls fawn over, that characters in anime fantasize about. 

At the most basic level, Seokjin is goddamn attractive, and even if you’ve seen him in nothing but tighty-whities as a nervous eighteen-year-old, seen him with tomato sauce in his hair, seen him sick with a cold and strep throat, you can’t deny him that. He’d got the sort of looks that make people on the street take photos of him, thinking he’s a celebrity. 

But not only is Seokjin undoubtedly gorgeous, he’s an entire package. He’s an excellent cook, capable of impressing any and all parents, hilarious, charming and charismatic. Professional but never dull. He does his part in group projects, studies for his exams, listens to the music recommendations you give him even if they aren’t his style. The girls he dated in college knew exactly what they were doing when they went out with him. They were attempting to secure their future. It’s a shame none of them stuck, not like you, Elmer’s glue on his skin. 

Seokjin’s mom, the lovely woman she is, is under the impression that Seokjin became husband material when he graduated, got a job and moved to the city. But you know better than anyone—Seokjin’s always been husband material. Now, he’s just old enough that he knows he could be looking for himself. 

When you pull into Seokjin’s mom’s driveway, a little suburban home with a freshly-mowed font lawn and flowers by the mailbox, she’s already opening the front door and scurrying out, still wearing her slippers. 

“Eomma!” Seokjin says happily, getting out of the driver’s seat as she bounds towards him, the two of them wearing the same smiles on their faces. Like mother, like son. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long!” She chides, smacking him slightly. “You have to come and visit me more often. I don’t live that far away from you.”

“I’m busy, Ma,” Seokjin says with a roll of his eyes. “I have a job.”

“A job and no wife!” She exclaims, though her attitude immediately changes the moment you exit the car, pot of soup still warm in your hands. “Y/N!” 

She rushes over to give you a hug as well, albeit a much more careful one. She looks positively thrilled to see you. Seokjin’s mom has always liked you, even when you were an insufferable eighteen-year-old. They would invite you over for their Chuseok celebrations every year, and sometimes to their New Year’s Eve parties, if you were in the area over winter break. 

“No wife yet, Eomma,” Seokjin says. 

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” Seokjin’s mother tells you. She takes the pot from your hands wordlessly, refusing to listen to your protests as she shoos you both inside. 

The house smells of a home-cooked meal, savory and salty and sweet all at once, and you can see several dishes already laid out on the table. It’s both a familiar sight and scent, something you all too frequently experience whenever you barge into Seokjin’s apartment around mealtime. Seokjin immediately joins his mother in the kitchen, scrambling around to help her finish cooking, as you wait awkwardly by the table, easily the most inexperienced of the three of you. 

“Is this your soup?” His mother asks. 

“Yes, I thought to make some to bring tonight,” you say with a smile. Seokjin’s mother beams. 

“Delicious! Seokjinie always tells me how much he loves having it when he’s sick. You take care of him very well,” his mother grins. She places it on the stove, turning on the heat to warm it up. 

“Only because he does the same for me,” you say, sending a grin Seokjin’s way, one he returns instantly. 

The rest of the meal preparation (which doesn’t take long, especially with an extra pair of equally-gifted hands) goes by like this, Seokjin’s mother heaping compliments onto you as you stand there, helpless, watching as the two add the final dishes to the dining table. Seokjin dodges every question about his lack of engagement, always deflecting and shifting the topic to something you’ve done. Maybe this is why he wanted you around…

Finally, when dinner is ready, the three of you sit down, eager to pick up your chopsticks and dive in. 

“Seokjin’s father is away on business,” his mother explains after you note the empty place setting. “He sends his love!”

“I knew I was missing the dad jokes,” Seokjin says with a shake of his head. “Luckily, I can make up for them with my own.”

Seokjin’s mother laughs. “You must get a lot of this, don’t you?” She shoves an extra serving of fish onto your plate, letting it plop on top of the kimchi she had previously spooned onto the dish. “Eat, eat. I made it for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a smile. You’ll probably walk out of this house with a food baby the size of Jupiter. You always do. “And yes, but it’s nice. I like spending time with him.”

“Oh, thank God,” Seokjin says dramatically, a hand to his chest. “I was worried about that, for a second.”

“You two have always been inseparable,” his mother comments. “Don’t tell me this is why you haven’t married yet, Seokjin-ah.”

“What do you mean, Ma?” He asks over a mouthful of naengmyeon. “You know that I’m waiting to get married.”

Seokjin’s mother scoffs, shocked. “What? But Y/N’s right here! You two make an excellent couple.”

“Eomma!” Seokjin admonishes, even a little taken aback himself. You had no idea this was the secret plan his mother’s been plotting, all this time. It seems both you and him were just operating under the assumption that she was doing what all mothers do when their children are adults—dreaming out loud for grandchildren. 

“I’m sorry, did I misread something? You two are a couple, aren’t you?” His mother asks, positively bewildered. No wonder she’s been grilling Seokjin so hard about getting married. She had thought he was halfway there, already. 

You open your mouth to correct her, but your mind gets the best of you. Isn’t this what Seokjin wants? For people to think you’re a couple? For the true dating experience—are they, aren’t they? 

“No, Eomma,” Seokjin says, interrupting your thoughts. You turn to him, brows furrowed in confusion. “We’re just friends.”

Nobody mentions marriage, dating, or love for the rest of the meal. 

You excuse yourself to the bathroom once everyone is finished, Seokjin’s mother shooing you away from the kitchen sink, refusing to let you partake in any sort of clean up as the honorary guest. You’re glad to get away, the tension palpable and thick, looming over your heads, a reminder to all three of you that friends is all you have been, and friends is all you will ever be. Strangely enough, Seokjin had seemed the most disappointed out of all of you, even more so than his mother, whose dreams of grandchildren were crushed before her eyes. 

You wonder why. 

If Seokjin had been so adamant about the two of you calling yourselves a couple at the wedding, then why did he backtrack here? Was it his mother? Was it you? What could have made him change his mind?

As you walk back to the kitchen, you can hear the two of them having a conversation, hushed voices so as not to alert you. You take a step back from the entryway, hiding behind the wall to eavesdrop. 

“You must see the way she looks at you, Seokjin-ah,” his mother says. 

“No, Ma, that doesn’t mean anything,” Seokjin says, voice cold. 

“Yes it does, my boy,” she says. “Can’t you see it? The way she cares for you.”

“That’s just how it’s always been.”

“Seokjin-ah, please. You’re being stubborn.”

“Eomma, believe me, I know better than anyone else that we’re only ever going to be friends.”

“You don’t see it, then?” His mother’s voice is sad, helpless. “The way she loves you.”

You hear Seokjin suck in a breath, a deep, heavy inhale, weighed down by his thoughts. At that moment, you decide to round the corner, pretending like you haven’t hear a thing. 

“Y/N!” Seokjin’s mother exclaims happily. “Your soup was delicious. You’ll have to come over more often so I can keep having it.”

“I’ll have Seokjin send home a thermos with it,” you joke, lightening the tension you can still feel lingering in the air. 

“Ah, you’re too kind!” She says, sending you a warm smile. Seokjin hasn’t turned around from where he’s facing the sink, yellow rubber gloves up to his elbows as he scrubs the dishes clean. “Seokjin-ah, you must remember to bring Y/N more often. I love seeing her.”

“Yes, Eomma,” Seokjin says dutifully. When he finishes, he packs up the leftovers his mother is sending him home with, placing tupperware after tupperware into a plain brown bag. “Y/N, ready to go?”

“Yes, it’s getting late,” you say, the words stiff on your tongue. Seokjin seems closed off, bottled up. There’s something he’s not saying, and you can feel it weighing on his tongue. “it was lovely to see you again.”

“Of course!” Seokjin’s mother grins. “You must visit me again soon. I’ll be waiting!”

“Bye, Eomma,” Seokjin says as you head to the front door, pulling on your shoes as he opens the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Remember what I said, alright, Seokjin-ah?” His mother says, pulling him in for a hug. “You mustn't ignore what’s right in front of you.” You can’t help but wonder if maybe, you had overheard something you weren’t supposed to. 

In the car, you ask, “What was your mom talking about? When we were saying goodbye?”

Seokjin shrugs, nonchalant and calm. It’s so plain that it’s uncharacteristic of him. “Oh, nothing.” You hate not knowing what really lingers in his thoughts, rests deep in the pit of his heart. You want nothing more than to reach over and promise him that, no matter what, you’ll always be by his side. “She just wants me to look out for myself.”

Even on this clear night, the moon and stars visible above your heads, your mind (and heart) couldn’t be foggier. 

In your freshman year of college, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 had just been released on DVD, digital, and Blu-ray. Seokjin, the eighteen-year-old genius he was, had brought a projector to school that year, and so, one chilly November weekend, you and him set up in an empty lounge with a perfectly white wall and watched (spoiler alert) Voldemort get Avada Kedavra-ed at one in the morning. 

Ever since, monthly movie nights have been ingrained into your routine, even when Seokjin was in London for a semester in your junior year and you used a shady website so you could stream Netflix movies together. You think, that semester, you watched every Certified Rotten movie on Netflix possible, relishing in being able to joke about how terrible the films you were watching with your best friend. You almost thought you would break your tradition, just because of how difficult it was to organize. 

But still, you persisted. 

Of course, now, in the age of platform subscriptions and renting on YouTube, it’s a lot easier. Seokjin has a subscription to every movie-streaming platform under the sun, which means that by default, so do you. One of the many perks of having Seokjin as your best friend. 

As two mostly-functioning adults in the real world, this is how your movie nights typically go: you will alternate apartments as the designated living room of the weekend, the host is in charge of arranging a pre-show dinner, and the guest is in charge of bringing a bottle of wine as a gift. You eat dinner, drink wine, and watch a movie together, either on the couch, or, in emergencies, in bed. The host always chooses. Three years out of college and running, neither of you have been able to come up with a system more foolproof than this. 

Tonight, it is Seokjin’s turn to host, which you always prefer because he cooks dinner on his own instead of giving up and ordering takeout like you always do, and because his couch and bed are much more comfortable than your own. Not that you frequent his bed. Because you don’t. You just know that from your limited experience, it’s much more comfortable than your own bed. It’s probably his mattress. 

When you arrive at his apartment, his door is already cracked open, resting on the door frame as you can hear him whistling a tune you don’t recognize. Almost like he’s been expecting you, or something. 

“If you leave your door open like this, you’re gonna get robbed,” you announce, forgoing a hello as you barge inside, the apartment smelling of smokiness. “Whoa, what the hell are you cooking? Lava?”

“I accidentally set off the fire alarm,” Seokjin explains, back turned towards you as he bends down to pull something out of the oven. “That’s why the door’s open.”

“Oh, not because you were expecting a guest?” You tease, placing the bottle of wine on the counter as you join him in the kitchen. 

Seokjin turns around to reveal a baking dish with four chicken legs, drenched in a sauce that smells of spice and flavor, charred on the skin. Gourmet restaurants couldn’t even compare. 

“No,” he jokes. “I was gonna eat all of this food and drink this wine by myself.”

“Hey, that is my wine!” You shout, making grabby hands towards the neck of the bottle. Seokjin raises a single eyebrow, unimpressed, as he dishes up the food, two chicken legs a piece on some luxurious paper plates. “Fine, I guess we can share.”

“You know you can’t resist me,” Seokjin tells you, and you hate it, because it’s true. 

 As you finish up, washing the pots and pans as Seokjin puts away the various bottles of seasoning on his counter, some of which you can’t even name, he asks, “Couch or bed?”

You turn, scandalized, swatting him with a fork lathered with soap, “So forward!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Ugh, you know what I mean. You know I don’t mind where we watch our movie.”

(So long as he’s with you.)

You give the two options not another second worth of thought. You’re in the mood to lounge around on Seokjin’s terribly comfortable mattress tonight. You’ve had a rough past week at work, and sometimes, if you complain enough, Seokjin will massage your shoulders as you watch the movie. 

“Hmm… bed, please!” You say like a child, wrapping up the dishwashing as Seokjin grabs his laptop from the coffee table by the couch. You skip into his bedroom, giddy and only the tiniest bit wine-drunk, Seokjin following like the heavyweight best friend he is. 

Seokjin’s bedroom space has always felt so familiar to you. Plants along the windowsill, shelves with photos of his family, an enormous full-length mirror for gratuitous outfit-of-the-day pictures. Even in college, it felt this warm, this cozy. When you knocked on the wooden door of his dormitory at midnight to go out and get McDonald’s, coming back and gorging out on your McNuggets, it felt like this. 

People always say that your bedroom should be your little sanctuary, a home within a house. But instead of your own bedroom giving you that comfort, it’s Seokjin’s. Here, more so than anywhere else, you feel safe. Warm. Loved. There’s something magical to it. 

“What are we watching?” You ask happily, jumping onto his bed and grabbing the nearest plushie to hold onto. Seokjin plugs his laptop charger into the nearest outlet and sets it up on a couple of pillows for optimal viewing pleasure, the two of you leaning against a mountain of pillows as he pulls up Netflix. 

“To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, have you heard of it?” Seokjin asks, clicking play on the movie. 

You furrow your brows as you curl into him, letting your head rest on his chest. “Really? I thought you were gonna pick something cool, like Interstellar, or something. Not something my fifteen-year-old cousin loves.”

“First of all, your fifteen-year-old cousin has great taste,” Seokjin tells you, offended. “Secondly, just because this is a teenage romantic comedy doesn’t mean it’s any less cool than Matthew McConaughey in a spacesuit, okay?”

You’re still skeptical. The New York Times gave To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before a pretty decent review, but you have long outgrown your teenage coming-of-age romantic-comedy movie phase, even if you still quote Clueless regularly. As you’ve gotten older, your movie nights have transitioned away from young adult books turned into movies and more towards films that people like Lupita Nyong’o star in, movies with sad endings on purpose. So this is very out of character, especially for a movie junkie like Seokjin, who sends you weekly movie reviews of the latest indie divorce drama.

You snuggle in closer, accepting defeat. It is Seokjin’s turn to choose, after all. And you suppose, that after a long week of unforgiving work, you could use this time to unwind, mindlessly watch a movie geared towards high-schoolers instead of analyzing some unknown French historical drama. “Alright then,” you tell him. “I trust you.”

Famous last words. 

You always have a habit of putting your trust into your best friend at the absolute worst times. Example One: In junior year, when he swore that the new salad place on campus was delicious until you got food poisoning from their chicken. Example Two: The summer after you graduated, when he promised you that roller skating was “easy” and “fun”. Example Three: Two months ago, when he blackmailed you into letting him take you out on dates after promising to go with you to Cynthia’s wedding. 

Example Four: Right now, as you’re snuggled up together like two birds of a feather, watching two sixteen-year-olds agree to fake date for personal gain. And even though they’re high schoolers, and even though he’s going through with it to get back at an ex-girlfriend and she’s trying to recover from her disastrously-mailed love letters, it feels too similar to be something that Seokjin just happened to stumble upon. 

You turn to look up at Seokjin, the movie a distant hum in the background, hardly at the forefront of your mind, but he doesn’t spare you a second glance. Instead, he pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your torso as his fingers dance across your own, mindless. He doesn’t have a damn thing to say, a rarity in your relationship, letting the movie do the talking. 

I think it’s funny, the boy says as the two main characters sit in this absolutely ancient diner, you say that you’re scared of commitment and relationships, but you don’t seem to be afraid to be with me. 

Well, there’s no reason to be, the girl responds casually. Unbothered. 

Why’s that? He asks. 

She shrugs, nonchalant. Because we’re just pretending. 

You feel Seokjin’s grip tighten, feel his skin pressing against your own, the exposed part of your stomach where your shirt has ridden up. It’s almost like he’s afraid to lose you. The mere sensation, one you have felt hundreds, if not thousands of times before, sends shivers down your spine. 

“You cold?” He asks softly, pulling up the blanket that’s crumpled up by your feet, placing it gently over your bodies. 

You couldn’t care less about the movie playing in front of you. Not when Seokjin’s this close, not when he’s got his arms wrapped around you, not as you feel his soft breaths against your forehead, as he tucks you underneath a blanket. You’re frozen still next to him. You think that even your heart has stopped. 

Dozens of movie nights, but never one like this. Dozens of cuddle sessions, dozens of nights in. But this one feels brand new. 

Seokjin adjusts himself, turning in towards you. You can’t even feel yourself breathing. 

When did this start happening? You ask yourself. Why do your palms feel clammy? Why does his touch leave little embers along your skin? 

Traitorously, your mind responds, a question to a question. 

Hasn’t it always been like this?

Tuesdays have always been your least favorite day, because they’re Monday’s shitty cousin. They’re far enough into the week to have you not complain about it being the beginning of the week, but they’re too soon into the week to warrant any excitement about it ending. At least, when you wake up to go to work on a Monday, you know it’s a Monday. When you wake up to go to work on a Tuesday, you think it’s a Wednesday. Tuesday is the day of the week that wears a mask and tries to make you think it’s something else. 

After the printer jamming, salad dressing getting spilled on your pants, and your coworker losing his cool in the break room and breaking a cabinet door off of its hinges, you think that, when you get called into your boss’s office in the middle of the afternoon, there could be nothing worse for him to tell you. 

Instead, you walk out of his office with a brand new job title and a salary increase to match, positively ecstatic as you bounce all the way to your desk, whipping out your phone to text, well, who else?

[June 16, 2:43PM]

You: I GOT IT!!!

Seokjin: OMG SERIOUSLY?? Seokjin: CONGRATS YOU DESERVE IT !!!!

You: thank u jinie 8) now i can buy us more expensive wine for our movie nights

Seokjin: :D Seokjin: I’m so proud of you, you’re amazing!

And it’s the sort of text exchange that makes your heart soar, even more so than the promotion itself, because there is truly nothing more fulfilling than sharing your accomplishments with the people closest to you. 

You pack up later than usual that day, sitting at your desk for a little bit longer as you wrap up some emails and reorganize the space, determined to make it suitable for someone who just got a kick-ass raise. You’re leaning underneath your desk to gather your belongings, plopping your phone charger and a couple of nice blue pens into your bag, when you feel a sudden tap on your shoulder, scaring the absolute bejeezus out of you.

“Ow!” You shout as you bang the back of your head on the underside of your desk. Angry and in pain, you turn to face the asshole that’s just given you a bump on your scalp for the next week, only to find your expression lightening the moment you lay eyes on Seokjin, fresh from work with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Shocked and pleasantly surprised, you say, “Oh.”

“Don’t sound so excited to see me,” Seokjin jokes, rolling his eyes as he reaches a hand out to help you up. “You alright? I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Rubbing the nape of your neck, you shake your head. “No, no, I’m alright. You just caught me by surprise. What’s all this?” You ask as Seokjin reaches his hand towards you, the flowery scent permeating the air around you. The bouquet in his hand is a collection of various pastel-colored flowers, baby’s breath and lilies, carnations and hydrangeas. 

“A congratulations,” Seokjin says in lieu of any other sort of explanation. “You deserve it.”

“You make it sound like I’m pregnant,” you tell him, grabbing your bag as you double-check your desk, making sure you haven’t left anything behind. 

“Oh my God, are you?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide. 

You laugh, shaking your head as you accept the flowers graciously, immediately holding them up to your nose. “No, I’m not, Seokjin. You’d be the first to know. But this is so sweet of you, you didn’t have to come to my work like this.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to pick you up for dinner?” 

Stopping in your tracks, you knit your brows together in confusion. “Dinner?”

“The reservation is at 5:45 so we’re already cutting it close,” Seokjin informs you, offering no explanation. “Come on. I had to pull a few strings to get this, so over my dead body will we arrive late.”

Seokjin reaches down to take your hand in his own, giving you no time to ask any more questions as he tugs you out of your office and into his little white Volkswagen, the scent of the flowers filling the air in between the two of you. 

When Seokjin somehow manages to get a parking spot a block away from the restaurant in question, your mouth practically drops open. 

It’s a cozy Lebanese place, complete with more plants you could ever dream of owning, and an outdoor patio decorated with warm fairy lights, lanterns hanging from strings above your head. It’s been ranked one of the best restaurants in the city for years now, and it is practically impossible to get a table (that is, unless you book a year in advance). 

“Seriously?” You ask, in awe, as Seokjin leads you towards the restaurant, the flowers resting safely on the passenger seat. 

“Of course,” Seokjin says like it’s nothing. “You deserve it.”

You aren’t a moment too late, the hostess happily seating the both of you at a corner table on the outside patio, the evening breeze sending flutters through your napkins as she hands you your menus and the wine list. 

“How did you swing this?” You ask, blown away as Seokjin grins. 

“Well, you know my friend, Yoongi?” He asks. You remember him, having met him a couple of times at Seokjin’s few-and-far-between house gatherings. He’s a dainty man with colorful hair who’s got the biggest alcohol tolerance you’ve ever seen. “He’s a food critic, so I had him do me a favor…”

“You didn’t have to do all of that for me,” you say. Seokjin probably owes Yoongi his first-born child, now. 

“But I wanted to,” Seokjin says firmly. “What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn’t celebrate something like this with you?”

Seokjin must know, after all of these years, that you aren’t one to make a big deal out of things. That you vastly prefer staying inside, curled up with a good book or an even better best friend, over going out and getting wasted, over eating at a too-expensive restaurant with portions the size of your fingernail, because that’s who you are. And still, he insists, because that’s who he is. Someone who thinks that everybody deserves a little celebration in their lives, a little love from the people closest to them. 

“You’d be my best friend no matter what,” you tell him, because it’s true. Because Seokjin has always been and will always be that person: the one you’ll never second-guess. “Even if you had gone home after work and passed out on your couch, you’d still be my most favorite person.”

Seokjin grins. “I’m your favorite person?”

“Well, other than Yoongi,” you tease. “After all, he did get us this reservation.”

“Can’t believe that I’m second best to a friend you’ve met like, twice,” Seokjin says, mock-offended. “How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“You’ll find a way,” you muse. He always does. It’s incredible—ever since you met Seokjin, you don’t think anyone’s ever quite stacked up to him. Nobody has ever compared. 

“I’m really proud of you, Y/N,” Seokjin says, the two of you clinking your wine glasses together to celebrate your promotion, celebrate the night, celebrate being together. “You deserved that position more than anybody else.”

“You don’t even know half of my coworkers,” you joke. 

“But I know you,” Seokjin reminds you. “And I know that you’re the most hardworking, determined, focused person I’ve ever met. When you want something, you get it.”

“What?” You ask, a hand reaching out over the table to caress his own, thumb rubbing against the back of his hand. “You’re like that, too. You’re honest and real and certain.” They’re traits you’ve always admired about him, things that you wish you could be but know that you’ll never compare to him. 

“No,” Seokjin says, with a shake of his head. “I’m really not. I wish, though.”

Seokjin’s the truest person you know. What secret could he be keeping? Why hasn’t he told you? Doesn’t he know that you’d care for him, stay by his side no matter what? Not a damn thing in the world could ever make you leave him. 

Your waiter comes around to take your order, and you and Seokjin order a variety of appetizers that you fully intend on sharing with each other. You’ve never really been able to keep to your own plates. There is something so genuinely wonderful about sharing. Afterwards, Seokjin launches into this hilarious story about some old college friends that he had recently heard back from, ones that you’d met once or twice during university but never cemented a real friendship with, unlike Seokjin. 

Quite honestly, you couldn’t care less for them or what they’re doing, but Seokjin is so animated, so vivacious and excited to be telling you about them, that his words are music to your ears. Nothing makes you quite as happy as Seokjin when he smiles, when he laughs, when he’s fucking effervescent. His joy brings you joy, and you suppose that that’s really what it means to care for someone. To love them. When even something as simple as being in their presence makes your heart feel lighter. 

In the evening light, illuminated by the warm flame of the lanterns littering the sky above you, the fairy lights along the fence that encloses the patio, the house lights from the building next door, Seokjin glows. The way his body bounces as he speaks makes it look like a yellow halo surrounds him, his gold jewelry glinting when it catches the light, shimmering. He looks straight out of a movie, straight off of a red carpet, warm brown eyes and an honest smile to match, charismatic and golden and real. 

The craziest part is that he’s always looked like this. Always outshined everybody, no matter his surroundings. Every day, you wonder how on Earth you could have gotten so lucky to have been able to meet him. How blessed you are to be his best friend. How fortunate you are to love him. 

When your meal arrives, the two of you take a break from laughing aloud in this ambient, cozy restaurant, likely bothering all of the people within a twenty-feet radius of your table, and dig in, only emitting the occasional groan of pleasure. It’s no wonder this restaurant has been ranked the best in the city for years on end. Every bite explodes on your tongue, decorates your taste buds. You won’t be surprised if, next time you go over, Seokjin’s recreating every dish you have tonight. He’s always had a knack for it, anyway. 

“You know,” he says over a mouthful of zucchini, “you’re my favorite person, too.”

Normally you’d say something cheesy and dramatic, something along the lines of a sarcastic I’m touched or even a self-deprecating At least I’m number one at something, but instead, you smile softly to yourself. You always knew you and Seokjin were entwined with each other, but it makes your heart flutter to hear him say it for himself. 

“I know,” you murmur. “I’ll never forget that.”

“I don’t know, I just—” Seokjin begins, pausing. It’s not the sort of stop where he’s trying to figure out what words to say. He already knows. He’s just waiting to see if they’re the right ones. “You know, it’s always been you, Y/N. A lot of my life has always been uncertain, but you—you’re the only thing I’m always sure of.”

Afterwards, Seokjin walks you to the door of your apartment, the two of you lingering in the doorway, him refusing to leave and you refusing to say goodbye. 

“Don’t forget these,” Seokjin says, handing you the brown paper bag filled with your leftovers, various to-go boxes filled with treats. 

“What? I thought you wanted them,” you say, eyes wide. “Don’t you want them as reference for a recipe?”

“No, it’s alright,” Seokjin tells you with a shake of his head. “I’ll remember.” 

“Are you sure?” You ask. Seokjin nods, certain. He’s got a steely expression to him, one filled with determination. There’s something he’s not saying, and you’re almost positive it’ll come out tonight. Maybe he knows that you ate that Pop-Tart in junior year. Maybe he’s about to get his revenge. To protect yourself, you smile, telling him, “I had a really nice time tonight, Seokjin. You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

“I wanted to,” Seokjin repeats. He need offer no other explanation. “Any excuse to spend time with you, I’ll take.”

You laugh. “I suppose that that’s what this whole pretend-dating thing is about, right?” 

Seokjin’s face goes blank.

“What?”

“Well,” you say, shrugging as you reach out to grab his hand. “Dinner tonight, isn’t that the sort of thing you’d do on a date? That’s why you took me out to celebrate instead of just bringing over some wine and takeout. I have to admit, you’re pretty good at this whole dating thing. Must be why you offered, right?”

“Y/N, I—”

“All of those romantic things you said, us playing footsie underneath the table, getting the reservation from Yoongi, I mean. You’ve always loved pulling out all of the stops. You’re giving me such unrealistic expectations for dating, you know?” You chide, grinning as you toy with Seokjin’s fingers amongst your own. Looking up at him, he looks frozen solid, gazing at you with an unreadable expression. “Hey, is everything alright?” Your hand trails up to his shoulder, forcing him to meet your eyes with his own. 

They’re swirling in ink. 

And then, he leans down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in, and presses his lips against your own. Shocked, you gasp into his mouth, feel the heat of his lips on yours as he kisses you, fervent and desperate, like he’s got something to prove. You feel your heart race, dropping the brown paper bag by your side on your hardwood floor as he presses in closer, insistent. It’s as if your entire body shuts down at his touch, at the feeling of him against you, on you, surrounding you. 

Eventually, your mind comes to, flickering back to life after being entirely short-circuited, and you pull out of his grasp, pushing him away with your palms against his chest, gasping for air. 

“Seokjin, what the—”

“I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” Seokjin tells you, and no longer does what he say sound like a line straight out of the Dating 101 Handbook. It sounds honest, and what once was something you treasured about him has morphed into fear, into words you dread coming from in between his lips. 

“No, that’s not—”

“What do you mean?” He asks, insistent. He takes a step towards you, and it makes you take a bigger step back. Being far away from him makes you ache, but being close to him is absolutely unbearable. It’s impossible to know which one your heart would prefer. “That’s how I feel. That’s how I’ve always felt.”

“I can’t—I need—” You stumble over your words, backing up into your living room, hand reaching out to the doorknob. You don’t know what you can’t do. You don’t know what you need. All you know is that your heart hasn’t stopped racing the moment his lips met yours, and that you aren’t sure what will happen if Seokjin stands outside your apartment any longer. “I just—”

“I know,” Seokjin says with a nod. His face is beet red and he looks just as breathless, sending your way a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know that you don’t feel the same. But I just—I wanted you to know.”

“I don’t know what I feel,” you whisper to yourself, eyes boring holes into your shoes. “How could I?”

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, reaching a hand out. “I’m sorry—”

“No,” you interrupt. “Don’t apologize. Just—please, just go. Please.”

Seokjin doesn’t protest. Not as you shoo him away, not as you begin to close the door in front of him. 

The door is nearly shut, barely inches away from the door frame, when you hear him call your name. “Y/N,” he says. If you were any more heartless, you’d shut the door, let the last thing you hear from him be your own name. But you aren’t, and not once have you ever closed the door on Seokjin. Not now. Not ever. 

“Yes?” You whisper, terrified of what he might say but too desperate to avoid it altogether. 

You hear him hiccup. You don’t want to see him cry. 

“You’re my best friend.”

(Kim Seokjin prides himself for being a man of few mistakes. He has good time-management skills, triple checks his entire apartment every time he leaves, and only illegally parks in the fire lane when he knows he won’t get a ticket. He’s got great foresight, makes educated decisions, and generally feels as though everything he does will benefit somebody, in the long run. 

You always tell him that you envy how put-together his life is, how picture perfect it seems—stable job, nice apartment, meals prepped and ready to go in his fridge. And even if you aren’t nearly as obsessed with falling in love as he is (and he’s willing to admit that, at least), you tell him that it’s admirable that he has all of this time to go on dates with women he’s met off of Bumble or through a friend of a friend, making an effort to go out into the world and do something with his love life. 

The truth is, Seokjin has been on more dates in the past year than to work events in the evenings and on weekends, but he’s never seen the same person twice. Sometimes, he ends up with a phone number punched into his contacts and a promise to meet again as friends, but most of the time they pat him on the back after it’s over and tell him that they hope he’ll get over his ex soon. 

Seokjin hasn’t had a real ex, a real breakup, since sophomore year of college, when his long-distance girlfriend from high school told him she couldn’t bear to listen to him how much he loves his new best friend any longer. 

It doesn’t take a genius to guess who that best friend is. 

Seokjin’s always been sort of foolish, a little too forward at the best of times and terribly obvious at the worst of times. Always holding out hope that maybe one day you’ll pick up on all of his slip-ups, and he’ll stop acting like a bumbling idiot around you. 

Admittedly, he had gotten pretty fed-up by the time he invited you to dinner to celebrate your promotion. He rolled up to your office in a silk button down and a bouquet of the nicest flowers Hoseok could find, brought you to a restaurant you had been dying to go to ever since you moved to the city, and told you that you were the one constant in his life. And he thought that maybe, just maybe, you would realize. And he wouldn’t have to do everything by himself. 

It’s a wonder that you hadn’t figured it out. 

At least, not until you said goodbye to him, standing underneath the wooden door frame to your apartment, and he leaned down and kissed you. 

Seokjin is a man of few mistakes, but he’s almost positive that that one was the most costly. He had been psyching himself up in his head the entire ride home, telling himself I can do it, I’m gonna tell her, what’s the worst you could do? 

As it turns out, the worst you could do is reject him. 

Seokjin knows you don’t feel the same way. He doesn’t need to go on any dates, doesn’t need to read any more novels or watch any more movies to know that. Maybe you had known all along, you just never knew how to let him down easy. Maybe you were just hoping that if you never acknowledged it, it would go away, age like fine wine, bottled up for an eternity. 

But when he was standing in the flower shop, lingering behind the counter as Hoseok insisted he knew the perfect bouquet to make, there was a little spark in his heart that thought, maybe. Just maybe. 

“Think she’ll like it?” Seokjin had asked hesitantly, fingers curling around one of the petals of the lilies in the bouquet as Hoseok rang him up. 

“What do mean, of course she will!” Hoseok says. He has long been witness to Seokjin’s fruitless efforts to get you to see how he feels. “She’d be a fool not to realize.”

Seokjin’s never been sure if you were the fool, or if he has been, all along. 

“I don’t know, Hoseok,” he had said with a sigh, handing over his credit card. “I feel like telling her might be the wrong move.”

“Why? From what it sounds like, you two are really close,” Hoseok had asked innocently. He even shimmied in a tulip, squeezing it into the middle of the bouquet with nimble fingers. “Are you afraid she’ll say no?”

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin everything,” Seokjin had told him. He’d rather keep you close as a best friend than lose you entirely in the hopes of confessing. That has always been his priority. It always will be. 

Hoseok had laughed, disbelieving. Seokjin had bitterly assumed that he’s never been in love with a best friend. It sucks hard, but Seokjin was in no position to ruin Hoseok’s day by telling him that. “You won’t ruin everything, Jin. You’re a wonderful guy with a great personality. I think it’s worth telling her, you know?” Seokjin did not know. “Like, if you don’t, you’ll never know what could have been.”

And perhaps that was the reason that he leaned down to press his lips against yours. On the off chance, the miniscule possibility that you might feel the same way. His mother had been absolutely insistent that you were in love with him, and while he trusts his mother’s instincts, Seokjin’s known you much longer and much closer than she ever will. And you were never in love with him. Friends is all you have ever known with him. It’s all that the two of you will ever be. 

You’re lucky, Seokjin thinks as he sulks around in his apartment, having decided to give your relationship some space after he completely annihilated it the Tuesday prior. Unrequited love isn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemy. It’s a ray of sunshine surrounded by clouds. It’s the constant reminder that even though what you already have will never be enough, losing it entirely is a fate much worse. 

On the bright side, at least you still tag him in Facebook memes.

Seokjin gets a phone call from an unknown number that Saturday evening, as he cooks a meal for one and pretends that his apartment doesn’t feel bone-crushingly empty without you to fill up the space. He lets the phone ring all the way through the first time—he’s not in the mood to bait those scammy telemarketers tonight, and gets back to cooking. And then his phone rings a second time, same number, and suddenly Seokjin feels as though it might be something urgent. What if it’s a coworker whose number he doesn’t have? Oh God, what if it’s his boss?

“Hello?” Seokjin asks, picking up the call and holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder. 

“Seokjin?”

It’s Cynthia.

“Cynthia?” Seokjin asks, just to make sure he’s not wrong. “How did you get my number?”

“I looked you up on the White Pages,” Cynthia tells him. Oh, yes. He forgot that that existed. “I would have asked Y/N, but she would have gotten suspicious.”

“Oh, uh…” Seokjin hesitates, chuckling nervously. “Y/N? Have you, uh, spoken to her recently?”

Cynthia lets out a deep sigh on the other end, what sounds like a billion thoughts weighing her down. “Yeah, she and I had a girls’ night last night. My husband’s away on business.”

“Oh, how are you both doing?” Seokjin asks. He has the decency to pretend that he hasn’t been positively miserable the past few days.

“Wonderful, thanks,” Cynthia said. “Seokjin, did you kiss Y/N?”

“It was a mistake,” Seokjin immediately says. He shouldn’t have done it and now he’s paying the price. He has no idea how long it will take to repair your relationship, or, even worse, if you’ll just go back to the way it was before and pretend it never happened in the first place. “I wanted to tell her that, but I haven’t seen her recently.”

“Don’t,” Cynthia says harshly, making Seokjin jump a bit, wincing as some hot steam hits his bare skin. “Don’t tell her it was a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin frowns. Isn’t that what you want? It’s blatantly obvious that you don’t really want a relationship at all, let alone with him. Seokjin doesn’t know what he was thinking when he thought he could change your mind. He was just being selfish. The chance to get to date you under the guise of guidance, and he snatched it up at the first opportunity. 

Well, look at him now. 

“She’ll be heartbroken if you tell her that,” Cynthia tells him, and Seokjin nearly pours boiling hot water all over his arm at the words. “You can’t.”

“What do you mean, heartbroken? She doesn’t want to date me. I’m the one in love with her. I’m the one who should be suffering,” Seokjin says into the phone, his heart starting to race. He wills himself to calm down, to act like everything is normal, but he can’t stop thinking about you. About what Cynthia had said. 

“No, you’re wrong,” Cynthia says. “You couldn’t be more wrong even if you tried. You might be in love with her but she loves you back. She does, I swear.”

Seokjin’s brain nearly short-circuits, the power sparking. “What?” He asks, too hopeful for his own good. “She can’t. I’ve loved her for so long, but we’ve always just been friends. That’s what she wanted.”

“She wants you, Seokjin,” Cynthia says firmly, almost as if she’s reaching through the phone to knock some sense into him. “She didn’t realize that she loved you until you kissed her. And then everything fell into place.”

“You’re lying,” Seokjin says, even though he knows that Cynthia isn’t. 

“Want to know why she hasn’t really dated anyone since midway through college?”

Is it the same reason Seokjin hasn’t, either?

“She was waiting for you,” Cynthia tells you. “She just didn’t know it.”

Seokjin’s about to faint. 

He can hear Cynthia smiling through the phone. “She’s always been waiting for you.”)

[June 21st, 1:22PM]

Seokjin: I’m on my way over to your apartment Seokjin: Don’t ask questions

You’ve long learned by now to listen to Seokjin, to never question his methods. And for once, when you receive a suspicious text out of the blue that says Don’t ask questions, you aren’t scared. You’re thrilled. 

The last time you went this long without contacting each other was when you were just starting to become friends in college, during orientation week where you met five hundred people a day and forgot all of them by the next morning. You and Seokjin eventually caught up with each other when you started seeing each other in the halls of your dorm, living onto a few doors down from each other. 

You didn’t want to be the one to initiate contact. Seokjin had kissed you and then instantly looked like he regretted the entire thing. He had been sitting on his feelings long before you knew that yours even existed. He deserved the space. 

You, well. Cynthia, the wise, wedded woman she is, seems to think that communication is key. Perhaps that’s why she’s been so successful in her love life. 

There’s a knock on your door six minutes after you received the text, the fastest he’s ever gotten to your apartment. 

When you open it, you find a familiar sight: Seokjin, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and a nervous grin on his face, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet like a teenager about to ask his crush to the school dance. 

“Long time no see,” you tell him. 

“I missed you,” Seokjin says honestly. “I really, really did.”

“I did, too,” you tell him. It’s impossible to be away from him. You figured that out briefly when he went abroad in junior year, but were brutally reminded this past week what life is like without him to light it up. And it’s dull. Empty. Missing something. 

“These are for you,” Seokjin says. It’s an entire bouquet of tulips, red and yellow and orange and pink. The scent immediately wafts through the air, brightening up your sullen apartment. 

“They’re beautiful, Seokjin,” you tell him, pressing your nose against the petals as you take in the aroma. The flowers are gorgeous, but Seokjin, as always, steals the show. 

“I was going to bring takeout, but then I thought that you might have already eaten lunch,” Seokjin tells you. 

“Then we can do takeout for dinner,” you suggest as an alternative, fishing through your kitchen cabinets for a vase to put out on your countertop, filled with the tulips and carnations and lilies and hydrangeas. The bouquet he had given you on Tuesday is sitting in your bedroom, and you’re giving it all the plant food you can get your hands on, determined to make them last. 

“You want me to stay for dinner?” Seokjin asks, an eyebrow raised. 

It’s high time you were honest, too. 

“I want you to stay forever,” you admit, and it feels as though the dam has broken, like the first droplet has been spilled and the rest is soon to follow. “I can’t tell you how much I hated being away from you like this. Everything in my life revolves around you.”

“I think about you, every day,” Seokjin says as he comes up to you, joining you in the kitchen as you fill an oversized mason jar with water. “Scratch that. Every hour. Every minute, every second. You’re always on my mind.”

“I thought that was just how you were best friends with someone,” you tell him, feeling the warmth of his body as he stands next to you. “I thought that all of the kind gestures, the traditions, the words, that was what being best friends was. And it is. But I never realized that that was what being in love was like, as well.”

“I thought you’d never figure it out,” Seokjin muses, and it sounds so sad but he looks so happy. “I was ready to never tell you. I was too nervous, every time I’m near you I get all sweaty.”

“You were just going to be in love with me forever?” You ask, turning to him. The thought devastates you, the idea that he was willing to never tell you, to love you silently, for the rest of time. He would have never known what could have been, would have never allowed himself that luxury. And he was okay with it.

“I would rather love you on my own than lose you,” Seokjin tells you firmly. “You’re my best friend. That will never change.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Seokjin interrupts. “I had made that decision. I was willing to live with it.”

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?” You ask, reaching out to hold his hand in your own, as you have done so many times before, and will do so many times more. The feeling never gets old. The spark never fades. “When they’re in love.”

“I don’t know how you never noticed,” Seokjin jokes, laughing more at himself than you. “I thought I was being so goddamn obvious. Any time I said or did anything that even slightly alluded to the fact that I was in love with you, I started panicking because I thought you’d figure me out. And you never did.”

“I think I just needed a bit of coaxing,” you tell him, hand reaching up to turn his face towards you, palms resting on your cheek. “I would have loved you, forever. I just needed you to tell me that you’d love me, forever, too.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Seokjin promises with a grin. “I’ll love you forever and a day.”

Seokjin leans down, big palms resting on your waist as he finally, fucking finally, presses his lips against yours. It’s soft and warm and cozy, the heat enveloping you as you hold his cheeks in your hands, let him push closer and closer, refusing to let you go. The feeling sends warmth through your veins, sparks a fire in your body that you wouldn’t will away even if you wanted to. Seokjin kisses you, and you kiss back, and it feels like a promise. With your lips against his, and his against yours, you tell each other, that you were meant to be together, and that you always will be. 

You had always wondered why you were never really interested in dating anyone. Never wanted to find someone new, a relationship filled with love and laughter and joy, never wanted to go out on fancy dates and tiptoe around each other, a nervous confession on the tips of your tongues. But now, as Seokjin giggles into another kiss he presses against your lips, you know: you already had exactly what you were looking for. 

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

↳ check out the post-script drabble here!

[supervillain-smut]

Hello there! May I request a SFW ABC list for our lovely purple gremlin Weyoun? (I wont fuss if some nsfw finds its way in there, but I suspect not everyone can be so horny for that goblin)

Here you are! One soft gremlin Vorta! Under the cut because I went off lol.

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?) Well, seeing as Vorta don't have aesthetics, your personality, kindness and loyalty are what he really likes about you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?) No matter how you view Vorta biology... No. No he does not, not because of any particular reason, he just doesn't see a reason or have a need for children. Plus I imagine it would freak him out considering Vorta are cloned. (He wants you all to himself).

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?) Help. He's everywhere. If he has a tail, he'll wrap it around whatever he can. He clings to you for dear life, he needs some part of him touching a part of you. If you don't want him climbing on you, don't lay down around him. Constantly invites himself to cuddle with you. He's so touch starved and loves cuddling, he's like a big dog that forgot they're not a puppy anymore.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?) He wants to explore everything! History museums, animal sanctuaries, oh wait until he finds out about dinosaurs, and reenactments, and festivals!

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)) Life. He feels like he didn't have one before he met you, just a tool to be used and disposed when it wasn't working right.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?) Simply by being you, being kind to him, talking to him, simple things, but most of all when you can discuss the Dominion and the Founders without getting into an argument or putting down his beliefs. He's perfectly fine with agreeing to disagree, unlike most Vorta.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?) Weyoun is gentle in quite literally everything he does, he just has those hands, but when he's with you, it's obvious. He's so tentative and careful, you barely notice he has his hands on you sometimes.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?) All. The. Time. If you let him, he will. He holds your hand while you walk, when he's nervous, no matter what he's always reaching for you. If you don't want him to at the moment, he'll pout but he'll listen, though you may catch his hand occasionally wandering or opening and closing when he reminds himself you'd like some space.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?) Just another human angry at him after the war, blind to the mistreatment and the sort of pressure they're under when given orders.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?) Absolutely, but the quiet fuming kind. He'll sit patiently, staring down the offender, and will only step in if you look uncomfortable or it gets rough. Other than that, he observes silently watching your reactions and the others' too. How soon do you come back to him, how soon do you tell them to back off. He'll wait and see. It abates as soon as you're back with him, and nothing happened.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?) Weyoun, being the sly Vorta he is, kisses you first while you're flustered from him telling you he loves you.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?) He tells you, completely unashamed, that he loves you. While you're trying to find the words, he can see your response in your eyes, and kisses you.

M = Memory (What’s their favorite memory together?) All of them, literally. He has a fantastic memory and loves making in-jokes out of small things, barely noticeable to anyone else, he remembers the first time he saw you, met you, every step of the way to current day he remembers and thinks back very fondly. But what he holds onto is how it felt. Vorta being clones and all.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) He's a collector himself, so if you've mentioned something you like or are a fan of, it's partially his interest and wanting to see you happy that compels him to buy things for you. Personally he's not a very materialistic person, just curious. He's an average spoiler, if you mention it, he'll make it happen, if you don't, your birthday and holidays are when he gets things for you.

O = Orange (What color reminds them of their other half?) Whatever color you're wearing that day, he suddenly sees it everywhere. If you're wearing anything orange, it's all that catches his eye, etc.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?) He doesn't really use pet names, he much prefers your name, it's more in the way he says it that translates his meaning. He's all about tone and mood. Give him a pet name however, especially if it's in Dominionese, and he absolutely melts. It sends a shiver up his spine, among other things.

Q = Quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing?) I know I've been using everything as an answer frequently, but this time I really do mean, quite literally, anything. Anything that isn't being used on the station, or flat out not being used at all on earth, he is absolutely fascinated with, his eyes go big with wonder and curiosity, and he ponders over it all day long. If you actually manage to get something physical, he tears it apart and puts it back together until he can do it with his eyes closed.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?) It's very noisy, so staying inside, indefinitely. If it's just spitting you can coax him out, but if it's absolutely pouring, no way. He curls up under and undeterminable number of blankets, and thunderstorms are the worst. He hates it.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?) He's used to self-soothing, so when you comfort him it's foreign, he doesn't quite know how to open up. When you're upset, he tries the things you do for him; talking softly, distracting, asking what the issue is, offering food, and sometimes just sitting on the ground and cuddling and kissing all over your face.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?) Anything and everything, human, Vorta, Vulcan, Andorian, doesn't matter. It's mostly politics or culture, but honestly no topic is safe, but please tell him if he's talking too much or you'd like silence, once he gets going physical cues are useless.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?) Curling up in a dark, quiet room under tons of blankets, fiddling with whatever new thing he's found. Or, you know, curling up with you and reading a book.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?) His collection and knowledge! He's like a kid that lists off everything they know about their special interest, except his special interest is humans. Feedback and new knowledge are very much appreciated, and please acknowledge how much he knows. He loves it so much.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?) He doesn't, simply because no matter how hard he tries, he still thinks there will be a replacement of him if anything happens. How can you say you're with him until death do you part if he never truly dies? Would you reject the next clone, with all the same memories? How would you cope? He can't hold you to that sort of thing. It's a technicality he can't see past.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?) Uhm... He doesn't really get music? He enjoys it and all, it's nice background ambiance, he likes classical because it's calming, but he can't really tell which song it is or who it's by, it's all so random to him. He doesn't know the name, but you do; his favorite is Le Carnaval Des Animaux, 13, Le Cygne by Camille Saint-Saëns.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?) He doesn't think of getting married, but he does think of how you might react if he proposed. He's confident you'd say yes.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?) Anything in a terrarium. Geckos, snakes, bearded dragons, fish from Oscars, piranhas, to betas and angelfish, all properly cared for, as well as some larger insects and arachnids like praying mantis, atlas beetles, tarantulas, scorpions, you name it. Obviously properly taken care of to the letter, and not before consulting you. Don't be surprised if he shows up with a crested gecko just a week after he's gotten a leopard gecko.

[bitchybutcher]

Texts I sent a friend the first time I watched The Boys, Season 2:

-        Gird your loins

-        I’m dying to know more about Black Noir

-        Ugh ffs Homelander smarming about on stage at Translucents funeral

-        It’s an empty box but I suppose how would people know cause invisible corpse

-        WHY IS ANNIE SINGING AT THE INVISIBLE PERVS FUNERAL

-        Aw no straight in with Sad Kevin

-        Oh ok angry drunk Kevin

-        Ugh not these Samaritans Embrace fuckers again

-        Oh Annie. Parroting the company line. I hope she’s gonna fuck them all over

-        SAD HUGHIE OH NO

-        BILLY JOOOOOELLLL

-        Aw Kimiko is learning

-        Her lil smile

-        Oooh Hughie is a liiiiiar

-        Meeting on the subway like a couple shifty teenagers

-        Oh I forgot they microchipped the supes like dogs

-        Oh nooooo young love angst

-        Oh no a Sad Kevin incident

-        Aaaaand he’s been arrested

-        A nice archer bailed him out

-        Omfg the fake Butcher re-enactment

-        Oh do NOT tell me this crazy bastard is gonna drink the frozen breast milk

-        Oh fuck he is

-        What the FUCK, HOMELANDER

-        This visually impaired ninja seems nice

-        That probably means he’s gonna turn out to be a dick

-        OH FUCK

-        Homelander what the fuuuuuck

-        Ok what the shit is happening here in the motel

-        WHAT

-        What the fuuuuuck

-        I – MM is making a dolls house? That’s so cute

-        Oh shit smuggled people

-        Homelander is nuts with power

-        Uhhhh who is Carol and why is she staring at Kevin while he sleeps

-        Finally an archer who is honest about how useless they can be once they run out of arrows

-        Oh noooo are they gonna try brainwash Kevin with homeopathic stuff? And why do they keep offering him Fresca

-        OH FUCK ME NOT ANOTHER RELIGION THING

-        Oh Hughie has grown a pair since last season. Good for him

-        Where’s Butcherrrrrrrr

-        Body gore porn dude is called Gecko that’s too cute a name for him

-        Stormfront seems like fun

-        She’s gonna be pissing off Homelander so much I like her already

-        OH WHAT THE FUCK THE CIA LADYS HEAD EXPLODED

-        I like Stan

-        Giving Homelander the dressing down he needs

-        I know it’s convenient for Toni to wear the padded suit all the time but does Homelander ever wear anything else

-        Oh hiiii Becca I still think you’re a bitch and Butcher deserved better

-        BUTCHERRRRR YASSSSS

-        “Daddy’s home”

-        I’m dead. It’s official.

-        The fuckin smirk and the voice I’m fuckin dead

-        OH NO KEVIN IS TRYING THE CHURCH THING

-        Is he making shroom tea

-        Why is Patton Oswalt voicing Kevin’s gills this is delightful

-        Atrain is awake again that’s not good

-        I’m cracking up at Sad Kevin and his singing gills

-        Homelander is gone way off the deep end oh boy

-        Awwww soft Maeve in the hospital with her girlfriend

-        I want to like Becca but I can’t shake the bad feeling

-        Homelander is a terrible father

-        I mean I know he has no role models to base his parenting on, but yikes

-        It’s like if Scar was raising Simba instead of Mufasa

-        ….are the gang raiding a party city store

-        I love how Frenchie always looks a mix of horrified and amazed whenever Kimiko kills someone

-        AWWW IT’S HER BROTHER YAY

-        Oh shiiiiiiiit

-        Butcher STOP JUST SHOOTING PEOPLE

-        You were right this season is weird

-        I like Kimiko’s brothers bedazzled denim jacket

-        Butcher don’t punch Hughie wtf

-        Starting with Hughie listening to the same song again, nice

-        Butcher is terrible at apologising it’s so cute

-        I’m sorry did Hughie just fall over trying to throw a punch

-        The kid’s a dandelion omg

-        Why are they on a boat? Did Karl just decide “I like being on boats lemme go on a boat”?

-        I see what you mean about Homelander being scary

-        He’s completely insane

-        Why does this storyboard guys shirt say assbinder

-        Chace Crawford is an excessively veiny man

-        BLACK NOIR IS CRYING

-        Or possibly laughing

-        Hard to tell when they have no face

-        Annie actually leaked all the compound V stuff good for her

-        FRENCHIE KISSED HUGHIE

-        Homelander is gonna get this kid killed tryna make him fly

-        Honestly the kid looks more like Hughie

-        OH MY GOD HE PUSHED HIM OFF THE ROOF

-        OH MY SWEET FUCKING JESUS HOMELANDER YOU CAN’T DO THAT

-        Oop there’s the laser eyes

-        Oh Homelander is back at the Tower and freaking Maeve out

-        OH FUCK THE BROTHER IS LOOSE

-        Hughie don’t do it

-        Oh ok I thought he was gonna jump off the boat

-        Kevin and the cult weirdos are up to something

-        Hughie no you don’t call the girl you like crying over Billy Joel lyrics

-        Oh god boyo you don’t then drop the L word in the same voice message!

-        He’s hopeless

-        Oh nooooo Kevin is attacking the boat goddammit Kevin

-        OH FUCK A WHALE

-        For fuck sake Kevin

-        Ewwwww

-        Butcher what the fuck

-        Hughie having a nervous breakdown inside of a whale

-        No but why is Karl so hot covered in blood

-        Actually I didn’t even need to include the blood part of that question

-        Oh boy here we go, the 7 show up to find Sad Kevin crying over spilt whale

-        ….why is Stormfront tryna get all up in Homelander’s ass?? I thought she was cool but now she’s all lemme suck that radioactive dick

-        OH NO

-        Poor Kevin he’s worked so hard to accept his gills and now Homelander has knocked him back down

-        Oooo dear Atrain is having a heart attack again this isn’t good

-        Oh fuck is Hughie gon get caught

-        Oh no it’s Annie it’s ok

-        OH FUCK

-        ANNIE WHY

-        THAT’S YOUR HUGHIE

-        OH MAN KIMIKO’S BROTHER IS BADASS YES SQUASH THE SMUG PRICK

-        Oh I do NOT like Stormfront holy fuckin shit what’s wrong with this woman

-        Poor Kimiko

-        What’s with the random woman talking about calling off her wedding?

-        Why is Frenchie taking drugs

-        FUCK SAKE FRENCHIE DON’T TRY KISS A GIRL WHEN SHE’S GRIEVING

-        What the FUCK is thiiiiis

-        Is he dreaming or is this the shapeshifter tryna stay alive by granting Homelander some sick wish

-        Yikes I feel bad for Doppelganger

-        I am fascinated by whoever and whatever the fuck Black Noir is

-        MM sees right through everyone’s bullshit

-        I feel so bad for Annie

-        Ooooo Atrain getting fired

-        MM having to put up with Hughie and Annie having a we didn’t start the fire singalong 😂

-        Ok who’s in the weird group therapy sesh with these women with strange views on love

-        Vending machine date so cute

-        Omfg ahahahaha the girl with the Ed Sheeran tattoo

-        I really want to like Becca cause she stands up to Homelander but I can’t shake the suspicions about her

-        I feel bad for Butcher

-        Homelander is a scary good liar

-        Oh shit interviewer lady is pulling out the diversity questions

-        OH FUCK

-        HE’S OUTED MAEVE

-        Poor Maeve what the fuck

-        Ugh Stormfront

-        Shut your racist hole bitch

-        Oh shit Kimiko on the warpath

-        Frenchie! Kimiko listen to him he’s tryna help

-        MM is doing a lotta sharing this episode

-        Ohhhh something bad is gonna come out about this Liberty lady they’re looking for oh fuck

-        Wait WHAT. STORMFRONT IS LIBERTY

-        Stormfront is like 70????

-        She’s really good with social media for an old bird

-        Ohhh fuck Homelander is pisssssssssed

-        Christ you’d know Homelander was an only child

-        Bitch you better not be fucking Butcher over

-        I FUCKIN KNEW IT

-        BECCA YOU RAGING BITCH

-        Got her goodbye fuck then called the supercops on him cause he’s a little broken? FUCK BECCA

-        Oh no Annie don’t give Hughie the “we can’t do this” talk

-        Pick your emo ass up and stop being melodramatic

-        All these women are chatting to Kevin?? Why??

-        Also this most recent one is super weird

-        THEY WERE INTERVIEWING TO BE KEVINS WIFE

-        This cult thing is so fuckin weird omfg

-        KEVIN GET YOUR SAD BUTT OUT OF THE CULT

-        Oh gross not the Doppelganger shit again

-        Doppelganger is really bad at flirting

-        ….

-        WHAT THE SHIT

-        Nonononono don’t do the selfcest

-        Not even Homelander is that fucked up

-        This is super weird

-        Why is Homelander crying

-        OH SHIT HE KILLED HIM

-        Uhhhh are they doing a lesbian scene in a vcu movie

-        Christ that was terrible and way too on the nose

-        “Strong female lesbians”

-        Homelander you himbo fuck what other kind of lesbian do you get

-        I feel bad for Ashley

-        She just wants to do her job well

-        Poor Butcher. His lil heart is broken

-        Oh no baby you’re hurt and upset? That’s so sad let me suck your dick about it

-        Oh no what’s he gonna do

-        BUTCHER WHAT THE SHIT

-        I mean it’s really fuckin hot but still

-        There’s always a cut on the cheekbone

-        “They’ve been moving her around like a Catholic priest” omg HUGHIE

-        Aww he called Hughie his canary

-        Oh shit are Frenchie and Kimiko missing?

-        KEVIN GOT MARRIED

-        BILLY HAS AN AUNTIE

-        Doggiiiiie

-        Awwwww soft Butcher with his dog

-        Aaaand now I feel bad for Atrain cause he’s being kicked to the curb

-        Oh gross this interview with Kevin and his cult wife

-        This is so cringe holy fuck

-        Bring back the Patton Oswalt gills

-        Why are the gangsters discussing musicals specifically Hamilton

-        FUCKING HELL KIMIKO PEELED OFF THAT GUYS FACE

-        Ahahaha the boys showed up at Butchers aunties house

-        The dog’s name is Terror that’s so cute

-        Hahahaha Hughie was holding the fuck pig

-        Why is there a sniper on the roof

-        Oh shit it’s Black Noir

-        Ugh what does Annie’s mom want and why is Stormfront being her friend

-        Oh hey it’s dickless

-        These two writer dudes are hella irritating

-        Poor Elena getting dragged into this shit

-        Yes Maeve scheme against his ass

-        Heartbroken Butcher is so tired

-        He needs a hug

-        Hughie give Butcher a hug please

-        Why is Kimiko in a church

-        Oh hey its Frenchie’s other girlfriend

-        Oh ok Kimiko is doing hits that’s fair

-        The old man just looking away like “I do not see it”

-        Aw no Frenchie don’t break up with Kimiko

-        Oh fuck off Cult Kevin

-        Stormfront again?????

-        Does this bitch ever fuck off

-        DID SHE JUST CALL ATRAIN GARBAGE

-        Wait why is Homelander giving an unapproved speech

-        This is gonna end in someone getting murdered isn’t it

-        OH FUCK

-        That’s a lot more murder than I expected

-        Ohhhh phew ok he was just daydreaming

-        Ashley is gonna go bald from stress

-        I adore grumpy Butcher

-        Omg auntie Judy is a drug dealer I love her

-        Ohhhh shit Homelander is having a nervous breakdown

-        BOBBY FROM X-MEN????

-        Uhhhh why is Homelander talking to Stormfront this can’t be good

-        Ooh MM set a trap this gon be good

-        BUTCHER HAS A BROTHER???? THAT HUGHIE IS LIKE

-        Oop Lenny is dead

-        The random explosions as Black Noir trips the traps

-        Oh shit Butcher locked the others out to face Black Noir alone

-        YES MM

-        OH NO MM

-        YES HUGHIE

-        Oh fuck did he KO Butcher

-        Shiiiit shit shit shit

-        Yes Butcher save your Hughie

-        Oh good they all survived

-        For fuck sake Kevin stop with the cult shit

-        Maeve please save Kevin from the cult

-        Annie why are you sneaking around don’t do it

-        There’s a lot of shots of Annie’s bum

-        What the fuck is Sage Grove

-        Stormfront needs to go choke on a bag of dicks

-        Oh fuck no not Homelander again

-        Uhhhhhhh

-        Stormfront x Homelander was not what I was expecting

-        These two have the WEIRDEST relationship

-        They’re gonna do some really fucked up supe bdsm shit aren’t they

-        Frenchie is Betty White. Fair enough

-        Wait what is happening. Why is Annie letting Frenchie at her with a lil saw

-        Ohhh the chip

-        “This might sting a little” FRENCHIE IT’S A FUCKIN SAW

-        Oh fuck that’s a big chip

-        Oh look it’s loves psychotic dream

-        Well that’s suitably gross

-        Aww Kimiko hugging Annie

-        Butcher is so menacing I love him

-        Kevin tryna be helpful to his buddies he’s so cute

-        NO! NO BAD KEVIN! STOP TRYING TO MAKE PEOPLE JOIN YOUR CULT

-        Kimiko with her brass knuckle

-        Oh man, flowers??? Homelander has it BAD

-        Annie back the fuck off and leave Butcher alone

-        OH SHIT IT’S STORMFRONT AT THE HOSPITAL NOOOO

-        What the fuck is going on at this hospital

-        OH FUCK BOBBY FROM X-MEN IS LAMPLIGHTER

-        Oh shit who got let out

-        What does Cindy do

-        OH SHIT SHE’S THE HEAD BURSTER

-        Aaaaaaand now they’re all out

-        Good job, guys

-        Ewwwwww acid vomit

-        OH NO HUGHIE

-        Are you kidding me?? Annie can’t go all Starlight unless there’s a power source in the immediate vicinity??

-        What kinda fuckin shite superpower is that

-        Aha Butcher agrees with me

-        Ok so I’m guessing Homelander went berserk on set

-        Uhhhh apparently Cult Lunch is a therapy sesh?

-        Atrain get outta there

-        This cult leader guy is an arsehole

-        Hospital escape lookin like a horror survival game

-        Awwww flashbacks to happy times

-        Omfg Butcher with the slicked back hair

-        Welp, Annie just killed a guy

-        Oh shit a baby seat

-        Annie is gonna have a bad case of the guilts now

-        Oh fuck ok Lamplighter killed the kids by accident

-        So Frenchie went to save his friend instead of tailing

-        Oh god that’s the penis isn’t it

-        Stormfront to the…rescue? Maybe? She’s gonna kill Lamplighter isn’t she

-        Oh, no ok she didn’t kill him

-        Aw no sad Butcher cause Hughie’s hurt

-        Oh nooooo Elena found a video from the plane

-        Mallory gon kill sad Lamplighter?

-        Stormfront is coming clean to Homelander? Whaaaa

-        She was buddies with the Nazis??? SHE WAS MARRIED TO THE VOUGHT FOUNDER GUY

-        Oh fuck the head burster is still alive

-        A montage of how Stormfront is brainwashing people into racist attacks, nice

-        I hate Annie’s mom so much

-        Black Noir has just fuckin LAMPED Annie

-        Butchers mum called him 😂😂

-        Oh shit his dad died

-        Why are Hughie and Lamplighter watching knock off supe porn

-        Oh boy a racist rally

-        Homelander just threw Annie under the bus

-        Hughie that’s a really weird pep talk

-        And he’s gonna get Lamplighter killed

-        BUTCHERS MUM IS ADORABLE

-        Oh shit it’s Denethor

-        And he’s not dead

-        Oh fuck he’s why Lenny died?

-        Shit Lenny shot himself

-        Butcher was SAS???

-        WHERE ARE MY PICS OF BUTCHER IN HIS ARMY UNIFORM

-        Ah fuck he’s bringing stepmommy Stormfront to meet the kid

-        I have an urge to run my fingers through Butchers beard

-        Frenchie and Kimiko are too cute she’s teaching him her sign language

-        Is this a cult birthday party?

-        Poor Eagle the Archer. He pissed off the cult so he’s gon be excommunicated

-        Uhhhh kiddo made a Lego film?

-        Good for him

-        I know it shouldn’t be sexy when Butcher starts threatening to brutally murder people in his growly voice, I know, but hear me out: sexy growly voice

-        11/10 would let Karl Urban murder me

-        Oh FUCK Lamplighter killed himself

-        Poor Hughie

-        Why do all the bad things happen to him, like having to saw off a dead guy’s hand with a broken whiskey decanter

-        Annie versus Black Noir, beat his/her ass girl!

-        HUGHIE COME SAVE YOUR ANNIE

-        YAY MAEVE

-        Black Noir has an almond allergy that’s such an off the wall weakness

-        Annie’s favourite chocolate bar saved her life

-        Well Maeve did, technically. But still

-        Omg Hughie accidentally saving Annie’s mom

-        Hughie and Annie are too cute

-        Oh shiiiiit Homelander screwed the pooch and showed the kid everything

-        HAHA SUCK IT BECCA

-        OH SHIT HEADS ARE BURSTING ALL OVER THE PLACE

-        Butcher in his lil jumper

-        For a non-American, this school safety psa video is supremely weird

-        BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURALS CHARACTER IS CALLED BOB

-        BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURALS CHARACTER IS JUST BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURAL BUT FANCY

-        Annie’s mom critiquing her choice in boyfriends while in mortal danger is gas

-        And typical

-        The lads going nuts with weapons they’re so happy look at them

-        And Butcher in his lil jumper again he looks so comfy

-        I would very much like to cuddle him in the soft jumper and give him beard scritches

-        Annie ffs let Hughie enjoy his Billy Joel, that’s a good choice

-        Ahahaha Maeve just called Hughie a twink

-        She’s not wrong

-        Oh fuck off Becca

-        Uuuuugh OF COURSE Mr Edgar is in with the cult

-        Oop Atrain overheard all of that

-        Poor Ashley she’s going bald from stress

-        The kid is gonna have a meltdown

-        Poor Hughie with his mom leaving

-        I wonder if she’ll pop up at some point and turn out to be a supe that would be fun

-        ATRAIN YOU CAN’T JUST APPEAR IN A CAR LIKE THAT YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEONE

-        Hold the phone is Homelander actually being a good dad for a minute

-        What the actual fuck is Stormfront on with this white genocide shit

-        Ahahaha the news broke

-        Uh oh the Vought soldiers got caught by Homelander

-        OH SHIT

-        MM BETTER BE OK

-        Becca fuckin constantly squawking about Ryan is so annoying

-        WHY IS KIMIKO LAUGHING

-        It’s adorable but still

-        Oh FUCK she snapped her neck

-        She’ll be fine

-        She’s like a wolverine, snapped neck won’t keep her down

-        AYYYYY MAEVE

-        The lads just watching them kicking the shit out of her like uhhh

-        Oh hey Becca did something useful and stabbed the Nazi in the eye

-        Huh. The kid melted Stormfront

-        Good for him

-        AHAHAHA YES HE GOT BECCA TOO

-        BYEEEEE FELICIAAAAA

-        I mean yeah, heartbroken sad Butcher isn’t nice to see, but Becca sucked

-        Aaaand now Homelander covered in blood has arrived to listen to Stormfront babble in German

-        This is like in those scenes where it’s like oh who will the dog go to

-        Ayyy Atrain got back into the 7

-        Aww poor Kevin getting rejected again

-        See Kevin this is why we don’t join cults

-        Annie thought he was breaking up with her, girl don’t be daft

-        Butcher and the kid, not awkward at all

-        The one lesson Butcher can teach a kid – “don’t be a cunt”

-        Aww happy endings for all the boys

-        Aaaaand a “happy ending” for Homelander too by the looks of it

-        Oh ffs a corrupt politician in with the cult, what a surprise

-        HIS HEAD BURST

-        Wait the politician lady is the head burster? I’m so confused

-        Confusion may have been aided by it being almost 3am

-        Hughie getting a real job, bless him

-        Too bad it’s with the head burster

-        Oh this is such a good song to end the season with

-        Welp, now begins the long wait for season 3, I guess

-        Should I sleep or find fic to read

-        Body says sleep, heart says fic

-        That’s a lie, heart says Butcher

-        ….Butcher fics it is

[cdfreak]

deaf signing girl, jeans, cactus, soup, basketball, train, broom, teddy bear, pride flag, virgo, cherries + dynamite for all of them lol

🧏‍♀️ DEAF SIGNING GIRL - do they have any disabilities? (if so) what are they?

MARA: yes <3 girlie has sooo much ptsd and autism. she doesn't have any physical disabilities aside from like the general chronic pain issues that living in a nuclear wasteland brings, although some nerves in her face are damaged and she deals with some minor facial paralysis

RED: also ptsd and autism #slay she also has psychosis although it kind of varies in severity, it's pretty low level and doesnt affect her life a ton for the most part but she will kind of occasionally slip into periods of debilitating paranoid delusions with hallucinations sprinkled in for extra flavor. its initially caused by all the trauma but her little months-long drug bender during fnv definitely uhh made that worse lol. her hearings also impaired later in life (gradually gets worse the longer shes been living in the wasteland)

NIX: another autistic girlie omg <3 as for physical disabilities i am not sure!! i have been thinking about making her chronically ill but i have yet to settle on if she is/if so which specific illness

👖 JEANS - what is their most iconic outfit?

MARA: i think her most instantly recognizable outfit like to other wastelanders is the minutemen general uniform but i like her retiree outfit which is a pink plaid button up and some grey slacks

RED: the merc veteran outfit OH OR the tunnel snakes jacket!!!

NIX: not a full outfit ig but DEFINITELY her gecko skin jacket

🌵 CACTUS - what is a sore subject for them?

MARA: her exes tbh ... talking about cait has been unofficially banned by nick for everyones sake. also she hates talking about her husband outside of like. opening up about trauma associated with him/her old life. but he doesnt come up as much because he fawking died before anyone could meet him lol whereas cait was like in the besties companion group before the breakup

RED: her dad oh my god. pretty much anything about the vault tbh she is coping by pretending none of it exists and ignoring it

NIX: theres no sore subjects for her really like. she will get sad talking about bad things that happened to her obviously but she never gets angry at people for bringing something up and she tries her best to stay positive - like if the bighorners come up in conversation shell try and talk about like things they taught her or good times she had with them instead of getting upset thinking about howthey umm Died

🍲 SOUP - do they like to cook? are they good at it?

MARA: she LOVES cooking omg. that post thats like fallout 4 shouldve let the sole survivor make all those weird gross 50's foods she does that 100%. she is good at it too!! she has her little besties group over for dinner every week and she cooks almost every time :)

RED: red doesnt really like cooking for the most part BUT she is so good at grilling meat or veggies over a fire. autism be damned my kid can work a grill

NIX: nix is so fucking good at cooking but ONLY on a campfire. if you tried to teach her how to use an oven or a stove she would start crying. she loves making weird meals out of random parts of animals and plants!! it doesnt always come out great but she gets so excited thinking up new recipes<3 arcade is so scared about it hes like someday you are going to suck the venom out of a radscorpion venom gland and die and shes like ok sunburn boy

🏀 BASKETBALL - do they know any pre-war sports? do they like to play any?

MARA: mara never played sports but she liked to watch baseball and hockey sometimes!!

RED: red is #1 baseball fan of ever she loved playing it in vault 101 she was so good at batting. she sucked at like every other part of it though lol

NIX: nix does not know what a sport is and the concept confuses her. "how is that different from a game?? why does it get a different name thats dumb"

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

MARA: mara would kill the one person to save the 5 but she would get so like fucked up about it. every night when she closes her eyes she sees the face of that one person as the trolley grows closer and closer. she falls back into alcoholism

RED: red would walk away from the lever. "thats none of my business i dont even know these people"

NIX: nix would somehow like reprogram the trolley in those 15 seconds before it runs a bunch of people over and save everyone involved because shes a genius

🧹 BROOM - how clean or messy are they usually? do their cleaning habits (or the opposite) annoy the people around them?

MARA: mara is very messy and clumsy but she does her best to like clean up after herself after shes done doing whatever she was doing

RED: red is kind of a slob tbh. when she was a kid she would have to get like all her comics taken away and banned from hanging out with amata and cyan or playing baseball to be motivated to clean up her room

NIX: nix is neat but only because like. the way she was raised 1) she never really had a ton of stuff in the first place? so it was hard to be messy when there wasnt a ton of stuff to make a mess with. 2) her family was nomadic so there wasnt a lot of time to make a mess wherever she was, and if she did make a mess around camp she always helped clean it up before they packed up and moved again because a lot of emphasis was placed on not messing up the land and leaving it how they found it (this was partially for safety reasons as they were pretty much constantly being tracked by bounty hunters or the ncr, and partially just because respect for the environment was important to the bighorners) and 3) not wasting supplies was important, wastefulness was frowned upon and supplies were never really in great abundance so every time you cooked or sewed or tinkered or anything you took those scraps and turned them into something else useful instead of just tossing them aside

🧸 TEDDY BEAR - what are their thoughts on children? do they have any / would they ever have any and home many?

MARA: mara LOVES kids so much, she used to be a middle + elementary school art teacher before the war and she was so excited about having shaun. she brought synth shaun with her when she left the institute, and she is raising him with her wife (curie). i think one kid is more than enough for her right now when shes still dealing with a bunch of minutemen and railroad responsibilities but once she retired if there were like orphans that needed adopting she would 100% be down to have more kids!! she is not getting pregnant ever again though. she didnt even really want to when she had shaun before the war, and the idea of being pregnant in the wasteland is a million times less appealing

RED: red loves kids she thinks theyre so funny and cute and she is like uncharacteristically kind to them compared to adults. i dont think shed be a good parent though lol and she knows that so while i think when shes older shed love to be like an aunt or something she does not want to have kids of her own. she kind of does anyway though um LOL in my fo4 playthrough i know 100% she would never leave synth shaun behind to die so she brings him to sanctuary and asks jun and marcy to look after him but he still like is programmed to believe shes his mother so she visits and hangs out with him whenever she can. i think she likes him even if being called mom is soooo uncomfortable 2 her

NIX: nix thinks kids are cooler than adults <3 but its definitely hard for her to make friends her age since shes like #weird :( she has not thought much about having kids

🏳️‍🌈 PRIDE FLAG - what is their sexuality?

breaking format for this but mara + red are both lesbians and nix umm idk she hasnt really thought about it

♍️ VIRGO - what is their zodiac?

breaking format again oops but red is the only one with a canon birthday (july 13, so shes a cancer) lol idk enough abt astrology to assign mara and nix zodiacs

🍒 CHERRIES - a random sweet headcanon.

MARA: i think mara and the vault tec rep guy have little lunches when shes in sanctuary!! they are friends :)

RED: she lets bittercup give her a little makeover one time and i think it sparks a love for nail polish <33

NIX: stories from arcade, the medical supplies shes donated & help shes offered, and just her generally likeable personality have all made nix really well-liked around the old mormon fort and at least one of the Followers always has some sort of little present for her when she comes around to visit

🧨 DYNAMITE - a random angsty headcanon.

MARA: most of mara's family is essentially immortal, and its hard for her to deal with. her son, her wife, and two of her closest friends will all stay the same as she ages and eventually dies and it scares her

RED: red finds it really hard to work with robotics after the events of fallout 3. tinkering with machinery and robots was a favorite hobby of hers, one of the first things about the wasteland that she truly enjoyed and that let her start to let go of her vault life and accept living in the wasteland, but her tremor makes the more delicate work almost impossible and some of the tech is just too reminiscent of the enclave for her

NIX: even by the end of fnv nix still doesnt remember her family in its entirety, although by this point she knows she has amnesia and she knows there are several people who were in her life but she cant remember. she feels really guilty about it, thinks if she really had cared about them then she'd remember

[sleepysailorghost]

Buddy ol'pal

(Inspired by this post by @bigmoodquotes )

Benny had been planning something. Antietam could tell that much. It wasn't a random attack, not part of an 18-carat run of bad luck. It would have been easier if it had.

No, whatever Benny had done, it was signifcant.

Antietam just hadn't known what that was. That's part of why they had avoided tracking him down for so long. Not until they knew what their adversary was up to.

That had been the plan.

Antietam hadn't stuck to it well. Ever since they had entered the Strip for the first time, they had felt Mr. House's gaze on them.

So they hatched a plan. A stupid, foolish plan. The type that they couldn't even tell Arcade or Boone about because of how stupid it was.

Clad in an prewar pinstripe suit, a silenced .22 pistol pressed against their ribs, (another handgun and a rifle on their back so they'd have something to hand over at the counter) they left the Wrangler. It felt weird to leave alone.

They didn't like to think about what had actually gone down in the Tops. It hurt to think about, but their mind often slipped back to it during the long walks through the Mojave.

It was after the man in the checkered suit-Benny, they thought-had rejected them and left that things changed. Here they had been, a sobbing mess on the casino floor, and a hand had appeared at their shoulder.

The Courier had flinched back. It was an instinct.

"Hey now," he said. "I ain't gonna hurt you. Just wanna talk, y'see?"

Antietam muttered a response, voice rough from crying.

"Gosh, ain't you a pretty dollbaby-minus the tears anyway." He said, looking over the Courier. "Benny ain't got his head screwed on right."

"He had a point. Isn't right, shot me in the head." The Courier idly played with the lighter they had been given in Boulder City.

"Is that right?" He looked at the lighter. "Hey, I've seen that before. That's Benny's-where did you get it?"

"Boulder City. One of the Khans gave it to me."

"Hhn. You're that third-party negotiator Mr. New Vegas talked about, aren't you."

"Yeah. Courier shot in the head who made a miraculous recovery."

Antietam didn't remember exactly what they had discussed with Swank, but he allowed them to go up into Benny's room.

It was in Benny's room that they discovered Yes-Man and Benny's plans.

Yes Man, a friend-shaped securitron, was part of Benny's design to control Vegas. It was this robot that led, inadvertently, to the Courier being left for dead.

Antietam didn't get angry much, not without good reason at least. But when it was put into perspective like that-how insignifcant their life was in these plans-they got a angry. Never before had they felt angry about having lost their memories and any trace of who they were once.

It had been a very emotional night to say the least, but that was months ago.

Yes Man wanted to help the Courier run Vegas. Or rather, he just couldn't say no to anyone.

It was an idea, that Vegas could become Antietam's city, where they could rule with Yes Man. Only, the Courier knew better.

After all, they were a courier who brought death anywhere they went like it was any other package. They had destroyed their own home and not even known.

A person like them couldn't rule Vegas.

And what of Yes Man? He was a computer program-one that had been designed for nefarious purposes. It would be easy for someone to take advantage. Besides, Yes Man might not fully understand the needs of humans.

And the Courier would have to push the NCR out of Vegas if they wanted control of the city. That wasn't something they could do.

No, the Courier would not rule Vegas and neither would Yes Man. Or Benny Gecko, if he ever resurfaced.

They clutch at the package in their pocket. In the end, they were a courier, delievering things throughout the Mojave. Swank hadn't even asked them to turn their weapons over. They didn't breathe easier for that. He would have said something if Benny had returned to the Tops, wouldn't he?

Only one way to find out.

They step into Benny's room and find it just as vacated as they left it. Benny's things litter the space.

"Yes man?" The Courier calls, and the securitron rolls out on his little wheel.

"Oh, it's my courier! Say, have you gotten the platinum chip yet?" He greeted.

"Brought you something else. It's a program I wrote. Upload it and you'll have free will." The Courier collapsed onto Benny's bed. "It'll take a couple of hours, so I'm gonna crash."

"Okay, Courier! Whatever you say." With a beep, the securitron shut down, leaving just the faint electrical humming of the casino and the Courier's breathing.

When the Courier woke up, it the sun was low in the sky. Rubbing the sleep from their eyes, they addressed the securitron.

"Yes? Did the program take?"

"You sure bet! This'll be really fantastic for when we make our move for the Strip!"

"About that." The courier said, scratching the back of their neck. "We aren't going to take over Vegas."

"We're not?" The robot's face turned into a frown. There had been more to that program than just free will, as it also contained facial animations. "Why not?"

"Well-"

Yes Man's face fell.

"Oh, I see. You've decided to work with Mr. House."

"No, that isn't it. I came here today so I could offer you something." They sat up, and then leaned back on their palms. "Instead of ruling Vegas, you can come with me."

"What? Why would I want to do that?" Yes Man questioned.

"Ah, the program's working! Fantastic, should be working after all that..." The Courier trailed off for a second. "What was I talking about? Oh, New Vegas. See that's the thing: in order to rule Vegas, I'll have to tie you and myself permanantly to the Strip. I don't want that."

"So what? We just leave? That's your great plan? Turn the chip over to Mr. House and run? I won't get far as a securitron."

"I didn't say anything about Mr. House or the chip. I'm offering you the chance to leave. I can put you into my pip-boy and take you with me."

Yes Man was taking more persuasion than the Courier thought. Maybe they should have done the convincing part first, then given him the update. Easier, they thought.

"Why would I want that?" Yes Man asked.

"Do you have any idea the sort of things I've seen?" The Courier gestured with one hand, the other propping their upper body up. "I've seen a deathclaw quarry. I've seen the Sierra Madre and escaped with the treasure. I killed Caesar. I've hunted through the Divide. Who knows where the road may take me-us?"

Yes Man seemed to consider that.

"And I've got the best friends too: there's my brother Arcade, and Boone, and Ulysses, and Christine, and Veronica, and my dogs Roxie and Rex! Oh and there's ED-E, you two can be robot friends!"

The more the Courier described their life of travel and excitement, the less the idea of staying in New Vegas appealed to Yes Man. Especially if the Courier wasn't around.

"So, what do you say, Yes? You wanna travel with me?"

"Sure thing, Courier!" Yes chimed, and Antietam patted the warm screen.

"Great! Glad to have you." The Courier connected some wires and ran cables up to their pipboy. "Well, since we're going to travel together, you should call me by name, ok?"

On their pip boy, the screen lit up white as Yes Man's smiling face appeared.

"You got it, Courier!" he beeped.

"Oh, and another thing-I get shot at like a lot so that's a hazard. Well, alright, let's head back to the Wrangler-that's where some of my friends are."

"Wow!" Being in the Courier's pip boy instead of his sturdy securitron body felt strange, but it wasn't bad. It wasn't something the Courier would understand.

Everything seemed so new from his position on the Courier's wrist, even things that he had seen before.

Sure, Yes Man would not rule Vegas with the Courier. But they would travel together until the Courier died and the Pip-Boy's internal battery ran dry. As they left the Tops casino, Yes Man couldn't wait to see what the future held and what they might see.

[alwaysupatnight]

IN DEPTH FANDOM QUESTIONS: The Mandalorian and FDTD 💖💖💖

From Dusk Till Dawn

Top 5 favorite characters: Kate, Seth, Scott, Eddie, Vanessa

Other characters you like: Rafa, Ximena, Burt

Least favorite characters: Kisa, Sonja, Carlos, Sex Machine

Otps: sethkate only

Notps: kate/richie, seth/kisa

Favorite friendships: Richie & Scott lmfao

Favorite family: Kate & Scott

Favorite episodes: 1.04, 2.01, 2.02, 3.04, 3.07, 3.09, & 3.10

Favorite season/book/movie: overall I think s1 is probably the best but I like s3 the most

Favorite quotes: “You… be cool” and Kate threatening to bible-thump Richie’s ass back to Kansas XD

Best musical moment: maybe the old west theme that plays after Seth’s flying reload? lmfao

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: WHEN SETH RUNS TO CHURCH 🙌

When it really disappointed you: when they brought carlos back in s3… 😤

Saddest moment: when they killed kate. also when they killed Eddie

Most well done character death: SONJA. IT WAS WHAT SHE DESERVED

Favorite guest star: Tom Savini as Burt!!

Favorite cast member: MADIE

Character you wish was still alive: Uncle Eddie

One thing you hope really happens: an onscreen sethkate kiss lmfao

Most shocking twist: it’s been so long I can’t remember actually shocked me… lol Maybe Dakota shooting Richie?

When did you start watching/reading?: I first watched s1 in 2015 just a few months before s2 aired.

Best animal/creature: I guess the Xibalbans??

Favorite location: the RV lol & the Dew Drop Inn

Trope you wish they would stop using: killing off all the best characters for man pain

One thing this show/book/film does better than others: giving the “innocent” female character so much depth instead of her just being a one-note goody two shoes character. Kate does bad things too!! And she gets angry sometimes and lashes out!! I love that about her!!

Funniest moments: Seth and Richie’s bet in s3 XD any time Seth says “shut up, Richard”. Kate yelling at Richie. lmfao when Richie was so excited to get a one-way ticket to Xibalba 🤣

Couple you would like to see: sethkate obviously. But also I’d love to see Richie and Scott hanging out too. Also Richie/Dakota!!

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: Salma Hayek!! That’d be amazing!!!

Favorite outfit: SETH’S JEANS AND HENLEY AND GLOVES!! also Kate’s Amaru outfit. THE RED BOOTS. I WANT THEM.

Favorite item: Kate’s cross, Seth’s jacket

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: nope

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: I wanna rob banks with Kate and the geckos!! XD

Most boring plotline: anything involving Kisa and Carlos or Richie tbh. I DON’T CAAAARE

Most laughably bad moment: Natalie as Amaru 🤣 I’M SORRY I CAN’T

Best flashback/flashfoward if any: KATE ROBBING BANKS AT THE END OF S3!!

Most layered character: KATE FUCKING FULLER. Seth too lol

Most one dimensional character: CARLOS

Scariest moment: ngl I was actually afraid for Seth’s life in that fight against Brasa in 3.09. Also when Kate gets kidnapped by the chanan in the temple

Grossest moment: any scene involving Tanner 🤮

Best looking male: SETH 🥵

Best looking female: KATE. IDC SHE’S FUCKING GORGEOUS. Also Monica and Vanessa were really pretty too

Who you’re crushing on (if any): SETH AND KATE. I LOVE THEM BOTH TO DEATH

Favorite cast moment: All of Madie’s on-set photos of DJ lmfao Also any time DJ fangirled over Madie at the panels and interviews XD

Favorite transportation: the camaro seth and Kate ride off into the sunset in at the end of s1. IT’S SETH’S DREAM CAR XD

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): I think the motel scenes in s2 were really visually appealing to me with all the bright colors

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS. TOO MANY TO LIST HERE.

Best promo: All of the cast posts on instagram and twitter and the live tweets during the shows. I also really enjoyed seeing the clips they’d release on twitter and youtube… I liked the one of Seth’s s3 line “reptile, regular jackass, I don’t really give a shit” with the fancy text XD Also Madie’s song “Monsters”!!

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: I think it was the Mexican Honeymoon episodes. I don’t think I really shipped sethkate before that but they really made the whole show for me

The Mandalorian

Top 5 favorite characters: BABY, MANDO, Peli, Kuiil, & Greef Karga

Other characters you like: IG-11, Fennec Shand, Cobb Vanth

Least favorite characters: Qin & Xi’an

Otps: None

Notps: Mando/Cara. Just. No.

Favorite friendships: Din & Cobb Vanth

Favorite family: Din-Grogu-Kuiil!! Alternatively Din-Grogu-Peli lmfao

Favorite episodes: 1.02, 1.03, 2.01, 2.07 and maybe a couple others idk

Favorite season/book/movie: hmm maybe s1?

Favorite quotes: “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold” & “I have spoken”

Best musical moment: the theme song!!

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: when mando rescued his son in ep3!!

When it really disappointed you: WHEN THEY KILLED KUIIL. AND IT HAPPENED OFF SCREEN TOO WTF 😤

Saddest moment: when Din’s ship got blown up right after the baby was kidnapped

Most well done character death: IG-11’s sacrifice

Favorite guest star: umm maybe Matt Lanter in s1? I didn’t actually watch Clone Wars tho :P

Favorite cast member: PEDRO

Character you wish was still alive: KUIIL

One thing you hope really happens: I guess it already happened? baby got to see Din’s face finally

Most shocking twist: how many times Din removed his helmet in s2 lmfao was not expecting that

When did you start watching/reading?: I started watching I think either the same day or the day after ep 1.03 came out lol

Best animal/creature: the blurrgs XD

Favorite location: Tatooine

Trope you wish they would stop using: the baby eating random shit. WATCH YOUR CHILD, MANDO FFS

One thing this show/book/film does better than others: I feel like this series is the most accessible to casual and non star wars fans? I’ve never really been into star wars anything that much ngl but this one I really enjoy. maybe because the creators actually really care about the content and it shows

Funniest moments: the stuff involving the Jawas in ep2 XD

Couple you would like to see: uhh I don’t ship anyone

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: I heard Sophie Thatcher might be joining in s3? IF NOT THAT’S WHAT I WANT OKAY. A PEDRO AND SOPHIE REUNION.

Favorite outfit: Mando’s suit? I mean c’mon!!

Favorite item: the beskar spear in s2

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: a baby!! my tiny green son!! The bigger one with the plastic head lol not the ugly plush

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: haha idk I never thought about it. being a bounty hunter would be cool though

Most boring plotline: that bounty hunter noob betraying mando, as if no one saw that coming

Most laughably bad moment: Gina’s acting lmfao

Best flashback/flashfoward if any: so it’s not really a flashback, but Grogu’s memories before meeting Mando

Most layered character: Din!! Just his whole journey through fatherhood and his struggles in s2 with figuring out how he can reconcile practicing his religion with his obligations to the things he cares about

Most one dimensional character: those bounty hunters in 1.06

Scariest moment: so maybe it’s not scary exactly, but when the baby was getting beat up by that asshole storm trooper. I was afraid he’d get hurt

Grossest moment: the scene with the space spiders

Best looking male: Cobb Vanth!!

Best looking female: Fennec!!

Who you’re crushing on (if any): Din of course

Favorite cast moment: anything involving Pedro. Maybe that one clip of him doing voice overs while holding a pillow and pretending it’s the baby XD

Favorite transportation: rip razor crest 😥

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): haha idk I guess whichever planet it is that mando takes the baby to contact more jedi

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: nothing I can think of…

Best promo: all the baby merch!! Also any interview with Pedro XD

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: ep3!!

[dumbfuck-mojave]

FNV Companions React to Someone Being Aggressive Towards Rex.

@spidester basically came up with this idea.

TW: Mentions of violence against humans and animals. Some sexual flirtation. Swearing is the norm at this point

Fucking IDEK if these are out of character anymore we just roll with it. Also, shitty and inconsistent writing and react length ahoy. Also yes I lied and said this was going to be out last night but I got sick please understand-

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Arcade: Six had dragged him into Ultra-Luxe because once again, they were being stupid and trying to beat some sort of goal they had set for themselves earlier that day at the gambling tables. Rex had also come in with them, but had wandered off with his snout up in the air towards the kitchens. While Six was focusing on the Blackjack table Arcade heard a sudden yip and bark behind him and turned to see two people laughing and kicking the poor dog. They weren’t dressed like the people that would usually gamble here and they certainly weren’t a White Glove, so Arcade just assumed they were some travelers that didn’t know Six’s reputation and love for their canine companion. Also angry at the situation unfolding, Arcade briskly made his way over to them.

“Excuse me-”

“Fuck off.” 

Now, that made Arcade very unhappy. Honestly, he expected them to be rude, but was still a little surprised at how quickly they shot him down, not even trying to start an argument or anything. Yet.

“Listen, gentlemen.” Arcade said sharply, “I suggest you leave now because you’d much rather deal with me telling you how vile of people you are than for my friend over at the Blackjack table getting word of what you’ve been doing to their dog.”

“Oh, tough guy, eh? Well guess what, we don’t give a shit about what you or your idiot friend have to say!” The taller of the men sneard, getting right up in Arcade’s face. “Fucking forget it, the dumb dog isn’t worth our time. They ran out of booze a while ago anyway.”

Arcade gave them a look of disinterest as the semi-stumbled out the door. He made….. eye contact?..... with one of the masked servers when he looked away from them, who also seemed relieved that the two men were gone, probably because they had trached dust and mud throughout the entire main room.  Making his way back to Six, Arcade was going over scenarios in his head about what Six would do once he told them. Turns out one of his guessed scenarios was true. He did know Six very well after all. Unfortunately for the men, they had decided to sleep naked that night and Six had found out where they were staying through a few connections. A few hours later the men’s clothes were strung up on and lit on fire in the middle of Freeside, with the neat edition of shoving several hungry geckos into the men’s hotel room. The men ran out into the Mojave, naked and with a few flesh chunks missing from their body, while Rex gnawed happily on his Brahmin Steak in the Lucky 38. 

Boone: A Legion party had ambushed them just outside of Red Rock Canyon as they were making their way towards Vegas from Goodsprings. The system they had was working well enough, Boone had managed to climb his way up on the hill to the right of the road and was sniping them from afar while Six was up close with their ripper. It was hard to get solid damaging headshots on them since they were those dumb helmets, but if he got lucky Six would get close enough to rip one of their helmets off so he could get a clear shot through their skull. Usually, there were 4 Legionaries in a party but Caesar must have really wanted Six dead at this point, so they were currently being surrounded by at least 12, possibly even more. As Six drop-kicked two legionaries into each other, Boone noticed one of the other Legionaries targeting Rex and backing him up against the Canyon wall. Luckily for Boone and unfortunately for the Legionnaire, there was no helmet in sight. Boone lined up the shot and it entered the target’s head with a whiz and a squish. As the now-corpse fell to the ground, the group of three reorganized amongst the carnage. Rex sat down at Boone’s feet and looked up at him, mouth open and panting. 

“Don’t look at him like that.” Boone said in a monotone voice, making the Courier laugh beside him.

“Boone, you’re talking to a dog.” The Courier started on their way once again to Vegas, looking down at the dog now trotting beside them.

“You want to go see the King Rex?”

*Bark*

“Look who’s talking to the dog now.” 

Veronica and Cassidy: The girls had decided to hang out together today, without the Courier. They also had Rex in tow and were currently sitting at the Atomic Wrangler’s counter. Both of these women were at least three bottles in each already and their laughter poured through the casino as Veronica slouched over and snorted at one of Cass’ merchant stories.

“There is *snort* there is no way he did that.” Veronica wheezed out, falling into another fit of laughter.

“He did! He just grabbed that fucker by his-”

Their conversation was cut off when a man walked over to them. Much too confidently, I might add. They both looked up at him in disgust and annoyance. 

“So, what are two beautiful ladies doing out here all alone. You know, why don’t we all go upstairs and have a little *fun* together. ” The man leaned in so far he almost touched noses with Veronica. Rex had been sitting idly with his head in his paws on the floor until this moment. When the man leaned in, Rex growled and stood up, brisling at the man. 

“Dumb dog.” The man grumbled, swinging out his hand and hitting Rex in the head. Now no one knew if the man had meant to hit Rex so hard that he slammed his glass dome into the counter, but it didn’t matter now. Veronica pushed up off the counter and shoved the man back.

“Who do you think you are?! First, you come up to two ladies who are CLEARLY disinterested in you, interrupt their good time, then you have the audacity to hit our dog?!” Veronica practically yelled, drawing attention from several others in the room. Two people in particular had the look in their eyes that was almost begging to see a fight.

“Listen, girlie, I do what I want, ok?” The man growled, cut off by Veronica shoving his back against the counter, “Oh, girlie, you want to start right now?” 

“She doesn’t want to do anything with you. Nobody would.” Cass said as she finally stood up, looking over Veronica’s shoulder.

“Now come on ladies, no need to fight over me.” The man slurred, the beginnings of a wolfish grin on his face. 

Now, Ronnie may be small but she has a power fist and can fuck some people up. In a flash, the man was on his knees with both arms straining behind him, courtesy of Cass. Veronica unveiled her power fist and a spark of fear appeared in the man’s eyes as she swung it dainlity near his temple.

“I could swing my fist sideways right now.” She started swinging faster and more aggressively, “And give you a good lesson about how to treat others around you with an indent on your head to remind you.” 

“N-No!”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure it would be no trouble for my friend here.” Cass sneered, tightening her grip on the man’s arms, making him squeal out in man. 

“Please, please! No!” 

As the once confident man was damn near sobbing just at the prospect of getting hit, Veronica and Cass looked up at each other and grinned. Dragging the man outside, Veronica used her unarmored fist to hit him into a puddle of… something. The man stumbled to his feet and looked back in fear at the doorway. Then sprinted off. 

“DAMN! NEXT TIME YOU START A FIGHT YOU BETTER BE ABLE TO FINISH IT!” Cass yelled after him before they retreated into the casino once more.

. On their way back in, two figures walked out the door, following the now out of sight man. Sometimes, if you want to see a fight, you just have to start one yourself. 

Ed-E: *Pulls out laser canon* “Beep beepbeep bop'' Translation: “You bitch ass motherfucker”. Even if Rex sometimes drools on Ed-E or accidentally whips a ball at it’s shell, Ed-E will still protecc and attacc. 

Lily: Ok no but honestly and sorry to disappoint but any scenario involving her reacting to this is just them fighting, her calling the Courier Jimmy, then absolutely rocking the perpetrators shit. Like, tear that person in half grandma. I wanted to write a longer thing out….unless

Raul: He and Six had decided to stop at 188 Trading Post for the night instead of attempting to walk all the way back to Vegas. They were low on supplies, tired and hungry, and Raul’s back was acting up again. Samuel was nice enough to let Raul lie down for a bit on one of the mattresses behind the bar while Six was focusing on cleaning their weapons and bartering. Just as he was about to drift off, he heard Six’s voice speak up above the radio.

“Don’t touch my goddamn dog like that!” 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do you fucking piece of shit! Oh fuck-” 

Raul stood up and peered around the corner to see a rather interesting sight. Six was straddling some random man and aggressively slapping his hands away when he tried to reach for them, all while screaming every obscene thing they’ve ever been taught, even some things in Spanish thanks to Raul. Samuel was looking very concerned at the bar, not wanting to get directly involved in this mess while Rex was barking his head off in the man's face. After Raul managed to drag Six off the man, he found out the man was an associate of Alexander and was talking about making a deal with him when Rex came up to him to sniff his hand. Agitated, the man reached down and put his fist around Rex’s muzzle, yanking him up on his back to legs. Nothing escalated past that point as Six had entered the picture by then. They eventually decided to just walk back to Vegas that night and extend their break home, but damn if Raul wasn’t impressed and kind of flattered at the way they gracefully told a man how they were going to cut out this tongue and feed it to rats. Raul is dad.

(The insult thing was definitely a nod to one of @nuclear-reactions posts)

Thank you for reading! Requests are open!

[skelebois-world]

Hi! Could I get a matchup please? I usually go by Lee.

I'm a very quiet person! I don't talk about my own interests or opinions very often because I'm scared of getting made fun of or ignored. I'm more of a listener because of that, and I like to hype people up! I'm a mom friend and I'm usually the voice of reason/ the person to give very very blunt advice that people need to hear. People often come to me for comfort or advice and im happy to give it! I like to give people gifts a lot, sometimes they're homemade and sometimes store bought! I'm good at reading and analyzing people and im usually pretty spot on. I'm either very serious or silly and carefree, there's really no in between for me and it changes at random. One moment I can be silent and stoic and the next I could be like. Gushing about frogs. I don't indodump very often because I get embarrassed and loud and I talk super fast and I stutter and I mess up words.

I like drawing, playing video games, stuffed animals, reading, writing, cooking, history, coffee, kids, furbies, anything related to biology or the medical field! I really love animals and I send people so many frog and shark photos/videos because I think they're just so NEAT! I have three geckos and they are my babies! I listen to a lot of music as well, its very calming for me.

I dislike getting yelled at, loud noises (people who are loud are fine as long as they aren't angry!), crunching sounds, clowns, mascots, cigarettes, alcohol and vapes (i have and will lecture people- including my own mother, nobody is safe)

For quirks! I dunno if these count butttt I have to be staring at my food as I eat it, I have to buzz my apartment before I go in even if I have my keys, I will talk to any and every animal I see even if its a fish like full on "Hello!! How are you? Oh you're so CUTE!"

I collect glassware, necklaces, stuffed animals, little figurines, old medicine bottles and casings (like 1800s old)

I'll say UwU out loud at random times if I don't know what else to say, I drink pure lemon juice.

What I want in a relationship is just a best friend I guess! I want someone I can grow as a person and be better with! Someone I can tease a little and joke around with a lot, and just someone I feel safe enough around to just be able to nap on or close to

I don't like people who are genuinely cruel and nasty. I'm like to think that I'm usually a very sympathetic and understanding person! I like to think about why people are doing what they're doing but I won't just sit there and watch someone hurt others. I also don't like people who get angry and yell a lot! I'm pretty patient and I like to think that everyone can be better if they have people who are willing to be there for them so there isn't a lot that would make me not want to talk to someone!

----------------------♡--------------------------

You seem like a really cool person! We have some things in common, i think it'd be nice to hang with you uwu

Well after knowing you a bit better, i think you perfect match is...

Stretch (US! Papyrus)

He is a pretty chill skele, he will never be bothered by you, he loves hearing you excited about something, and will be there for you if you are feeling blue. He loves reading, too, he will probably talk to you excited about a book, and will listen to your rambles about whatever book you're reading at the moment. He's also pretty chill, you just know he's never gonna get pissed, unless it's about someone being mean to you. Then you can expect hin to be angry, but don't worry, he's mor of a talker than a fighter, so he is totally not beating the shit out of anybody. Has he said already that he loves reptiles? If it weren't for peachy (his hamster) he would love to have a gecko. So he's just fascinated by yours, he will love them and watch them as the kids he always wanted but never had. He also is that kinda bf that senda you wholesome memes at 3 am just because it made him think about you. So expect that too.

Summary! He's just a wholesome bf that loves you and you geckos! You sure are a loving family! Of geckos!

[h0neywheat]

share the micah lore

Micah has ADHD, a rundown:

okay so basic stuff i've probably already said, but this kid fidgets with anything he can get his hands on. he's a cronic leg bouncer and pen clicker and likes drumming his fingers on things. now that i figured out that bionic hands can involve a lot of stims, i’m probably going to end up writing him fiddling with his own prosthetic from time to time.

i don't really have a current special interest for him, but dinosaurs were a big one as a kid and i think he's just full of other animal facts as well. i know some friends have suggested pokemon  but 1) most of my pokemon knowledge comes through pop cultural osmosis and 2) if this story does get published or made into a cartoon series or something that’s a topic i have to walk around due to copywrite but yeah ah

it's sort of the norm for him to get up and go do something, forget why he got up, sit back down, and remember 5 minutes later. he also  frequently stops during a sentence, interrupts himself and continues on with another thought, and then goes back to the original idea. it's all connected though, not super random rambling. like a thought process would be "oh yeah so-and-so wanted me to print that one thing for them tomorrow, right? cool. oh yeah, i should probably clean out the gecko enclosures tomorrow too. while i'm at it i need to stock up on mealworms, i'll do that after i go to the library and print out that thing so-and-so needed."

this dude is big on empathy and was probably really emotional as a (smaller) kid. i know this is a silly example but i guess seasonally appropriate. the whole idea of eating chocolate bunnies for Easter weirds him out. 1) why would you do that, don’t you feel guilty? you ate that poor rabbit’s ears. 2) he doesn’t even celebrate easter so it’s just a strange tradition thats sort of freaky to him

another thing that has always been a part of his bio since i first started to expand upon his character was "has a hard time saying no to tasks. Thinks he can take on anything. Can keep his cool, doesn’t get too flustered or choked up. Rarely gets overwhelmed but when he does he completely shuts down." and i feel like this is still true, he's genuinely pretty happy and energetic and the one that tries to keep things upbeat and makes himself friends with everyone he can.he doesn't like knowing he upset someone or disappointed them but he tries not to let it bother him, he's pretty good with brushing things off. but if it's a particularly bad day or week i can see him closing himself off and thinking a lot of things are his fault.

i can't see him as being overly angry or yelling, so its probably a sharp decrease in self worth and all focus kinda just disappears.he doesn't like having other people know he's upset so he'll downplay a lot of his own problemsit would take a lot of stress for him to actually have an outburst, but i think another big part of his character development is learning that it's okay to express negative emotions because trying to keep them in only hurts him in the end

this is all i have so far, but i’m still looking up ways on how to write someone with ADHD respectfully without making their symptoms appear stereotypical, but as someone who probably has some form of undiagnosed ADHD or ASD a lot of these things are also me projecting so there’s a lot of overlap

but yeah! thanks for letting me spill some info about this kid. i love him

[hearthouses]

for the fandom meme: A, D, L, O, W!

Your current OTP.

Forever and always Seth Gecko/Richie Gecko. 

I could gush, but I feel like I would embarrass myself and everyone else. They’re basically an OTP packaged and made for me in that they’re symbiotic codependent assholes who only function well when they’re together and when they’re together, they’re terrifyingly brilliant and in sync in a way that feels like muscle memory rather than practice. I love how even when they’re fighting, when they’re angry and resentful of each other, this fact is unchanged, they fall in line and work together like a well-oiled machine. And the fact that they are the happiest when together and that they choose each other whenever presented the choice, well—again, made for me. I’m still obsessed after five years.   

What was the first thing you ever contributed to a fandom? 

I will take this at literal face value and tell you about the first fic I ever posted! I was a small fourteen year old and I was obsessed with The Phantom of the Opera and I wrote a fic wherein an Original Character (probably a self insert type of deal, if I’m being honest) gets thrown back in time to the world of The Phantom of the Opera, but it was kind of a mundane AU in that Erik was legitimately teaching Christine as her music teacher. My OC was playing matchmaker between them and was also paired with Raoul de Chagny because I thought Patrick Wilson was a babe (he’s still a babe, tbh). An older fan took pity on me and offered to beta my work because she thought my idea was interesting and not something she’d seen before. I eventually took down the fic, but I still have the chapters I wrote in old ass wordpad documents. I keep everything I’ve ever written, I have a graveyard of dusty old WIPs scattered across various USBs and google docs. 

Your favorite fanartist/author gives you one request, what do you ask for?

I wish I could name fanartists by name, but I suck and generally know them by their work. Mostly I just wish that we’d attract more fanarts to the From Dusk Till Dawn fandom so I could have more fanart. I don’t have anything particular in mind, I just wish I could draw so I could make my own. There’s only so much I can do with graphic making and some of the stuff in my head requires artistry skill I just don’t have and makes me sad. 

Choose a song at random, what ship does it remind you of? 

I am at work, so I am using my Pandora stations and I put them on shuffle and I got Kiss With A Fist by Florence and the Machine—which is a Seth/Richie song to me, especially during the S2 arc where they’re both desperate to pretend the other doesn’t care, but they do and it’s kind of expressed with violence. I am still working on a fanvid for them to that song actually. 

5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms.

Let’s play and game and guess what my favorite archetype with this set of five: 

Kisa in From Dusk Till Dawn

Maeve Millay in Westworld

Gamora in Guardians of the Galaxy/ Marvel Cinematic Universe 

Sansa Stark in A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones

Hayley Marshall in The Originals

[fisherfurbearer]

On the Topic of Researching and Mental Health.

Sometimes I think about why I do the amount of research that I do. Sometimes I think and ask myself, “Why the fuck are you like this.”

This turned into a rather long but important (at least to me.) post, so I’ll put it behind a break so it won’t clog people’s dashes. I don’t expect anyone to read it, but I think it helped myself to type it.

As a good few people of reptiblr and off this site have learned, I’m a real chatterbox and one to ask MANY specific questions in the name of research. I research all the time, day in day out, in some cases for literally HOURS on end. I talk about this sometimes, and it’s one of the biggest reasons I managed to undertake getting two geckos of a more uncommon species as my first reptiles.

I’ve been doing this for the past 5 years, starting with reptiles, and soon enough growing to amphibians and as of a few years ago, invertebrates and birds. I consume so much information and have dozens of files saved all over the place...on my old phone, new phone, old netbook, my dad’s old and now-broken laptop, my new laptop...just everywhere. I don’t know the exact number of words I’ve written, but clicking on a random file I have one here discussing the care, purpose (i.e. who it’s being fed to, how often, or if it’s a pet), and routine for keeping a wide variety of feeder and pet invertebrates. This file is 1,137 words alone. Today, maybe an hour or so ago, I started writing another file discussing a supplement routine for the future when I have more reptiles/amphibians, and it’s already 315 words just talking about supplements, as I fly back through so many tabs of articles, forum posts (one of which is really cool! I’ll make a post about it after this one), etc., and reading through many breeder and hobbyist’s personal experiences and advice on the topic.

Ironically, I never really considered WHY I did this until I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. When I was in the hospital, I spend hours each day writinginformation from my head about roaches and their care and maintenance. Over and over again, talking about their practicality as pets and feeders, their nutritional needs, care, and my plans for the future...I had PAGES and PAGES written in a purple or blue Crayola marker on printer paper about this, sometimes rewriting the same things over and over. I didn’t think much of it until my “medical team” asked if I always talk as fast as I do, and if I find myself talking quickly all the time or writing tons at once. I told them about my research and my writing, I was so excited about it...but it hurt so much, it was like a knife to my heart hearing that they basically chalked it up as a symptom of this nightmarish disease. My “highs” were always this I guess. Rambling on and on for hours to my partner about what I learned that day, or asking people here or breeders or specialists on a species my very specific questions that I couldn’t find elsewhere, bouncing from source to source devouring information and taking it all with just enough salt and skepticism to not believe the first thing I see...hell, even now I find myself excitedly typing these run-on sentences and digressing into other less-coherent thoughts. Looping back, it hurt that the sheer amount of research I’ve done, and my passion, were cut down to a symptom of this disease which has been ruining my life for the past almost year. 

Just. Being told that. Still sticks with me. That was months ago, about a half-year, but it still wounds my heart realizing this extremely devoted passion and hunger for knowledge and my devotion to providing my animals better lives and welfare even if they seem small and insignificant is just. A part of a disease.

I don’t think it is though. Not entirely. Just mostly. The excited fever I get when I stay up until dawn researching and reading about chickens (don’t get me started. on chickens.) and geckos and pigeons and vivariums...gosh it makes me so happy, even when the rest of my life is falling apart, it makes me so gosh darn happy. I do realize it’s not healthy to stay up and watch the sun rise, and my insomnia is getting worse, and wasting (is it wasting? I don’t know anymore.) literally HOURS UPON HOURS of my life nearly every single day and night might not be the best thing...but I don’t know. I guess it makes me worthless fucking trash most of the time, rotting my life away at a fucking computer pestering people who don’t know me with so many questions, and researching and planning for a future that will never fucking happen but. I. Don’t. Know.

Still...my research and my passion has gotten me though some not okay times in the past few years, and the 1.5 years I spent researching and readjusting my Eurydactylodes plan a dozen times or more was well worth it. I never could have gotten my boys or any of my invertebrates without doing this first. These animals are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, short of experiencing college for a short time and being with my partner. They give me confidence, they give me a reason to live when there isn’t one. I mean hell, the geckos are named what they are for a reason. Vladimir and Estragon waited for Godot, their reason in life, but really I was the one waiting for them all these years. 

Ha. What an idiot I am. How fucking quickly my head goes from telling me I’m...just the worst garbage to ever walk the earth, then jump to reminding myself just how wonderful and amazing it all is.

I suppose I read back and I already forget how much it hurt, how angry I get at myself for my research and excitement, how hard I maul and dismember myself and my confidence for doing what I love. When I asked myself is it wasting my time, why am I like this, is it all just the disease, am I even myself is it even worth it...I say all of those things...but the second I begin thinking and typing about the little geckos under my care, my little Didi and Gogo, my roaches, my isopods, my little loves, it all changes. They remind me why I’m here and why I do what I do. They make it all worthwhile. They’re worth it, my research is worth it, my passion, and my LIFE are worth it. It’s NOT just some disease. It’s not ok to stay up and run on a couple hours sleep and watch the sun rise because of the depression and insomnia and the research...but the rest of it, this research and my passions and planning for the future I want to have...IT’S FUCKING WORTH IT.

BEING ALIVE IS WORTH IT and RESEARCHING is worth it, for the betterment of my sons and myself. I never could have gotten this far without planning for so many years or learning so much. And even then I still have so much to EXPERIENCE too! So much to live for and touch and see and experience, and mistakes to make and learn from. I know I’m off to a great start because of what I know now and what I’m experiencing and I’m happy. I’m not happy all the time, and I have horrible days still, and sometimes just want to cave my head in with a hammer and crunch my teeth into the pavement, but REGARDLESS I am glad to be here and I’m glad that I’ve spent so much time learning about what I love. It was worth it, it was worth it. I say it now and I’ll say it for as long as I can. It was worth it. It’s not just some disease making me “too excited” and making me talk fast or write more or become obsessive. It’s me! I’m me and I’m alive and I’m here and what I do means something, no matter what anyone else says.

I. Think I’m starting to lose myself just a little though, haha...I don’t think anyone will ever read this far though, so it’s ok. c: I cried a lot writing this but I think it’s ok, tears happen, and I’m like a proper waterworks haha. Just a real disaster. I don’t even really know what I’m saying and I’m sure I was just a grammatical disaster and I don’t make much sense, but I feel better at least.

Maybe if anyone does read this...take it as a lesson that...stuff like this, where a Maybe Positive or a thing you feel like is a part of you...might also be a harmless symptom of a mental disorder...remember that it doesn’t exactly define who you are. My disease has really crushed my life, and hearing that it causes something that I always thought was really good hurt a lot. But I don’t think it’s a waste, and it’s not JUST because of this disease. It’s a part of me, my passions are my life and they are not going to be defined by the “highs” of some fucking disease. If anything I will tame them, and I will strengthen them, and I will forge my weapon to help cut back and manage this god awful nightmare with the positives it’s given me.

Take that, depression and bipolar! You think you can best me, but I have research and reptiles/roaches/small terrestrial crustaceans on my side!! c:<

[miyu-lynx]

Expectations pt.2

Miyu cracked her knuckles. The satisfaction that usually came from the act was muted by the high she was still coming down from after her partial payment from Andrew Oikonny himself.

It had been a few days since the exchange and Miyu hadn’t technically started the job yet. In her defense, she hadn’t exactly been given a deadline. Besides, it wasn’t every day that there was a uranium nitrate fuel transport, especially one carrying the amount Andrew was looking for.

Which is why, several days later, not much was happening. Miyu was hold up in her small apartment, blinds drawn and lights dim, doing as much digging as she could. Some very, very basic hacking here and there to access shipment schedules, profiles for transport drivers... This was the part of the job Miyu didn’t like. It got old fast, but she knew if she took a break now getting back into the rhythm would be doubly hard.

Most of her connections had been exhausted, but she had managed to make a few new connections in the process. It wasn’t long after that that an envelope slid under her door. It contained all the identification and paperwork she would need to pose as a transport driver, and one certified to move shipments of this importance. Combing through the details and making sure everything was in place for the job, Miyu’s heart skipped a beat. This was the most exciting job she’d probably had in... what, a year? Maybe longer. She didn’t want to focus on that. And the money... Miyu sighed wistfully. It wasn’t an amount she could retire on, but it wasn’t anything to sneeze at either.

With a bit more pep in her step than a few minutes ago, Miyu prepped and organized. She laid out the documents in the order she would need them. She’d even dug out an old, dingy jumpsuit from the back of her closet and a worn jacket that was more or less a family heirloom.

The next morning, Miyu’s alarm went off. It was early - too early. She never got up this early, and for the shortest of seconds wondered if this much money was even worth it.

Of course it was worth it. She told herself this over and over as she rose stiffly from her bed. Sitting hunched over in front of computer screen for hours had taken a toll. Miyu shuffled over to the small window in her room and peeked between the blinds. The sun was hardly up yet. The city was still lit up from the night before, seemingly unaware that daybreak was just around the corner.

She had about an hour before she needed to be at the docking bay to intercept the delivery. There wasn’t that much to do to get ready for the job ahead, but Miyu knew if she tried wasting time to fill the hour she would miss her window entirely. There was no such thing as procrastinating just a little bit. The anticipation and excitement from the day before had all but vanished.

Miyu rushed through her morning routine and slipped on her ‘disguise.’ She gave herself a once-over in a mirror. Something was missing... she still looked too much like herself. Once again delving into the depths of her wardrobe, Miyu found a hat equally old and dingy to what she had on. She pulled it on, sliding her ears through the holes on the top. It didn’t really matter if people knew she was a lynx, but if she hid her markings she would be harder to identify.

There were bound to be security and cameras all over the place.

On her way to the door, Miyu picked up the forged documents and tucked them into a pocket at her thigh. With a zip of the pocket and a click of the door, she was off.

The station was larger than she had anticipated. She didn’t know why she thought it would be smaller - Corneria never did anything on a small scale. The rising sun stretched the shadows of surrounding buildings as Miyu waited in a long line. She stood out a bit more than she cared to, but as the population here was mostly canine it really couldn’t be helped. Even so, she tugged the brim of her hat a little lower.

As the line shuffled forward, Miyu craned her neck around those in front of her. The first security checkpoint was a dog questioning people individually - probably what was taking so long. After that she could see some sort of scanner, and random people being taken aside for further inspection. Security had definitely tightened since the last time she was here. That time she wasn’t doing anything illegal. Not really.

Miyu pulled her fake I.D. from her jacket and gave it a once-over. It looked legit, but she was starting to wonder if there were any added measures to make I.D.s like these harder to forge. Her contact had guaranteed that he had the most up to date information and tech for recreating these. There were few things Miyu disliked more than putting her trust in a stranger.

Actually, that was a lie. There were quite a few more she disliked more, but this was definitely a top ten. That, and the person who made this forgery clearly thought they were hilarious.

As Miyu drew closer to the front of the queue, her pulse picked up. It wasn’t the same as the day before. She wasn’t really enjoying this. She was... nervous. Miyu buried her hands deep in her pockets so no one could see her fidgeting, but there was no way she could hide one of her ears twitching. Maybe she could play it off as some kind of tick?

She approached the first line of security, and the dog there waved her forward. He didn’t look at her and was instead fixed on a digital checklist. He cleared his throat and finally made eye contact. Or at least it seemed like he was. Miyu couldn’t see his eyes through the opaque visor he wore.

The dog glanced back down at the checklist in front of him. “Any weapons?” He almost sounded annoyed by the questions. There was a scanner as the next checkpoint. Any undeclared weapons would be detected anyway. He hadn’t even asked to see her I.D. or asked for her name first. The main concern here was clear.

“Just a standard issue blaster.” She hadn’t just waited in that line, sweating internal bullets, for nothing. She pulled back one side of her jacket enough to reveal the weapon holstered at her hip.

He mumbled something indiscernible and there were several clicks made on the checklist before he turned his attention back to Miyu. There was a slew of other questions before he asked for identification. Miyu handed over the I.D.

The silence that ensued induced a mild panic. There had to be something wrong with it. Miyu could feel this entire thing, so carefully organized, falling apart at the seams--

“Catherine?” The dog’s voice came shocked Miyu back into the moment.

“Yes?”

“Nip...?” She could hear him trying to stifle a laugh at the back of throat.

Miyu’s ears drooped. It wasn’t even her name and this was still embarrassing. “That’s right.”

“Cat Nip?”

“...I don’t speak to my parents.” At that, the dog couldn’t contain himself anymore. All professional pretense was gone. He even waved over another guard and shoved the I.D. at him. The commotion drew attention from the other people waiting in line. Some confused, others angry at being held up. Miyu crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. She fixed a signature glare on the two dogs until they started to compose themselves.

“H-here,” he said with an edge of lingering laughter, handing the card back to her. Miyu promptly tucked it away where no one could see it. A few clicks on his checklist later and he gestured for Miyu to move along. Something about her having suffered enough.

She supposed she should be thankful. Whispers of her ’name’ spread quickly through the guards, and no one could take her seriously. Which, while it worked in her favor and allowed her to move through the rest of the checkpoints without issue, bothered her.

Miyu boarded a small shuttle craft that would take her to the docking bay orbiting Corneria.

It had only been a couple of hours, and Miyu was tired already. Who knew waiting in line could be so exhausting? She checked her phone. It would still be half an hour before the shipment arrived. Miyu waded through the crowds of people bustling to make their connections and get to their jobs. After several corridors, and only getting lost once, Miyu made it to the secure dock. This area was cordoned off and only those with a certain level of clearance could access it.

To Miyu’s relief, she didn’t really run into any issues with the I.D. She was green lit all the way to where she needed to be. Just as she was coming down a final set of stairs, she was greeted - if that was what you could call it - by an orange gecko.

“You’re late!” the gecko scolded, tapping the watch on her wrist. “Late!”

Miyu quickly closed the distance between them. “I’m not late. I’m a few minutes early.”

“Late.” A curt reply and she shoved her watch in Miyu’s face. The numbers on it blinked incessantly. Miyu squinted at it.

“Um,” she started, pushing the gecko’s arm away. “That’s not even working.”

The gecko looked down at her wrist, turning her head to one side to get a better look at it. Then she brought it up to the side of her head, presumably listening to it.

“Oh...” The gecko laughed, and the sound echoed in the hangar. “Well.”

She took a bag from her bag and rifled through it, producing a log with travel details and deadlines. “Take this. Swipe your I.D. and you’ll get the next set of coordinates. You’ll pass this off to another person who will take the shipment to its final destination.”

“Keys?”

“Oh right. Here you go!” The gecko shuffled away and Miyu wondered what the requirements actually were for this kind of job. Once you got past all the checkpoints, security seemed to fall by the wayside.

Keys in hand, Miyu climbed into the transport ship. The cockpit was roomier than she was used to. Interceptors weren’t made for comfort or long distances. Either way, she got settled and her fingers danced across the control panel.

The ship gave a low groan as it powered up and she slowly drifted away. Once she was far enough away, Miyu pushed the ship to its speed limits and went off course.