#these arguments are genuinely hilarious

[radsplain]

y'all will say "biology has nothing to do with being a man or woman" and then take hormones to mimic the secondary sex characteristics of the opposite sex and in extreme cases go under the knife to chop off your breasts and castrate your penises. like if being a man or woman has absolutely nothing to do with biology, why are you attempting to transition at all? what are you even transitioning from, if your biological sex has no bearing on your so-called internal sense of identity. why are any of you even calling yourselves trans. like genuinely

[eddiegettingshot]

sorry i just like. it's so insane to me to make wholesale claims of immorality and bigotry about a completely atomized and diverse community of people based on the one shared interest that suggests nothing about and has no bearing on anyone's identity or social position or opinions. like when you go on my blog you should not be putting "buddie shipper" above "brown lesbian" in terms of importance and you certainly shouldn't be approaching me like the first matters more than the second because that is a wholly abnormal way to act. it's just fucking weird. i would never do that to anyone. i am not responsible for the people outside of my circle just because we share an interest but i am responsible for being vocal about the (real) issues i do see in the spaces i enjoy. that's what i'd expect of anyone else too. so i hope that the people getting self-righteous are turning inward with the same exact energy! (i haven't seen it but there's still time)!

[thesmokinpossum]

Vito: Omg, I can't believe your stupid ass robbed a liquor store for no reason, what the hell is wrong with you? 😡 

Sonny: Well I saw you kill a man

Vito:

[lady-corrine]

You know, I always suspected that the tvd fandom wasn't the brightest in terms of media literacy, but seeing some specific shippers claim that Lisa portrayed the relationship between Damon and Elena in a positive light in her continuations is certainly... interesting? To say the least. Because:

He’s saying that right now Elena is up for grabs.

But at the mention of Elena, Damon felt at a flush of pure greed that started in his jaws and spread outward.

If I have to, I’ll Influence you to agree with me. I probably should have done that in the beginning. I seem to remember promising I wouldn’t, but I believe that promise also had a time limit that ran out.

Now to each their own, but 😬

[hermywolf]

butcher angry because his plan failed. then realizing he gets to beat someone up about it

[erabundus]

i've  mentioned  it  before  on  discord,  but  scara  would  intentionally  start  so  much  shit  at  the  harbinger  banquets  —  but  he  would  always  be  very  SNEAKY  about  it.  he  (  usually  )  wouldn't  pick  any  fights  DIRECTLY,  he  would  simply  drop  a  little  breadcrumb  trail  to  carefully guide  the  discussion  in  a  direction  that  inevitably  led  to  an  argument.  (  like  asking  your  estranged uncle  about  his  terrible  hot  takes  at  christmas  dinner.  )  he  loved  the  drama,  he  wasn't  afraid  to  get  involved  in  it  —  but  it's  always  more  fun  to  sit  back  and  watch  the  FIREWORKS happen.

[poisoned-sugar11]

I don't mean to talk behind people's back but sometimes a friend will say a quote so bizarre it just permanently becomes part of my vocabulary so i kinda do I guess /lh

[mxdotpng]

the zestiria anime fixes and also messes up many things at the exact same time its actually kind of impressive i have to salute them for it

[greatandholypangolin]

am I wrong for saying “shoutout to asexuals”?

ok so recently, whenever a conversation has died or whatever, I’ll just say “shoutout to asexuals” and then move on, because, idk, it’s a bit funnygoofy and also I like my asexual friends. Anyway, I said it in front of my mother and she said not to do it anymore, because it could be seen as “othering” people with asexuality. I don’t see it that way at all, but I wouldn’t like to be accidentally homophobic, so I’m using a poll to get real asexual opinions

for reference, I’m bisexual, and my mother knows that, so I am part of the LQBTQ+ community, but I’m (maybe) not asexual. I’ve been thinking about things around the aro/ace spectrum, based on past experiences, but I feel as though I’m not sure enough to give myself any proper labels. My mother doesn’t know about that part.

so, my mother’s arguments:

It may seem like I’m “othering” the asexual community by saying that

its like being the a white girl in a room with a few black people in it and saying “shoutout to black people” - it feels weird to her

im not saying it because I genuinely want to support asexuals, I’m saying it as more of a verbal tic

my 2 asexual friends agreeing is not a large enough group, even if they both are fine with it, others may not be

and my arguments are:

Im saying it to include asexuals, because they can sometimes feel disregarded in LGBTQ+ spaces

its pride month, literally the best time to give random unprovoked asexuality shoutouts

Idk, I feel like asexual people wouldn’t really be offended by that

both of my asexual friends think it’s hilarious and encourage me to keep going

it’s like a cis person saying “yay trans pride” at random moments and being told not to because it’s making trans people feel more separate

im not othering asexual people, I’m celebrating them

also pls reblog this around I want the largest possible data set so I know if I’m problematic or not

[uzurakis]

Yess so glad to see more Sakamoto days fans 😏 may I request some Nagumo headcanons with him being in a relationship, kinda curious about how’d he be like in an argument with s/o

ೀ ׅ ۫ . YOICHI NAGUMO RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS ?

SFW and NSFW under the cut!

n. i just recycled and elaborate the sfw ones from the asked i got from my 🎲 anon, added other things also. i love writing my stinky rascal . . hope u enjoy ^3^

the dynamic in a relationship with nagumo will be natural & playful so it allows the relationship to develop organically. your relationship with him is built on a foundation of mutual understanding and subtle communication. instead of a formal confession, his consistent flirting and genuine expressions of affection serve as his way of showing his feelings.

his love languages would be heavy on physical touch, means that he expresses and receives love most profoundly through physical closeness and touch. accepts pda; in fact, he prefers to take the lead. never let him take his hands off of you, somehow. pulls you by the waist and gives you a nosy kiss. he enjoys spending quality time, although his profession occasionally prevents him from doing so. however, he will make the most of his time with you while it is available.

really clingy in private. won’t let you get out off the bed by hugging you from behind. he’s also the big spoon most of the time.

he talks in his sleep when he’s comfortable with you, murmuring about how much you mean to him and lazy smooches here and there. likes to pretend to be asleep as well so you continue to caress him in bed when he’s ‘asleep’.

traps you in a hug every single time. nagumo just comes out of nowhere to hug you, not letting you go, and says “caught youu” and carries you in bridal style around the house.

if you love his tattoos, he definitely walks around naked in the house. also, the sign that he truly trusts you with all his life is when he tells you the meaning of each tattoo he has.

put your belongings at the topmost shelf so you need to call him for help or hides your stuffs in the most random places ever.

you guys have board and card games around the house. monopoly? uno? guess who? snakes & ladders? just name it.

i’ve seen so many times others saying he loves to play pranks, i definitely agree. intentionally getting you on your nerves just for him to apologize with another set of pranks. he’s just silly like that.

contrarily to beliefs, he likes to mull over after you guys argue and gives you space as he rethinks and reflects his actions. when he apologizes after a big fight, he takes both of your hands and swings them left and right as he explains, still teases but with a nervous smile this time.

a flirt, teaser, prankster, drama queen, what else?

he MATCHES YOUR FREAK, did i tell you he’s a nasty in bed? one hell of an experimentalist, doesn’t mind doing anything with you. his rage is huge, i’ll tell you that. vanilla? roleplay? waxplay? pegging? all down, just name it.

quickies at inconvenient times. you guys have a meeting in 10 minutes? 4 minutes is enough to do your thing in the public bathroom together.

likes to steal glances to your tits when you guys talk. i believe he’s a tit guy rather than ass. though, in public, his hands tends to uncontrollably go down to your ass when he circles you by the waist.

too good at nipple play.

nagumo likes you make you squirt, his personal favorite. however, for him, he likes it when you give him a handjob.

talks & coos to your pussy likes its you!

in bed, he likes it when you go rough, i think it’s really going to turn him on. just ride him i swear. might be one of his best times in life.

crack jokes during it, he’s quite humorous doing sex. compliments you in a funny way and says hilarious things also. expect your sex won’t be too serious and just all laughs & giggles.

doesn’t give a fuck about bounds, so semi public and publix sex are often.

@uzurakis

[angelshizuka]

The "Stolitz is unhealthy" arguments against this ship honestly make me laugh so hard, because they're acting like they made his huge revelation, while instead it's like.. congrats, you just pointed out the entire point, but still missed the point.

The entire point is how their relationship is unhealthy NOW, but because there's genuine love and care between them (they just don't know how to act on it/express it, due to past traumas), there's room to grow and BECOME healthy. Not all couples have these perfect and "wholesome" get together stories.

Like, Jesus Christ, do these people seriously believe relationships need to be healthy the literal nano-second you meet someone or else it's ruined forever...

Stolitz being "unhealthy" (in other words complicated and layered) is literally why it's so compelling and why I want to see them work through it and come out stronger the other end.

Not liking Stolitz is one thing, it's just the "morality police" arguments that are hilarious to me.

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Do you have any other funny snake dating mishap stories?! The last one is absolutely hilarious. Or even just regular snake mishap stories you'd like to share?

You guys have no idea how hard being a herpetologist can be on your dating life, honestly.

Once had a guy not tell me he was afraid of snakes (not even just a little nervous, actual phobia) until two dates in, and, like, he was a nice guy but there's just no way that's working out because he couldn't even look at snakes and I have a lot of snake-based home decor and I didn't want to accidentlly commit psychological warfare on the poor guy who would see a huge TV screen with a snake screensaver the instant he stepped into my house

Clicked with a guy at a bar and promptly got into a long argument because he thought snakes don't have bones. Dude literally asked to see my degree because he was so sure I was wrong

First date, when I mentioned what I did, dude actually said "yuck." I couldn't mask my facial expression of absolute dismay and we called it a night, citing irreconcilable differences

One dude thought it was cool until I said I don't feed my snakes live food, was genuinely disappointed about that. Dodged a bullet early with that one

One guy tried to impress me by asking to hold a snake while being obviously very nervous about it, he literally made little squeaking noises and jumped every time the snake moved so I did not let him hold her as I was worried he'd toss her across the room if she moved too much

I guess my conclusion is I wish there was a dating app for herpetologists.

[cher-rei]

Getting into a fight with Jamal where you’re mad at him and he try and make you laugh. It doesn’t work so he kisses you

the great pineapple debate– jamal musiala [ J.M]

I still love him, though [kill bill– sza]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: a silly argument about the wrong pizza order breaks out, but jamal is in the mood for some teasing

genre(s): tooth rotting fluff and a hatred for pineapple

[w.c: 1k] masterlist

notes: do you guys like pineapple on pizza? like this is a genuine question. I giggled like an idiot while writing this please I need him now.

"jamal musiala get your ass to the kitchen right now!"

jamal's heart dropped to the pits of hell. he leapt from the couch, dodged everything that was in his way until he made it to the kitchen out of breath and in utter fear. you stood at the counter with your hands on your hips and pursed lips.

oh, he fucked up.

he took a few wary steps towards you, a sheepish smile on his face. "was the government name really necessary?"

you didn't respond to his question and gestured to the pizza boxes that he didn't notice at first. his mind was racing with thoughts of his obituary instead but the sight of your supper made him blink in confusion.

"we agreed on pizza tonight," he said thinking that maybe you forgot but that wasn't the problem. the problem was the topping.

he watched as you opened both pizza boxes, and lo and behold the decorated pieces of yellow disgust. jamal's shoulders eased at the sight but you weren't happy about it all. he knew that you hated pineapple on your pizza, it was one of the first things you told him when you started dating.

but it was never an issue, because he made sure to never get the fruit close to your meal. he scratched the nape of his neck and tried to pull you towards him. "they must've gotten the order wrong. it's fine just take the pineapple off--"

"jamal, you cannot be serious right now." you pulled away from him with an exasperated groan. even though he didn't say anything, you knew that you were acting like a picky brat right now, but you couldn't help yourself.

in your entire lifetime there was only once instance where you tried pineapple on your pizza and of course it didn't end well. it came up almost immediately, but you luckily made it to the bathroom in time. the taste of the fruit was too much, and it overwhelmed your sense in the worst way possible.

needless to say, you were traumatised. and jamal knew that you weren't going to eat at all tonight if this was the case, but he couldn't help himself today and let his mouth run and now he had to pay the price.

"pineapple on pizza is just... wrong!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. "I can't believe you like it, it tastes so ugh."

you were upset, but jamal couldn't fight back his grin. he found that you looked absolutely adorable like this, complaining about the combination to the point where you were going red in the face.

he grinned, unable to resist teasing you further. "baby, you're just not cultured enough to appreciate the combination, okay? and that's fine."

not cultured enough?? oh he was for sure sleeping outside tonight.

before you blew up any further you took a deep breath to calm yourself in case you did something rash. you narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend, clearly not amused. "this isn't about culture, it's about taste. and pineapple on pizza is just– no."

jamal knew that he was treading on thin ice, but he couldn't help himself. he grabbed the nearest object— a banana from the fruit bowl— and held it like a microphone. "ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the great pineapple debate of 2024!"

you watched in slight concern as your boyfriend commentated, trying to lighten the mood. he was smiling from ear to ear, finding the situation absolutely hilarious but you weren't convinced.

"in this corner, we have pineapple lover--" he stopped for a moment and winked at you. "--who he undoubtedly loves his girlfriend more– jamal! and in this corner, the anti‐pineapple crusader, the love of jamal's life!"

he tapped the bottom of your chin, causing you to roll your eyes while you tried your best to suppress your smile. "j, stop being silly."

"but wait, there's more!" jamal said and spun the banana like a baton. "stay tuned for an exclusive interview with the champion of the 'anti-pineapple' camp. will she change her mind?" he walked up from behind you and ticked your sides, getting just what he wanted and appreciating the sound of your laugh. "spoiler: highly unlikely."

you couldn't help but laugh at his little performance and shook your head at his antics. "you're ridiculous, you know that?"

jamal grinned, loving the sound of her laughter that made his heart flutter. "ridiculously in love with pineapple on pizza, maybe?"

you rolled your eyes again, his undeniable charm making it difficult for you to stay mad at him. the smile on your face was genuine, along with the twinkle as you looked up at your boyfriend. "and maybe me?"

"especially you," jamal said and leant in closer.

your laughter subsided, and you looked into his brown eyes, the argument long forgotten because your knees were about to give in. "you know, it's funny how we can argue about the stupidest things."

jamal hummed in agreement, his hands finding your waist to rub small but comforting circles. "because we care so much about each other that stupid things don't matter."

before you could respond, he leant in and kissed you, catching you off guard with the sudden sweeteners of the gesture. you melted at his touch, nothing else rendering besides the warmth and tenderness of his lips on yours that any form of previous annoyance melted away as well.

when you finally pulled away, jamal looked into your eyes, his own full of affection. "I love you. whether you hate pineapple or not."

you smiled, a feeling of warmth spreading through your chest. "I love you too, even if you're wrong."

jamal couldn't help but laugh and pulled you into a tight but comforting hug. "as long as we have each other, then stupid things don't matter."

your nose scrunched teasingly and placed a delicate kiss to his neck which tickeled him a bit but you knew that he loved it. "you're right. you're the only stupid thing that matters to me."

jamal bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something. instead he forced a laugh and tightened his grip on you, enough that you were fighting to be let go of. "you're so lucky I love you."

[thriftedtchotchkes]

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[little-star-library]

I absolutely love hearing Astarion’s laugh, whether it’s from a cheesy joke or when he cracks himself up with his twisted sense of humor. And I don’t think we see him genuinely smile with joy that often other than the times he’s being flirtatious or in his menacing aura when he’s slaughtering his enemies.

But just imagine as the two of you grew closer, it would be so easy to get him laughing. It would start out with small chuckles and the briefest hint of a smile, maybe when some of your fellow traveling companions would get in a stupid argument over the pettiest of things or when you would accidentally trip over your own feet and land flat on your face in the dirt. But as time passes, you would make it your sole purpose just to hear him laugh and it would eventually grow into a sort of a competition between the two of you to crack each other up because he would slowly come to realize how much he loves to see you smile and laugh even in the midst of all the chaos.

At first, he would hate the fact that he was growing soft and vulnerable around you and he felt like he had no control over his boundaries and would think that you were secretly plotting some sort of scheme to get him to trust you further or had him under some sort of spell. But then he started to see that you held no malicious intentions towards him and you just had an aura about you that was full of joy and happiness and was simply contagious for anyone that was around you.

And he would look so cute when he’d be smiling and seeing his crimson eyes light up, with his fangs poking out over his bottom lip and the occasional twitch of his pointy ears whenever you would share a funny story or a witty quip at his overdramatized theatrics. He would playfully pout while you would tease him and mimic his voice and actions, but it was just too hilarious for him not to smile at how comical you looked while doing so.

And if you were in a romantic relationship with him, he would enjoy having those soft moments with you where you could get him to giggle at your affections towards him, from peppering kisses all over his face to tickling and poking each other throughout the day. One of his favorite moments was when the two of you got into a water fight when you were bathing away the sweat and grime from a long day, splashing each other in a fit of laughter and genuinely enjoying your company. And he is so fond of having tender and lighthearted sex with you and making each other laugh at how ridiculous you both are in the heat of the moment while you knock foreheads together and sharing sweet kisses.

You love being able to see him in this new light where he can let his walls go down and you take pride in seeing him act more goofy than usual and he adores you for showing him a different side of intimacy that is pure and virtuous in its simplicity.

(I could go on and on about how to make this man smile and laugh because he deserves to have some happiness in his life and that’s all I want for him, he’s just so sweet.)

[literallythegrabber]

TBP characters x somehow famous reader ? ( It's up to you how ) thank you for reading my request 👍

so I wasn't sure whether or not you wanted the cast or the characters themselves, so I just went with cast because it made more sense.

If you wanted characters I can redo it! 💗💗 (this looks way longer than it actually is btw)

Mason

he definitely stalks you

like not in a creepy way, he's just always on your social platforms, literally waiting for you to post.

he's totally your biggest fan, and will literally attempt to fight all of your haters.

Before your relationship, I feel like he was very nervous to talk to you.

Like if you two were ever at a screening together, or a fancy event back when TBP was popular, this man would legit stare you down from across the room. Then proceed to duck under a table if you catch him staring.

But during your relationship he would be way more relaxed and confident.

He would be chill about pda and taking you on dates in public, but your fanbase would be doing cartwheels, cause everybody ships yall.

Miguel

He's so obvious about his crush on you that it's hilarious.

If you seen those lives where he's just reading comments, then one mentions your name. He's gonna ramble on about you for the rest of the live.

WILL NOT SHUT UP ABOUT YOU, and his friends are tired of it tbh.

bro literally forgets he's famous too and turns into the ultimate fangirl.

But during your relationship he's so sweet.

Always wanting to hangout with you, taking you out in public almost every day.

If yall ever broke up, yalls fans would explode.

They be acting like yalls children with how lovey dovey yall are.

Brady

I feel like he'd try to hide it.

Like he's not in denial, but he don't want nobody knowing about his crush on you.

"conceal, don't let it feel" he's literally elsa.

He kinda keeps to himself around you, in public and all that.

He wouldn't want to overwhelm you, especially with how the media reacts when two popular human beings get together.

So you'd def have to approach him and ask for a date.

During your relationship, he would thaw the ice a bit.

You'd have to reassure him of your relationship a lot.

He just wants you to be comfortable. Lazy nights at home, introverted hangouts, cooking together.

Pretty chill.

Tristan

literally the opposite of brady.

IS YOUR BIGGEST FAN AND DOESN'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT.

He's definitely trying to rizz you up at a fancy event, and you're just like 😐

Like whispering random shit in your ear, trying to make you blush, posing with you at every opportunity.

Kinda annoying tbh

But if you give him a chance he'll tone it down. He'll start be more genuine and less flirty.

Taking you out to dinner, not wanting to take pictures with fangirls even though you scold him for being rude.

def starts arguments with you for fun. Starting light hearted arguments with you for fun.

this mf is still annoying.

but overall very cute.

Jacob

He's honestly pretty chill about you.

He just casually approaches you strikes up conversation.

In the middle of an interview? "These lights are bright, am I right y/n?" Talking with a fan? "Y/n, don't you have that same shirt?" Signing an autograph? "Do you think aliens are real?"

like shut up 😭

He really just enjoys talking to you, hearing your voice is the highlight of his day.

Yall would ease into a comfortable friendship before he ask you out.

From there on its late night ft calls, stealing each other's clothes, and going on casual excursions.

def the easiest to date.

Madeleine

She's so funny.

Either confesses right off the bat, or confirms you're hers after yall lock eyes.

kinda reminds me of that one audio, YOU ARE MINE, YOU ARE MINE.

Yall could be talking about pregnant hyenas, and she'll randomly be like, "I love you".

like girl what?

During your relationship she would be super cute.

Yall always out together. You can never catch her inside for more than 10 minutes.

Mason be feeling like a third wheel every time yall three are in the same room.

Yall just in the corner flirting and mason's just sitting there like 😐.

def your hype girl, yall always turning up.

srry, this was so long 💗💗