your-oddities

[your-oddities]

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Backseat

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Cautions: None besides fluff!

Word count: ~1.3k

•——•——•——•——•——•——•——•

You press your foot on the gas nearly as hard as you’re able to. Sounds of the car protesting loudly grow by the second, though the vehicle won’t budge. You can almost hear grunting coming from behind the car, just barely audible over the engine’s roar. Several seconds pass and, deciding it’s not doing either of you any favors, you take your foot off the gas. You stick your head out the open window and look to the back of the car.

“Is it working?” You shout, trying to look around the trunk. All he responds with is a groan before you watch as he comes around to the driver’s side.

The bottom of Tim’s jeans and every inch of his shoes are practically caked in mud, his shirt also somehow getting dirtied up by the sludge. He trudges to the driver’s side, shaking his head. “Nah. Wheel keeps on spinnin’ but it won’t move.” When you lean back into the car, he rests his elbow on the open window.

This couldn’t have possibly come at a worse time. You two were taking the backroads home after a tiring day. It’s been all too long since you two have been home, your bed ready to replace the nights spent snoozing in the passenger seat. But things turned for the worse when a deer came from the darkness of the woods and darted in front of the car. Tim successfully steered out of the way, though also managing to drive into a large patch of mud on the side of the road. And now, after a few minutes of trying to force the truck out of its spot, the both of you silently agree it’s time to throw in the towel.

Silent seconds pass, the conversation lulling. Not a car passes by, not a helping hand. So, not sure what to do, you turn to Tim. "Now what?" He keeps on looking down the endless road, and it seems as though he hadn't even heard you. But he finally answers with a sniffle and a simple shrug of his shoulders.

"Dunno." Tim replies before looking back to you. "Text Brian and hope he's awake, I guess." He wipes his muddy hands on his already dirtied shirt, fishing his phone out of his pocket. You watch while he taps away at the screen.

“Hope? So we just, what? Wait here if he isn’t up?” Staying yet another night in this old, beat up truck is less than ideal. But you don’t have the money for a night in a motel, much less the energy to walk to one. So, before he even answered, you knew what the response would be.

He looks up from his phone and purses his lips a bit. “I mean, what else are we gonna do? We don’t got many options here.” He slips his phone back into his pocket and takes his elbow off the car. He quickly climbs into the back of the truck and slips off his grimy shoes. You lean heavily against the back of the seat with a weighted sigh escaping you. Out of the corner of your eye Tim’s hand snatches his pack of cigarettes from the center console, and mere seconds later the smell of nicotine and smoke fills your nostrils.

Silence takes over in the absence of conversation. Inevitably, you’ll have to fall asleep in here. And, inevitably, you’ll wake up with every part of your body hurting in some way or another from staying in the same position all night. You take a glance in the rear view mirror towards the man behind you. He looks to be even more tired than you are. His eyes are almost fighting to stay open, a cigarette hanging from his lips. His eyes meet yours in the rear view mirror, yours swiftly looking elsewhere.

You curse mentally as he speaks up. “You cold?” He asks, honestly sounding bored. You’re almost confused by the question before your upper body shakes as a shiver runs through you. You hadn’t paid much mind to the cold. The heater doesn’t work well, so you two have been dealing with the chilly temperature for nearly the whole ride. You suppose you’ve gotten used to it.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Kind of.” The words sound awkward coming out of your mouth. There’s no apparent reason behind it. At least, not that you can think of. “But I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Looking back to the mirror, it’s obvious your words did little to nothing in convincing Tim, eyes fixed on you. But he doesn’t call you out on it. Rather, he scoots over a smidge and gestures with his head as a sort of ‘come on’ motion.

The smiling tugging at your lips is involuntary. You’re not even sure why he’s inviting you back there, but you can’t help feeling pleased nonetheless. Now hopping out of the driver’s seat, you climb into the backseat with Tim. His muddy shoes sit in the open spot for your feet, so you opt for a criss-cross position on the seat. “Sorry about the shoes.” He apologizes sincerely.

You merely shrug. “Don’t worry about it.” You shut the door behind you before looking back to Tim once more. Now, instead of an almost unreadable expression on his face, he’s simply smiling as he looks to you. His hands rest on his legs, the cigarette lazily held between two fingers. If there was just one contagious grin in the world, his would be it.

With his free arm, he opens it up to you. The wave of his hand only further solidifies what he’s wanting you to do. You’re cautious, of course. He’s never been one for physical contact. You lost track of the amount of times your arm or hand brushed against his accidentally and he immediately steps back or puts his hand in his pocket. But this, this is a warm welcome in contrast to the closed off demeanor he has every day.

Hesitantly, you nudge closer to him. He doesn’t rush you. Instead his eyes follow your movements as you edge closer towards his open embrace. Once you’re close enough, he places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes you into a surprisingly comfortable position. Your body is stiff at first, of course. You’ve never been in this sort of situation with him, much less one where you could touch him at all.

His hand rubs up and down your arm slowly. That alone serves to calm you. Your muscles relax and a deep breath escapes you as you realize that you’re gonna be here for a while. You almost immediately rest your head on his shoulder. A quiet laugh shakes Tim a little and he holds you closer.

He brings the cigarette up to his lips, taking a long, slow drag. The tip burns red until he finally breaks away a few seconds later. Smoke leaves his parted lips and his eyes shut. When he opens them again, he looks down to you. “Want it?” He holds the cigarette towards you as an offer. “Might help you feel warmer.”

You’ve smoked before, and so it’s not like this is far too new for you. Wordlessly, you grab the cigarette from between his fingers and bring it to your mouth. Breathing in deeply, eyes shut. Reluctantly, you pull it away and breathe out. Grey smoke leaves your lungs and your eyes open again. Glancing back to Tim, you hold the cigarette out for him to take. But he shakes his head. “I’m good. You can finish it.”

You’re unsure of what this change in his personality is due to, but it’s surely welcome. You lean against him heavily and his arm tightens around you. You take another drawn out drag from his cigarette, eyes shutting. His head rests against yours as a heavy sigh leaves him.

The night felt a little warmer after that.

• . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . •

Thanks for reading !! ヾ(^_^)

probably not gonna post for another month … el oh el … so happy holidays ! ♡

[your-oddities]

MARBLE HORNETS

꒷꒦꒷ Reader Inserts ꒷꒦꒷

- Backseat - With his old truck stuck in the mud, you two wait for help by sharing warmth and a cigarette.

꒷꒦꒷ Oneshots ꒷꒦꒷

- Detour (ft. Hoody) - What if Tim caught Hoody in Entry #61?

- Late night chat (ft. Jay) - While sharing a motel room, Tim and Jay spend part of their night enjoying each other’s company outside.

꒷꒦꒷ Headcanons ꒷꒦꒷

- General headcanons (ft. Jay, Brian and Alex)

- Jam headcanons (ft. Jay)

꒷꒦꒷ Reader Inserts ꒷꒦꒷

- Not yet written… ＿ﾉ乙(､ﾝ､)_

꒷꒦꒷ Oneshots ꒷꒦꒷

- Detour (ft. Tim) - What if Tim caught Hoody in Entry #61?

꒷꒦꒷ Headcanons ꒷꒦꒷

- General headcanons (ft. Tim, Jay and Alex)

꒷꒦꒷ Reader Inserts ꒷꒦꒷

- Not yet written… ＿ﾉ乙(､ﾝ､)_

꒷꒦꒷ Oneshots ꒷꒦꒷

- Late night chat (ft. Tim) - While sharing a motel room, Tim and Jay spend part of their night enjoying each other’s company outside.

꒷꒦꒷ Headcanons ꒷꒦꒷

- General headcanons (ft. Tim, Brian and Alex)

- Jam headcanons (ft. Tim)

꒷꒦꒷ Reader Inserts ꒷꒦꒷

- Not yet written… ＿ﾉ乙(､ﾝ､)_

꒷꒦꒷ Oneshots ꒷꒦꒷

- Not yet written… ＿ﾉ乙(､ﾝ､)_

꒷꒦꒷ Headcanons ꒷꒦꒷

- General headcanons (ft. Tim, Jay and Brian)

>>—————————>>

If you want to use the photos above, feel free to! Just credit me, please ♡

[your-oddities]

Intro !!

Master list at the bottom (sorry)

Personal stuff !

I’m Zol and I’ll use any pronouns

I’m queer + agender but that’s all I’ll say about it b/c i know you just wanna read fanfics • з •

About my writing !

I mainly use this blog for fanfiction, headcanons… basically anything about my interests that requires writing more than a couple of sentences :P

Since I'm agender, I aim to keep a lot of my reader insert fanfics readable for every gender identity! Most — if not all — reader inserts won’t have a specified gender. (I'm sick and tired of every reader insert being a woman)

I also apologize in advance for bad writing or writing anything OOC. These are my first fanfictions ever + I’m just in high school. So have mercy ｡ﾟヽ(ﾟ´ Д｀)ﾉﾟ｡

You’re more than welcome to request things!!! I can’t promise I’ll be any good, but I’ll definitely try.

Things I will write !

• Any fluff and romantic stuff

• Reader inserts

• Angst-y stuff ( hope that’s the right word )

• SLIGHTLY suggestive stuff

Things I won’t write !

• Smut

• Inappropriate / illegal relationships ( looking at you, proshippers ʕ̡̢̡ʘ̅͟͜͡ʘ̲̅ʔ̢̡̢ )

• Any kind of romanticization of abusive relationships

Fandoms I’ll write for !

~ Marble Hornets

~ Creepypasta

i’ll probably update this later on but these are virtually my only interests rn so ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

°˖✧ ◝ Masterlist ◜ ✧˖°

DNI: TRANSPHOBES, HOMOPHOBES, RACISTS, PROSHIPPERS, ZOOS, MAPS, ETC.

icon and banner credits : b1deo + sickhoondr

(Note i don’t post often. I’m trying to find the motivation… it’s just difficult.)

[your-oddities]

I NEED MORE JAM FROM YOU!!! YOU WRITE IT SO WELL, LITERALLY JUST THE HEADCANONS MADE ME WANT TO READ MORE!!!

(Not forcing btw, I just need more Jam... THE SILLIES ARE TAKING OVER MY BRAIN, GET OUT OF MY SKIIIIIIN!)

( AUGHH sorry this took so long to respond i literally did NOT have the motivation to write anything until very recently 😭 )

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Late Night Chat

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Cautions: None! :)

Word count: <1k

• — — • — — • — — • — — • — — • — — • — — •

Only God and Father Time knew how late it was in Alabama that night. It was the midst of winter, meaning the nights felt ten times colder than the day without the sun to help warm anybody up. Which the citizens of Tuscaloosa had an open distain for.

Most lights in the motel rooms were out at that point — at least all the ones in Tim’s view. He sat on a rusty old bench in front of where he temporarily resided. The light was on inside, his roommate most likely clacking away at the computer. The only other light besides the one behind him was a nearby street lamp that illuminated next to nothing. The old, weak light casted long shadows across part of the narrowly empty parking lot.

An especially chilly gust of wind nipped at Tim’s nose as he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette. The winters in Alabama are surprisingly harsh. That much was evident when Tim had to put on three damn layers just to do something as simple as taking a smoke outside. And still, he shuddered occasionally. Truthfully, he was more than fine cracking open a window and smoking inside. But he‘d never force Jay to be subject to that.

And, not even a minute later, there came the man of the hour. The door to their crappy motel room creaked open rather loudly. Undoubtedly loud enough to earn Tim’s attention and look over at whoever it was — though it was no surprise to see Jay stepping outside. He adjusted the hem of his hoodie as if he just put it on before his gaze traveled to Tim.

“Hey.” Jay greeted Tim with a smile. Tim only nodded back once.

“Hey.” He paused to take a drag of his cigarette. Speaking up once the cigarette is pulled away from his lips, he tapped the ashes on the ground. “How late is it? I figured you’d be asleep by now.”

Jay shrugged and advanced towards the small black bench that Tim made himself comfortable on. “I could stay awake a bit longer. I need to finish up editing the next entry, anyway.” Tim hummed and his eyes followed Jay as he sat down on the bench a good foot away. They both stared out towards the parking lot, looking at nothing in particular for a while. Eventually Tim had enough courage to break the awkward silence.

“Then why aren’t you in there doing that?” An extended silence only interrupted by an overhead light buzzing and the constant sound of cars driving on the road beside the motel followed. The lack of answer almost made Tim think Jay didn’t hear him at all. But he finally spoke up after a second or ten too long. “Dunno,” Jay answered with a shrug. “Thought you could use the company.”

While the thought was endearing, Tim couldn’t help thinking it was a little stupid for Jay to not be resting up inside. Not that he’d ever tell him that. All Tim replied with is a quiet “ah” before looking elsewhere. With Tim not being one for conversation and Jay not liking to start any, the wordless seconds that followed suit were only natural. Even if Tim doesn’t mind prolonged silences all that much he can’t deny the lack of conversation got to him after a while. So he figured he’ll at least make an attempt at small talk. That’s what people typically do, right?

Turning to Jay, he was met with the sight of the man slowly nodding his head up and down to fight off sleep. Tim’s mouth — which he opened to rekindle the conversation — remained hanging for a moment before he shut it again. A sigh escaped him, showing a visible puff of air due to the frigid temperature. Jay didn’t seem to notice, or at the very least pay any mind, to Tim’s eyeballing. Tim examined his very sleepy roommate for an undetermined amount of time before acting upon his slight impulsivity.

Jay seemed suddenly reanimated when an arm is draped over his shoulder. Blinking his eyes open, he looks to Tim, whose face was adorned with the slightest grin. All it took was a beckoning tilt of Tim’s head to have Jay scooting over towards him. Now pressed against the other’s side, he leaned his head on Tim’s shoulder. Jay’s eyes were long shut when the feeling of Tim’s hand rubbing up and down his arm lulled him to sleep. The last, faintest memory was the soothing smell of cigarettes before he was out like a light.

• . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . •

Thanks for reading! ヾ(^_^)

first time writing in a while…. be gracious (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

[your-oddities]

☆ • Jam headcanons !! • ☆

(Spoilers , of course. Nothing too big though. So don’t fret!!)

-Jay’s hands are cold. Frigid. Zero circulation. So when Tim first found this out, he held Jay’s hands for five solid minutes until Jay had to get back to what video he was editing. Hand holding is now a regular thing for them.

-Tim has always had this need to feel independent. He just hates relying on someone else in fear of being a burden. So he feels somewhat guilty whenever Jay buys him anything. Too bad Jay’s love language is gift giving.

-Great segway into saying that Jay’s love language is gift giving, with physical touch being a close second. Tim prefers quality time. Though they make it work somehow.

-While they both get anxiety talking to strangers, Tim’s more than willing to go up to somebody for Jay. Especially if it’s someone that could potentially be connected with The Operator. Tim knows first hand how easily it is for Jay to rub someone the wrong way. He’s found it’s easier for him to take the reins in social situations.

-If Marble Hornets was in present day, Jay would send cute cat videos to Tim with the text “us?”

-Tim is a dry ass texter and Jay hates it. He’s already an over thinker, so Tim uses tone tags (specifically ‘/nm’) to assure Jay he isn’t upset or anything.

-Jay will always wear Tim’s clothes. He used to find the smell of cigarettes too much, but after meeting Tim, it brings him so much joy. Prompting him to wear Tim’s jackets often.

-Tim, of course, noticed the first couple of times.

“Is that my jacket?”

“…”

“..no.”

“? … okay.”

-He stopped trying after that.

-I headcanon them to both flail in their sleep. This leads up to many nights of them getting smacked in the face by one another.

-So, as much as they love each other’s company, they sleep in separate beds. Or with a pillow in between their sleeping bodies. It’s the only way for a night to not turn into an unconscious smack down.

-Tim can handle spicy food well, though Jay can’t. That doesn’t stop him from taking a bite of Tim’s spicy food at a restaurant often.

-Jay spits it out onto a napkin and chugs his entire water. Tim watches across from him, trying desperately not to laugh.

-Tim shaved his beard one time without telling Jay. Jay was left wondering why his boyfriend was in the bathroom for so long. After a few minutes, Tim emerges clean shaven.

-Took a while for Jay to get over grieving the lack of hair on his face. He’ll still wake up in the middle of the night — well after Tim has grown his beard out again — haunted by the image… /j

-Tim accidentally stumbled upon Jay’s yearbook once. Safe to say Jay never heard the end of it about his highschool haircut.

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Thanks for making it to the end!! Love you, reader. Take care. ♡

[your-oddities]

the urge to write a jam slow burn is strong……. sadly i don’t have the skills nor confidence for that

[your-oddities]

╭─────────.★..─╮

Detour

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Caution: Spoilers for Entry #61, violence (no stabbing or gun wounds), language, and uhhh that’s basically it. :3 !!

Word count: ~1.3k

• — — • — — • — — • — — • — — • — — • — — •

His gloved hand reaches for the bottom of the window and slowly, cautiously lifts up. It slides open with little to no resistance. He feels slightly confused as to why Tim didn’t bother lock his window, but with how his life is being flipped upside down, a small latch might be easy to overlook. Either way this bodes well for Hoody. He pushes the blinds out of the way just enough to set his camcorder down on the carpeted floor of Tim’s room. As much as he’d like to collect his loot and hide as quickly as possible, Hoody also recognizes that he must be quiet in order for this to pay off. So going slow would be in his best interest.

He slips into the room ever so carefully, picking up his camcorder as he steps inside. Tim’s room is quite the eyesore. The bed is messy and unmade. If Hoody hadn’t been keeping a close eye on Tim, he’d assume he just woke up from a night of heavy drinking. The unnecessarily high pitched buzzing of the overhead light adds a layer to the depressing feel in here. He holds the camera to catch every detail of Tim’s sad excuse of a bedroom. His gaze travels to his floor, where the beige carpet is decorated with miscellaneous colors thanks to the surprising amount of shirts and pants Tim never seemed to bother to put away. Or he just never had the motivation to. Tim’s never been a particularly organized man, though this place looks like it’s been robbed. Which is somewhat humorous to Hoody considering why he’s there. He didn’t come over just to pay his old friend a visit.

He treads quietly as he checks out the layout of Tim’s room. He first inspects the closet. He pushes some clothes aside to see just how much free space is in there. Seems to be just enough for Hoody to squeeze his way in if and when Tim makes his way back towards his room. Hoody makes sure to listen out for footsteps other than his own. He’d be royally screwed if he were caught.

Next Hoody creeps over to the nightstand beside the bed. On top sits a small, rectangular wooden box that looks to be conveniently out of place. The top comes off nice and easy, setting it down beside the container. He takes a look inside and near immediately snatches the orange tinted bottle. But his excitement quickly turns into disappointment as he realizes the small problem: it’s completely empty. Tossing the bottle back into its container out of pure anger, he looks around the room once more. Hoody knows Tim better than anyone. Surely he can find where he keeps his goddamn pills. It’s not like he hasn’t before.

He pans the camera around the room as his eyes look for every possibility as to what crevice a small orange bottle could possibly fit in. It’s not two seconds later he spots a tan wicker basket on top of the dark dresser in the corner of his room. The white of the bottle cap sticks out like a sore thumb against the muted color of the wall. Calling that hiding would be a stretch. They’ve both been in this same situation countless times. Hoody has managed to scout out his bottles in far more unusual places. But he doesn’t linger on the thought. All he needs is the pills and then leaving. So he trudges over to the basket and there they are. The white pills seem to have a warm hue to them due to the transparent color of the bottle itself. Now with the pills in sight, all he has to do is pocket it and hide. Holding the camera steady as possible, he films everything as his other hand grabs the pill bottle. It’s about half empty, though something is better than nothing. The rattling of the bottle is just enough to cover up the sound of a door creaking open behind him.

Hoody can’t help but feel satisfied while looking at the bottle in his hand. Though he doesn’t really have the time to relish in his pride. His fingers fiddle with the pocket of his jeans as he attempts to put the pills away. Though he’s soon cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him. He whips his head around, though it’s all a blur. Not a second later does a fist swiftly meet his cheek. His body follows his head and he stumbles to the side. He’s in so much shock he doesn’t react quite yet. Leaving Tim an open opportunity to have at it again.

A hand grasps at his mustard yellow hoodie and he’s yanked backwards, the pills and camcorder flying from his hands. He guesses Tim moved out of the way because next thing he knows his back meets the floor, knocking the air out of his lungs. He feels Tim getting on top of his body and holding him down with his weight. The combination of both leaves Hoody desperate for a breath. His hand flies to Tim’s neck while managing to only catch a shallow breath of air. He squeezes harder and harder until Tim can only let out a few pathetic gasps as he struggles to breathe. Tim’s own hands meet Hoody’s as he claws at the material of the glove. Though it’s in vain.

Hoody watches as Tim squirms with his hands around his neck. The sound of his own quickening heartbeat fills his ears, though it does little to cover his ragged breathing. Tim’s hand slips off only for his to ball it in a fist and his hand to collide with Hoody’s face, yelling weakly “Bastard!” he shouts as he, too, attempts to breathe again, drawing in quick gulps of air as he begs for oxygen.

Hoody’s quick to release Tim and lets out a pained groan. His free hand holds his nose due to the sharp burn. His mask starts to wet from the tears forming in his eyes. His vision blurs as he blinks away the tears. Soon the taste of copper covers his tastebuds. Hoody can feel his nose start to drip like a faucet.

Hoody can feel hands grab at his collar, glaring into his red, poorly bleached eyes. Hoody’s never considered him to be a violent man. But this scares the hell out of him. “Who the hell are you?” Tim yells — louder this time — at the man underneath him. All Hoody can do is muster some more strained groans.

Though not for long. Hoody’s other hand grasps Tim’s shirt and tugs him roughly to the side. Tim lands on the ground beside Hoody, a huff of air leaving him. Hoody scrambles to his feet as he tries to find the quickest way out of here. One that involves getting away from Tim. But Tim swiftly grabs his sleeve and tries to tug him back. However he’s cut off by coughs.

Loud, obnoxious coughs.

His grip loosens on Hoody’s sleeve as he covers his mouth, coughing like he’s on his death bed.

Hoody freezes for a moment. But just a moment. He’s left breathing heavily as Tim coughs like a chain smoker. Tim’s hand falls to the floor and his curls into a ball as the coughing becomes rougher. Like he’ll cough up a hairball. It doesn’t take half a second for the situation to click in Hoody’s head. Hoody frantically looks around before finding the pills lying a few feet away from him. He reaches out and pockets them. Glancing to Tim one last time, he just about books it to the window. He snags the camcorder that’s lying on the ground, catching one last shot of Tim as he writhes in pure agony. Hastily Hoody pushes the blinds out of his way. Near stumbling out of the room, he leaves Tim to deal with this himself. For now.

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Thank you for reading! ヾ(^_^)

Is it obvious I’ve never written a fighting scene before? lol

[your-oddities]

Spoilers for Entries #68 & 83 !!

small ramble about Brian / Hoody

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I break down absolutely SOBBING whenever I remember the fact that when Brian died he had a that tape in his pocket. On it, it had Brian and Tim’s audition for Marble Hornets.

Brian’s journey was undoubtedly lonely the moment he slipped on that mask. Once he was influenced by The Operator, he had no one and nothing. Nothing besides that tape he randomly rediscovered one day. Even though he lost Tim, Alex and everybody else he truly cared about, he had that tape. It was one of — if not the — last time he’ll ever get to see the people he loved so dearly be ‘normal’ again. Unaffected by everything that came about later on.

I can imagine Brian sitting on the dusty mattress with at least twenty broken or almost broken springs in his third abandoned building that month. Alex made it impossible to be able to stay in place for too long. At least that place had something proper to sleep on. Mask in hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the tape. He held it in front of his face as he inspected it like he hasn’t done that same thing a million times over. Though it’s label was unreadable (mainly because of the smudges and it being mostly peeled off by that point) and looked like every other tape someone might find in their basement, there’s no other tape like that one. It’s not some home video or stupid attempt at finding a ghost, no. That tape held a vast amount of memories that nobody could recreate. Just looking at the dusty, worn thing, he remembered all the late nights he spent talking with Tim about nothing in particular. All the times Alex let Brian copy off his notes because he was too busy doodling.

With a solemn expression, Brian slips the tape back into his pocket. Maybe when he builds up the courage, he’ll watch the tape again. Though he knows it won’t do him any good to dwell upon the past.

[your-oddities]

Marble Hornets headcanons !!

but 1/4 of this stuff are just habits i have.

this is due to the fact these characters are literally me.

Jay:

-If a fast food employee gets his order wrong, he’ll do everything in his power to make sure it’s not fixed. Not because he doesn’t care. He just hates having to bother minimum wage workers.

-When he was young he used to cough obnoxiously whilst walking past smokers to make them feel bad. He did this a handful of times with Tim in a couple hotel rooms. But Tim didn’t notice. Or ignored him. Jay never knew which.

-He bumps into EVERYTHING. No spacial awareness at all.

-He has quite few jackets in his closet. Most of them are the exact same because he found one he really liked then just bought like five. neurodivergent boy say what!??!!1!1!

-If you give him pointers or constructive criticism he’ll take them way too personally and feel like he did something wrong. Like really wrong. It’s really not a big deal. To him it is.

-Isn’t superstitious at all. That being said, that one lucky charm he got from an old friend always seems to find itself in his pocket.

-Very sentimental.

Tim:

-Definitely had to be a “he ordered no pickles” kind of guy when he and Jay were out sharing hotel rooms.

-Avoid confrontation at all cost. Unless it’s completely necessary, he just won’t do it. Someone could cuss him out and he’d just stand there wondering how to get out of the situation.

-Honestly… love you Tim, but I imagine his personality to be pretty stale. He never had real good social interaction until Brian came along, meaning not until college. He finds it hard to get past small talk with people he’s recently met.

-If you take him to a Starbucks or something and ask him what he wants he’ll say “uhh.. coffee??”

-Says his favorite band is something like Metallica or Green Day. And don’t get him wrong, he likes those. But he’ll die for The Smiths.

-Never cared about style. Ever. Did you see what he had on in entry #9??

-Still loves his mom. He places some blame on her of course, but he could never bring himself to hate his mother. He knows he was and still is messed up mentally. She handled it best she knew how.

-Uses reading glasses whenever he’s trying to read something on his flip phone. That was until iPhones came out and he got rid of his old phone.

Alex:

-Everybody knows that during Marble Hornets man couldn’t for the life of him chill. He was always angry. But that’s definitely the influence of The Operator. He was actually a really sweet and funny guy pre-MH. Yes, he had his angry moments, but who doesn’t??

-Unless you’re using the most sarcastic tone ever, he can’t understand it. But he’s extremely sarcastic himself. Of course he always tries to make it very clear.

-THICK LENSES. Like bro. Took his parents until he was about five and bumping into absolutely everything to go get his eyes checked.

-Living standing emoji. He didn’t discover putting his hands in his pockets until after he dropped Marble Hornets.

-Watches fiction movies then criticizes the parts that aren’t realistic.

-“Why would you pull that piece of glass out of your leg?? Keep it in until you can see a doctor!” “Alex we’re watching a movie about an alien invasion.”

-Did I mention he speaks to the characters on screen like they’re actually there?

-Denies he’s the dad of the group (he is).

Brian:

-The silly. But we already knew that.

-Extremely social. Extrovert to the max. Doesn’t love parties, but he’ll go to just about any other social event.

-He doesn’t have any idea what personal space is. He’ll hug, pat your back, or just give you small bits of affection every three seconds. Unless someone asks him to stop, of course. It’s just his go-to.

-Actually, Brian’s openness to physical affection is the main reason Tim became good friends with him. He didn’t get a lot of love when he was a child, so it’s something he’s come to crave. And Brian welcomes it with open arms, literally!!

-Loves (most) bitter food. He’ll defend dark chocolate with his life. But he can’t handle black coffee.

-He bit his nails for years on end. When he learned how insanely unsanitary it is, he stopped immediately. Now he just picks at them.

-He’s never not had a dog. Except for that one time he had a ferret.

-Feeds the alley cats. He just loves animals so much. That’s why his parents thought he was gonna be a veterinarian when he grew up.

lil extra stuff abt their sexualities and whatnot!!

Jay - Gay, though that’s basically canon. Aroace but he’s not repulsed by relationships by any means. Romantic or sexual. He’s had his fair share of boyfriends and girlfriends before he found out he dislikes titties. He/him.

Tim - Doesn’t really bother with labels. He knows he likes girls as well as guys, so he just tells everybody he’s queer. He also doesn’t exactly announce this to anybody but his close friends, but he’s demisexual + romantic. He/him but he won’t correct you if you use anything else.

Alex - Born a girl. He was a girl for years because that’s just what everybody called him. Then he watched SheZow when he was like seven and went “whoa… people can change genders??” Years down the line and a bunch of long conversations with close friends lead him to identify as a boy when he was a junior in high school. Of course he got bullied relentlessly for it, so he didn’t actually transitioning until after school. I mean, literally. After the last day of senior year he picked up testosterone for the first time ever. He/they.

Brian - To me, he’s definitely pansexual. He doesn’t care about the parts. Personality is the one thing that matters to him. When he first got into college, he learned what non-binary means and he experimented with a couple different gender labels. But he settled on being demiboy. Any pronouns.