@jollysunflora : The second half of my complete list of modern AU Animorphs headcanons, approximately one per book.
28. “Ax,” Marco says, “How come you can roll out ‘venti dulce de leche dark-chocolate frappuchino extra whip’ without batting an eye, but you giggle every time you have to say the word ‘soy’?”
“It has so many vowel—owl?—sounds, in so little space,” Ax says. “That long sssssssssss, so pleasant on the tongue, but then that odd oooyyy ooy-yah? All in the back of the mouth. Very strange. Sssoooy. Ssususs-oooyaaa.”
“Also, he’s moved on from the frappuchinos,” Tobias adds. “Now he keeps spending all our hard-stolen bitcoins on espresso mack… mach…”
“Espresso macchiato con panna,” Ax explains. “Doppio.”
29. Cassie feels herself sweating as she props the laptop across the room from her, tools laid out and Ax unconscious on the table. She never expected to find a YouTube video on how to perform brain surgery—and to be honest, it’s actually about “how neurosurgeons perform an orbitozygomatic craniotomy,” not intended to be a how-to manual—but it’s the best she can do under the circumstances, and so she’ll follow along for now.
MM3. “That’s the kind of strong leadership we need.” Jake gestures to the full-color television (this year’s latest model) where a program of their current leader plays on a loop. “Keeping the wrong kind of people out of this country, saving America for the right kind of Americans.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rachel says. She and Tobias and Jake are the only three Animorphs, except when Melissa joins them sometimes, and listening to their “Supreme Leader” blather on gets old sometimes. “All I want to know is whether it’s true that within a few years people will really have phones that plug into their cars. That’d be cool.”
Tobias rubs his eyes against the silk of his wing feathers. They itch constantly, since he doesn’t have a gas mask to wear every time he goes out into the pollution-opaque air outside the way that his human friends do. Jake and Rachel take bets sometimes, idly, brutally, about whether he’s the last raptor left on the face of the planet.
“Magnificent!” Drode appears in their midst, and both the Berensons immediately point guns at his head.
30. Marco is lying on his bed the day after watching Eva fall, staring at a patch of wall above his dresser, when he registers that his phone has been buzzing for a while now. It goes off so many times he assumes he has to be getting a call, but when he checks his notifications he just discovers he’s gotten seventeen text messages in the last hour.
The first is from “Smurfette,” and says “Did you know that there is a type of food that involves baking a cinnamon bun inside of a donut? We must secure as many of these as it is possible for a human to consume, as soon as possible!”
The next one, from “Hawkgirl,” reads: “found out recently that apparently ax still thinks you invented flea powder. i told him that if youd invented flea powder wed all be a lot richer right now.”
“Team Dad” (not to be confused with “Real Dad,” which is how Marco lists Peter) sent along several invitations to team missions on League of Legends this afternoon, along with a threat to have Cassie play Marco’s avatar if Marco doesn’t join in. “we both know that by the time you get back you’ll have only healing attacks and she’ll have trained it to apologize automatically for stabbing people,” Jake adds.
One of the many texts from “Julia Butterfly Hill” suggests that Jake has underestimated Cassie’s diabolical streak, because it’s a screenshot of a clone of his account which has had its name changed to HarambeWasFramed.
The real surprise, however, is the single text from “Xena: Warrior Princess.” It’s a link to an article about a disaster in the local national park and the efforts to clean up the wreckage of an as-yet-unidentified craft which went down in the canyon. Marco has to read it a few times to understand the point she’s making, because it’s all about what’s not there: the article makes no mention of any human bodies being found among the wreckage.
Marco gets halfway through typing a reply to them all which informs them in no uncertain terms that he sees through their transparent attempts to cheer him up and doesn’t appreciate it, but he deletes without sending. He can practically hear his mom’s voice saying it: he can focus on the fact that he’s still surrounded by people who love him, or he can focus on the negative side of everything. And being constantly negative is no way to live.
31. “Sharing this again, because its been 3 months,” Jake’s cousin Brooke posts on Facebook. “Anyone who has any news at all about Saddler, no matter what it is, PLEASE contact my family. Big brother, I dont know if youre still out there, but I miss you. I miss you like crazy.”
Jake turns up his Spotify’s Offspring channel a little louder to drown out the sounds of Tom and his dad shouting at each other downstairs. His eyes flinch past Brooke’s post, but they can’t move fast enough to prevent the thought that flashes across the surface of his mind: Is this going to be me a year from now?
32. Tobias texts Rachel and Jake an article from Audubon.Org, where several birdwatchers are going into ecstasies of scientific fascination at the bald eagle and peregrine falcon seen flying in close formation in a cell-phone video taken near a highway overpass downtown. His only comment is, “Told you so.”
33. In the aftermath, Rachel does a Google search: “PTSD treatment symptoms outcomes.” She reads through the WebMD site, the NIMH page, the Wikipedia link to a DSM-5 entry. She thinks of Tobias’s withdrawn silences, his antipathy toward so much they used to enjoy, but she thinks of other things as well. How exhausted Jake seems any time they’re not on-mission. How badly Cassie flinches when the school bell rings and doors slam. How Ax seems to be gradually losing interest in the things—cooking shows, new condiments, human history trivia, These Messages—that once drew his fascination. How last week Marco flicked an ant off the back of his hand and then went white like he’d just kicked a puppy. How good it had felt when she’d hurt David, spreading the pain around, giving it back.
She catches an Uber to the clinic downtown, filling out forms in the waiting room based on the checklist written on her phone for “how to get tobias an ssri”: Yes, she often feels tense and worried. Yes, her heart often races for no reason. No, she hasn’t thought of ending her life. No, she doesn’t feel out of control when she eats.
She gets as far as developing a cover story—it’s about how she’s never felt the same since her parents’ divorce—but in the hallway to the office she panics and calls Cassie. “Am I doing the right thing?” she asks, after she’s explained.
Cassie is silent for a long time, never a good sign. “I’m not sure an SSRI would work on a bird,” she says at last, “and that’s even if we could figure out a dose that would work without killing him. I know you want to help, and I think you should, but…”
Rachel hears what she’s not saying: but what if her mom asks too many questions? But is this risk really worth it? But what if the psychiatrist (the receptionist, the pharmacist) is a controller? But isn’t it them, and only them, against the world, and isn’t that just how it has to be?
“The war won’t last forever,” Cassie says weakly, and Rachel hates her a little for it. “When it’s over, when we get to tell everyone what’s happening…”
Rachel hangs up. She goes home, morphs, and flies out to the woods.
«You know I love you, right?» she asks Tobias later that evening.
«Of course I do.» He sounds exhausted. She’s never felt more helpless in her life.
34. The Yeerk Peace Movement, as it comes out, has a Twitter feed. It is rather painfully obvious that it has been set up and run entirely by aliens who are doing their very best to communicate with humans, and not quite succeeding. Most of the posts are couplets, for some reason that none of the Animorphs can fathom.
“Want to be On Fleek? When you see someone’s rights threatened, speak!”
“Don’t be a Belieber anymore - end slavery and even the score.”
“#tbt: Remember when we were symbiotes? Give taxxon freedom your sympathy votes!”
“Nickelback is super lame, and keeping involuntary hosts is just the same.”
“Respect your host’s rights today, and make your human into your bae!”
35. It’s Marco who comes up with the idea for how to take down William Roger Tennant. This is a guy, after all, whose cockatiels have their own Instagram account: he runs his fame on the internet.
“It’s simple,” Marco explains. “We start a hashtag—#notsonicetennant—and we make it go viral. All we have to do is film this guy everywhere he goes, and eventually the yeerk will slip up.”
It proves not to be simple after all. Their gif of Tennant twitching madly mid-EPA speech gets overshadowed by the news story about One Direction nearly getting poisoned with spiders at the same banquet. Ax does not understand the concept of hashtag, and keeps adding #notsonicetennant to his retweets of what Marco calls “food porn.” They train one of Tobias’s repurposed GoPros to follow poodle-Marco, but that becomes a meme mocking the world’s most obnoxious stray dog rather than Tennant himself.
The plan finally, finally comes off when they pull out all the stops and just confront him in morph. The smartphones that Rachel rigged up in the surrounding buildings don’t pick up the thought speak, but the audio of Tennant screaming at the aliens to leave him alone comes through just fine.
When the scandal breaks, the internet (in truly predictable fashion) drops #notsonicetennant and starts using #tennantgate instead.
Ax reposts an old photo of Tennant eating a quinoa salad—zoomed in on the salad—and tags it #tennantgate. All of his teammates assure him they appreciate the attempt.
36. “All right, that’s just weird,” Marco says, looking at the final entry in the underwater creepshow they’ve been walking through for the past hour. “All the other ships have been getting more modern as we’ve gone, but this one? Looks like it was made in the sixties, at the latest.”
«The world’s creepiest museum curators are getting sloppy with the placement of bodies as well,» Tobias points out. «There’s no way that many people could fit on a boat that small. They’re practically falling over the sides.»
Jake and Cassie look at each other, seeing the same realization reflected in each other’s eyes. Neither one of them wants to say it out loud.
Jake becomes the one to bite the bullet. “Don’t you get it?” He points to the ragged clothes, the emaciated bodies, the modern smartphone tucked in among the antiquated radio equipment. “They were refugees.”
37. Rachel shuts the window on the library computer as soon as she hears someone walk into the room, but she can tell she was too late by the look on Jake’s face when she turns around.
“Roy Ludvig, huh?” Jake says. “Heck of a name.”
“He was at the T.V. studio when we attacked.” Rachel looks down, picking at her nail polish. “No civilians were supposed to be in danger.”
Jake’s expression softens, as much as it ever does. “And now you’re scrolling through his Facebook, looking for something that’ll let you sleep at night.”
“He’s got a grandson,” Rachel blurts. “Jordan’s age. He…” She shrugs. He’s dead, and it’s more or less her fault.
“Shouldn’t be looking on Facebook.” Jake sets his phone on the library table next to her, taps the screen to bring up an official-looking report. “You should be, say, borrowing my dad’s computer. Sending an email from his account to ask for the guy’s medical records. If you had, you’d know that Mr. Roy Ludvig had a heart condition. That he had maybe a year to live, at most, and doctors said he might die at any old time.”
Rachel looks down at the report for a long time, and eventually looks up at Jake. “Doesn’t make it okay, what I did,” she says. “He’s still dead.”
Jake shrugs. “You don’t have to forget it ever happened, but you do have to live with it. Live, and fight another day.”
38. In the aftermath of Estrid’s visit, Tobias is flying over the boardwalk when he sees a henna artist who clearly smokes way too much pot to be a Yeerk. He gets Ax, they morph human, and both get henna tattoos of Elfangor’s name. (Ax had previously expressed an admiration for the human tradition of commemorating a lost loved one by making markings on one’s body.) They know the tats will disappear when they demorph, but they’re both glad they did it. The artist asks how long they’ve been together, and Tobias says in a scandalized voice, “he’s my UNCLE!” Thus, Tobias succeeds in both of his goals: making Ax laugh, and reminding him he has family here on Earth. Honestly, the reminder doesn’t hurt Tobias either.
39. “You know, not all squirrels are like that,” Marco is fond of saying after a morph goes wrong. “Not all termites are horrifying worker drones.” Sometimes it’s, “You know, some of my best friends are fleas.”
It’s Cassie, however, who gets the last laugh out of that one. «You know, Marco,» she says as they swim away from the wreckage of the helicopter, «Not all ants are like that, right? I shouldn’t say that all ants are killers, right?»
Marco stares at her in silence while the others snicker, watching him war between the two impulses: to keep the joke going forever, and to express his honest hatred of ants.
«Come on.» And now Rachel has joined in on the teasing. «You’re just going to let that kind of besmirching of the ant community stand?»
«Okay, okay!» Marco gives in. «Ants suck. Yes, all ants!»
40. “Our experts have examined the video extensively, and near as we can conclude, this footage is genuine and unedited,” the newscaster says. “Given how viral this video has proven to be, with over two million views since it was posted to YouTube on Wednesday, everyone wants to know: is this footage proof that aliens exist? Is this a publicity stunt for the upcoming Fantastic Beasts sequel? Or, as one YouTube commenter asks, did a Smurf just have sex with a centaur?”
«Potential new ally?» Tobias suggests. He’s already tapping out a search for the original video in his modified tablet.
Ax laughs. «Of course not. He’s crippled. A vecol. Useless. We must respect the privacy of his isolation.»
“You know what? Fuck that,” Marco snaps. He shoves to his feet, posture tight with anger. “Just… Fuck that,” he tells Ax. “I have ADHD. Attention Deficit whateverthefuck. I take a pill every morning to help me function because my brain isn’t good enough to filter stimuli all by itself. I got a fucking 135 on the world’s most boring IQ test and I’m still failing half my classes. I’m a vecol. You think I’m useless, huh? You gonna start refusing to talk to me because of some bullshit about ‘respecting’ my ‘privacy’? Huh?”
«That’s different,» Ax says. «You’re not…» He doesn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence.
«If he’s an exception, I hope I am too,» Tobias says more gently. «I got screened for anxiety disorders as a kid, and I guess we’ll never know if I qualify or not, ‘cause my aunt decided that doctors cost money and if the test said I needed one then she didn’t want to know about it.»
Ax doesn’t answer for a long time. He doesn’t seem to know where to look.
«Let’s go tell the others what we found.» Tobias taps a button to send the video to himself. «We can talk more about this later.»
MM4. Tobias flinches when his phone makes the small ping sound that means he has an alert. The new kid is the easy target in every school on the planet. He wonders what it’ll be this time: another Facebook post where the semi-anonymous account Toby IsALoser tags him in another meme about how he has to pay people for sex because the sight of his body would make any normal girl run away screaming, another unnamed Instagram ping telling him he should kill himself so that no one has to look at his stupid fat face anymore, another Snapchat image of a puddle of vomit with the caption “me when I think of you,” an email with the most disgusting gif anyone could find after a quick search…
It’s not, though. It’s an invite to join a private Facebook group, called The Sharing, with several hundred local members. Most of the names Tobias recognizes are cool older kids from the high school. Intrigued, willing to trust for the moment that this isn’t some ridiculously elaborate prank, Tobias clicks “join.”
41. Jake looks around at the enormous open field, concrete pitted with openings and low hovels of corrugated steel and rebar. He can see for nearly half a mile in every direction before the smog makes it impossible, and the tallest things around are the hunched hork-bajir. “Where are we?” he asks.
Cassie frowns. “This? Jake, this is downtown Manhattan.”
He gapes at her. “What happened to it?”
“Tall buildings are targets for drone strikes,” she says casually, turning away. “The only way to be safe was to go underground.”
42. Marco doesn’t bother going to the house of the guy who photographed them, nor does he try to catch the kid before he uploads the video anywhere. Instead he waits for the image to appear on YouTube, then becomes the first commenter. “Sweet manip!” he says. “Is that Photoshop, or can you do that in free programs like Gimp?”
43. “EarthIsOurs-dot-tumblr-dot-com?” Marco says incredulously. “What does Taylor do there, post pictures of her pet taxxon? Reblog plans for planetary domination?”
«Judging from her archive history, she’s had this blog for many years,» Ax says. «She recently changed the domain name, but some of the content on here is from as early as 2008.»
Jake and Marco get caught up in debating with Cassie about what exactly to send to her, but Tobias just scrolls quietly through Taylor’s old posts. She didn’t lie about being beautiful, he realizes, or about being popular. There’s a long blank period in her tumblr account in mid-2014. And then she posted one selfie—just one—after the fire.
He can’t bring himself to read the names that the trolls call her, or the discussions about how much money they’d have to be paid to have sex with her. But there’s no overlooking the suggestions that she kill herself. The posts are too numerous, too vitriolic.
“Every chick ever to wander onto the internet has gotten that crap,” Rachel says; clearly she’s been reading over his shoulder. “She should’ve developed thick skin, not joined the Sharing.”
Tobias thinks of the Facebook page made at his old school just to discuss the fact that he’s a chubby zit-face, of the posts which eventually overwhelmed his Instagram with death threats. «Yeah, I guess,» he says.
44. It takes a long time for Cassie to get home from Australia, but at least they’re not too worried for most of that time; she texts them her location and a brief description of the insanity that landed her in the Outback as soon as she gets in contact with Yami’s family.
45. “None of this makes any sense,” Peter says. “I’m hallucinating, or you’re delusional, or else—”
Marco sets his phone in Peter’s lap. “Check the timestamp, Dad. I took that six months ago.”
Peter stares at the phone for a long minute, and then slowly looks up at Marco. At a clear loss for words, he tilts his head back toward the screen.
“I know.” Marco laughs, the sound wet with tears. “That blond wig looks terrible on her. But it’s really her, Dad. I swear.”
46. “So they’re going to get the U.S. embroiled in another war,” Marco says. “And this one with a country that can actually fight back.”
«Seems like,» Tobias says. «Only why bother with all the secrecy and political wrangling? Why not just send a couple mean tweets to Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un? That’d probably do the job just as well.»
“No, it wouldn’t.” Jake runs a hand through his hair, looking around at them all. “The yeerks need a total war. Everything the U.S. and its allies can pull out, against everything China and its allies can muster. Our military has gotten too used to sending drones to fight its wars, to ‘tactical strikes’ against insurgents. If the yeerks want half the species annihilated, they have to do a lot more than poke a couple of egos.”
47. “News flash,” Marco says. “Your average suburbanite ain’t gonna accept a seven-foot-tall alien for a neighbor. You know the number of times my mom’s been asked for proof of citizenship before she was allowed to vote or cash a paycheck or buy a car? How many times she’s been pulled over by cops while driving the speed limit with her seatbelt on? And she’s a regular old human being. Toby’s right—the hork-bajir have a whole other fight coming if we ever win the war.”
48. Rachel feels the blood drain from her face when she opens the Facebook message and sees the name attached. David’s Facebook account has been defunct for almost two years now; there’s no one left who would want or even be able to access it from the outside. Should be no one.
Miss me? the message from David’s account says.
Who are you? she types with shaking fingers. What do you want?
I know what you did. I’m coming for you. I’ve got friends all over the place and they’ll find you. They’ll kill you. Amazing the allies you can get, when you know where the bodies are kept. On the internet, no one knows you’re a—
Rachel hits “block.” She tells herself that the screaming nightmares she has all that night and into the next are the product of having a stressful life, she’s an Animorph for pete’s sake.
She doesn’t stop shuddering every time she gets a message for the next two weeks, but she never hears from whoever (It wasn’t David. It couldn’t have been.) it was ever again.
49. They stagger away from yet another hopeless fight, all of them injured, half of them missing limbs or bleeding to death. Dragging their damaged bodies behind the first dumpster they find, they demorph, remorph, and force their minds to focus long enough for the long flight home. It’s only when Rachel is in owl morph, staring around the dimly lit alleyway, that she sees the security camera pointed directly at their location.
«They must not check it that often,» Marco says without much hope. «Or else they’d be out here already to come looking for us.»
«Doesn’t matter,» Tobias says harshly. «It had a perfectly clear view of all your human faces. And that building is owned by the yeerks.»
They all stare at each other in dull shock as the realization sinks in. They always knew this moment was coming—they could only be so careful for so long—and yet, on some level each of them hoped it never would.
«Take one more night to be with your families,» Jake says at last. «We evacuate everyone in the morning.»
Jake loses his phone, again, somewhere amidst all the chaos. This time around he doesn’t bother to replace it. It’s not like his mom is going to be wondering where he is, not anymore.
50. “So,” Jake says, “this is going to sound crazy, but—”
“Aliens are invading the planet, and you’re the only kid terrorist who can stop them?” James suggests. “We do have wifi up here, you know. You’re Jake Berenson, right? You’re all over the conspiracy theorists’ forums right now.”
“Um.” Jake runs a hand through his hair, starts again. “Yeah, pretty much.”
James nods. “In that case, you’ve got thirty seconds to convince me your story’s not a load of crap before I call security.”
51. Ax secures their wifi in something a billion times better-hidden than Tor. With that reassurance, they all end up starting blogs.
Marco’s is a rambling string of wry comments about everything from the invasion to his parents’ science projects. Sample post: “Insider source (aka my mom): Visser Three has morphed human and eaten AN ENTIRE BAG OF MARSHMALLOWS in one sitting, ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION. Pass it on!”
Jake’s is the place that people go to find out how they can help, and to get his reassurance that the help means something. Sample post: “As Barack Obama says, ‘We the people recognize that we have responsibilities as well as rights; that our destinies are bound together; that a freedom without a commitment to others is unworthy of our founding ideals, and those who died in their defense.’ This fight will never be over just as long as we keep supporting each other. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you all for the KickStarter donations.”
Rachel’s has beauty tips for the American girl on the run, light and self-deprecating enough that you often don’t notice the undercurrent of desperation. Sample post: “If you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror, try fixing your hair using reflective surfaces such as pots, ponds, or pieces of Bug fighter wreckage. Alternately, just say ‘fuck it’ and never look at yourself again.”
Cassie’s tells people how to stay safe, and how to keep their environments safe as well. Sample post: “Everyone please remember, it’s important to stock enough food and water for family pets as well as humans when retreating to an apocalypse bunker!”
Tobias’s has a lot of good-natured grumbling about everyday life in the valley. Sample post: “In other news, my girlfriend’s mom is currently arguing with the smartest being on the face of the planet about where to put the new latrine facilities. Sorry Naomi, but my money’s on Toby.”
Ax’s has a lot of food reviews, of course, but again there’s that undercurrent of desperation, almost like he’s trying to convince someone else (or maybe even himself) that humans are worth saving. Sample post: “Marco assures me that there are no less than 23 distinct flavors contained within every sip of Dr. Pepper. Just think of the years of experimentation and innovation it must have required to produce a drink which can inspire 23 different reactions from human taste buds, all at the same time. Truly inspired genius.”
52. They run drills upon drills for what to do in case of a drone strike. Using any morphs they have that can dig or build—mole, taxxon, elephant, beaver—the Animorphs create an extensive network of tunnels and shelters, posting guards at all times to keep their eyes on the sky. The hork-bajir valley doesn’t show up on satellite imagery, which they only know thanks to Peter’s definitely-illegal fact-gathering missions on the darkweb, but they don’t know for sure whether an overhead camera would be subject to the same strange perceptual distortions they all experience when flying there as birds. They nearly lose their precious secrecy when Naomi sends several emails from her work account, claiming she’s being held hostage and asking anyone who will listen to come rescue her. Eva generates a hasty follow-up from the same account asking people to ignore “the prank that I now realize was in poor taste,” but none of them are sure it worked for the next several days.
53. Rachel makes one last post on her nearly-extinct Instagram account. This time the scrap of paper she uses appears to be torn from the back of a food label, but the penciled script is as intricate as ever. It reads “Who wants to live forever? —Freddie Mercury, 1986”
54. After it’s all over, Tobias retreats, he hides, but he keeps a thread of communication open. Cassie shoots him an email with the subject line “Hawk patient with intermittent aggression and lethargy—any idea what could be causing it?” Marco sends him idiotic memes that now feature the Animorphs’ names and faces. Ax asks for constant updates on the new wing of Taco Bell being built downtown, and repays the favor by leaking confidential information about the search for the Blade ship.
And then he gets one of the stranger emails he’s ever received. It’s an offer of a full legacy scholarship to Harvard University (which has just found the means to explain some inconsistencies in the records of one “Alan Fangor,” who graduated in the ‘80s) in exchange for Tobias teaching one class per semester on any subject of his choice. He agrees, with the stipulation that all his classes be online.
The resultant course (Ornithology 442: An Insider’s Perspective) is like nothing the students who participate have ever seen before. Tobias will write out rambling treatises on Why Blue Jays Suck or All the Ways Hawks Are Superior to Eagles with a thought-speak-to-text recorder. He’ll deliver online lectures from a shaky webcam pointed into a nonspecific tree, occasionally wandering off for hours at a time to go hunting. Students who ask him personal questions about Rachel get regurgitated mouse skeletons Fed-Exed to their campus mailboxes. Essays that don’t demonstrate much effort get feedback such as “even I can tell this sucks and I have a seventh-grade education” or “my grandmother could make better sentences than this AND SHE’S AN ANDALITE WHO DOESN’T SPEAK ENGLISH.” Assignments include “find one bird fact in a textbook and explain why it’s a load of crap” or “go film a Boston pigeon until it does something interesting, I dare you.”
Nevertheless, enrollment is so popular that Harvard has a three-year waiting list and charges students an extra $500 just to sign up. When Tobias finds out about the extra fee, he promptly video-calls the Intrepid, gives Ax remote access to his computer, and explains why he needs Ax to convert the course illegally to a MOOC. Harvard University fires him for breach of contract; Yale hires him on that very same afternoon.
•liam and ruby were always the ones to roll their eyes at the posts online like “so glad to spend the rest of my life with my best friend” like how corny can u get but what did they do as soon as they were engaged? post the same damn things smh
•"i want a divorce so i can marry you again"
•one night ruby wakes up to find liam staring at her and she’s like ??? and he whispers back “i woke up and remembered you’re my wife and got too excited and now i can’t sleep” what a NERD
•at their wedding he trips on something and goes down hard and immediately looks at ruby and goes “even after we’re married i’m still falling for you darlin ;)’” she threatens divorce
•ruby is such a covers hoarder it’s ridiculous so when they get married she’s like “now you’re stuck with me so i can steal the covers all i want” so liam starts playing the game of how many blankets can i add in the night before she gets too hot and stops stealing them. her record is 12.
•once you have pneumonia you’re more susceptible to getting it again so liam who catches pneumonia again on the 3rd day of their honeymoon and ruby who goes out of her mind with worry because she’ll be damned if she’s a widow at 23
•alternately ruby and liam enjoying their honeymoon so much they stay an extra few days because who’s gonna stop em?? you want me to come into work sorry i’m across the country can’t do it. they led a revolution let them have this.
•the do not disturb card stays on their door the whole time they’re on their honeymoon
•vida gets mad at them because “really??? you’re going on a tropical vacation just to have sex in your hotel room the whole time? what the hell you can have sex here. at least go have sex on the beach or something”
•chubs tells them “if you come home pregnant i’m going to make fun of you for being a stereotype the rest of your life” and ruby’s just like “that’s fair”
•eventually it’s ruby who makes them go back home because she misses their dog
•they’re OBNOXIOUS about the whole “this is my WIFE ruby because we’re married and i love her and she’s my WIFE” thing
•once he calls her Mrs Stewart he’s like…ugh no that makes me think of my mom so it has to be ruby stewart when they’re tryna be cute
•like don’t get me wrong he still loves mrs stewart it’s lit just not when they’re being romantic it’s hard to go down on someone right after thinking about your mom it’s kind of a mood killer
•"ooh babe you had a crush on me that’s so embarrassing"
•okay so i headcanon that after the camps are liberated liam works for a company that finds homes for kids whose parents didn’t want them back/were killed/ can’t be found/ etc and when he brings up kids with ruby she’s like “you work with kids all day aren’t u tired of children wtf”
•one time liam has to go to some government meeting that was supposed to end at a certain time and he’s asked to stay later and his response is “no, our agreement was 6 o'clock, my wife has dinner ready and i hate it here. Goodbye.”
•their texts are a compilation of funny dog videos and 3 word questions only they can decipher
•one time on ruby’s day off she hears liam leave in the morning, raises an eyebrow, looks at the clock on the wall and counts the seconds before the door opens again and he runs back in because he forgot to kiss her goodbye
After the lunch, Aria and Amelia spent the rest of the day planning a way to convince their mother to fly out to San Francisco within the week. Aria hated Miranda, she was loud and high pitched and extremely obnoxious. Even the dog eyed her suspiciously. She noticed the glares that the dark haired woman would send her whenever her father left the room, uttering words that started with ‘Listen up you little rat,’. Lillian watched on amused knowing that Archie would leave her the moment herself and Amelia told him about her behaviour whenever she left the room.
Lillian strongly believed that Archie and (Y/N) would be reunited soon. She had never seen a couple so in love with each other even at a young age. No love was meant to end like that.
“Aria, how do we convince mom to fly out to San Francisco for Saturday? It’s near impossible.”
Aria smirked as she saw her auntie Betty and auntie Veronica approach the house next door from her bedroom window. “Give me a minute, Mel, I’ll call back soon.” she spoke, throwing her phone on to the bed and rushing downstairs. Aria was aware that her plan could go wrong but there was no other way. She knew that these two women would be able to convince her mum.
“Auntie Betty! Auntie Veronica! Wait!” she said, out of breath from running. The two women looked at each other and at the girl that now stood before them.
“Aria?” Betty asked, the confusion in her voice was clear and it made Veronica chuckle. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story, I’m guessing?” Veronica raised her eyebrow at the younger girl “Come inside, tell us all about it.”
“Well, you see, I met Amelia at camp. At first I thought she was really, really annoying but then we got sent to solitary confinement and she found that picture of dad that mum gave me.” Aria explained, looking up at the two women. Both their expressions held a look of confusion and worry, which made her laugh a little. “And then we did a little digging, she had the other half of the picture. Then I realised, that she was the child in the picture with my father. I had always assumed it was her. Then we decided to swap places.”
“So why are you telling us this? Do you want to go home? I can call your mom.” Betty said, the confusion in her voice previously had been replaced with worry, her expression had become softer and she looked at Aria with a frown that made her worry come through more clearer.
“No, it’s not that! Amelia and I, well, mainly me, want mum and dad to reunite and thats where I need your help.” Veronica instantly shook her head causing Aria to pout “Please auntie Ronnie! I’m begging. I don’t want dad to marry obnoxious Miranda. Even Toby doesn’t like her and he likes everyone!”
“Wait a minute, what do you mean your dad is marrying Miranda? Who is she?” Veronica asked.
Kevin picked up the grape before throwing it at the couple that sat before him. “You guys make me sick.” he said, before repeating his previous actions, making (Y/N) roll her eyes at her friend.
“Aren’t you used to them by now, Keller? They’ve been like this since forever.” Cheryl said, making the group look up at her. “They’re,” she paused for a while “Cute.” Her tone was filled with disgust. Making Veronica laugh slightly. ‘No one actually asked for your opinion’ she thought.
“You know, I think the day you two stop being like this, the day the world ends. You two have been together since we were in grade school. Now we’re freshmen and you guys are still going strong! I mean Jason Blossom has been after you, (Y/N), since before you and Archibald got together. It’s nuts!” Kevin spoke “I’m not saying anything Archie, but it’s Jason Blossom and well you’re you.”
(Y/N) burst out into a fit of laughter, unable to contain it, she had never expected Kevin to come out with that. Archie playfully smacked (Y/N)’s arm at her reaction towards Kevin’s comment. “In all honesty, I’d break up with (Y/N) for Jason Blossom.” Archie commented, sending a wink in his girlfriend’s direction.
Aria looked up at her two aunties, her eyes pleading for them to say yes. They both had already promised not to tell Archie about the swap. “Fine, Aria, you know I can never say no to you. I’ll speak to her tonight.” Veronica spoke “I don’t care what you think Bet, we’re doing this.”
Aria jumped up, wrapping her arms around Veronica’s neck. “You guys are the best!”
Lillian sat watching the flame haired pace back and forth as she spoke on the phone. Curiosity got the best of her and before she could even think, she was already making her way towards the girl.
“So has mum agreed?” the girl spoke, her accent taking Lillian by surprise.
“Aria?” Jughead shouted, his voice echoing around the house. Immediately the young girl came running out of his office. Aria’s eyebrow was raised at her uncle, almost as if she was expecting something. Jughead lowered his voice as the girl stopped in front of him. “It’s time to let her know, Lia.”
Lillian felt tears prick her eyes, she couldn’t believe her ears. The girl she had longed to see grow up alongside Amelia was right in front of her. She wanted nothing more than to cup her face, taking everything in and also listen to the way her accent made the simplest sentences sound ridiculously elegant. She frankly couldn’t believe what Aria had just told her. Meeting at camp, finding out about each other and then trading places. “Lil why are you crying?” Archie asked as he walked out onto the patio.
“She’s so beautiful,” she said, her voice cracking as her words came out “She’s just amazing. I love her.” Lillian slowly stepped into the house, her gaze staying on Aria.
Amelia ran into (Y/N)’s bed, immediately hiding under her mother’s sheets. (Y/N) flinched slightly as her daughter cuddled into her side. “What’s wrong, darling?”
“I’m leaving town.”
“To do what, exactly?” (Y/N) was amused at her daughter’s situation and held back her laughter, knowing her daughter was somehow distressed.
“I need to go see Aria!” Amelia exclaimed, pushing the sheets off her face. “That’s why Aunt Veronica and Aunt Betty wants you to come out to San Francisco. So you can un-swap us!”
(Y/N)’s face immediately softened and the laugh she was holding back suddenly disappeared. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She was unsure of whether to believe it was happening or whether she was still asleep. After all it was only half past eight in the morning. She looked down at her daughter, pushing her hair from her face and kissing her forehead “You promise you’re not playing a cruel prank on me?”
“Mom, I’m Amelia and Aria is over in Riverdale with Archie Andrews aka our dad.” Amelia frowned “But now you definitely have to un-swap us!”
“Amelia, darling, why didn’t you tell me earlier? Aren’t you missing your father?”
“Mom, I miss dad so much but I wanted to meet you and find out what you were like and Aria felt the same way with dad so we switched places. Mom, I just really want you to love me the way you love Aria.”
(Y/N) wrapped her arms around Amelia and pulled her closer to her chest. “Oh sweetheart, I do love you. I think about you every single day and I frankly can’t quite believe that you’re with me, but Amelia, you do realise that you belong with your father and Aria belongs with me. We agreed on that and I don’t really want to break your father’s heart.”
“But moooooom!” Amelia whined, causing Jughead to let out a loud laughter that echoed throughout (Y/N)’s room “You already have so what’s one more heartbreak?”
A/N: This fic takes place during college. I had mentioned a Rucas breakup in several other stories and @siennese asked if I intended to write about what happened. I have 5 chapters planned for this fic and 3 new related one-shots/drabbles that will take us from here through to the start of the IG series. This takes place several months before Charmed Moments. As with 99% of my other stories, this is a Maya-free universe.
A/N: They are in college and while I won’t be providing details about intimate moments, they will be alluded to…
gave mighty an antiinflammatory and antibiotic in case it’s a nip and separated her from dipper (who has a cut on her ear). so it’s dipper/disco on the top and dizzy/mighty on the bottom. i feel bad for disco tbh. no one is really crazy about dipper. but disco is the most easygoing and dizzy is in love with mighty so…
“CHECK IT OUT! I’M BLOND, I’M SKINNY, I’M RICH- SHIT!”
*kicks ball and it hits a dude’s butt* “I APOLOGIZE FOR INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR”
*marks up with a foe for a throw-in* *leaps in front of her like a deer to block the ball and immediately gets it back out* “Oh, hello”
“You know what’s cool?” (other guy: “Yeah?”) *whips out pen w/ flashlight end* “I can blind my enemies.” *flips switch*
“Are, are you a wartortle or blastoise? You’re too tall to be a squirtle.” (cis sis: “um… wartortle, I think”) (same other guy: “I don’t even know what any of those are”) “Are you real? Have you heard of pokemon?” (Well, yeah, I know pokemon-”) “Wanna be a pikachu?” (”uh. sure?”)
(guy that got hit in the butt with the ball: “Do I have to be a squirtle?”) “No, got a suggestion?” (”Mudkip. I love mudkip.”) “Mudkip it is.” (”but I love water types, y’know, you can just blast through the first two gens- shit”) “what do you think of the Johto water type starter? in the last evolution he’s so angry like-” *makes crocodile with arms* “vroom vroom” (”eh, he’s okay.”) “Thoughts on cyndaquil? I love cyndaquil.” (”fire pikachu”) *is genuinely offended*
“Yall are rad. Yall are wild. Yall’s performance is stellar, brilliant, yall”
“SPREAD! SPREAD! BUTTER!” (”what”) “I MAKE GREAT METAPHILLIPINES!”
if I were a month: August
if I were a day: Sunday
if I were a planet: Neptune
if I were a god or goddess: Hecate, goddess or magic, crossroads, and ghosts
if I were a sea animal: A squid
if I were a piece of furniture: A small glass coffee table
if I were a gemstone: A geode
if I were a flower: A daffodil
if I were a type of weather: Harsh sunlight, but with a slight breeze
if I were a colour: Baby blue and/or bright yellow
if I were an emotion: Knowing you should be excited about something but not caring
if I were a fruit: Lime (bc I’m either bitter or sour)
if I were a sound: Loud obnoxious dogs barking
if I were an element: Earth
if I were a place: A small old neighbourhood park
if I were a scent: Citrus
if I were a song: I really can’t choose one that’s too hard
if I were a body part: Jaw/shoulders
if I were a pair of shoes: You know those casual shoes you own that you wear when going to a supermarket or stopping at a really close friends house that are kinda tattered but you don’t care? I’m those
if I were a direction: South
if I were a liquid: Lemonade
if I were a tree: A willow tree
if I were a musical instrument: Triangle
if I were a time of day: 7 am
if I were a historical figure: No
if I were a vegetable: Yellow bell peppers
if I were a berry: Raspberry
if I were a movie: No
if I were a book: No
if I were a food: Rice
if I were a material: Something thin and sparkly
if I were a taste: Sour but sweet as well… like a lollipop
if I were a word: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocius
if I were an object: A spring from a mattress
if I were a facial expression: 😅 (that’s the expression)
if I were a subject in school: Art, but like, with an annoying teacher
if I were a cartoon character: Alex from Totally Spies (who remembers that show? that was my childhood)
if I were a shape: Diamond
if I were a sin: Envy
if I were a car: That one annoying bright red sports car you see everyday
if I were a natural disaster: Any volcano
if I were a season: Summer
He was just a boy, an ordinary boy. He had a nice mother, an obnoxious sister, a cute dog. He went to the CCG academy with dreams of his own heroism, with a desire to transcend his own ordinariness and be seen for what he was, what he truly knew he must be inside…a hero. Maybe he read of ghouls and those who conquered them, or maybe Seidou’s head was filled with other heroes, heroes with muscular bodies and stable minds who swooped in at the hour of crisis and pulled ordinary people from the jaws of death.
But he was a boy. An ordinary boy. And when it came time to take his classes, he did well. And when it came time to take his tests, he did well. And when it came time to practice his physical fitness, he did well. But he was an ordinary boy. He was afraid of ordinary things like ghouls, like pain, like death. He was a boy vulnerable to being eclipsed by others. And this, his ordinariness, became an albatross on his shoulder, a shackle on his ankle, a weight he could neither shed nor bear to carry.
He knew, some part of him knew, that he would have to do something amazing, something heroic, something frightening, something incredible if he were ever going to surpass Akira, if he were ever going to impress Houji. Moving that impossible distance - ordinary to extraordinary - would only happen in a moment of heroism and self-sacrifice. A moment to be remembered for. A moment that could define a person, a story, a career, a lifetime.
And maybe, just maybe, he could feel his moment coming. Maybe when he sat down to write his will some part of him felt, or thought, or sensed, or guessed that his moment was imminent. We don’t know, can’t know, but we do know that the very core of him was coiled up in mortal terror, body shaking, sweating as he etched the words into the pages of a will, “I DON’T WANT TO DIE.”
But in the moment, he ran toward danger, not away from it. Through his shaking and his tears and the snot running from his nose he chose to deny Amon’s direct orders, chose to stand his ground. It was his moment, as he was faced with the cold gaze of the fire-breathing ghoul before him, it was his moment to shine, to fight, to be the hero he had always wanted to be, strived to be, feared he might not ever be.
And so, he fought through the paralysis of his own terror. And so, he lifted his quinque. And so, with Amon’s blood on his palm, with his heart pounding, with his limbs trembling, with tears in his eyes he chose to stand his ground. He yelled furiously, he activated the flames of his quinque…
And he was lifted up, the ground swept away from his feet in one swift move, as he looked into the cold eyes of a ghoul that demanded to know if Houji was his superior. He might have wondered what was going on or he might not have, too replete with confusion and terror to wonder anything at all. And with one quick motion he was tossed in the air. And then his arm was gone. It happened so fast he didn’t even really have a chance to process the pain or what had happened, a single “No way….” leaving his lips before he was swallowed up into darkness, Amon’s screams echoing in his ears.
What happened next, we can only piece together with the scant evidence we’re given. When he woke up, his body had been invaded by the very enemy he fought. He must have been terrified, possibly restrained. He might have cried, he might have screamed and shouted, he might have prayed and begged and sobbed for mercy. But there is no mercy for the devil. This fallen angel, dragged into the depths of the very organization which he had fought so hard to overcome.
Who knows when they started the torture, the tests. Who knows when Eto appeared before him, naked or wrapped in bandages, laughing and whispering of revolution, of his place in that revolution. Who knows how many times he lost fingers, toes, how many times he chewed through his own lips in his anguish. Who knows how many times he was relieved of his limbs only to watch them grow back, sinews snapping into place over newly formed bone, all of it burning, burning, burning until he could no longer feel the pain. And then there was the hunger. The gnawing ache of it, the madness of it, a hunger that he’d never imagined or felt before. The hunger consumed him like a flame, burned through him until he felt nothing else, until it was the entirety of his being.
We know that at some point, death was no longer a frightening prospect. In fact, it probably began to feel like a welcome friend, a dream he could let himself float gently down into, a warm embrace, a field of flowers…and yet, death wouldn’t come for him. There is no mercy for the devil and, despite his previous misgivings, he must have realized at some point, must have known that death is its own form of mercy.
At some point, he must have realized that he was no longer an ordinary boy. At some point, he might have marveled that in a previous life, his ordinariness had been his albatross, his shackle, his curse. He might have cursed himself and his own naivety, for what wouldn’t he give - as he grew weapons on his shoulders, on his back - what wouldn’t he give for just a moment, a taste, a hint of the ordinary.
Perhaps the plan came to him in waves and stages. Perhaps it came all at once. Perhaps it was a mantra that carried him through the torture, the tests, the torment. Perhaps it sustained him just as much as the sweet flesh of those he used to count among his friends, his colleagues, his superiors, his compatriots. We can’t be sure, but what is clear is that at some point, Seidou decided that he simply needed to swoop in at the right time, to save Houji, who had once considered him to be so weak, to save Akira, who had spurned and shunned and outranked him at every turn, to destroy the raging beast that was Tatara and save the lives of those he knew he still cared for. The heads he’d plucked, the flesh he’d eaten, none of it would matter if only, if only he could prove himself.
After all, the CCG was making its own half ghouls now, wasn’t it? They would accept him back into the fold. Houji would look at him with pride shining in his eyes. Akira would look at him with awe, admiration. He might even be made a special class right away…after all, he was strong now. He was no longer afraid of death.
He had become death.
There, on Rue island, Houji and Akira fought against Tatara, the ghoul who had snatched Seidou from the ground and thrown him into the mouth of Noro. Seidou might have waited, might have allowed his former colleagues the time to realize the desperation, the hopelessness of their situation before he swept in to save them. This was his time, his chance, his moment and this time he would not cry or scream or hesitate. He would take Tatara out with ruthless efficiency. He would end the ghoul who had killed so many investigators and agents. He would prove his use, his power, his extraordinariness.
But there is no mercy for the devil. And just as Seidou emerged from the fight, victorious and sweating, relieved, ecstatic, he was met with the guarded stares of those he had just rescued.
He was confused. Why were they staring? He’d saved them. They were saved. Why was Akira staring? Why was Houji? Why weren’t they crying from relief, running to him, welcoming him back into the fold, taking him home? Why weren’t they recognizing the gift he had given them?
Smiling, Seidou opened his arms. Eyes wide, he let Houji’s name tumble from his lips. They had to understand. He’d saved them. He was a hero. He was the strongest, now. He was ready. And then Houji spoke.
And the dream that had sustained him through the torture, the torment, the horror of this nightmare life evaporated into so much smoke. And the world slowed to a crawl.
Perhaps he shrieked, perhaps he howled, perhaps he screamed as he cut through the investigators like they were so much warm butter. We can’t know, but we do know that as the dust settled, as his fingers gripped Akira’s neck like a vice, Seidou asked why, why, why? He wanted her to be different. He wanted her to accept him, to see him, to really see him.
But she told him that Houji’s betrayal had been a mercy. A mercy. And Seidou knew that Akira, too, would have to die.
He had been a boy, an ordinary boy. A boy with hopes and dreams and aspirations, with fears and flaws. And as his hand closed around the neck of the girl he’d spent so much of his life loving, he watched all those ordinary things fade away and grow dim, just like the light in her eyes.
People without OCD misunderstand it on so many levels. No it’s not a personality trait where you’re irked if things aren’t neat. And it’s not just anxiety either, not just chronic worrying or panic attacks.
OCD molds itself around the mind of whoever has it. It’s fine-tuned to whatever will strike at you most effectively. Sometimes it’s like water, taking the path of least resistance, and carrying you along so smoothly you don’t even realize you’ve been floating away until you’re stranded in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight. Sometimes it’s a surprise precision-strike, taking advantage of a second’s vulnerability and leaves you immediately crumpled on the floor, fully aware of what happened, but powerless to do anything about it after the fact. There are days when it’s just a goddamn pest, buzzing about you head incessantly, and while it’s not making you particularly anxious you just aren’t in the mood for swatting it off–for fuck’s sake, is one day of peace too much to ask for?
Imagine your neighbor has a small yapping dog with the most obnoxious bark a dog can have and it yaps at you non-stop for decades at a time. Now imagine that sometimes it metamorphoses into a vicious wolf, able to break free from its chain to come after you. Sometimes it metamorphoses into a velociraptor–it can open doors, call for friends, outwit you, out-run you and devour you, and all the while convinces you that the pain is all your own doing. Imagine it’s all three at the same time. And it’s also living inside your head. Some days it is your head.
It learns. It adapts to your fears and worries based on your situation on any given day, in any given location. It can even turn in on itself, making you question whether you have it at all. It can take any piece of you and begin picking it apart in to little shreds of doubt, until all you have left of yourself at lunch with your friends, sitting in the chair at the dentist’s office, at 2 am alone in bed, is a pile of scraps quickly burning into ash, and you hope grow back in to a person by morning.
OCD is fucking terrifying–not just what it makes you think, but its very nature, the way it works–and your only weapon against it, at the end of the day, is to train yourself to ignore and endure the terror until it gives up and lets you go.
Prompt: Sebastian dog-sits Dodger while Chris is visiting New York. When you meet Sebastian with Dodger, you believe the dog is his and he rolls with it.
Word Count: 1200
A/N: This kind of came out of nowhere. I hope it’s okay. It was literally written in less than two hours, so bear with me.
Sebastian sat on the park bench and let out a long sigh. Chris was doing press interviews in New York this week and, being the good friend he is, Sebastian offered his cast mate a place to stay at his home. When Chris mentioned bringing his dog, Sebastian thought nothing of it-believing Dodger would be fairly obedient and easy to handle-and, boy, was he wrong. Dodger was hyper and seemed to despise him. The dog would listen to everyone, except for Sebastian. He also found it fun to chew on everything the Romanian owned. Even Chris had commented that he had never seen Dodger like this-as he continued to laugh at how his pet destroyed his friend’s shoes. To Sebastian, Dodger was difficult and his only goal was destruction. The dog wanted to explore the new city-and pee on everything too.
It was a bright, sunny day in the summer of New York; therefore, Sebastian decided to take the dog for a walk while Chris was being interviewed. The moment Sebastian picked up the blue leash, Dodger was jumping up and down, clawing at the door-ready to leave. Sebastian made a note to himself to replace the door that now had bite and scratch marks covering the bottom corner.!It took some struggling, but they eventually ended up at the park. The Romanian gave up with the dog and settled on a park bench, allowing Dodger to run around as far as the leash would allow.
“Dodger, calm down. You’re acting as if that’s the first squirrel you’ve ever seen.” Sebastian tried to shush the dog as he spotted a bushy tailed squirrel on the grass. Dodger tugged on the leash, all while barking at the animal. The squirrel scurried up the tree, safe from the obnoxiously persistent dog. Dodger whined, before distracting himself by rolling on the grass.
“Is this seat taken?” A voice asked from beside Sebastian. He took his eyes off the dog and onto the owner-you.
“No.” He shook his head in reply. You smiled and sat on the opposite side of the park bench. You pulled out a book and began to read, oblivious to Sebastian staring at you. His focus was shifted to Dodger as the dog saw a duck cleaning its feathers in the pond, splashing in the water.
“Dodger.” Sebastian grumbled, clinging onto the leash tightly as the dog tried to run off again.
“How long have you had him?” You asked quietly and he turned his attention back to you. He was about to correct you that this really wasn’t his dog, but the sudden urge to impress the pretty girl sitting beside him was too good of an offer to pass up.
“Not very long.” He explained simply.
“What’s his name?” You questioned.
“Like the team.” You laughed lightly. You closed your book and called to the dog. Dodger was quick to respond to you. He went over to you and greeted you with a lick to your hands. You smiled, petting him gently, “Other than the hyperactivity, he seems like a good dog.”
“Is he a mix?”
“Yeah,” Sebastian smiled as he saw you quickly fall in love with the dog, who liked the attention you gave him, “Do you like dogs?”
“I love them. My landlord doesn’t allow pets, so I can’t have one anymore.” You replied.
“That’s a shame. They’re a man’s best friend.” He stated.
“They really are.” You said, giggling slightly as Dodger tickled your hand with his incessant licking. Sebastian swore he could listen to you laugh forever-it was like music to his ears.
“I’m Sebastian.” He introduced, holding out his hand.
“Y/N.” You looked at his hand and smiled, “I would normally take it, but they’re covered in dog slobber.”
“Right.” He laughed, “I’m sorry, Dodger’s a messy one.”
“He’s a cute messy one. His owner is just as cute too.”
“Not as messy though. I don’t have a drooling problem.” Sebastian stated.
“I would hope not.” You said and Dodger began to bark again, seeing a bird fly overhead.
“Dodger, you big oaf, shut up.” He said, but the dog kept barking, “He believes he’s a hunting dog.”
“I think he’s just special.” You smiled, “Dodger, hush, buddy.” You cooed and the dog reverted his attention back to you.
“You must have a magic touch because he never listens to me.”
“Maybe all he needs is some training. You did say you haven’t had him that long-maybe he just needs some more time to get relaxed.” You shrugged.
“I’d like to think that you’re magical instead.” Sebastian said, “That way, I’ll have a proper excuse to keep you around.”
“All you have to do is ask and I’ll stay; partly because I’m in love with your dog.”
“I will try to not be offended by that comment.” He replied, “So, what do you say we grab dinner sometime? How does tomorrow work? I’m free all week.”
“Tomorrow is just fine.” You smiled.
“Sebastian, what are you doing here?” A voice asked and Sebastian turned to see Chris standing a few feet away from them. He took off his sunglasses and Dodger barked happily as he got closer.
“Chris, what are you doing here?” Sebastian fired back at his bearded friend with terrible timing. A horrified feeling began to creep up in his mind. He knew his friend well and he knew that Chris was not smart enough to shut up. This is why his wingman was Anthony.
“I came to grab some lunch at the taco truck when I saw Dodger. I didn’t know you took him to the park-he loves parks.” Chris turned down to his dog and began to pet him, “Don’t you, Dodger?”
“Chris, shouldn’t you be going? You know, that interview you were talking to me about earlier?” Sebastian tried his hardest to hint at him to go away.
“No, I just finished it.” He stated and looked up from his dog. When Chris finally realized you were there, he turned to Sebastian-who was all but glaring at him. He let out an uneasy laugh, “I think I’m going to get that taco now.” He awkwardly backed away and Dodger whined from his real owner leaving him again.
“So,” you started, unsure of what to say. The Romanian looked to you with a sheepish smile, “Dodger isn’t your dog?”
“No, I’m sorry. He’s Chris’. When you starting talking to me and believed he was mine, I just went with it.” He explained, “Please, don’t let this affect your decision to go out with me.”
“Do you really think I’d be so low not to go out with you based upon a dog?” You asked with a laugh.
“Well, no. I just-”
“It’s fine, Sebastian. I’m not mad. It’s pretty funny-and cute actually. Just don’t lie about something so silly again.” You stated playfully, “As long as I get to see this little guy again, I’m fine.”
“I promise I won’t lie again. As for Dodger, I don’t know how often he’ll be out here, but I can always ask Chris to bring him if he’s going to be in town.” He smiled, finally at ease, letting the truth come out and overcoming that awkward barrier successfully.
Exo Reaction to Their Girlfriend’s Massive Dog Running Up to Them and Jumping on Them
I hope this makes sense. I needed to kind of reword the request a bit for the title. This one is going to be kind of short. I am sorry if the gifs didn’t really match, I had a hard time finding them.
When the dog came running up to him it scared the daylights out of him because it was barking and being super loud. It was also twice the size of dogs he usually saw. However, once he got over his shock he started to pet it because it was friendly.
The dog knocked him to the ground and then immediately began to lick his face. After a few minutes it left him there and he looked around in shock.
He laughed as the dog jumped up on him, pushing him against the wall behind him. He wasn’t afraid at all and kept his calm as he pet it and asked his girlfriend what its name was.
He wasn’t fazed even in the least about how big his girlfriend’s dog was, he just started petting it immediately despite not knowing if it was friendly or not.
He wasn’t shocked by the dog’s size or the way it ran at him. He just kind of smiled at it and pet its head a few times before going back to talking to her parents.
The dog didn’t run up to Soo because he is the embodiment of all that is evil and unholy in this world.
(I am sorry, I don’t even know what the fuck that was. -___-)
He starts making kissing faces at it and petting it immediately as it jumps on him, getting excited that the dog seems to like him so much and finding it cute.
He just kind of smiled at the dog and backed up so it couldn’t jump on him anymore and then pet it a bit until it calmed down. Once the dog seemed calmer, he stood to his full height again and looked at his girlfriend with a smug smile. “See, I told you the dog would be fine.”
The dog wouldn’t shut up. It was an obnoxious dog that just kept barking at him. The dog jumped up and scratched his hand, making him let out a whine and fling his hand around.
He smiled and continued to greet her parents when the dog started circling him. He worried that it didn’t like him at first but then it settled down and he began to pet it while he talked.
At first the dog scares him by barreling full speed into the room and jumping up on him, but after a moment he calms down and then gets really excited about it, petting it and calling it cute.
He didn’t freak out when the dog ran up to him and tried to jump up because it looked so happy. Instead he ended up giggling about it until they finally managed to get it to calm down. He pet it for a bit and then returned to talking to his girlfriend and her parents.