#IT'S ALL ABOUT THEMMMMMM

[hayden-christensen]

PREQUELS APPRECIATION WEEK 2024 DAY 5: FOUND FAMILY ▸ ANAKIN SKYWALKER & OBI-WAN KENOBI

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice had gone soft, and his hand was warm on Anakin’s arm. “There is no other Jedi I would rather have at my side right now. No other man.” Anakin turned, and found within Obi-Wan’s eyes a depth of feeling he had only rarely glimpsed in all their years together; and the pure uncomplicated love that rose up within him then felt like a promise from the Force itself. “I … wouldn’t have it any other way, Master.” [insp]

[odd-chips]

Here's a big post of some of my doodles of [Cap'n and crew] that I haven't posted yet! Couple are comics, couple are shitposts, you know how it goes.

(Also have some extra character tidbits beneath the cut!)

Cap'n (she/they) has become a Spongebob-adjacent "married to the job" type with sprinklings of "they are not immune to rose-tinted Company propaganda". Cartoonishly loyal to work, she's more upset about lying to the boss about her condition over actually becoming a monster on work time (though she isn't particularly a fan of being a monster, either).

Skeets (she/her) was already implied to be pretty optimistic and curious, but I've doubled down on this. She's constantly curious about entities and the state of her co-workers, asking questions and absorbing new information. She's also extremely lucky when it comes to encountering entities.

Mav (she/him), as implied by her nearly leaving Cap'n behind in the first comic, has become a "I won't hesitate, bitch" bitch. Split second decisions aren't an issue for her, she WILL shoot first and ask questions later. (She also now has a gambling addiction, haha. LOVES betting credits on things)

Kid (he/him) is now Irish. I will not elaborate. He's kind of literally the same otherwise. He's also in major inherited debt because of a Company-caused clerical error, but don't worry about it.

Uh. That's about it, I suppose!

[wexhappyxfew]

Also! 29 on OTP dialogue for Annie and Brady?

HI JAMIEEEE!!! thank you so much for this other prompt as well!!! sorry it took a bit to get to! :) i must say, this idea swirled in my head for a bit and then, when i felt things in writing were finally going the way i wanted them to, i felt ready to post this!! thank you again!!!! :D

a little while longer

(a/n): for the annie x brady girlies, with a mix of angst and fluff all at once!!! to say the least, these two have my whole heart and just !!!!!! there was an anon awhile back talking about brady freaking out if he ever saw annie injured or wounded in the slightest way - and well....here ya go! prompt: don't lie to me. i was there.

The soup was probably the best thing she could've had in that moment - despite what little warmth this place provided, the soup was sure to give her enough strength to keep her going. She'd been up most of the night with a nasty, wheezing cough, her nose running and her throat sore as all get-out. Now, with her stomach feeling sour, nose run red from the amount of times she'd wiped it, she felt like she'd been drug behind a truck and tried standing again. But, for now, this little bowl of soup was making her incredibly happy.

Annie looked up and towards where Brady was, sat taking up spoonful after spoonful of soup himself, getting every last bit her possibly could. She had to admit, she was worried about him more often than not - because he spent the majority of his time worrying about her, especially in the past few days. So seeing him eat his fill and focus on himself, settled her for the time being.

"Guys. Guys!" yelling started down the hallway, along with a banging all along the wooden walls of this sad excuse for barracks. Annie met Buck's eyes from beside her at the table and watched as everyone in the tiny bunk room looked towards the doorway to find Benny DeMarco racing in, eyes wide and bloodshot as he made an attempt to catch his breath.

"What is it, Benny?" Bucky said, pushing up from where he leaned against a bunk, forgetting about his soup and focused on the rather frantic nature of Benny there in front of them. Benny took a minute to catch his breath and then pointed outside.

"They got a new group comin' in. Margie may be in that group. We gotta go look." he said quickly, before disappearing again out the door. Annie watched that now-empty doorway and slowly turned to meet Kennedy and Bessie's eyes - there was something unspoken between the three of them that the boys hadn't entirely clued into or focused on. But coming in as a woman was one thing; having survived that level of interrogation was another.

Margie had to.

She had to be in that group.

She was more hopeful than half of them combined.

"Let's go." Annie said, moving to her feet, buttoning her coat and wrapped that scarf around her neck, "C'mon." She was the first out the door, hurrying down the hall, a few echoing footsteps behind her as she pushed outside and attempted to seek out Benny in the crowd. She caught sight of his beanie, and began, rather slowly, moving through the open area towards the gates.

As she got closer, she watched, as if in shaky, frantic real-time capture, as Benny moved along the fence, yelling out, over and over again, before tearing around the edge of the wiring and disappearing into the crowd.

Annie felt her face grow cold and stoic, her shoulders pressed high, her chin pointed up. Her heart pounded as she turned around the edge of the gate and found Benny there on the ground, pulling a rather fragile looking, collapsed, corpse of Margie Harlowe on the ground, her face bloodied, her clothing practically hanging off of her form, and her one shoulder looking twisted in all the wrong places. Then, standing over them, was whom she could only assume as one of the German soldiers who had been begrudgingly dragging Margie along.

This was one of her girls, her flight engineer; bright, sunny Margie, with that beautiful blonde hair that was now all haphazard angles around her shoulders, bright blue eyes that were red and filled with tears and beautiful rosy cheeks that were scarred and bloodied.

Annie slowly looked up at the German who stood silent and still, overtop where Margie was half alive in Benny's arms, her cries weak and pained, Benny's comfort only doing so much to erase the pain of reality.

Annie couldn't take it anymore.

She took three, wide steps forward right into the German's face, without much thought for her own self and stared up at him, her body rigid, her eyes narrowed.

"She's already half-dead," Annie practically spat out, "did you really have to drag her in the dirt like a dying dog!" Any sort of celebration and welcoming immediately went quiet as people turned to look at the female lieutenant who was currently losing it on one of the Germans. Annie's throat tightened.

"How can you just stand there!" Annie managed out again, but she knew she had messed up long before she even had opened her mouth. She should've stayed with her soup, let Benny handle all this. But she couldn't. This was one of her girls, this was Margie Harlowe.

Without warning, the German had grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her around him right into the dirt, her body hitting the ground with a rough whimper, her eyes closing at the pain shooting through her body.

"Annie, don't," came Margie's quiet cry.

"Don't touch her." Benny said, his voice drowned out by the sudden kick of the German's booted foot into Annie's side. She curled into a ball with a strangled cry, tears squeaking out of her eyes, her body begging for some sort of reprieve that wasn't this.

When the German had stepped away, angrily spitting down on her, she heard yelling and a commotion somewhere behind her, which was enough to make her sit up, weakly at that, looking past Benny and Margie in his arms and a few stragglers hanging about.

There, just past them, was Brady, screaming and yelling, being held back by Bucky and Murphy as best as they could hold him, Brady's eyes dead set on the German officer who walked away casually and calmly. Annie turned her quivering eyes to Brady again and watched as he broke free of the bodies holding him back and stomped across the open bit of land, taking his hands on the front of the Germans uniform and slamming him against the rusty wiring, yelling, over and over.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her again!" Brady yelled, his voice sounding like a wild animal's, guttural and raw, as the German yelled back, "Don't lie to me. I was there! I saw you hit her! Don't touch her again!" It didn't take long for the German officer to yell something in German, before swinging at Brady, sending him to the ground.

The brawl turned into a power struggle, the German kicking and punching Brady there on the ground, Brady all but weakened and defenseless. Finally, the two were separated and bodies were left behind and the few groupings that had been out were left behind by the Germans, only watched by guards in the towers. Annie watched as Bucky helped Brady to his feet, Brady struggling to find his footing, before ignoring any possible help, as he ambled over to Annie.

"Annie." he managed out, his voice sounding weak as he collapsed on the ground beside her, his hands reaching forward - he was always reaching for her, they always were with one another - and placing themselves against her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing in circles, "He should've never have hit you. I swear to fucking-"

"John." Annie whispered, slowly bringing her hands to his own cheeks, "You've gotta calm down."

"Not when they hit you, Annie. He did it because he-"

"John." she managed out again, "I'm okay. It's…..Margie." Brady watched her and some sort of realization seemed to hit him. He knew how important the women of Silver Bullets were to her, beyond anything, beyond even herself.

Slowly, the two looked over to Margie there, wrapped in Benny's arms, those tears running down her bloodied cheeks, grasping onto Benny like it was her lifeline. Annie managed to pull herself to her feet, Brady beside her, their hands linking to one another for some sort of support, before she fell to the ground in front of Benny and Margie, her hands shaking as she reached forward. Margie flinched at Annie's touch, her eyes immediately welling with tears - what could they have done to you?

"Hey, Margie, it's me." Annie whispered, reaching her hand forward and softly cupping the girl's cheek, brushing her thumb over her pink, wounded skin, "You're okay." Margie looked up at her with those water-filled blue eyes and let out a croaky cry, reaching up a free hand to lay gently against Annie's hand and nodded.

"I can't believe….I found…you all." Margie managed out, "Benny saw me first……I didn't want anyone to get hurt." Benny let out a quiet, wet laugh, as if holding in any tears he was trying not to shed. Annie looked to Brady, whose face had grown soft and gentle. Brady watched Annie, his face full of love and adoration, that same look she'd gotten the privilege of seeing anytime he watched her.

"You didn't have to go beat up any Germans, Brady." Margie managed out, her hand still grasping Annie's tightly, "You're too kind." The three of them laughed again at Margie's words, before Annie's eyes filled with tears and Margie seemed to notice.

"Don't cry, Bradshaw, I'm still here." Margie said softly, "Look at me."

"I thought you were dead," Annie managed out, her throat filled with emotion, "I should've looked for you….tried to get you to safety-"

"Don't go saying that, Bradshaw," Margie managed out, before letting out a wet, rattling cough, "I got to see Brady beat up a German for a bit. It was worth it."

"I promise it felt just as good as it looked." Brady said quietly.

"Don't give yourself that much credit." Benny offered and the group fell into small bits of laughter again.

By the time they'd gotten Margie up and in the comforting arms of Benny and Bucky who had come racing over like a bat out of hell, Annie had turned to Brady, looking at him bathed in cold sunshine, his face more stressed and sunken in these days, but still the Brady from that first day on base. They watched one another and she smiled slightly, reaching up to run a finger beside the cut near his eyebrow.

"Let me help you dress that," she whispered quietly, her hand cradling his cheek, as he watched her, "thank you for doing that." Brady clenched his jaw.

"He shouldn't have even touched you."

"I shouldn't have gotten in his face. I shouldn't have said a word-"

"You did the right thing, Annie, I know that. They gotta have a little humanity in this place."

"There's barely an ounce of that here." she whispered, voice sorrowful and sad. Brady watched her, before bringing up a hand to clasp around her one against his cheek. For a second, it looked like Brady was going to say something else, but he bit his tongue and continued to watch her instead.

"Does your chest hurt?" he whispered to her, "I'll help you wrap it. I'll scrounge some bandage."

"Only a little," she whispered back, "I'm more worried about your chest. He hit you pretty hard." Brady smiled softly at her and stepped forward, cradling her face in his hands, his beautiful eyes on her own.

"Let me take care of you." he whispered to her, "Let me hold you, just a little while longer." Annie stared up at him and flitted her eyes across his face and lips, before settling on that scar again.

"Only if you let me wrap up your chest." she whispered back to him.

"Only if I can wrap yours." he said back. She stared at him and then smiled softly, nodding, "Is it tender?"

"I'll be okay." she whispered, "You know that."

"I know." Brady whispered, "Sometimes I just….." Annie watched him, her big eyes holding him in her gaze, watching as he watched her back, their emotions hitting a head.

"What?" Annie asked quietly, her voice hidden it felt by the sweeping winds this place had. Brady couldn't get his eyes off her it felt, and like it were the most delicate thing in the world, he pulled her into his arms, probably the warmest hug she'd had since arriving here, and stayed like that. Her heart raced in his embrace and as he pulled back, she looked up into his face right in front of her and licked her lips. The corner of his mouth lifted upwards and she felt her body shiver. Something pulled her closer, she wanted to be closer than they already had been.

"Hey!" Brady and Annie seemed to bounce apart, and they turned to find Bucky walking closer, all smug, hands in his pockets, "We're gonna get Margie comfortable."

"Right." Annie said, stepping back and smoothing out her normally, crumpled clothes, catching Brady's eyes for a second and then pushing her hair behind her ears, "Let's go." She hurried away, towards where Benny was still walking with Margie, as Bucky came to Brady's side. Brady stared at Bucky, who smirked and clapped his shoulder.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Bucky said, "quite the dragon slayer though, huh."

"Shut up."

"You tell her yet?"

"Shut up, Bucky."

[sieglinde-freud]

excuse the dogshit quality but loooook :)) they have unique idle sprites :333 unfortunately severas gameplay footage is in the enemy phase so they dont show if she has one and lucinas looks prettyyy normal but like. ohmmggoddd… theyre soooooo cuuuteeeeee!!

[justablah56]

every day I look into my inbox and see the like 25 unanswered asks and fuckign hell aether it's not weird to answer an ask after a while someone tell me it's not weird to answer an ask after a while

[hcnnibal]

literally just joined your patreon to see more a1/a2 content i hope we get to see more 🥺🥺 im so invested already i cant wait to see how their story goes! <33

thank you!!!!! u have no idea how much that means to meeeeeeeeee

[moss-and-marimos]

oh? (<- curious abt your pathfinder character)

[heavy breathing] oh my god you dont even know the brain worms I have for this character. they dont have a name (they have a name ive been calling them for simplicity but its not like their actual canon name, I just needed something quick for the oneshot I played them in to try pathfinder) but theyre like one of my favorite ocs I have. oh my god. so theyre a catfolk, theyre a tuxedo cat, and this didnt get explored at all in the oneshot I played but their backstory is 'reflection.' meaning that they literally got magically pulled out of a mirror. like oh my god. their background is acrobat, technically. their class eventually becomes swashbuckler. The 'original', the person theyre a replica of, worked in a circus as an acrobat and tightrope walker and such. My pathfinder character got pulled out of a mirror in the hall of mirrors. can you imagine. you are just quite literally pulled into existence, you dont know by what, you dont know where you are, you've never been alive before, you've never thought before, you look like an adult bc youre an imperfect replica of someone who was, but you've never existed until now, and you just have to fucking deal with that??? so for like 3 months they stay living and working at the circus, because where else are they supposed to go?? they dont know anything else!! im not entirely sure what happens with this part of the lore yet, but they either get framed for killing their original, or the original goes missing or something, something happens and it makes replica look really suspicious, and so its kind of the last straw, and they decide to leave and become their own person and explore the world. this is where the swashbuckler class becomes a thing. At some point along the way, theyre given or steal or something a sword called a 'bastard sword', and bastard swords are called that because they have no 'family' as far as swords go. well guess what, my character doesnt either. They have a really hard time for a while, obviously they havent been around for a long time to learn social cues or anything, and theyre forced to learn rather quickly that people dont take kindly to reflections. ive been trying to decide whether or not they themself have a reflection, because on one hand I like the idea of it being a detail for other people to notice that something is up, and like it makes sense, they were the reflection of course they dont have one of their own, but also like it would be equally as angsty and cool for them to have a reflection and to constantly be having the existential crisis about 'thats a person in there. I was in there.' and people would probably make fun of them for being 'confused' about mirrors but no, there is so much to unpack there the art potential this character has is so so so much to me, either waking up your first moment of sentience either being surrounded by empty mirrors, not knowing what a mirror is anyway to know you even should have a reflection, or your first moments of sentience being surrounded by copies yourself, in a room where you are aware that they are people just as much as you are, that they are you but simultaneously a replica of you and the existential issues of that oh my god I need to draw them in a jesters costume or something and just make angst about them being 'the fool' or other assorted circus themed angst because my god I have brainwork's about this character you dont even know Fun fact about them: one of the errors in their being a replica is that they dont have claws, they were copied without them, and so just imagine you are brought into a world entirely unfamiliar to you, you dont know who or what or where you are, and you dont even have a way to defend yourself. everyone in the world who is like you naturally has a way to defend themself, except you, who arguably needs it the most. just another way that you were a mistake. (part 1 this got too long and it wont let me post, part 2 in reblogs)

[im-a-chunky-potato]

@cafffeine @xansnacks (hope you don't mind the tag!)

HAHJDJSHJDJSHDHJDJSJE THE FIC!!!!!! THEY MAKE ME SO INSANE AND THAT WAS SO CUTE AND WOWWWWW I NEEED THEM ALL NOWW THANKS FOR THE RECCOMENDATION

[hinamie]

listening 2 a ll!sif masterlist..... :(

[zappedbyzabka]

oh boy your tags about terry buying Johnny all those rings

Just picturing daniel who’s been longing after johnny and regretting not helping him after the tournament for years, dreaming of him and being unable to date anyone else because of it, running into johnny at the store and seeing the EXPENSIVE ring on johnny’s finger. feeling like crying because he’s still so beautiful and he seems healthy and happy. Daniel realizing that he will never have a chance with him again and has lost him completely. sorry this is So angsty.

Um , YES

Anon this is like, exactly what I’ve been thinking for this au. Maybe Johnny did used to like Daniel too, but is now too in love with/owned by Terry to even think about having feelings tor anyone else again.

Johnny looked so content, a small smile on his face, his ring shining under the store lights as he looked through cards like he couldn’t find the right one. Daniel walked up to him, his heart in his throat.

"Johnny?"

Johnny’s head whipped towards him, and to Daniel’s surprise, no glare appeared.

"LaRusso…Long time, no see."

Daniel cleared his throat, forcing a polite smile on his face. "Yeah, lotta years, but you still got those golden locks, huh?"

Johnny chuckled, and Daniel felt his chest tighten. "Yeah, and I see you’re already getting gray hairs—"

"Hey!"

That just made Johnny laugh again, and Daniel felt like dying because he looked so beautiful, so…different, like he was being cared for finally, like Daniel hadn’t crossed his mind for a while. Daniel remembered no one cheering Johnny on in the crowd besides the cobras, and regretted.

"So, uh, special occasion?" He asked, motioning towards the cards, and Johnny nodded.

"Yeah, my anniversary."

He looked so happy as he said it, blue eyes sparkling with adoration. He’s taken; he’s all of Daniel’s daydreams.

Daniel gritted his teeth, throat feeling tight. "Oh. Congrats. Who’s the lucky one that got to put a ring on the Johnny Lawrence? Anyone I’d know?"

He tried to sound playful. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was one of the cobras, maybe Bobby. Or Dutch, it was clear the guy had some not-so-innocent feelings towards his leader.

Johnny looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. "You do know him. knew him."

"Who?"

Terry Silver. Terry motherfucking Silver, as it so happened to be.

Johnny showed him photos from their wedding, photos of himself grinning up at Terry brightly at the altar, wearing white and truly looking like a perfect bride. Daniel wants to sleep for a year or two. Maybe erase all his memories of this blonde with a pretty smirk and pale lashes. Forget it all.

Silver sits at home, planning an extravagant gift for Johnny. He knows his boy isn’t one for fanciness, but he can’t help himself when it comes to Johnny; he’s his new coke, his craving. He's his and no one else’s.

Johnny isn’t any less obsessed; he loves Terry more than anyone he’s ever known. He can't even imagine how things would be without Terry at this point—the thought is almost unbearable to him. His husband has been his life since he was 19, and he’s never been happier.

(And lets just say Terry has been making use of Johnny’s flexibility and sluttiness every day.)

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

ALSO!!! Kaiju bros, Jaeger pilots au. (Either my au or your take on them being Jaeger pilots?? 👀)

vague idea for like... pretty immediately after their serious accident that you mentioned in your AU, mayhaps

---

Hermann is- not worried, per se, more just lightly concerned. Perhaps a little anxious, though he's not sure if that buzzing, restless sensation is his own or Newton's ghost drift from the other side of the Shatterdome. He's not been sleeping well, and he knows it isn't from lack of desire to on his own part. No, that certainly must belong to Newton.

This is how Hermann finds himself striding — or, well, hobbling, as it is, now, finding balance while leaning on a cane and thinking he's lucky to be cleared to return to piloting ever, let alone in as little as six weeks — towards the medical bay at three in the morning, well after most PPDC personnel have retreated to their bunks.

Perhaps, he thinks, almost hoping, it's nightmares. A natural trauma response and one that they are equipped to work through. If it were so, though, it's more than likely that the memories would have appeared in Hermann's own dreams. He almost wishes they had; wishes he had that knowledge of what his drift partner had gone through on his behalf. He's not sure if the knowing would increase or ease his own feelings of guilt. He still wants to know.

Newton is sitting up in the narrow infirmary bed, bent over a notebook with his glasses perched precariously on the very edge of his nose and a gel-ink pen held equally precariously in one hand. Newton, Hermann knows, has always been ambidextrous; it's a trait that has on occasion passed between them following the drift. Today, or tonight, rather, the pen is held in his right hand, left palm flat against the notebook as if to steady it. Both hands are shaking viciously, visible even from the door.

It's a side effect of the neural overload, one the doctors say will pass given time, along with the recurring nosebleeds and dizzy spells. For now, Newton is trapped in both the infirmary and his own frustration. Even without the connection of their drift bond, said frustration would be palpable in the air, thick enough to cut through.

Hermann clears his throat. "Newton."

"Hey, Hermann," Newton greets, too casually. Of course he's aware of Hermann's presence, just not acknowledging it except through the blip of recognition and, dare Hermann risk naming it, affection through the ghost of a currently unused drift bond. "What's up?"

He asks like it's the middle of a normal day, as if nothing has happened and everything is as it should be. As if his hands aren't shaking too hard to allow him to write down whatever epiphany had kept him awake; as if Hermann's aren't beginning to shake in sympathy or longing for a solution or or or-

"Breathe," says Newton, suddenly lifting his head to look at Hermann. Hermann breathes. "You good?" Newton blinks at him, eyes bloodshot behind the frames of his glasses, but gaze clear and more curious than actively concerned.

Hermann scoffs. "I came to ask you the same thing," he admits. Then, as an added explanation although it's not really needed, "Ghost drift."

"Oh. Sorry, I guess I was keeping you up?" Newton frowns, slaps his notebook closed and lets the pen fall from his grasp. "I'm fine," he says, which is almost surely a lie.

"Would you-" Hermann hesitates. "Would you like me to write down whatever it was you were thinking of?"

Newton stares at him. "I mean... you'd do that for me?"

"Of course," replies Hermann before he can feel uncomfortable about it. "May I?" He takes a step toward the bed.

Newt grins. "Yeah, s- sure, come on, man!" He holds out the notepad in shaking hands as Hermann carefully takes a seat on the mattress. "So I was thinking of this new strategy-"

It's after three in the morning. They both should be sleeping, but aren't. But. Across the quiet drift connection between them, tonight there is peace.

[sunuism]

everyone please pray or manifest for me that i get one of the easy texts for my exam pleaseeeee

[1975-to-1989]

It's album release day and my dash is so quiet 😭😭 have all the US swifties who stayed up finally gone to bed?

[inkblackcherryblossoms]

we want to talk to our s/o so fjckinf badly rn omfg. feeling extra obsessive tonight in the fuzzy craving their company way im driving myself up the wall. they r so fucking amazing what did we do to deserve them oh my gods

[toasttedbaguels]

got home from drinks with work friends a couple hours ago and god i am in such turmoil

[c0zy-fluff]

Heyyyyy since it's Pride Month, why not some more StarStudent hcs coming from me??

- Kickin would absolutely flaunt off and brag about his relationship w/ Bubba, including during Pride Month. Like, he'd go out of his own way and shout into the public, "I'M NOT ASHAMED OF MY BEAUTIFUL BOYFRIEND!!!" and Bubba's reaction to that would either be him being adorably flustered and embarrassed by what Kickin just did (with the addition of him covering his flushed face w/ his ears) or he just wouldn't mind Kickin doing that at all cuz he'd expect that kinda behavior from him.

- Bubba n Kickin would DEFINITELY have matching accessories/outfits when going out together. Like, they'd have matching bracelets, matching clothes (hoodies, sweaters, etc.) and both wouldn't even care/mind about what someone would say (negatively) abt them, keep holding hands(?), move on w/ their day, and not without Kickin flipping them off as the both of them walk past the person.

- Kickin n Hoppy would absolutely 1-up each other w/ who has the better partner, being Bubba and Bobby, in this case. Kickin and Hoppy would both talk extremely positively abt their partner, but be aggressive towards each other and try to say that their partner is better than the other's partner. Meanwhile, Bubba and Bobby would ironically be interested w/ the convo between their respective partners abt what their partner finds cute abt them.

AKSOCHWKAKWJEDHFOYXOGZJTSHFPUDTIDCYODYOCOY I LOVE THEM SMMMMMMMM IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THEMMMMMM