#bros lowkey hanging so rather be safe

[occulee]

Dread.

[2309analysis]

HEADCANON: Alright, I have this headcanon(s) I have been thinking about all day today - Splinter would not understand “hey bro/dude/gang” slang. If somebody was like, “yo! What’s hanging, dude?” He’d just stare blankly and raise an eyebrow, “excuse me, what?” Poor rat just feels like he heard riddles coming from a person’s mouth. A few lessons on today’s society is definitely sliding in Splinter’s schedule.

If he would ever, and I mean ever, become friends and close with somebody. Who’d I genuinely think the kind of “friend” it’d be; laid-back, chill, nothing phases them, and has a pretty dry sense of humor. Practically laughs at everything or anything with no real serious and ill intentions.

I also would think the friendship would be extremely therapeutic and healthy for Splinter. The complete lack of any real seriousness and constraint of anything constantly around Splints’ and not being his sons would balance out so many of his own toxic traits. Especially over his uprightness and complete disregard to consider his sons’ wishes. (Unintentionally, hear me out, not calling him a bad father)

Having a friend who can put his arm around Splinter’s shoulder, and easily look at him eye-to-eye, and simply say “relax.” Is kinda what Splinter needs every once in a while; having someone to fully understand what he’s going through, and letting him warm-up to them. Allowing Splinter to fall on their back���s, and feel safe knowing he’s watched out. (Lowkey making a ship???) Especially sending his sons’ out every night to stop something that could always potentially kill them.

Splinter lives in fear, and he’s right to do so. Knowing the Shedder is after them, and their human friends’, terrified him, and rightfully so, causes self-conflict and tension between the relationships with his sons. He starts to become harsher with training, and more strict on their freedom and carefreeness. Meditates more, isolating himself, and trying to loathe him off from stress. While still aiding, and training teenagers. He already has it tough being a single parent, but knowing you’re and your kids are being hunted? Amplifies every fear and heightened tension by ten-fold.

Him gaining a trustworthy friend, and if, potential partner would completely water down those feelings and traits. I’m willing to bet, if Splints’ can get his hands on somebody who’s his age, and willing to listen and trust them, he’s a lot less freakishly insecure and uptight. Having somebody who gives him a voice of reason, rather than a dismissive attitude about a demand, might change his ways of thinking or perceptions on the boys. Then, maybe by chance, help Splinter and the boys grow closer together and stronger than ever. (These mutants need to get down and talk with their father once in a while)

Some smaller headcanons/examples of what I see if Splinter could form a normal and healthy friendship:

They’d play chess. I would imagine that Splinter loves strategy games, and be thrilled to finally have someone up his age and maturity range to play with. It induces the brain to think faster, smarter, and more efficient compared to other people. Splinter is growing of age: his ability mentally will deteriorate whether it’s liked or not. Donnie does occasionally join to text some new strategies and tricks.

Advice. Oh, god, the advice/therapy sessions would go on for HOURS. Mostly just Splinter trauma-dumping a well-tuned adult who can properly handle high emotional drama with a healthy and stable/supportive brain. Would really help with Splinter’s self-inclination of toxic and unhealthy guilt-tripping all the time.

Training/Weaponry. I can totally see the friend indulging into Splinter’s routine and get giddy and wants to try to become a Ninja themselves. Granted, I think they’d also be less serious about, because they do got lives’ to live and go to. So, none of the hand-on serious, you’re going out and saving the world, risking your life to do so, kind of crap. Although, they learn a few nice moves, and how to properly handle weapons. Although, for more self-defense and combat experience. Bonus points: Raph joins in, and spares a little with Splinter. Just know that’s a giant win in Raph’s book.

Cleaning up the lair. Splinter would probably want to feel a little traditional and clean up for a guest, (act like he tried doing more and more for April) therefore, kinda forces the boys to clean up after themselves. Especially Mikey, and, will occasionally help clearing things out the way. I mean, bigger things, such as folding blinds/shades(?) and arcade games. Although, he believes the boys can go and do it themselves, but they secretly love hanging out with him outside of training, so they beg for him to help. (Even Raph)

That’s all I kinda have for now. Although, I will totally be cooking up more TMNT headcanons, and such. I hope you guys enjoy this wholesome treat. Also, no, I am not trying to portray Splinter as a bad father, but the guy has done flaws. Like all of us, nobody is perfect, and remember that!

[specificocean33]

Ｔｈｅ Ｓｐｏｒｅｓ

Ｋｉｒｉｓｈｉｍａ ｘ Ｒｅａｄｅｒ

2: ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ; ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ

A Zombie Apocalypse AU. Just a little idea I had. I’ll be writing a total of 3 parts (subject to change,) but anyways here’s the second :) I hope you enjoy it.

The next few hours over to the West District were certainly much livelier than before. Indeed, Kirishima was like the physical embodiment of a golden retriever. His optimism and charisma was contagious, but damn you if you weren’t looking for a cure.

At least Mateo seemed to have cheered up. You were trying your best to allow the anger and sadness eat you alive, but Kirishima was unknowingly beating away your negative emotions with his stupid jokes and his ability to get along with others.

Damn him.

When you finally arrived at the West District after 2 hours, you paid the entrance fee and made your way inside. You decided to trust Kirishima and have him take 25$ and look for a hotel for you all to stay at. You took Mateo to the nearby pawn shop to look for something interesting for him for his birthday.

The West District is a shopping district of sorts; weaponry, food, armor, car parts, gun parts, and other sorts of odds and ends can be found here. That’s why it was one of the most crowded and most populated Districts. That’s also what made it incredibly easy to be stolen. You had Mateo hold your hand the entire time, lest he or you be stolen.

Before you all separated, you swallowed your feelings and opened the car trunk. Your mother’s shotgun was entirely normal. As a matter of fact, the only identifying factor was a Sakura flower keychain hanging from it. You frowned before handing it over to Kirishima, along with some crumpled up currency.

“If you lose this, you’ll be getting the shit beat out of you twice today,” you growled before firmly placing the gun in Kirishima’s hands.

He gulped and nodded, “Of course. It wouldn’t be very manly of me to lose someone else’s property. I’ll be sure to return it to you, safe and sound.”

“Look…when you’re done, we’ll be at one of the pawn shops. I don’t have a phone, and I assume yours got stolen, if you had one at all-”

Strangely, Kirishima didn’t clarify if he had a phone at all to begin with.

“-So just look around. All the pawn shops are clumped together anyway.”

“Okay!” He said with a bright smile. “See you soon!”

You weren’t sure why you were trusting him so much. There was just something so….likable about him. You weren’t sure what though.

Keeping a firm grip on Mateo, you both managed to safely make your way to the pawn shop section of the District. You settled on the first one that you saw, a shabby little shop called Lucky’s Pawn Shop, and followed Mateo around as he looked for another sticker or color of spray paint. (Mateo loved to vandalize buildings, and seeing as how they were all one boring color, you allowed it. No one really cared anyway.)

The entire pawn shop was filled with odd things. All four walls had shelves full of gears, books, broken and whole toys, candle sticks, and other things. The floorspace was taken up by tables and desks of equally odd things. Mangas, comics, novels, old action figures and other such things filled the store.

After about 30 minutes of “I like this color, (Y/N)!” “No, that color’s ugly. Pick another one.” And “Check out this cool sticker, isn’t it from that show you used to watch?” “Yes, but today’s for you. Pick something you want,” Kirishima came bounding into the shop, and seemed genuinely insulted that you were surprised to see him again.

“What? Did you think I was gonna steal from the people who did me a favor? What kind of unmanly scum do you take me for?” He crossed his arms and was very huffy about the whole thing. You found it endearing.

You laughed, “Sorry, sorry. At least you’re back now. Why don’t you help Mateo pick out a color? He’s been struggling and frankly all the colors he picks are lowkey ugly,” you said, pointing at the shelf of half used and cap less spray paint cans.

There were quite a few shades at this shop, which was sort of uncommon.

“Hmm…how about this super cool red, little bro?” Kirishima grinned, pointing at a fiery shade of crimson.

You sighed. You should have known he’d go for some shade of red.

“Oh! I like it. I only have orange and yellow, so I needed a red anyway. Can I get it, (Y/N)?”

“Fine. At least it wasn’t that throw up shade of green,” you mumbled before taking the can in one hand and Mateo’s in the other.

“It’s called ARMY GREEN!” He exclaimed in and exasperated tone.

You winked at Kirishima, he smiled and his cheeks flushed slightly pink.

“Yeah yeah whatever. Army green, throw up green, same difference. It’s all green. Ugly colors regardless.”

Mateo shot you a look before you set the can on the front counter. An old woman was bent over so she didn’t see you right away. When you cleared your throat to get her attention, she bumped her head under the desk and let out a series of curses before lifting her head up, one robotic arm rubbing the spot where she had hurt herself, and the other gripping the counter for support.

This woman had the wildest white hair you had ever seen. She wore a pair of googles on her head, which had a wire coming out of it and trailing in the floor. She blinked a few times, before smiling kindly.

“Oh hello there. Is this all you wanted,” she asked examining the can before looking back at you.

“Yes, that’s all. How much were you wanting for it?”

“Hmm…this particular shade was actually made by me, so it’s a full unused can. 5$ and 3 pieces of copper wire.”

You almost choked. Currency AND wire? Was she insane?

Mateo looked slightly saddened, and Kirishima a little confused.

“Umm…copper wire?” Kirishima whispered into your ear;You jumped, startled. His voice caught you off guard, and you nodded, your cheeks flushed.

“Might I offer 6$ and 1 piece of copper wire?” You asked, turning away from Kirishima, trying not to look at Mateo.

“Hmm…” the old woman crossed her arms and pondered for a moment, “How about 3$ and 3 wires?”

You sighed. You really wanted to give the woman less copper wire, but it seemed there was no help for it.

“Alright. Deal,” you mumbled, reaching into your back pocket and extracting the payment she wanted.

15 minutes later, Mateo was grinning and staring at his new paint can on his bed. The hotel Kirishima managed to find was rather nice. You had half a mind to ask how he managed to get a room with a working bathroom, kitchen, and 3 twin beds to boot, all for 25$, but you decided to ask him a little later.

You shooed Mateo off to shower and promised to find something nice to eat for dinner, before sitting Kirishima down at the kitchen table.

He seemed nervous.

“Alright. So I need to know for how long we’re gonna be traveling together for.” You said bluntly.

“W-wow. Straight to the point, huh?” He laughed nervously.

“I have nothing to hide, and as you can see, we’re sort of broke. I can’t afford to have another person around, no offense. Mateo is my priority and I need to know how long we’re gonna have you around.”

“W-well…okay look,” he sighed rubbing his face with his hands, “I…I’m a runaway.”

You leaned forward on the table.

“A runaway? From who? Are you dangerous? Elaborate.”

“Umm…well…my parents are Buyers. I…I ran away 3 days ago.”

Buyers. The worst kinds of people on this godforsaken planet.

Buyers are the people who buy from Kidnappers. It would make sense why Kirishima would want to leave that life, but that would only mean one thing.

Kirishima was originally from a White Zone.

“You’re…from a White Zone?” You asked.

“Yes. My parents bought freshly Contaminated and…did terrible things to them. I don’t want to talk about what they did, it was just awful, but I think you can see why I wanted nothing to do with that life.”

You felt sort of bad for him, he looked distraught.

“Then…you have nowhere to go?” You asked.

“Well, not necessarily. Whenever things got sort of bad, I’d leave for a bit and I’ve found some friends. They live in the East District, but the thing is, I’d always come back. This time…I haven’t, obviously. They sent someone to come get me, but they robbed me instead, probably to extort more money from my parents.”

“How come you don’t have a bounty on you then?” You were beginning to get somewhat concerned. Harboring a White Zone resident could mean terrible trouble that you really couldn’t handle. Not to mention a lot of running away from bounty hunters and other scum.

“My parents didn’t like me all that much to begin with. They were mainly mad I didn’t agree with their actions, and they didn’t like that I spoke up about it. They want me back because they won’t have to put up a front, but at the same time, not having me home makes it easier on them. They want an obedient child, and that’s not me,” he said, not meeting your eyes.

“So…no one is looking for you, then?” You asked nervously.

“No, no I don’t think so. This is…super unmanly of me to ask, but…can I stay with you two? Just for a little bit? I’ve got some contacts around here who still think I’m living with my parents, and I can get some money for you guys, I’ll make sure to pay you back for helping me, I swear! Just…please, let me stay?” He was pleading with you, looking you deep in your eyes.

His crimson eyes bore into yours, and for the life of you, you couldn’t find it within your heart to deny him.

How entirely unfair. He was dangerous and you knew it. Mateo needed to be kept safe but….

He needed help. You enjoyed his company.

You decided to trust him.

“I-…o-okay. Just…please, don’t put Mateo in any danger. He’s the only family I have left, please,” you said quietly, clasping your hands together.

Kirishima smiled the brightest smile you’d ever seen him muster, before standing up. Before you knew what was happening, he had you crushed in a hug.

“I promise!”

Ｅｎｄ ｏｆ Ｐａｒｔ ２

[goodvibesprompttime]

Chesitcuffs Au (MCYT?) (Sleepibois inc?) (DSMP?)

Chesticuffs AU:

Charlie, Tommy, and Wilbur are travelling the world in order to become better chesticuffs players.

Charlie and Wilbur are about equal levels, and take it more seriously.

Tommy is just along with Wilbur cause father Phil said to “watch your bro, Wil.” but doesn’t really take Chesticuffs seriously, and would rather be a Cuff (similar to a gladiator) like Techno.

Phil is a legendary Cuff, who encouraged his sons to go down the Chesticuffs route instead of the Cuff route. (Kristen was a legendary Chesticuff player, so it wasn’t that hard. But, Techno was persistent, and Tommy is just stubborn)

Tubbo is Tommy’s childhood best friend, who also got into Chesticuffs, and serves as a friendly rival to Tommy.

Maybe a rank system for Chesticuffs:

Bronze: Beginners, Novices, Where Most Hobbyists Are(Rank-Wise, not Skill-Wise)

Silver: Pretty Decent Players, Average.

Gold: Definitely Better Than Average, Gifted Players

Diamond: Competitive, Incredibly Talented, Has Some Of The Best Decks

Netherite: Legendaries, Undefeatable, Sometimes Referred To As “Gods”. (i.e Kristen, Foolish, DreamXD, even Phil and Techno can fall under these categories, but only skill-wise and not rank-wise).

You boost in rank by battles won, not skill

Bronze -> Silver: 50 won

Silver -> Gold: 100 won

Gold -> Diamond: 200 won

Netherite: 1,000 battles won in a row.

Maybe there are cute looking indicators of what players are what ranks.

Potential people(Cuff and Chesticuffs) the 3 can face/meet:

The Dream Team: A Cuff team that consists of Sapnap, George, and Dream, who also participates in Chesticuffs, being incredibly good at both. Sapnap is better at Cuffs, George is better at Chesticuffs, and Dream is pretty balanced.

You can barely tell they’re a team. The only way you can tell is because they wear bracelets/anklets of the other two’s colors (Dream has a red anklet and a blue anklet, George has a green bracelet and a red bracelet, and Sapnap has a blue bracelet and a green anklet)

Outside of their Cuff team:

Sapnap works at his dads (Bad and Skeppy) library, which doubles as his dads home. His dads are pretty religious, but don’t push it onto Sapnap.

George mostly stays at home - probably sleeping, probably cultivating mushrooms.

Nobody really knows where Dream goes during his time off, but he lives with Sapnap and George. And Patches.

The Syndicate: A Cuff team that Techno is in (includes Niki, Ranboo, and is sometimes monitored by Phil). Techno is the only one that doesn’t, publicly, play Chesticuffs. Niki does it as a hobby. Ranboo is on a team with Tubbo and balances being a Cuff and playing Chesticuffs.

Sometimes you can tell they’re a team, sometimes you can’t. They all wear Eyes of Ender in everyday wear and their Syndicate wear, which is the biggest identifier. There are also their code-names. Sometimes they wear face paint/makeup for fun.

Together, as a Cuff team, they are incredibly tough. Techno and Niki take the offensive, while Ranboo and Phil are more defensive.

Outside of their teams:

Techno is a writer, sometimes assists Niki at her bakery, sometimes just goes there to relax and hang out with his girl bud. Babysits for Ranboo sometimes.

Niki is at her bakery a lot, is also known as the “badass pink haired lady” by the local town kids and successfully is seen as intimidating and also mom shaped. Also babysits her grandsons for her step-son, Foolish. 

Ranboo mostly hands out with Tubbo, helping raise their beloved, adopted son, Michael. 

Phil stays at home: meditating, reading, waiting for Kristen to come home, waiting for his sons to come home, telling the local crows stories while feeding them, etc.

Schlatt: Doesn’t participate in Cuffs or Chesticuffs, finds both sports unappealing and rather tacky, however, he does gamble. He gambles on which Cuff team will win, on the Chesticuff team that will win. He’s also known for cheating allegations and… “boosting his odds” at winning. Nothing is proven.

Lowkey made his fortune so his son (*cough, cough* Tubbo *cough, cough*) could come home to something good or, if Schlatt died, Tubbo could receive a good amount of money - whatever happened first. Had to give up Tubbo when he was very young because they were “street rats” and Schlatt couldn’t bear to see his son suffer. Gave Tubbo up and alerted Phil where Tubbo was so at least Schlatt knew he was with someone safe - and could give Tubbo a good life.

Quackity: A person of many faces and talents, with even more connections. Need a new Chesticuffs deck? They’re your guy. Your armour is wrecked? He knows a gal. Need to find a Chesti/Cuff team/guild? They’ll give you directions to potential places. (Demiboy or Genderfluid Quackity, cause they’re a shapeshifter in this world)

Often, Quackity is just a wandering traveller, looking to charm some people, have some good food, good company, and a good day full of fun.

DreamXD: One of the best Chesticuff players, and an even better Cuff champion (albeit retired). Maybe Dream’s older brother - and they totally have a rivalry with nearly everything, competition once based on brotherly love and fun turned into something malicious. Practically everything Dream has done was to beat DreamXD, for once. The eldest brother.

(DreamXD, Foolish, and Dream - all adopted by Puffy)

Refuses to be on a team, even with other Netherites/legendaries.

Foolish: Awkward, retired Chesticuff Netherite player, dad, teaching his sons how to play Chesticuffs, hanging out with his mom on the weekend, trying to reconnect with an old friend (Eret), and doing his best to help his stepmom’s life be a bit easier (cause it’s probably not fun being surrounded by powerful people all the time), is trapped between his older and younger brother’s rivalry and has no idea what to do but distance himself.

Charlie and Wilbur are DEFINITELY for team clarity and will definitely suggest either uniforms or clear indicators that the three of them are a team. 

Maybe bandanas (a green one for Charlie, an orange or blue one for Wilbur, and a red one for Tommy).

[bloodpacks-archive]

false god

word count: 5.7 babey

summary: it’s fuckin chandrila!reader x obi-wan kenobi bro idk she’s poltically charged and ready to fight and I love her and so does obi-wan let’s go

warnings/note: none. idk. politics. but. star wars. but also lowkey me ranting abt how i hate america. u can choose to interpret it that way or not. i do not care. it is 2 AM as i’m writing this. there’s not even violence. so my advice is to just enjoy it. also. u know what. i would die if obi-wan did to me what his does to padme in this gif. so enjoy that too. also i should learn how to make those header shits for fics i am tired of this layout. ALSO please send me prompts to write more abt these two i love them and will probably write shit abt them no matter what so. anyway im going to bed ENJOY

The sun just barely shines through the clouds on Chandrila. The air is cold, biting at Obi-Wan’s skin a bit more than it had on Coruscant. From beside him, Anakin pulls his jacket tighter around himself. Even five years after Tatooine, he still struggled in the cold. But as they walk through the streets of the lower sector on their new assignment, Obi-Wan can’t help but smile at the way his padawan crosses his arms.

“Cold?” He asks Anakin, not letting his eyes break from the path ahead of him. He hears Anakin let out a sigh beside him.

“I’ll be fine, Master,” He replies. Obi-Wan glances over at him for just a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he looks over him.

“I’m sure we’ll find a place to stay soon.” He brings a hand and places it on Anakin’s shoulder, for just a moment. He shivers at the touch, and Obi-Wan decides to walk a little faster.

They’re here under strict orders to gather intel on the lower sectors, both of them out of their usual, warmer robes and in outfits a bit more fitting to the area. Obi-Wan scans the city as he walks, making note of the towering buildings, the signs that hang out into the street, colorful and a bit too bright for his own liking. He catches sight of a market up ahead, and quickly guides Anakin forward. It’s lively there, large groups of people passing between each other and surrounding various vendors.

As he gets closer, Obi-Wan quickly realizes that what he once believed to be a place where he could find shelter is rather a place of chaos. He can barely see over the heads of the crowds, and trying to catch the words on any signs is proving difficult. Anakin pulls him forward, slowly making their way out of the middle of the crowd and into less dense areas. Still, both their eyes wander about the market. Obi-Wan considers for just a moment if he should ask someone for help.

“Are you lost?” They both turn, coming face to face with a girl. She has a hood on, but her eyes are still visible. There’s a softness to them, something he isn’t sure he could explain, but he feels… safe. Oddly enough, she seems safe. Concern flows off of her in waves, and he decides that they don’t particularly have much to lose. And if they do, well, there’s a lightsaber hidden on him anyway. They’ll find a way.

“We’re just looking for a place to stay,” Obi-Wan explains. He notices the way her eyes flit over to Anakin, who—despite being fourteen—still looks young for his age. Her lips purse for a moment, and then she brings her gaze back up to Obi-Wan.

“I can help you, if you’d like,” She replies. Her voice is soft, careful in every sense of the word. “We have some extra room back home.”

Obi-Wan pauses for a moment, but then he glances over at Anakin, who’s still pulling his jacket tighter around himself, and quickly agrees.

She guides them out of the market with ease. Obi-Wan makes note of the small pack hanging off her shoulders, wondering, if only for a moment, what might be in it. She moves her hood to hide a majority of her face as they walk, but he finds that when the sun hits it just right through the clouds, her silhouette becomes visible through the thin fabric. He absently wonders what the purpose of the thin hood could possibly be in this kind of cold.

As the crowd begins to dwindle, she slows her pace, coming to walk beside him and Anakin. She looks over at the two of them, and pulls her hood back slightly, allowing her hair to poke out around the edges. He can see her eyes again, and they still hold that same softness to them, something that screams a want to help others. He can’t quite place it.

They’re trustworthy, Obi-Wan thinks, as she glances between them.

“So are you two brothers then?” She asks. Before Obi-Wan can react, Anakin is already speaking, finally beginning to forget the cold.

“Yeah, something like that,” He says, and she smiles down at him, kind and welcoming in the way her lips quirk at his voice.

“We have a lot of that here,” She replies. Obi-Wan furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head at her only slightly.

“What do you mean?”

“You must be fairly new to the lower sectors.” She sighs, holding her gaze forward for a while before speaking again. “Lots of us were abandoned. It- It gets hard down here. When we get to the house you’ll see it. None of us are related by blood, necessarily, but we’re family.” She turns once again, her eyes flitting between Obi-Wan and Anakin. “I have to assume it was the same for you.”

They walk for a while longer, a silence settling between the three of them. Obi-Wan has a habit of checking up on Anakin every few seconds, and whenever he looks over, his eyes are flitting about the city. From the dirty, poorly maintained apartments down on their level, to the shiny speeders up above. Obi-Wan can’t help but feel that all of it is slightly unjust. Especially if what the girl says is true.

Abandonment, he thinks. Surely, no one would abandon someone to a life like this.

“I don’t believe I ever caught your names,” She says suddenly.

“Ben,” He replies.

“And you can just call me Ani,” Anakin says from next to him. Obi-Wan smiles at that, and Anakin earns a bit of laughter from the girl next to them.

“Ani and Ben, huh? I like that.” And she smiles, for the first time since meeting her. It’s polite in nature, not quite reaching her eyes, but Obi-Wan finds it pretty nevertheless.

He really has to shake himself out of thinking she’s pretty.

“And what’s your name?” Obi-Wan asks then.

She replies, with a lilt to her voice that makes him want to lean in closer. Her name is lovely. And he knows he isn’t supposed to have attachments, and he won’t. But he’s allowed to be a little curious, right? It’s not his fault that he has a habit of wondering.

Specifically, he’s wondering what her smile looks like when it does reach her eyes.

But he’s only wondering.

—————

They reach the apartment a few moments later. It’s a few floors above base level, and surprisingly well kept. He notices a twi’lek girl working at a desk in the corner, and there’s a boy who glances up from the datapad he’d been attentively scrolling through. His eyes flit between the three of them, and then he gets a bit of a breathless smile on his face.

“Now who’d you bring home today?” He asks, amusement mixing with his voice.

“Shut it, Luca,” She replies, and Obi-Wan almost expects her to roll her eyes before she breaks into soft laughter, throwing the nearest pillow at him. The boy—Luca, glares at her after he catches the pillow, just a few moments before it would’ve hit him square in the face. Obi-Wan has to hold back a smile.

“Anyway,” She begins, “This is Ben and Ani. They needed a place to stay.”

Luca turns to them, offering a small wave before he, finally, is able to focus on his datapad in peace. She makes her way over to the desk where the twi’lek is sitting, putting her arms on the girl’s shoulders and making her finally look up from whatever she was working on.

“And this is Le’Ana. She’s too busy working on her jewelry to pay attention to either of you.”

Le’Ana glances over at Obi-Wan and Anakin, giving a quiet wave before exchanging looks with the other girl. She rolls her eyes at Le’Ana, and something passes between them that Obi-Wan can’t quite understand.

“Hey, why don’t you give the kid my bed tonight? I can take the couch,” Le’Ana says. She’s playing with a piece of jewelry, letting it twist in her hands.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. We really don’t want to intrude-“ Anakin starts, but then she stands in front of them, hands on her hips while she shakes her head.

“We’re the ones who brought you here. You’re not intruding by any means,” She replies. She places a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, and he smiles up at her, silently giving her his thanks. And then she turns to Obi-Wan, soft smile on her face.

“It’s getting late. You should both head to bed.” She glances over at Anakin once more, laughing slightly at how his eyes are half-closed, sleep pulling at him. “Le’Ana’s room is just down the hall. There’s two beds in there for you.”

“Thank you for everything,” Obi-Wan replies. She simply smiles at him, before turning to speak with Luca.

The room is small—not much bigger than anything either of them would’ve slept in while on a ship—but it’s certainly got a personality to it. Pieces of jewelry hang off of hooks in one of the corners, each one intricately made. Anakin walks over to inspect the pieces, curiosity alight in his expression.

“Don’t touch, Anakin.”

“I know, Master, I won’t.” He turns, offering Obi-Wan an innocent look. He rolls his eyes at Anakin as he takes off his robe, folding it neatly to store in the space beneath the bed.

“You’re tired, Anakin. You should sleep, we have a lot of work ahead of us.”

He simply nods in response, shedding his robe and taking off his boots before settling into the bed across from Obi-Wan’s.

“Master, what is it, exactly, that we’re looking for?”

Obi-Wan lowers his voice, leaning in closer to Anakin as he speaks, “There’ve been talks of Separatist cells down on these lower levels. We’re simply gathering intel, running an investigation of sorts, and then leaving.”

Anakin nods, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together, but he drops it, moving to finally lay down in his bed. Obi-Wan does the same, letting his eyes fall shut.

—————

Obi-Wan can’t sleep. Anakin is soundly asleep beside him, chest rising and falling at a steady rhythm. Obi-Wan sits up, stretching his back and his neck, before grabbing his robe and padding outside and into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind him. He shrugs on his robe, pulling it tightly around him. The air had grown colder as the night came, and a draft found its way into the apartment.

As he comes to the main room, he sees Le’Ana, fast asleep on the couch with a blanket wrapped tightly around her. He smiles. She looks peaceful.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Obi-Wan turns, and sees her sitting on the counter. Obi-Wan makes a concerned face as he glances in Le’Ana’s direction. “She’s fine. She sleeps through anything.”

Obi-Wan moves towards her, watching as she swings her feet over the edge of the counter she’s chosen to sit on. She’s without her hood this time, instead donning some loose-fitting pants and a t-shirt, a blanket draped around her shoulders. A mug of caf rests in her hands, and she moves as he approaches, grabbing a mug and pouring some of the extra caf she brewed into it. She hands it to Obi-Wan and he gladly takes it, letting the mug warm his hands.

“I guess you couldn’t sleep either?” Obi-Wan leans against the counter next to her, taking a sip from his mug.

“Never can,” She sighs. He glances up, eyes flitting across her face. She looks tired, but then she catches his eye and gives him another smile. “Wanna go for a walk?”

And he only nods, stepping away to allow her to get off the counter, both of them leaving their mugs behind. She trades the blanket around her shoulders for a long coat, and offers Obi-Wan one as well. He gladly takes it, wrapping it around himself as she leads him out into the city.

The moons are surprisingly bright despite the city lights. They shine onto the pathways, giving the city a pretty glow.

“I used to take walks like these a lot when I was younger,” She says. Obi-Wan stays quiet, watching her as she speaks. “I used to live farther into the outer reaches of Hanna City. Back then, I could walk for maybe two klicks and be out on the hills by the rivers.”

“Do you miss it?” He asks. She lets a breath of laughter pass her lips.

“More than you’d know. When I first moved here I would make the walk anyway but,” She pauses, sighing, “Hanna City isn’t what it used to be.”

A speeder passes over their heads, the soft whoosh causing them both to glance up.

“How has the city changed?” Obi-Wan asks. He notices the way her eyebrows furrow, the way her gaze falls to the ground. He silently hopes he hasn’t struck a nerve.

“Do you want to go out to the hills? We can talk there.”

And so they do. It takes them nearly 45 minutes to get to the outskirts of the city, and another 20 to get to the hills, but the moons are still bright, and the further they walk, the brighter the stars become. Eventually, they come to a point where the river is low, and they can sit on the grass nearby while still listening to the soft flow of water.

Obi-Wan looks over to her, and sees her staring back at the city, the lights softly reflecting in her eyes. They flutter shut for a moment, and she takes a breath.

“I used to think Hanna City was as perfect as any place could be,” She whispers.

“What changed?”

“I started listening. When I was younger, everywhere you turned there was a message saying you can be who you want to be. I believed that. For a very long time, I believed that Chandrila was the place where you could be anyone.”

She moves her gaze to her feet, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before she lays her arms over her knees, lightly resting her chin there.

“I want to believe it, I really do but-“ her eyes close, “-I’ve seen so much, Ben.”

Obi-Wan, quietly, cautiously, raises his hand to her shoulder. She leans into his touch, letting him slowly rub his thumb back and forth across the cloth there.

“And now there’s separatist groups down here and while I don’t know if I agree with the Separatists,” She pauses, her eyes meeting Obi-Wan’s, “I understand their reasons for supporting them.”

“I didn’t know there was much conflict on Chandrila,” Obi-Wan says.

“There never used to be. But we were all told from a young age that this was the world of opportunity. Now we’re grown up and- and we can’t find jobs, or proper housing, or anything, really. Le’Ana, Luca, and I, we’re lucky. Le’Ana’s managed to make quite a bit from her jewelry from time to time, and Luca’s been able to fix up droids for an alright living.”

“I have to assume that’s not how it’s been for everyone,” Obi-Wan replied. She sighs again, and then brings her eyes up to meet his. They’re worn, but caring nevertheless.

“Certainly not. I mean, even for me, I’m between jobs at the moment, to say the least.”

A beat of silence passes between them before she smiles up at him, moonlight dancing across her cheeks, and turns to fully face him, legs criss-crossed and chin resting in one of her palms.

“But that’s enough about me. What’s your story, Ben?” His false name falls past her lips with a playfulness he could certainly come to enjoy. He laughs, leaning back a bit as he wraps an arm around one knee.

“I’m afraid there’s not much of a story to tell,” He answers. She rolls her eyes at him, leaning forward to push his shoulder back while he laughs at her.

“There’s always a story to tell.” She tilts her head at him, narrowing her eyes playfully as she thinks of a question to ask. “Where are you from?”

“I don’t know my home planet, but I was raised on Coruscant,” He answers, truthfully. There’s a bit of wonder in her expression at the mention of Coruscant, and he lets his lips quirk up in a smile.

“Is it really as nice there as everyone says?” She asks.

“It has its problems, just like Chandrila, but I did love it there.”

“So why’d you leave?”

“I had business elsewhere.”

She rolls her eyes again. “You’re being elusive.”

“I told you there’s not much of a story,” Obi-Wan explains.

“Or perhaps you’re hiding something from me.” She leans in close, he can see the way her eyes flicker across his face, the way the moonlight illuminates every aspect of her. He’s exceptionally curious.

“Now why would I do that?” He replies. A smile tugs at his lips. And then she laughs, softly, letting her head fall towards his chest. Her fatigue is getting to her, he can tell. But then she sits back again, and then she lays down, her fingers playing with a blade of grass above her head as she looks up at the stars.

“Well then,” She begins, her eyes flit over to him, “if you don’t have a story, what do you wish it was?”

Obi-Wan thinks for a moment, of Qui-Gon, of him training Anakin. He thinks of the rules of the Jedi. He can’t help but admit that, on occasion, he wishes the rules were a little more… lenient. But most of all, he wishes there to be no threat to the galaxy. He wishes for the Jedi to be peacekeepers and simply that. He wishes there were no Sith, that he hadn’t killed the first Sith in centuries. He wishes he still had Qui-Gon’s wisdom, however turbulent he may have been at times.

“I wish it was happier,” He replies, finally.

Her hand, the one that was playing with the blade of grass, moves then, instead going to wrap her fingers around his. A gesture of comfort. Her eyes meet his, and there’s a soft smile upon her face.

“Me too,” She whispers.

The sky is slowly becoming brighter in front of them, so she rises, pulling Obi-Wan up with her.

“We should head back, before Ani thinks you got kidnapped.”

“He’d live.”

She gives him a look, lightly hitting him on the shoulder as they begin their walk back.

“Hey,” She whispers after a few moments, “Thanks for walking with me. It’s been so long since I’ve been out here.”

“It was much better than staring at the ceiling until the sun rose.”

“Maybe,” She teases, “But we really should’ve brought our caf with us.”

Obi-Wan lets a breath of laughter pass his lips. He finds that his curiosity about her is continually growing. He can’t help it. The more she talks, the more he wants to listen, and the closer he wants to be. From what he’s seen, she’s calming, caring, lovely in every aspect. And she seems genuine.

He hates being curious.

—————

The next night, Obi-Wan awakens when the moons are still bright. Once again, he finds himself making his way to the main room, the moonlight guiding him through the halls. And there she is, perched on the counter amid the food items he’d bought (as a thank you) earlier that day, quietly sipping on her caf.

“Do you ever sleep?” He asks as he approaches. She just shrugs, already handing him a mug.

“There’s a lot to think about at night,” She replies. Obi-Wan takes his spot next to her, leaning on the counter as they quietly speak, attempting to not disturb Le’Ana.

“Like?”

“Oh, the state of Chandrila, how nobody’s doing anything about it, the lies I’ve been told since I was a child.” She waves her hand about as she talks, swaying with her words. “That sort of thing.”

“You seem to be very politically charged.”

She turns, “Are you not?”

“Oh trust me, I have my opinions.” They both pause, sipping on their caf and watching moonlight softly pool in from the window. “Have you ever considered running for an office?”

“Plenty,” She says. “But I think I’d rather work in the background. The forefront seems… too much for me.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Obi-Wan asks. She smiles at him, carefully hopping off the counter. She walks towards the hallway.

“C’mon,” She says. Obi-Wan hesitates, just for a moment. “I promise nothing’ll hurt you.” There’s a smirk on her lips as she motions him towards her room.

She grabs his wrist as they enter, just barely, her touch light and airy. Her fingertips brush his skin there and it draws Obi-Wan in.

She places a datapad on a desk, motioning at the chair for Obi-Wan to sit. He watches carefully as she works, pulling up some file. Hope, is its label.

“I think I’m most proud of this one,” She says. She sets the datapad in front of him, leaning over his shoulders.

And in front of him, there’s ideas for policies. All under one common theme, to make the dream of Chandrila a reality. For everyone. Better orphanage systems, job stimulation, efforts to make housing more affordable.

And then, no more forgotten children. An effort to take kids off the streets and into better environments. Providing them with schooling and the resources to further their education or find jobs, whichever they should prefer.

“This is…” Obi-Wan can’t even finish. Every policy has a specific plan, an idea on how to achieve the goals. They aren’t all perfect, but they’re something. They’re actions.

“I don’t want any more kids to go through what Le’Ana, Luca, or I did,” She whispers.

Obi-Wan turns, “How are you going to get this out there?”

She moves so she leans on the desk, looking down at Obi-Wan as she speaks.

“I have an interview tomorrow. It’s with a potential senator.”

Without even thinking, Obi-Wan grabs her hand.

“That’s,” Obi-Wan lets out a breath, “Amazing.”

She glances down at where their hands are, his lightly holding onto hers. Obi-Wan watches her, and consciously, he knows he should move his hand, knows that this is beyond improper and knows that this is wrong.

He doesn’t.

She moves her hand, moonlight dancing between their fingers, and intertwines them.

“I feel like I’ve known you for a thousand lifetimes,” She whispers. “You’re oddly easy to talk to you.”

Her soft laughter fills the room.

“It’s because I’m so charming,” Obi-Wan replies. She rolls her eyes, lightly hitting his shoulder with her free hand.

“I take it back, you’re annoying.”

Silence passes between them. Her eyes lock with his and—there it is again. That curiosity. Obi-Wan swears it’ll be the death of him.

Her hand delicately moves to his face. Her fingers brush his cheek. He leans into the touch, not entirely sure of what he’s doing, but he finds he doesn’t particularly care. It’s happy here.

“Ben,” She whispers again, “Tell me if this isn’t what you want.”

He considers it, for just a moment. He hesitates. But the thing is—he wants to know what it’s like to kiss her. And so, for just a moment, he indulges in that curiosity. He leans forward, carefully, and kisses her. His hand goes up, tangling his fingers in her hair.

It’s happy here. In this moment, it’s warm. In this moment, the moonlight feels as though it is covering every inch of his body. In this moment, he feels as though he could stay here forever.

—————

When Anakin and Obi-Wan arrive back to the apartment from gathering intel the next day, she’s already gone to her interview. Luca’s working on an astromech as they all wait, eagerly, for her return.

“She’s been waiting on this for forever,” He says as he grabs another tool.

“She seemed awfully excited this morning,” Le’Ana speaks up from her desk. “But I don’t think she’s been sleeping much.”

“She never does when these things come up,” Luca replies. “Hey, Le’Ana, could I borrow-“

She’s already tossing the tool, something small that Obi-Wan can’t quite make out, before he’s even finished the sentence. He catches it, giving her a nod of thanks before he continues his work.

“How often does she have these interviews?” Anakin asks. Le’Ana shrugs.

“It’s been about two months since her last one, but it’s so sporadic.”

“We never really know what’s gonna happen,” Luca says.

The apartment returns to silence. Minutes pass that feel like hours. The holonet is playing on the table in front of Obi-Wan and Anakin, but neither of them are truly paying attention.

And then there’s the soft sounds of the door opening, and she walks in. She looks exhausted. Her eyes are low, her shoulders have fallen. She moves through the main room without really looking at anyone. Obi-Wan’s gaze follows her.

“Hey-“ Luca begins, but Le’Ana cuts him off with a look. The door to her room closes softly behind her, and the main room is left with a silence that feels much worse than before.

“I’ll go check on her,” Obi-Wan says. He can feel Anakin’s gaze on him as he gets up, but he continues anyway.

He closes the door behind him, and sees her sitting on her bed, head in her hands. He sits beside her, his hand going to her back. His touch is quiet, barely there, but she still leans into it.

“I’m so tired of this,” She says, muffled by her hands. Obi-Wan stays quiet, letting her continue. “I keep believing in the stupid notion that I can change things.”

“You can-“

“No! I can’t Ben!” She looks up then, her eyes watery as her eyes catch his. His chest sinks. “I’m sorry,” She whispers, “I’m not yelling at you I’m just so frustrated.”

“This wasn’t the one, that’s okay,” He says.

“I only have one chance left,” She replies. “There’s only one more candidate, and if I don’t get a job-“ She sighs, “I don’t even want to think about it.”

They stay quiet for just a moment.

“It’s just-“ She begins, “I’ve been told my entire life that I would find opportunity here. I was told that this was the place to be if you wanted to change things. If you wanted to work and help others, this was the place to do it.”

She stands up then, moving away from Obi-Wan as she stands near the front of her room.

“But I was lied to,” She says. “My entire kriffing I was lied to!”

Obi-Wan stays on her bed, watching as she paces back and forth, her voice gaining volume.

“All of the kriffing posters, the messages, the ads on the holonet, all of it, was a lie! They told me I could be whatever the hell I wanted to be here! I never wanted to be kriffing jobless!—Depending on two kids that I was supposed to help.” She turns to Obi-Wan, “I was supposed to be the one helping them! I can’t deal with all these lies anymore, Ben, I-“

“Obi-Wan,” He whispers.

“What?” She asks. She stops her pacing, she looks frozen.

“My name. It’s not Ben, It’s Obi-Wan.”

“You’re joking with me, right? You’re not-“

“I’m being serious, I promise.”

Obi-Wan can’t bring himself to look up at her. He knows this was for a mission, that he had to be careful about it, but he can’t help how awful he feels.

“What else have you lied about?” Her voice is broken, wavering.

“Nothing,” He replies.

“Is that why you wouldn’t tell me anything about who you are? Because the entire time you were lying to me anyway?”

“I promise-“

“Stop with the promises!”

He looks up. He regrets it. She looked exhausted before but, here, now, she looks betrayed.

“I wanted to tell you.”

“Why couldn’t you?” She asks.

And once again, Obi-Wan hesitates.

“I- I can’t tell you that-“

“Get out,” She whispers. “Please. Leave.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin leave Chandrila later that night, when the air is cold and the moonlight is shining on the streets.

—————

Coruscant is especially warm this time of year. Obi-Wan’s hair has grown longer since those days on Chandrila a year ago, now sweeping around the side of his face elegantly rather than awkwardly kept short. And what was once just stubble has turned into a beard, which Anakin has described his adamant hatred for quite often. Obi-Wan keeps it partially to annoy him.

But it’s a year later when Obi-Wan and Anakin are called to guard Senator Mon Mothma on her visit to Coruscant. The assignment brings back memories. Ones that Obi-Wan wishes he could forget. He often lays at night, watching one of Coruscant’s many moons, and thinks about that night on the hills, or the night in her room.

He hates how he still feels that curiosity. And he hates how he still feels that sinking in his chest when he thinks of her.

Obi-Wan and Anakin stand on the landing port, patiently waiting for the transport to arrive with the Senator and her team. Master Windu is with them, fully prepared to give introductions when the time is right.

In the distance, Obi-Wan sees the transport. He straightens his shoulders and back, and Anakin follows him, both of them with their hands behind their backs. The transport lands with ease, guards stepping out before the Senator and the rest of her advisors.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes to take a breath, and when he opens them, he swears he’s seen a ghost.

Because what once was an exhausted young girl, with barely anything to her name. A girl who looked out at the stars with him the first night she’d met him, a girl whose laugh felt like home, and a girl who kicked him out a year ago, was now standing in front of him. Her hair had gotten shorter, and now she stood before him in regalia that was elegant enough to combat the Senator’s.

Where she once had her thin hood and her baggy comfortable pants, she now had red, formal pants with a white and gold top. Her gaze first met Master Windu’s, and then her eyes quickly scanned the room before, finally, landing on Obi-Wan.

And then, suddenly, she had that same caring look.

“Senator,” Master Windu said, “It’s wonderful to have you here on Coruscant. Master Kenobi and his padawan Anakin Skywalker will be escorting you throughout your time here.”

“Thank you, Master Windu,” The Senator replied.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flick back to her throughout the entire night. As he and Anakin guide the Senator, he finds that his curiosity has come back. He wants to know what she’s thinking. How she’s feeling. If she’s as much of a mess as he is.

It’s a lot, all at once.

That night, in his temporary room, just a few doors down from the Senator, he finds himself watching the moons again when there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Come in,” He replies, and he’s met with the sound of someone coming from behind him. He’s too busy watching the moonlight to turn, he already knows who it is.

“It’s not exactly the Chandrilan skies, but I suppose it’ll do,” She says. She comes up beside him, leaning onto the window sill.

“I assume your last chance worked out?” Obi-Wan asks.

“After you left-“

“You kicked me out-“

“You lied to me-“

“I couldn’t tell you I was a Jedi!”

Their eyes meet, and they both break into quiet laughter.

“You’re as annoying as ever,” She says.

“It’s part of my charm,” He replies.

She rolls her eyes, lightly knocking his shoulder with hers.

“Anyway, after that mess, I got another interview scheduled for the following week. Then, before I knew it, I was working for Senator Mon Mothma.”

The moonlight catches on her clothes, the gold detailing in her top lighting up. It gives her this glow, one that Obi-Wan can’t explain.

“I suppose I should’ve been paying more attention to Chandrilan politics,” Obi-Wan says.

“If you had you would’ve seen the implementation of a certain policy named no more forgotten children,” She replies.

Obi-Wan can’t help the way he breaks out into a smile. She notices, because her eyes light up in a way Obi-Wan would adore to see more of. She lets her eyes fall over his face, and slowly, carefully, she raises a hand up to his cheek. Obi-Wan lets his eyes close, leaning into her touch.

“Your hair’s longer,” She whispers.

“And yours is shorter,” He replies.

“It fit the whole ‘political advisor that could murder you if she wanted’ look.” Her lips quirk into a smile as she speaks, her head tilting as she jokes.

“Obi-Wan,” She whispers. His name feels like a calling when it comes from her lips. He closes his eyes again, letting himself lean in closer.

“Yes?”

“I’ve missed you,” She says.

“A little dramatic for only knowing someone for three days, don’t you think?”

Her head falls down to his chest, her arms going to wrap around his neck.

“You are so annoying.”

“And yet you came back.”

She looks up then, “I did.”

Obi-Wan brings a hand up to her cheek, and she smiles, bright, the kind that reaches her eyes. And then, without reproach, and without thinking about the Jedi, or the code, or his curiosity, he pulls her in, and kisses her.

The moonlight feels like home, when it wraps the two of them together in its glow. And in that moment, Obi-Wan felt happy. Truly, undeniably, happy.

[foolishlovebugbaby]

stupid cupid | part 2

part 1 | part 3 | part 4

college!au / bang chan x fem!reader

Summary: bang chan is always complaining about being single since birth, so best friend reader decides to play cupid and sets him up. big mistake.

Genre: angst-y?? with some fluff later on idk you decide (a Lot of slow burn so idk how many parts this multi-shot will have lmao)

Warnings: like a few swear words

to stardust: gosh i love you

chan stared at his phone, mouth slightly agape and heart slowly picking up speed. he didn’t put much thought into that message; all he knows was that it just came naturally to him and that he didn’t have to think twice before pressing send. but now, the longer he stared at the message the more he felt increasingly anxious about what you would say. the sound of his phone dinging brought him out of his thoughts.

from stardust: i know.

his lips twitched into a slight smile at your reply. always quoting star wars, he thought to himself fondly. but now he had a different dilemma; he felt a strange fluttery feeling erupt in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t explain why. he felt his cheeks warm, but immediately brought himself back into reality.

that was his first mistake.

i’m her best friend, nothing more. that’s all there is to it. 

he’s yet again brought back into reality when Hana emerges out of the restroom, smiling brightly at him. 

“ready to go?” she says bright-eyed

“ready as i’ll ever be.” his smile matches hers, though not as bright-eyed, and they head towards the exit.

when you first told him that you found someone that was willing to go on a blind date with him, he was genuinely excited. 

something about the way your eyes glimmered with excitement and happiness made him feel just as excited and happy. you always did seem to have that effect on him- whenever you were happy, he was just as happy as well; whenever you were sad, he was just as sad as well. 

but when you told him that the date was to take place today- on a wednesday evening- something faltered in him. he always looked forward to your movie nights together- it was his one break during the week where he felt the most at ease- and it made his heart sting at the thought of you finding it easy to replace it with something else. 

she’s doing it for me; i should be grateful, he thought to himself the night before. 

unbeknownst to him, you actually didn’t realise the significance of the date until it was too late; it made sense to you to schedule the blind date during a day when both chan and hana were free, (which were wednesdays for chan and thursdays for hana), and so you set the date without thinking. 

he couldn’t lie- the date went pretty well; she was as charming as ever and they were able to hold up conversations pretty well. but in between the moments of silence and pauses his mind often drifted back to your shared apartment and what it is you would be doing.

on the dining room table studying, maybe.

or maybe on the couch flicking through the channels, indecisive as ever.

he’d smile to himself during thoughts like that. 

a part of him felt a tug of longing to be there on your couch that was coming apart at the seams with you eating instant ramen rather that being at the café tables eating grilled salmon with hana. but he buried that feeling deep within him the moment it came into his mind. 

this was his second mistake.

he’d grown accustomed to it- burying away thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having.

“i had a great time tonight, chan.” hana said meekly as they walked down the sidewalk together, side by side.

“so did i.” he replied, smiling softly at her.

“uhm, i-i’d really like to meet you again sometime- i-if that’s okay with you, of course.” she stuttered out, her face blushing a deep red. he thought that shade of crimson was cute on her.

smiling to the ground, he softly replied a gentle “i’d like that.” not knowing that his heart did not reciprocate his words.

“honey, i’m home~” chan sung cheerily as he entered the apartment. just as he was about to go on a tangent about how cold it was outside, he spotted the lump of blankets on the couch sheltering your sleeping figure, soft snores emitting. he quietly chuckled and softly made his way over to you.

he stared at you fondly; your body tightly wrapped up in the blanket and your nose flushed red from the nipping cold of the air conditioning. 

he liked this shade of crimson a lot better.

he saw the tv playing a nature documentary on meerkats and he sighed to himself.

couldn’t find a movie you liked? tch, you shouldn’t have sent me off then, silly.

 usually you’d be asleep either on his shoulder or on his lap, but seeing you all alone, brows furrowed and freezing from the cold, he could not help but feel a pang of loneliness in his chest, even if it wasn’t his own. 

so he picked you up and carried you into your room just like he would any other night, and actively chose to ignore how nice it felt to hold you in his arms and feel your head snuggle up into the crook of his neck.

just like he would any other night.

and that was his third mistake.

“how many times are you going to read ‘all the light we cannot’ see in a single semester?” your friend and fellow library clerk, felix, said. you both were on a break from arranging books on the shelves and signing off on borrowed books to students. 

“leave me alone, bro. it’s been a hard two weeks, i need some cheering up.” you pouted and stuck your tongue out at him. 

“so reading a heavy, lowkey depressing novel set during war times is your version of ‘a cheering up’?” he snorted and shook his head at you.

“it’s a literary masterpiece, thank you very much.” you retorted, focusing back on the book.

“is it safe for me to assume that your ‘hard two weeks’ have something to do with a certain dimpled, box-dyed blonde?” he quipped from next to you and suddenly all the words on the book seemed like gibberish. you tried your best to look everywhere and anywhere to avoid his gaze and to try and not look suspicious (which, in hindsight, only made you look even moreso), but failed miserably at both.

yes.

“...no.” you said meekly, putting the book down and scratching the nape of your neck.

 “has anyone told you that you’re a horrible liar?” he asked sarcastically.

you couldn’t help it; after the blind date and after hearing about how well it went from chan, you felt slightly disappointed. a part of you- a very small, very tiny (but still existent) part- hoped that somehow the date didn’t go very well. but it did, and now you felt both disappointed and angry at yourself for being a terrible friend. 

“oh sue me for missing my best friend, geez.” you said frowning.

during these last two weeks, you weren’t able to see much of chan. he was either too busy at his day job, too busy at his lectures, or too busy hanging around with hana. the only times you were able to see him were during your wednesday movie nights, in the mornings cooking up something burning for breakfast, and whenever he’d come to pick you up after work. and although you were grateful for those moments, it just felt empty otherwise.

“even i can tell that you’re not just missing him. sis, you’re basically pining over the guy. when are you gonna realise that maybe, just maybe you look at him as a little more than just a friend?” he questioned you, genuinely worried and frustrated about your current state. his brutal honesty hit you where it hurt (usually his brutality was what made you like his company- heck, it’s why you even started to get close to him- but now it just rubbed salt in a wound you didn’t know you had.)

“never, because it’s not true,” lie. “he’s my best friend- we’re just best friends, nothing more, nothing less. a-and besides, even if i hypothetically did like him, it’d be unfruitful- he’s into hana, hana’s into him. there’s no space for me in that equation.” that last sentence was quieter than the others, your voice failing to mask your disappointment. it was the cold, hard truth and there was nothing you could do about it.

you fought these conflicting feelings every single day, not wanting to jeopardize the friendship that you and chan had as you cherished it more than anything. two years went by just fine, so why did these feelings come up now? were they there all along? did it really take one person being added into your dynamic to make you realise so much? endless questions plagued your mind, some you didn’t even want the answers to.

felix sighed next to you, feeling bad about prodding at your fresh wound. 

“you know i care about you, i just don’t want you to keep pitying yourself like this. you deserve to be selfish this time, especially if it’s concerning the one person you love.” he rested a hand on your shoulder gently and you could see the genuine concern he had for you. 

was it true? did you actually love chan in that way? you still didn’t know, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

“well, my shift’s over. i’ll get going now.” he stood up and smiled down at you, you returning that smile even though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

after muttering a “get home safe,” and “see you on monday.”, you were left to your own devices in your dimly lit library. 

your hands fumbled with the keys to the library doors, the cold nipping at your fingertips. it was closing time now, and there was still no call from chan about picking you up, so you figured you’d wait for him at the sidewalk benches for when he did pull up. 

so you waited, and waited, constantly checking your phone for the time and shivering from the cold. 

12:34 am your phone read, but then the drained battery sign flashed, and your phone completely went black.

“fuck!” you whisper-yelled to no one in particular. it was late, the night was cold, and now your phone was dead. 

just my fucking luck.

just as you thought things couldn’t get any worse, thunder erupted from the sky, and not long after did pelting raindrops follow. 

“are you fucking kidding me right now?!” 

there was no shelter shielding you from the incessant rain, so you sucked in a breath and ignored the tears welling up in your eyes and began sprinting home in the cold, harsh rain. 

the reality that chan forgot about you hit colder and harsher than winter rain. 

after 15 minutes of running in the unforgiving rain, you finally made it home. albeit drenched, freezing and broken hearted, you were home. and you were alone. again.

something about how dark it was in the apartment, and how the thunder rumbled and the rain pelting against the windows made you feel even lonelier, and you didn’t think that was possible.

you were tired- no, exhausted, by everything; college, your job, these fucking feelings, and tonight just amplified the pain in your chest even more. so you shut the door and slowly slid down to the floor, not caring about the fact that your clothes were drenching the cold floor beneath you, or that it was pitch black everywhere. you didn’t have time to care about those things. 

as hard as you fought the tears welling in your eyes they still over flowed and ran down your cheeks. one became two, and two became full on sobs. he forgot about me, you thought. have i always been this easily replaceable? 

it hurt- it hurt so much. but you didn’t know what to do about it. in that moment you resented him. he was supposed to be there for you like he promised all those years ago, but he wasn’t. but more than that you resented yourself more- for setting him up on that stupid date, for not realising your feelings sooner, and for having feelings for someone that didn’t reciprocate them back. 

you let yourself cry. you let yourself cry everything out, choking back each sob. you let yourself cry until you couldn’t anymore; until you exhausted all your tears. then you took in a breath.

i can’t be selfish like this, you thought to yourself. 

i’m not going to depend on him like this. his priorities have changed, and so should mine.

in a house too loud and on a chair too uncomfortable, chan grew increasingly worried about you. it was almost 1am and after multiple fruitless calls, he became frantic.

he was at a party that hana had invited him to, and the blasting music and constant “hello’s” to people he had never seen before dragged on longer than he thought. so when he checked his phone to remind him what time it was, it was already way passed the time he was supposed to pick you up.

fuck fuck fuck

without muttering a goodbye to hana, or anyone for that matter, he picked up his keys and bolted through the front door. 

the music must’ve been extremely loud, because he was met with unsuspecting rain and thunder. but he could care less about the fact that he was getting soaked on the way to his car. all he could think about was how sad and angry and hurt you must be for being left alone in the cold and rain.

god, please tell me she didn’t have to walk home in this weather.

he drove as fast as his second-hand toyota corolla allowed him to, speeding through the highways and possibly running more than one red light.

he didn’t care that it was dangerous, or that he would get a ticket in the morning. what he cared about was you.

the drive felt so agonizingly long, even if it was just 20 minutes. but 20 minutes felt like forever when he was stuck worrying about you

there was no one he hated more than himself at that moment. he felt so cruel. what asshole forgets about their bestfriend like that?

he felt so sorry, so utterly disappointed in himself and his heart broke with each passing second. he was so angry at himself and so overwhelmed that he felt tears stinging his eyes. but how could he cry? you were the one left alone on a night like this, not him. you were the one breaking, not him.

the moment he reached the apartment, he slammed his car door and dashed up the stairs and into the elevator. he fumbled for his keys, breath heavy and panting, heart pounding against his ribcage. when he finally did open the door, he immediately spotted you.

you were sitting at the dining table, studying the night away as you usually do.

but he couldn’t help but notice the way your shoulders drooped, cover by a blanket even though the heater was on, or that you nose and cheeks were red and that you were constantly sniffing, or that your hands shook every time you took a pause between writing. 

seeing you like that only increased the hurt he felt for you. but what ached the most, though, was the fact that you didn’t even look at him when he entered the room. 

he wore an expression of hurt- one that you didn’t see as you were too busy fighting yourself to focus on the essay plan you were doing- and let out a staggered breath.

“y-y/n? i-i’m really sorry. i-i was at a party and i-i got carried away and i didn’t realise how late it was- fuck i’m so sorry. there’s no excuse for it. are you okay?” by the time he finished he was kneeling next to you with one hand on your knee and one on your shoulder, trying to get you to look at him, but you just continued to focus on words that began to make no sense to you.

“please just talk to me. did you have to go home in this weather? was it raining while you got home? i know the buses don’t operate at this hour, b-but please tell me you took a taxi.” he knew the answer even though you didn’t say it, but he continued to ramble. the trembling in his voice broke your heart, and if it weren’t for the fact that you exhausted all your tears earlier, some would have been slipping by now. 

you were still hurt, and you didn’t have anything to say to him; you couldn’t tell him that your phone had died; that yes, you did have to walk in this terrible horrible weather and that no, you were not okay, because all the words were stuck in your throat. so you coldly shrugged your shoulder to get his hand off of it. 

it broke him. 

“please just look at me. i know you’re upset, but just- please.” you didn’t budge. 

“y/n.” he said your name a lot firmer this time but there was no hiding the sorry in his voice. so you looked at him.

it devastated him to see your bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. it devastated him to see you force a thin, straight smile that tried to hide the quiver of your lips. but what absolutely killed him was seeing the way your eyes trembled when they looked at him. 

without a second thought he wrapped his arms around your small frame and pulled you up, burying his face into your neck and whispering i’m sorry and please forgive me over and over again. 

you closed your eyes. it had been so long since you last hugged him. so long since you last smelt his perfume like this. so long since he held you in his tight embrace. you missed it. you missed him. a lot.

you weakly wrapped your arms around his middle, sighing. feeling him hold you broke away all your resolve and your heart was quick to forgive him, even though you didn’t want to. but your heart was fickle when it came to him.

always has been.

“i’m okay, channie. it’s okay,” hearing you say his name softly like that made him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“i forgive you.” he closed his eyes.

i really don’t deserve you.

well that took a lot out of me goddamn. plz like and reblog and stay tuned for the next update ☆(❁‿❁)☆

[kuntrabida]

2. the axon snaps and thoughts can’t travel (a rant abt COVID-19, senior year spring, and college in the fall)

12 may 2020

the gap year. the fall sem. the jump cut. the FUTURE. much on my mind right now folks lmao (prob folk in singular since like one (1) person’s gonna read this ashvcxjkv)

okay so let’s break this DOWN ig. yea LET’S unpack my inner psyche and my mental baggage at this point because i’m sure that i can’t be the only one feeling this way and even if i am, i’d like to get it off my chest and not rant to the same five people who’ve heard me talk about the same sad subject throughout the entire duration of quarantine asdjfkvcxufdsw

let’s start with senior year haHA :) still haven’t gotten over that xoxo even tho i’ve tricked myself into thinking that i have! gonna refer to it as ye olde Jump Cut because that’s exactly what all this feels like... like mother nature just threw the video file of my high school experience into a fuckinn Premiere timeline or smth and slammed her fist on the W key (an esoteric reference, i know, i know, my bad, but iykyk). 

THE JUMP CUT – senior year’s over and i know it’s a stupid fucking thing to be upset about during a LITERAL GLOBAL PANDEMIC where people are losing and risking their lives and entire livelihoods are being upended but i still... can’t help but feel upset and terrified and devastated about what i’ve always viewed as this buffer period in my life between high school and college to just VIBE and figure myself out a little bit more being cut short. especially when, for once, things were going so well.  

god, the last thing i wanna do is sound dramatic and utterly tone deaf because I RECOGNIZE my privilege and how incredibly fortunate i am to have a roof over my head and food in my fridge and a bed with a damn duvet cover to sleep in at night but i’m... so fucking sad. i’ve BEEN so fucking sad, and i think what’s even worse is the fact that i’ve been DENYING how fucking sad i’ve been feeling because i don’t think i’m... allowed to be sad in this situation? but at the same time i consciously understand that my feelings are valid and everything... it just feels like legitimately everything else in the world right now dwarfs all my concerns combined. but alas. here i am, making a blog post about my feelings to finally try and sort them out...

i just aghsdfhxhzjlk i wasn’t finished. that really is the best way to put it. i wasn’t finished with any of it. and i suppose a lot of that is my own fault for taking all the good times for granted (but also lowkey the fault of idek who... american society? for romanticizing and commodifying the culmination of high school oop)/

i feel like so many people focus on those big milestone events associated with senior year: prom, graduation, senior awards, etc. but to me personally, and to nearly every one of the friends i’ve talked to, it’s the little things that matter most — the absence of which we feel the deepest. i miss spilling coffee on myself in the cafeteria and burning frozen pastries in the toasters and complimenting people’s outfits in the hallways and staying in the building from dawn till dusk and eating takeout on the floor and hastily texting my friends at the end of the school day asking if they wanted to hang out or if they could give me a ride home and i MISS spontaneous sushi and starbucks excursions and quiet heart to hearts in coffee shops and last minute target runs and stressing out about music events and belting in the practice rooms and learning choreography in parking lots where confused drivers would momentarily glance over and just KEEP ON DRIVING and lying on the ground in one of the school’s hallways facing the sun when the light would hit JUST RIGHT through the glass and i could close my eyes and pretend i was at the beach or on an island or in a canyon somewhere or SOMETHING, anywhere, anywhere but there. and i feel this chasm in my throat whenever i think about it because looking back at those moments, i realize that there’s literally no place i’d rather be right now than inside my high school building on a normal ass day dealing with normal ass problems with exceptional, radiant, life-giving souls there to have my back and support me and hug me wow, GOD, hug me. wow how i miss hugs. and I miss my friends. shit. 

hell bro i even miss the days where everything would become a little too much for me and i’d have to find recluse in a digital media classroom and the scent of old lemon-laced coffee grounds as they brewed into dingy styrofoam cups and wandered through the halls with me during the period, into the music room where i literally grew UP and found my voice and discovered validity in my own identity and all that JAZZ and into the bathrooms where i’d spend such subtle, unsuspecting mornings with friends still practically sleepwalking and FUCK bro. frankly i’m just not ready to jump into a life where all the things i hold dear are “remember when”s. i can’t imagine this entire world that i’ve built for myself being a thing of the past, a thing that i’ll look back on as one of the best fucking times of my life even though i never realized it when it mattered, a thing i still want so so so much more of, that i am not and may not ever be ready to let go. i want it all back. but i know getting upset over it is a futile pursuit, because there’s nothing i can do, and that just fuels this feedback cycle of anger and hopelessness and denial and back again. 

i do think of that good ol’ winnie the pooh quote, though. “how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” but it doesn’t really make anything hurt any less. and i guess i’m just tired of hurting lol. 

THE FUTURE – dawg what the fuck is happening with colleges in the United States right now bro what is the protocol what do i DO¿

pretty damn self explanatory. my defense mechanism has ALWAYS been, “at least things will be better a couple months from now!!!!” and yeah, with university and the reality of getting to attend my dream college fast approaching i did believe that for a hot second but CORONA DAWG CORONA just plunges everything into the sea of uncertainty. i know i’m not the only one frustrated by this damn virus and i should be comforted by the unity we all have in our confusion but lmao i do not feel any better! no! one! has! any! answers! asdjfkvlcxvjl being a graduating high school and incoming college student right now is so FUCKING confusing and frightening and once again i want to acknowledge what an incredible privilege it is to even have the option of a higher education open to me but it’s such a multifaceted and unpredictable issue this year and thinking about the future — again my go-to defense mechanism and at the very least a worthy consideration since i’ll be putting down hella dollars for it — has been the cause of so much stress... 

THE FALL SEM – i! don’t! know! if! it’s! gonna! be! on!line! and i am not planning on staying in my house any longer for a goddamn variety of reasons soo i have no clue how to plan for this! no one does right now! 

our administration keeps affirming that we’re planning for a return to normalcy in the fall semester but a considerable amount of students and experts alike are saying that it’s essentially a cover so no one’ll panic and decline or defer their acceptances. SO MANY OTHER COLLEGES are revealing their contingency plans to have an online semester and ahaHA if i have to STAY in this HOUSE for ANOTHER 4 MONTHS that would FRICKIN SUCK DAWG lmaO i’ll leave it at that! so i’m: very much panicking! 

i know that things are so uncertain right now and there’s really no point in trying to predict what’s going to happen in the next couple of months because so many unknowns remain. i know that a lot of universities are gonna be in deep shit if they don’t open in the fall but at the same time, if it’s a damn public health risk it’s definitely better to keep as many people home as possible. but i have no CLUE what institutions are gonna end up doing and again, literally no one does either! i was listening to a podcast yesterday about university plans for the upcoming academic year and i got asdhvjckxv so stressed when they said that we could be one week away from the start of the school year and things could still be drastically different the next week... there’s just no way of knowing much of anything and god i hate that. it’s making me so goddamn anxious. 

i really doubt things are going to be back to normal in New York in the fall sooo...? i don’t know man again it comes down to asking people questions they don’t have the answers to and that’s just incredibly frustrating because i just want to know ONE THING for certain right now. ONE THING! idk i just wish that my college would be a little more transparent about their plans as they move along and figure things out but i know that’s not feasible. at the very least i hope things will be safe enough for them to make dorming on campus an option — freshmen have a pretty ample amount of singles available anyway. but if i have to spend the first semester of college onLINE in THIS HOUSE that’s... gonna suck. especially because i’m still probably going to be paying thousands of dollars for it which is, as my grandmother says, foul! 

THE GAP YEAR – to defer or not to defer? that is the question. 

so naturally in preparation for a potentially wonky ass academic year i’m considering deferring enrollment. but lmao... the deadline to do so is in uh *checks watch* three (3) literal days so. don’t know about that chief! 

like, i know i’m PROBABLY NOT gonna end up taking a gap year. but i guess it’s just the fact that i have so much more canvas space to daydream about it that makes it so appealing... there are so many more possibilities that i can think of that are more likely to be open to me. then again, nothing’s guaranteed. not even my own health in the fall. which is also pretty fuckin scary as hell.

y’all wanna know where i get my gap year daydream fuel? UNJADED JADE. bruh i’ve been binging her videos like MAD especially the ones where she interrails Europe during her gap year and UGH. it seems incredible. and that makes things even more confusing because i really don’t know what the right decision to make is right now. to defer or not to defer... 

again it’s all so heavily influenced by unknowns. of all the things that could happen, i’d much prefer to have a regular freshman year fall with the people in my class whom i’ve already been getting to know pretty well through groupchats and social media and the like. they’re a pretty dope bunch and i think college with them is gonna be a hoot and a goddamn half. but if i’ll end up just staying home and watching zoom lectures in my basement anyway... i’d much rather be taking a gap year. 

and i’ve been brainstorming what i’d do during this gap year (again, thanks Unjaded Jade for the god-tier content agh) and there’s just like... so many options. i could get a goddamn JOB and start saving up for tuition instead of paying tens of thousands for online school. hell with the money i make working full time i could probably save up enough to afford an apartment so at the very least i could move out of my house into a place where i feel more comfortable. and lmao I: s a l i v a t e at the thought of using that time to focus on my writing, too. the amount of writing i could get done in a year of empty calendar space... glorious. what an utterly glorious prospect. 

and of course, i’d love to fucking travel, volunteer (with a reputable and well-intentioned organization) in a foreign country, do a workstay abroad, take a train across america, but again, i don’t even know if any of that’s going to be feasible in the fall. it’s so FRUSTRATING because i’ll think of a possibility and then another one comes in and completely shuts the former down. 

and it’s not like i can ask anyone for advice right now because we’re ALL none the wiser. plus, i’ve realized that frankly, even if it’s unreasonable, i don’t want anyone to tell me that my plans for a gap year aren’t feasible. it’s such a petulant thing to say... but i don’t want anyone to add to my sense of there being a limited amount of options that i can take advantage of because everything’s already so goddamn stifling as is. i guess the prospect of a gap year excites me so much because it seems like a year where i don’t have to be defined by anyone or anything but myself. and that’s so fucking liberating. 

i just want the freedom to imagine right now because that’s when i feel happiest, but at the same time i’m afraid to get my hopes up for anything because i have this sinking feeling that the absolute worst case scenario is going to become reality. lmao. people in my state aren’t even fucking social distancing correctly so i’m damn sure that we’re in for a second and a third wave and that’s gonna suck but people are stupid as hell :)  

lol on that positive note, thanks for reading this... increasingly depressing and chaotic rant. don’t really think i’m doing this “blog” stuff right but if you got this far, i love you. leave a note if you so please, comment your thoughts, reblog if you’d like (still don’t really understand the difference between reblogging and reposting on this app but lmao feel free to click the boxy arrow thing), and stay safe and healthy and all that jazz <3

[corvid-knight]

Questionable Sleeping Habits

Dave has issues with sleeping.

(read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822006)

Anyway. Staying awake for this amount of time at one go is fucking stupid, and you know it. You really do know it. You're completely and totally aware that you should've given in and passed out maybe eight hours ago. You're also completely and totally aware of a fuckload of other shit, some of which most definitely isn't real.

Yeah. You've been lowkey hallucinating for a good few hours—how many hours you don't actually know; your time sense goes out the window when you pull this shit. Apparently the Knight-y Time-y powers don't prevent that from happening, which is probably a blessing because this way if you want to watch a clock you're gonna have to find one, and you know for a fact you'll get distracted with trying to confirm the unreality of the ghosts you're seeing before you do that.

Damn, but the ghosts suck. They're not even ghosts, you've hung out with ghosts on the not-too-rare occasions when your dreams take a left turn into the dream bubbles, and these are just shadows out of your head. (Or you could call them what the fuck they are, hallucinations. But that's too close to admitting how dangerously far you are into sleep deprivation.)

(But then again you just thought that, so you know you're admitting it by calling it anything else.)

There's Bro, shadowing you, a step behind and a step to your left, katana hanging loose in one hand and blood dripping down from the messy hole in his gut, leaving tiny smoking stains where each drop hits the floor. There's John, pacing back and forth in front of you, his face twisted as he snarls imprecations you can't quite hear at you. (Sometimes you wish your brain would just give in and cough up an aural component to the hallucinations. You don't think it could be worse than trying to lipread and find out what the fuck you did to make John hate you. Except of course it's not John. The only one here to hate you, is you.) There's a kid that you don't want to admit is your warped and imperfect version of yourself at six years old, grabbing at ghost-Bro's legs and crying soundlessly as his hands pass through.

They're not ghosts, you tell yourself. Not fucking ghosts.

Jesus fuck you need to stop walking through the halls. You need to pick a nice quiet corner in a room nobody uses—there's a lot of those here, there was absolutely no need to build this palace as stupid-big and fancy as it is but Roxy wanted to and there wasn't a reason not to either—find a spot nobody's going to pull you out of for twelve or fifteen hours, and just fucking crash.

Otherwise? You'll end up passed out somewhere embarrassing, get the chewing-out you know you so richly deserve. You should just take a shortcut to that step. Find Karkat, find John, find fucking Jade if she's around and let whichever one you come across get a good look at how out of your fucking head you are right now. Only problem is, you don't trust yourself to not simply dissolve at any contact, and even though you're mostly good with expressing emotions like a normal(ish) human being (usually), right now you have Bro's blank but disapproving gaze on you, and you can't fucking think of curling up next to someone and talking to/at them until you can manage to fall asleep. That's an act of weakness, or he'd have seen it as one. Or it's an admittance of weakness, and he'd count that as worse.

The kid—lil' Dave, the stupidest fucking ghost here—sobs, violently enough that you think you might hear a faint whisper of it, and abandons Bro, dodging ghost-John's kick and flinging himself at you. You have to close your eyes before he gets close enough to (not) touch you. You can't fucking stand the look of pain on his face when you turn out not to be a safe haven either.

With sight removed, sound decides to make a surprise appearance in the Amazing Dave Shitshow. It's garbled and horrible and loud enough to make you flinch, angry voices and a sustained metallic whisper of a sword being drawn and pained panicked breathing all jumbled up into what hell must sound like if it could be bothered to exist at all. Still better than the visual equivalent, so you keep walking with your eyes closed. Not like there's anything to run into.

Except after some length of time that's more than seconds and less than minutes, that's precisely what you do. You run into someone, or maybe they run into you but probably not, and because your eyes are shut and your hands are shoved into your pockets you eat dirt, pretty much. Your shades go somewhere that isn't in front of your face, the air whuffs out of your lungs as you hit the floor, and the voices in your head go mostly silent as your eyes open.

Fuck fuck fuck—it's him. Bro. Him. Leaning over you, shades reflecting you on the ground in front of him, he's not a fucking hallucination because you just ran into—

"Dave, what the hell. You alright?"

Wait. No. Stop. He's not cold or annoyed, he's. Confused, and not bothering to hide it.

"Dirk." You don't realize you're saying it aloud until he raises an eyebrow at the relief in your voice. "Uh..."

Ghost-John is gone. Ghost-Bro is standing a fair distance away from Dirk, arms crossed over his wound, studying him. And lil' Dave...well, he's enough to distract you out of finishing your sentence; he's wrapped around Dirk's legs, burying his face in Dirk's worn-out jeans and peeking out at you.

Well, shit. This probably says something about your subconscious, but you're not totally sure what.

"Dave." When you look up at him again—a lot more guiltily than you should—he's holding out one hand. You have no idea why. "You okay, dude?"

"Yeah, of course, sure, I—" can't take your fucking eyes off the kid holding onto Dirk like he's a lifeline— "I'm fine, why—why wouldn't I be okay—"

"I don't know, maybe because you're on the ground? I mean, if I've managed to permanently damage you by running you over, I feel like I should be offering more apologies than I am."

Oh. Yeah. That's what the hand's for.

"Sorry." You reach up, and he pulls you to your feet without even wavering. Damn, either you're lighter than you thought or he's got some serious muscles somewhere in that skinny frame. It's probably good that he's strong, though, because your vision goes weird and wavery for a second, and the only reason you don't go right back down again is that Dirk grabs your shoulder. "...fuck. Sorry."

"Don't be." He's frowning as he steadies you, but it's got a flavour of concern instead of annoyance. "You're not okay, though."

Damn.

"I'm fine, I—where are my shades?" You know precisely where they are. You can see them (and ghost-Bro trying to nudge at them with a foot that just overlaps like a badly exposed photo) out of the corner of your eye. But if you don't let on that you know where they are, if you don't look, maybe Dirk will have to.

"Oh." He does glance down, but his hand doesn't leave your shoulder until he spots the shades and has to step over to snag them. Bro sidesteps right before they would've touched—away from you, thankfully, instead of towards. Even if he's not real you don't want him near you. "...I think they're okay."

"What?" You mentally curse yourself as Dirk looks up from the shades in his hands to you, his face going more confused than ever. "I. I mean. Ah, fuck." The wall is right behind you; you step backwards to lean against it. "How about you just hand them over and I'll fuck off and leave you alone? That work?"

"I'd rather work out what's going on with you and make a decent effort to fix it, actually." He's absently turning your shades over in his hands, watching you.

Lil' Dave hasn't let go of Dirk's legs yet. Ghost-Bro's just now decided to show some interest in the kid, though, adjusting his grip on his sword in a way you're all too familiar with; it has one meaning, and that's your ass getting kicked. Even knowing he's a figment of your imagination you wince and almost reach for your own weapon.

And Dirk catches that. Of course he does. You can't see his eyes go a fraction of a centimeter wider, but you can see the set of his mouth go from worried to wary. Okay, if you're scaring him it's time to clue him in on the state you're in. At least to some extent.

"I'm, uh..." Admittedly, that's easier said than done. Or easier thought than said. Whatever. Closing your eyes makes it easier, because you can't see him and you might not even hear his response over the screaming in your head. "Having some issues. Seeing shit."

"You're what?" His voice cuts through everything, though, and the phantom noise almost shuts up as Dirk's hands come down on your shoulders. He's gentle. You still flinch. "What, did you manage to alchemize LSD or some shit...?"

"No!" That came out a hell of a lot louder than you meant to be, but Dirk doesn't seem surprised. Maybe you just think you're being loud. "No, I swear...just. Stupid. Haven't slept in awhile, that's all."

You risk opening your eyes, and immediately regret it, because just like Dirk's got ahold of you, Bro has the kid. He's bleeding. Of course he is. Bro doesn't seem to give a fuck that you're watching, but lil' Dave sees you. He's fucking crying, mouth moving in what's got to be a plea for help, and you're not going to be able to give it.

"...Dave? Dave." Dirk's tone is patient, and you have a feeling that time just slipped a little for you here. He's been saying your name awhile, hasn't he? And when you manage to focus on him you realize that he's taken his shades off, tucked them into the neckline of his shirt next to yours. "You're going to go to sleep now, alright? I can stick around if the shit you're seeing is that bad—"

"It is." The only reason your voice doesn't crack is because you keep the volume so low. If you look away from Dirk's amber eyes, you're going to see Bro. If you see Bro you're going to have a full-scale meltdown, and Karkat's the only one who's seen that and knows how to handle it. Falling apart for Dirk is unthinkable. "I, it's, I can't—please."

Nice. Coherent. But then again you want to cry for no fucking reason at all. Dirk just shakes his head a little, pulls your arm around his shoulders and wraps one arm around you, and pulls you down the hall. You don't even know which direction he's steering you—your eyes are, again, closed.

Time slips and folds and realigns and at some point you're leaning against him as he gets a door open, and you're sobbing because Bro was there when you couldn't keep your eyes closed, and he's not pushing you off as you do what the figment of your imagination did before and cling to him. He's getting you to lie down on some fancy couch that you're going to get snot and tears all over, and he's gently reminding you which version of your brother he is, and you're not letting go of his shirt.

God, this is going to be embarrassing later.

Right now, though? Right now you cry and you babble at Dirk and he nods and makes noises that you really hope are sympathy and not disgust. What are you even telling him? Your mind's on autopilot and so is your mouth, but you hear shit about how you can't sleep and you don't want to sleep, how dreams about the game and before the game seem more real than anything else sometimes and you don't want to dream, you can't handle waking up next to Karkat and having him ask what makes you whimper and beg and wake up almost screaming. You hear yourself spill your guts and you hear Dirk telling you, calmly and quietly, that he knows, that if you dream he'll wake you up, that it won't get better if you don't sleep.

Dirk talks you down from the wave of unreasoning fear you're riding, and when he pries your fingers off his shirt he wraps his hands around yours. He doesn't stop talking, either. As far as you know he doesn't shut up at all, and his voice is all that you carry down into your dreams.

...for once, they aren't bad. For the first time in a good while the dreams are almost okay. You forget them even as you pass through them, and when you start to come back to consciousness they're just...gone.

Dirk's gone too when you finally wake up, but someone's curled up on the sofa against you, someone reassuringly, comfortingly warm and making soft noises in his sleep. Or maybe not in his sleep, because when you sigh in relief to have him wrapped around you Karkat makes a deeper, intentional noise and moves his arm to lace his fingers through yours.

"So he called you in." You could make it a question. Or be more specific. But nah, you're still too exhausted for that. "You pissed at me?"

"Don't be a dumbass." You swear that he intentionally makes his voice get deeper when he's this close to you, just so you can feel it through contact as much as you can hear it, just because he knows the immediate effect of that on you is to trip every stress switch you have, turn every single one off. Nice. Better than nice. You don't have a word for how nice. "The kind of pissed I am is at the universe for fucking you up to where you do this shit and scare poor defenseless Dirk senseless over whether you're actually losing it."

"Shit. I'm gonna need to apologize to him, huh?"

Karkat's grip on you tightens even though you didn't move to get up. (And you won't, not in the immediate future. He's warm and you're still tired.) "Later."

"Later," you agree firmly. And, because you legit can't remember half of what you probably said, "So how pissed is he?"

You can feel Karkat's exasperated growl as much as you hear it. "I didn't say he was pissed at you!"

"Doesn't answer the question, babe."

"Shut up." When you start to point out that you're not that easily silenced he pulls you half-onto his chest, one hand coming up to start roughly-gently fingercombing your hair, proving that you are, in fact, that easily silenced. "He's not pissed at you...you talked, that's all. Got confused—"

"Confused isn't the word for it."

"—talked about your bro, talked to him like he was your bro—"

"Fuck." Okay, that's actually the worst thing you could've done.

"Shh."

"He knows about Bro, he's gonna think I think he's horrible—"

"I said shush." Karkat's sharp-ish claws dig into your scalp, not deep enough to hurt but definitely enough to make you shiver and distract you out of finishing your sentence. "He knows you don't think he's horrible."

"Let me up so I can text him." That's half a joke. You don't even know if your phone's in your pocket. Karkat whines when you try to wiggle away, though, pulling you all the way on top of him and somehow managing to flip you over so you're lying on your stomach, on his chest. Holy fuck this is perfect. "Hey..."

"Don't 'hey' me." It's funny how easy you can tell a mock-growl from a real one. He growls again when you start laughing—the vibration tickles, it feels awesome—and probably would've started complaining about your inability to be serious for one goddamn minute, except you pull yourself up enough to give him the messiest, worst possible kiss before he can.

He starts laughing after barely three seconds of that, kisses you back through the laughter, and still lets you go when you slide back down to curl up on top of him, hiccuping around the last couple giggles. God, you're stupid, but this time it's good-stupid. Love-stupid instead of just stupid-stupid.

Karkat's still laughing, and purring through it, as he starts running his fingers through your hair again. "Idiot."

"Very idiot. Constantly. That's my only possible state of being—"

"Shush." God, you should not be so easy to shut up, all he's got to do is mess with your hair and pet you like a cat and you're done, it's that simple and he knows it. "You still need to sleep, don't you?"

"Mm." That may just be the most neutral noise you've ever made. You hiccup again. "Do I?"

"You do." Karkat's voice is firm as he drapes the arm that's not attached to the hand tangling in your hair over you. "You definitely do. And you're officially required to come lay down with me at least until I fall asleep every night now, just so you know. That way I can tell just how much sleep you're skipping."

"Like you—" another hiccup; damn— "like you sleep more than I do."

"Damn right I sleep more than you do. At least I try to sleep every night and don't just wander around like a cluckbeast with its head cut off—"

"That's so not how you use that idiom."

"Shush. Shut up. I'll use your idioms any way I fucking please." He huffs, then swallows a chuckle as you hiccup again; you can feel him shake a bit from holding it in, trying to keep up the mask of indignation. "Besides, if you cut something's head off they don't run around. Falls down and bleeds everywhere, maybe. I've seen—"

"Chickens ain't exactly people."

"They have one head, right? Pretty much the same." Karkat shakes his head when you start giggling again at that comment, patting your shoulder gently as the laughter dies down and the hiccups really don't. "Stop that."

You hiccup as he says that, and try very hard not to start laughing again. "That's not how it works—"

He makes a rude noise and then hums for a second, considering. "Okay, John told me about this—"

"Please, spare—" hiccup— "spare me."

"Nope. If you hiccup again I'll kiss you." He grins proudly at you.

"How is that going to work? Now I have a reason to try to hiccup."

"Exactly." That smug smile isn't going anywhere, so you just roll your eyes at him and wiggle into a more comfortable position to wait for another hiccup.

And of course he's right, it doesn't happen. "Fuck."

Karkat looks so fucking proud of himself it's ridiculous. "See? John was right for once—"

"I don't care..." You drag the last word out into a complaining whine. "Rather have kisses and hiccups than none of either."

"Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't kiss you if you didn't hiccup." Karkat's very capable of moving you anywhere he wants to, and he uses that ability now (god damn but you love the fact that your boyfriend could probably throw you through a wall) and pulls you up to kiss you again, maybe a little bit less messy than when you were the one starting it but not for lack of trying by either of you.

He's the one who finally pulls away, shaking his head as you immediately try to get back to his face and holding you off easily. "Dave, c'mon."

"Mm, no. Don't even try appealing to my better nature on this. I don't have one." He's not going to cave easy, though, so you relax and shift to wrap your hands around his wrists, not even trying to pull his hands off your chest. You like them there very much, thanks. "We both know I'm a stubborn lil' bitch who's never gonna stop 'til he gets what he wants—"

"Oh my god, shh." He pulls you down, cradling you against his chest, and maybe that's not a kiss but it's good enough. Better than good enough. "Making out can go on hold until you fucking sleep."

"Hmmm..." Yes, you could argue with him and maybe even win because he doesn't actually want to stop, but on the other hand...he's warm, he's purring, he's back to playing with your hair with one hand...yeah you're done. "I wake up, you're getting kissed whether or not you're up."

His soft laugh is another layer of vibration under you. "Fair enough. Sleep, kisses, food—"

"More kisses."

"Okay, food then more kisses, then you can talk to Dirk if you still want to—"

"Don't want to. Still need to." Apologize to him, really. You already want to start worrying about how the hell you're going to say that, but no. Not just now.

"You do not need to, he understands—you know what, forget it." Karkat huffs, wraps his arms around you tighter, and settles down to just mumbling about how fucking stubborn you are and how you need to listen to what he says and then actually do it. Underneath that, he's purring.

Between the two soothing sounds, you end up asleep faster than you plan to admit.

[hot-mysticc-mess-blog]

rfA and minor trio react to mc being falsely accused of a crime?

Casual disclaimer that I found it not nearly as easy to locate South Korean arrest process and law details as I did American and UK arrest laws (thanks uk.gov) and so, uh, this head canon set is lowkey in a fantasy land where the only thing fantasy about it is the mishmash of arrest laws

My Masterlist

Yoosung

You’re, humiliatingly, with the entire RFA when a police officer arrives, arrest warrant in-hand

Yoosung immediately gets vocal about your innocence

“Causing a scene isn’t going to help her, Yoosung.” Jumin tries to explain. Needless to say, it doesn’t work

Zen has to physically restrain Yoosung just so that he doesn’t get arrested as well

He believed Rika was innocent, and she actually started a cult. No one would ever be able to convince him that you of all people did something bad.

Looking back on his experiences with Rika, he could at least see some of the bad things in his memories, now that he knew what to look for

But you? Not possible.

Is the most obnoxious and insistent that the RFA do something to help

Everyone is in agreement on this, but any effort they make is deemed as not enough by Yoosung

Zen snapped at him on more than one occasion for acting like a brat, but everyone else is, mostly, forgiving because of the circumstances

Showers you in affection constantly once you’re released (thanks to Jumin’s lawyer), and only lets up when your name is cleared

Jumin

He tries to quietly diffuse the situation on site, but it doesn’t work

He is skeptical that you would do a crime at all to begin with, at least not one bad enough to warrant public arrest

So he calls a lawyer immediately, and has Driver Kim take him down to the station

After some evidence gathering, he is able to confirm for sure that you  had not committed the crime

You are out of the police station with all charges dropped in less than an hour

He then sues them for all the trouble they caused

Jaehee

The neighborhood your cafe is in is up-and-coming. The crime rate is a little higher than ideal, and there’s a lot of new building construction and re-modelling going on

You get the occasional cop in the cafe on their break, and you guys are more than happy to serve them.

…until one pulls you aside and arrests you

At first she is horrified that you’re being arrested, watching with wide eyes as you plead your innocence

She convinces you to go quietly out the back, but assures you she will have you out as soon as possible, instructing you not to say anything until you have a lawyer present

Turns out you match the description of a masked robber who hit up a nearby jewelry store…and the same watch Jaehee had given you for your birthday was among the items stolen.

She has to take a minute to compose herself. You two were just building your reputation with the cafe. Would this hurt your business?

She calls Jumin for a lawyer recommendation and advice

Jumin takes over the process entirely, insisting that it was merely his duty to keep the RFA name from being tarnished.

Your name is quickly cleared by Seven and C&R’s resources

When they let you out of the holding cell, Jaehee yanks you into a suffocating hug

The two of you run a couple of drink specials at the cafe, just to be on the safe side with your business

She gets skittish whenever a cop comes into the cafe now, and insists that she serve them instead

Saeyoung

You were late coming home from the store

…so he hacks into the security camera footage to try and check up on you

Most of their store isn’t actually videoed, there are about 10 cameras total in the entire supermarket

He nearly misses you, assuming the camera named room_1 wouldn’t have you in it

But there you are, wide eyed with horror and trying to explain yourself to the manager

They thought you stole something?

He runs back through the footage as quickly as he could, following you back from the entrance to the store

Luckily, the moment some dumb kid got scared and slipped a stolen set of headphones into your purse is on video.

He sends an email to the manager with the video, and then gives you call. You answer with a shaky voice, but he persists despite the pang in his heart.

“Defender of Justice 707 is here MC! He wants you to tell the manager to check his email!”

It took some convincing…and the manager was suspicious about how you had gotten access to the security camera footage

Saeyoung made you put the manager on the phone with him. Whatever he said had you out the door with $10 worth of store credit less than five minutes later

Zen  

You get stopped by police just as you are about to enter the backstage area after one of Zen’s shows

Reporters and cameras are everywhere. What a scoop!

The door had just opened for you, and the extra commotion draws Zen to look out. Your eyes are wide with panic as two uniformed officers escort you away

He parkours over the velvet ropes to get to you, just in time to watch an officer guide you into the back of the police car, hands cuffed behind your back

He wanted to make a big scene…but everything happened so fast, and among a sea of fans and reporters it would have been career suicide.

He watches all the way until you’re out of the sight, when the reporters start getting particularly rowdy. Security guards usher him inside quickly, and he is left pacing frantically in the green room

He went through a bad boy phase and had a couple of close calls, but you? You were perfect, you would never commit a crime so serious you would get arrested

Should he call Jumin? No way in hell is he calling Jumin.

He calls Seven and does an absolutely terrible job of explaining the situation to him. Luckily, Seven is a genius.

“I’ll take care of it,” Seven assures, sounding more sincere than Zen had ever thought possible.  

“Great I’m heading down to the station–”

“You need to stay right there! Jaehee and I would never forgive you if the paparazzi got photos of you outside a police station.”

Zen growls in response, hanging up the phone before falling back onto a nearby couch, torn between wanting to protect you no matter the cost and the reality that Seven was right, he couldn’t be seen down there. It would make everything worse for both of you.

His phone rings with a call from Yoosung not two minutes later. Zen reluctantly takes the call. Yoosung starts talking before Zen can say anything, panting and out of breath as though he’s been running

“I’m on my way to the auditorium! Seven let us know what happened! We’re gonna get MC out of there, so don’t worry.”

Yoosung stays with Zen at the studio, keeping him from rushing off to the police station and ruining his career, just in case.

They do face masks while they wait and neither of them will ever admit to it for completely different reasons

You are released from police custody in the early hours of the morning and walk out to a sedan with heavily tinted windows

The driver rolls down the nearest window so you can see him, letting you know he was sent from C&R to bring you back to your home

As you hesitantly open the backdoor and slide in, a hand reaches out and pulls you close. You recognize the scent of Zen’s cologne.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, Jagiya. We’re going to get this taken care of. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there sooner.”

Saeran

He handles the actual phone call you give him from the holding cell pretty well. He is clearly a little nervous and stressed but he says he’ll figure out a way to help you.

Then he hangs up the phone, and the panicking thoughts at the back of his mind become his only thoughts

Was this Rika’s doing? Was Mint Eye coming back to haunt you after it had already put you through so much?

Or did the police know about your brief and unintentional involvement? Were they out to get you? How dare they arrest you in the first place

Or maybe you had done it? Maybe you lived a secret life he never knew about, the way Rika had, the way his mother, and Saeyoung, and everyone else in his life had

He was sad and he was angry and he was…afraid. So many feelings. All at one time. He couldn’t take it. He didn’t know what to do.

When things used to get like this he would check out. Someone else would take his place. Now he was here feeling everything all at one time again and he would give anything to ‘dissociate’ as his therapist had called it.

He slowly makes his way to the computer room. He’s supposed to knock, but he just opens the door, causing Seven to whirl around with wide eyes, expecting the worst.

“M-MC is in jail.” Damn it, he hadn’t meant to stutter

“She what!?” Seven looks his twin up and down, trying to find some hint of a joke. Instead of humor, he finds his brother on the edge of a breakdown, fingers trembling and unable to make eye contact.

“MC. is. in. jail.” Saeran repeats, voice sharp and harsh, lashing out against the rising anxiety in his chest. “We need to get her out.”

He has no idea how to do that though. After a minute of silence, Saeyoung figures that out too and motions his brother over.

“Grab a chair little bro! Defender of Justice 7-0-7 will fix this in no time!”

Saeyoung shot a quick text to Jumin, jubilantly narrating all of his actions to try and help Saeran calm down. If he was a good enough actor, maybe Saeran would be convinced this was just him being obnoxious rather than an attempt to soothe. You were the only one who got away with outward coddling without one of Saeran’s tongue lashings.

It was not no time, but Saeyoung was able to get the police data from your arrest warrant and track down evidence to prove you had not done it.

Jumin’s lawyer takes care of the rest, and Saeyoung takes Saeran to get you. You have to hug him first, trembling hands grasping at his sweater, but it takes all of a second before he is returning the hug, squeezing you so tight it feels like you can’t breathe

You let him keep going, because you can feel his entire body shaking.

V/Jihyun

When the police come to the door for you, he makes sure to ask for the charges on the arrest warrant

Does his best to keep the situation quiet. The entire apartment complex seeing you get arrested could end up being far worse than actually being arrested.

He calls his own driver the moment you’re gone to take him to the station. Then he calls Jumin on the way.

Jumin has no problem taking care of the legal side of things to make sure you’re able to get out as soon as possible, as well as updating the chatroom on what happened.

Seven is the next call, to make sure none of the remnants of V’s involvement in Mint Eye would be able to come back to bite you.

He waits in the precinct well-into the early hours of the next morning for your release. He goes into the chatroom all of once, interrupting Yoosung in the middle of complaining about V not coming to tell the RFA himself.

I see you’ve all heard about MC by now

Please, do your best for them

I know they appreciate all the support you are giving them

When you get let out, he puts one hand on the small of your back and leads you immediately out of the precinct

He spends the next several days doting over you, and tries to keep you from any of the legal business you do not absolutely have to be involved in.

Vanderwood

Technically, you did commit a crime. It was a minor traffic violation.  Except when you got to the police station, the questions you were asked seemed entirely unrelated.

He answers the phone call after you’ve been arrested, thinking it’s a contact or someone from the agency

“Hello.” Sometimes he could be curt or cold with you, but it was nothing compared to the complete and total apathy, bordering on displeasure that he answered the phone with now.

“V-Vanderwood?” Your voice cracks and tears prick at the corners of your eyes

“MC?” His tone warms up immediately.

Genuinely relieved when he finds out you’ve just been arrested. Given his old life, and his old connections, he’s terrified you’ll end up in the hands of people he used to work for.

He’s too deep in the agency to help you via legal means, but the cops are a lot less dangerous than some of the people he knows

He comes to get you as soon as he can. In the car on the way home, his first attempt at conversation is unusually professional-sounding.

Oh no? Is he angry? Why would he be angry?

“Do you have someone to cover up the evidence? I have a contact who can help if you need it.”

“I…What?”

“…You really didn’t do it?” His eyes flick from the road to you for a moment, wide with surprise.

“When would I have possibly started up a criminal enterprise you didn’t know about!?”

He gives a non-committal grunt

The entire incident seems to disappear entirely once you pay your traffic ticket, though Vanderwood will never tell you if he did something in order to make that happen

[sevensity]

RFA + V + Saeran reacting to an MC who just got stung by a wasp or bee? I recently got stung by a wasp and now my hand is all swollen ^^;;

Oh no! I consider myself lucky because I have yet to bee stung (hahahahah get it) and I hope I never will that shit looks painful T.T Did you clean the wound properly? Apparently honey really helps to soothe stings, but don’t use it if you’re allergic! I hope you get better soon ~

YOOᔕᑌᑎG:

Happened to my bro when he was like 8, we were in my Gradmother’s garden and wanted to catch butterflies, so my bro saw a bumblebee and he was like “it’s fuzzy, colorful, and flies…therefore it’s a butterfly” bless his soul

Summer had arrived, and with it came a clear, breezy day, that weather where the sun warms you up but the wind cools you down at just the right moment

It was a perfect time to go butterfly catching

So collected your net, sunscreen, food, and one (1) Yoosung before precipitating yourself towards a nearby park

Tbh he didn’t really want to participate because he’s scared of hurting the butterflies oh my god hold me back this boy is so precious

But he was fine cheering you on from the sidelines, after all your happiness is his happiness

It wasn’t long before you spotted a Monarch butterfly perched atop a nearby flower bush, and in one fell swoop, you catch it in your net

Yoosung is like woah that’s my girl look at her what a pro

But you hadn’t thought that there might be other small critters lying among the flowers

So as you reached over to close the net, you felt a sharp pain in the meaty part of your palm

Yoosung appeared right beside you before you could even start to cry, pulling an emergency med kid out of his backpack as he took your hand in his and begins to treat your wound

“It’s okay, don’t cry,” he said, kissing your brow.  Although Yoosung was a bit nervous since the love of his life was in pain, his words were so soft and soothing that as they washed over you, the pain gradually faded and you were left with nothing but the warmth of his hand over yours

For the next few days, Yoosung constantly checked up on you, and told you to limit the use of your hand

He applied ointment to prevent any swelling and discomfort, and basically just took such good care of you the wound vanished in a few days

You lowkey wanted to become an animal just so that you could visit Doctor Yoosung and have him treat you

ᘔEᑎ:

It was quite simple really, you were crouched in front of a flower bed, smelling their sweet fragrance, while Zen sat beside you, thinking about how much you looked like a flower fairy

But then a bee sorta plopped onto your thigh, and in your surprise, you tried to brush it off, but the bee ended up stinging you before it fell onto the ground

Your yelp of pain brought Zen back from his reverie, and he cradled you against his chest, asking you why you were suddenly crying

Babe I think something stung me and it really hurts

He went from 1 to 100 real quick, his eyes blazing in fury as he tried to find The Villainous One Who Injured My Princess™

He’s all like @ bee: (ง'̀-‘́)ง come at me u ‘lil bitch

Zen the bee is already quite dead

He whisked you away towards the nearest first aid station, and held onto you the entire time you were getting the sting cleaned up and covered

Insisted that he carry you home, because he seemed to be under the impression that if you walked, your leg might fall off

Once you got home, he placed you on the couch and ordered you to stay put for the rest of the day

But he knelt before you and…

Being the romantic bastard (I use this word in a nice way here don’t hate me) he is, Zen lifted your leg up to his lips and kissed the bandage

“From now on, I will not lose to anything.  No human, nor bug, nor any other formidable foe will ever hurt you again, be they large or small.”

I mean as sweet as that sounds, just imagine Zen hovering around you with an aerosol can in his hand whenever you go outside, constantly spraying bug repellent everywhere so it just sorta hangs around you like a cloud

Are you trying to poison me Zen do you really wanna pull some Romeo and Juliet shit Zen are you really that dramatic Zen

ᒍᗩEᕼEE:

At first, the both of you thought that adding tables outside the cafe for customers to use was a good idea

But neither of you thought of the horrible things leftover sweets attracted

One day, while you were clearing up a table littered with half-eaten cake on a side not who dares not finish their cake why would you even consider such a thing???, you picked up a plate an immediately dropped it after feeling something stabbing your finger

The plate shattered against the ground, and you felt your heart beating in your index finger

Jaehee never heard you cuss so loud

She rushed outside to see what all the commotion was about, and saw you clutching your hand, face red and eyes watering

Now Jaehee is smart, with just a single look, she can tell exactly what’s wrong

Baehee ushered you inside, telling you not to worry about the plate, not to worry about your finger, not to worry about anything because she is there and will take care of you

She apologized to the customers, saying that she had something important to take care of, and wouldn’t be available for a few minutes

In a flash, she had everything laid out and ready to use, carefully pulling out the wasp’s stinger, wrapping a hand towel around your finger before giving you ice

You felt bad for disrupting both of your work, but she again told you to stop fretting

She made you stay behind for half an hour, until the ice was almost completely gone, before allowing you to come back again

Though she insisted that you only use one had , and limit yourself to the smaller tasks

When you both went home that day, Jaehee settled you on her couch and declared that she was going to feed you herself

But Jaehee I have two hands you know

She wouldn’t hear any of it though

“Fine, then how about you use your other hand to feed me in turn?”

It turned into a fluff fest and ended with both of you giggling hard, chocolate pudding smeared across both of your faces, cheeks flushed, that day’s incident long forgotten 

Mmh and then Jaehee offered to “clean up” the pudding on your face, and so another sort of fest begun

ᒍᑌᗰIᑎ:

I’m like 700% sure that he’s already safe-proofed his entire penthouse

There are no bugs, no critters to be seen anywhere, even out in the garden, the only insects you see are the harmless ones

I guess with money, anything really is possible

EXCEPT, bees

Jumin was aware how important bees were for the environments as well as his garden, so he allowed the existence of bees to continue in his otherwise no-bug haven

But this led him to the fake belief that bees were completly harmless creatures

I mean for the most part they are but accidents still occur

And an accident was exactly what happened when you wandered too close to a bee hive

Luckily, you managed to escape with only one sting (actually I heard that even if you aren’t allergic at first, if you’re stung multiple times you can develop an allergy and die???) but it still caused enough pain to make you tear up

Jumin Mental Equation: You+Crying+Swollen Arm= MC has a fatal illness

Rushed you to the hospital despite your complains

Jumin I need tweezers and an ice pack, not an X-Ray and an IV

Did feel a bit embarrassed when the doctor told  him it’s just a bee sting

He had his arm around you the entire day after that, except when you fell asleep in the afternoon

When you woke up, Jumin was nowhere to be seen

The guards said he was in the garden

As you approached that place, you heard his voice talking to someone

You peaked around the corner and

Ju MIN??!

This dude was wearing a beekeeper outfit, in a cutesy kitten pattern to boot

But what shocked you the most was that he was trying to have a discussion with the bee hive

Or maybe, telling the bees off for hurting you was more accurate

Which did nothing but aggravate said bees, who were now swarming around him in a rather angry manner

Jumin you’re an absolute dork but that’s part of the reason why I adore you so much

ᐯ:

Really though, unless he’s there with you when it happens, the blind man will not notice your injuries, even if you happened to get your head chopped off

That’s really sad actually

When you were out in the garden tending he flowers and got stung by a wasp, it hurt, but you were adamant about not letting V find out

Imagine how he would feel if you got hurt but he wasn’t there beside you?

So you were biting your lip, fighting back tears as you rushed to treat yourself, when V came in

“Sweetheart? What are you doing?” he asked after hearing you rummaging around in the cabinets for tweezers.

“Ah, um, nothing!”

He reached out for you, and instinctively you did the same

V’s fingers brushed against your swelling forearm, and felt you flinch away

He froze

“”Did you…did you injure yourself?”

“It’s…it’s nothing major, just a wasp sting.”

“Oh my God, MC I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize before, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice your pain.”

The poor boy looked like he was about to cry, and clutched at his fkn gorgeous hair in distress

See this is exactly what I mean the poor man blames himself too much

You assured him that it was all okay, that you knew how to take care of your own wounds, and that if he wanted to make you feel better, he could stay near you

But after that incident, V suddenly decided to get the surgery

“What happens if something like this happens again,” he said, “I want to be able to prevent you from getting hurt again.”

ᔕᗩEYOᑌᑎG:

This happened to my friend in the same situation (except it was in a towel fort me and my friends had made),  we all found it so hilarious that even though she was crying from the pain, she still laughed along with us. What a touching story excuse me while I wipe away my tears

You managed to convince him to go to a public pool with you

Now this place had a really big grassy area with lots of shade, so you decide to sit down

But unluckily for you, you only wore your bathing suit and had your towel wrapped around your shoulders

And even more unluckily for you, there was a bumblebee bumbling around in your choice area to sit

Naturally, the little fuzzy fella was squashed to death, but not before his stinger was neatly lodged in your butt cheek

SEVEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKING OWWWW!!!!!!

The Defender of Justice Magically Appears!! He just kind of blinked at you while you were feeling up your butt tho

“Do you need some help with that, miss?”

Immediately became concerned when he saw you crying though, and pulled you into a tight embrace

“Honey what’s wrong?”

“S-Seven…I think I sat on a bumblebee.”

You felt him tense up

Then you felt him start to quiver

Bastard you better not be doing what I think you’re doing

Sure enough, Seven was trying to suppress his laughter, but when you pouted at him, he just couldn’t hold it in anymore

“Ahahaha! You sat on a bumblebee! I wonder what the view was like from down there…what did it see in it’s last moments? I bet it was a glorious sight to behold.”

You cheeky bastard pun 117% intended

Rest assured though, he gave you the best first aid care, especially given the location of your wound

After all was said done, Seven sighed wistfully and said, “But in all honesty, letting a bumblebee go somewhere so private…are you sure you weren’t having an affair?” also reference 249% intended

“No?”

“Good,” he says, leaning closer to your ear. “You better not bee.”

That night y’all watched The Bee Movie and he frequently whispered “That could be us but you playin’.”

What exactly he was insinuating, you did not know.

ᔕᗩEᖇᗩᑎ:

You went out to his favorite ice cream stall on a sweltering summer day

He went back for seconds while you waited at a nearby bench

Your hair fell over your shoulder as you leaned forward towards your half-eaten cone, so you lifted a hand to brush the locks back and –

OUCH!

You hadn’t noticed, but a sneaky wasp had flown into your hair, and you’d accidentally squished it a bit between your hair and collarbone

Real talk: when you get any sort of injury directly over bone, it fucking hurts

So when Saeran came back to see you crying, he was floored

Did I make her wait too long? Did someone hurt her? Did- wait what the hell is that?

He took one look at the swelling on your collarbone and decided that someone had tried to kill you

Ah Saeran, I’ve met a lot of people before who jump to the most unlikely conclusions possible but you reaaally take the cake

Though your tears weren’t something he wanted to see, so anxiously he patted your head and asked what happened

You explained to him, that you think you were stung by a wasp

Like Zen, Saeran looked around, trying to find someone to fight

Saeran who gives a damn about the wasp this sting hurts like a bitch

Tol bean wasn’t sure what to do though. There wasn’t no one to beat up, he he didn’t know how to take care of a wasp sting, and your crying was just making him want to cry

So Saeran, in a flurry, grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him

“It’s okay,” he said, “I know someone who can help. Just hang in there, okay?”

Saeran pls stop talking like I’m mortally wounded

With that he took off at break-neck speed in the direction of who knows where, pulling you along in his wake but shit this guy can go

Yeah, you still felt the throbbing pain beneath your neck, but Saeran ran so fast your were practically flying through the air behind him

A few minutes later, you found yourself at Yoosung’s doorstep, Saeran spamming the doorbell until a disheveled looking ray of sunshine boy opened the door

Without much grace due to his sheer panic, Saeran shoved you in front of him and yelled, “Please, help me! I don’t know what to do!”

When things calmed down a bit and the circumstances explained, Yoosung showed Saeran how to clean a sting wound, how to properly remove a leftover stinger as well as remedies to soothe the affected area

Yoosung teaching Saeran new thing, and Saeran absorbing it all with shining eyes was a really effective painkiller

Lol it was almost worth getting stung just to witness this moment 

[lolbtsaus]

High School!Yoongi

And now it is time for the first half of the Daegu line, my lowkey spirit animal, a total cutie who actually looked really cute in his lil wig he had in the whole BTS high school thing like I’m surprised I would’ve never thought it would look that good but it shouldn’t surprise me, he pulls everything off damN IT, Min Yoongi aka Suga aka Agust D (also I just wanna add in a quick message to everyone to stay safe, I know there was just a shooting in Quebec and it breaks my heart to hear things like that are happening so I hope everyone is doing okay and that everyone stays safe)

This will be an extension of the teenager series (for the teen!Yoongi post, click here) the original post focused on the relationship, like the first meeting, the confession all of that fluffy stuff so this post is gonna be filling the gap in and saying what I think he’d be like as a high school student 

The teenager post featured American!Yoongi (here) to sum it up, he's a big city kid (most likely somewhere in New York) he was born in Daegu but moves to New York around 7 or 8 so Korean is his first language and then with your help, he becomes fluent in English but he’s also got the tiniest lil hint of an accent and it’s so cuTe

Onto the visuals for this bc I love fetus BTS so much

Okay so fetus yoon hasn’t fully grown into his features yet so his cheeks are a bit chubbier and oh my god they look so cute and squishy I love me some chubby cheeks like when bbys have the really squishy cheeks yeS  PLZ

I lo v e fetus!Yoongi so much I’m looking through pictures rn and oh my lord he was such a cutie he still is but now he’s in his evolved form, a cutie pie 

Onto hair, idk why but I get this image in my head of Yoongi hearing how dyed hair isn’t allowed so he comes back the next day with vivid orange hair

But if I were to stay true to normal!Yoon, he had black hair in all of his fetus photos so either way he’s looking niCe, he only dyes his hair for a few weeks until they give in and let him have dyed hair then he’s rushing to go back to black

Onto fashion, Yoongi’s fashion is actually one of my favorites

It’s pretty much all about comfort but bc he’s Min Yoongi he can make a baggy t-shirt and some jeans look cute as fuck

He wears a lot of looser things, lots of coats, lots of beanies and hats, lots of jeans he’s definitely a jeans person and of course when the weather gets colder we get the beauty that is yoon in a scarf I love seeing yoon look all smol bc he’s pretty much swimming in his scarf bc he gets these huge ass scarves and he’s so content all nuzzled up in it it’s so precious also side note Yoongi in flannel fuck me u p

HS!Yoon wouldn’t be any different, he goes for a lot baggy shirts and jeans and maybe a snapback or a beanie but that’s about as far as he goes

His outfits are still put together but he also goes for a lot of blacks and grays and whites so it could be that but sometimes he’ll add in a lil bit of color like he had this one outfit that was all black, black t-shirt black hat black bag and then he had this bby blue jacket with black details and it was just one of those “ight I see you” moments bc he knew what he was doing

Okay so I think that Yoongi is actually really smart in general (obviously music is his forte) so I don’t think his grades would be horrible, he may get a few Bs here and there but that’s only when he gets really busy with his music

But at the same time, Yoongi during finals is stressed out as shit and goes into full on study mode and lives off of coffee, gets to a point where he gets up, says he’s gonna drop out and walks out of the library but then comes back ten minutes later with a blanket around his shoulders, a kumamon plushie hugged to his chest and a box of donuts in his hands, tries to ask the librarian to move into the library temporarily

But he’s also that person that sits there after finals are over with and is like “why were you so stressed out lol it’s just a test chill”

I’ve said this a few times but Yoongi, to me, is a bit more of a loner, he’s not mean to people but he’s also not gonna jump through hoops to become friends with everyone he talks to  

He’s more of a quality over quantity type of person, he’d rather have one really good best friend than twenty not so amazing friends so he really only regularly hangs out with a handful of people

It’s you, the boys and this one other person from music club bc next head canon is that Yoongi is in the music club

Music and Yoongi will always go together for me, it’s hard to think of Yoongi without thinking of music as well bc he just lov es music so much it’s his passion in life and it makes him so happy

Clubs aren’t really his thing but it’s good to have something for when he applies for colleges and if he’s gonna join any club, it might as well be music

Onto sports, Yoongi has a well known love for basketball so he would be on the basketball team

You would come to every game, every practice (if you could) just to support your bf bc that’s your man and you’re proud of him and he’s highkey loving the attention

We all saw how flustered and shy Yoongi got when Jimin started screaming the names of the players on yoon’s team like he literally just hung his head and giggled that’s pretty every game tbh bc Jimin is also at all the games to support his bro

“MIN YOONGI”

“Jimin the game ended twenty minutes ago”

“MIN SUGA”

The two of you team up and make lil posters for Yoongi and it actually makes him really happy when he sees it and he gets that precious gummy smile on his face and after the game is over, he gives you this huge hug and he’s all soft for the rest of the night

Prom with Yoongi is really sweet and romantic and he’s a nervous bub the entire time he’s getting ready like how the fucK does a tie work what’s a bowtie is there a difference what’s a skinny tie does he want a skinny tie is that what people wear to prom

But then when he sees you, he gets that smile again and he gets a bit shy bc whoA that’s my babe but he doesn’t stop smiling the entire time and he even gets convinced to take a few cheesy before prom photos and even some actual prom photos 

Okay so Yoongi can get pretty hyped up when he wants to like we all remember the Baepsae dance practice where Yoongi is pretty much twerking and losing his shit that’s him at prom tbh he can be s o fucking extra sometimes it’s so funny to me 

The entire night, he has three modes, he’s either being his extra self or he’s judging the rest of the boys bc one of them is on a table, someone’s lost his tie, two of them have taken over the music and Yoongi’s trying to decide whether he should pretend he doesn’t know them, laugh or join in

But then the third mode is his sweet side where, towards the end of the night, he takes you onto the roof of the school and he has it all set up with rose petals and fairy lights and his own playlist to play so you two can slow dance in private bc Yoongi is a private guy when it comes to affection so he figures this way, he can make you feel special while keeping it between you two

You get to just rest your head on his shoulder and dance with him and if you focus on it, you can hear his heartbeat and both of you have this soft smiles on your face and it’s just really sweet and cute 

High school!yoon is just a music loving sweetheart who’s doing his best to pass his tests, writes essays the day they’re due and is super in love

[travellers-survivor-old-west]

Episode 7: “The coin flip gods decided Xander would be leaving us tonight”- Chloe

Everyone drop your..................... spare change we have a decision to make - Someone on the losing tribe, probably.

jeezzzzzz this round is fucking frustrating. so last minute last round my alliance flipped to keaton which was WONDERFUL!!! I was having a hard time talking to him and I'm glad it's Vi and Xander still here. the concering thing tho is someone told vi to do keaton so like.....someone tryna scoop up that good good number huh? this auction though....FUCK THIS. so it started off fine. nobody snatched the first thing bc it was useless. but then the second item hehe I grabbed it bc I wanted to throw to keep ashley safe + wanted to know what it was. so i was like ok cool love it. but then for some reason another item got posted after the time the post said the challenge would be running.....which was not fair flkjfl and i didnt see it cause i was like cool i can sleep now :) and then it's the fuckin most powerful thing in the game :)))) love that for me lol. and someone on that tribe fucked it up. i literally would've fuckin spent all the money for it if I'd known the auction was gonna go past the time the hosts said rip so that threw a wrench in everything and now i am a sad sad cowboy :'( next day i snatched the first item to end the auction so that the power hungry snakes in my alliance didnt get all the good stuff. so even tho i got nothing of value, i DID get assurance that only one thing is out there that I need to be worried about. :))) hehe :))) and it was REALLY EASY to play off like xander took them both tbh. he was typing in the chat the whole time lmao. the only problem is that chloe eve and isaac are actually smart and they might know it was me but like i rlly put in that fake nancy drew work and was like HELLO DID U BUY THOSE THINGS ? I even asked xander if he got either of the items hehe. im just sittin here with my two lame-ass packages <333333 but i have a really bad feeling about the other tribe. Ashley was on a work trip all week and I know her and her fuckery and her inability to talk to boring men and her tribe has way way too many of them. jared/sammy have the power on that tribe if they scoop dylan and goat nick or bro down with aidan. so it's bad news I think. I'm gonna be pissed at them if they get her out (and i swear to god if jared is doing it just to break up me and her so I'm closer to him he has another thing coming!!!!!!!!! :) ) i wanted to be loyal to jared and ashley, but if he gets her out before I even have a chance to play with her, im gonna be fuckin bitter!!!!!!!! and who knows what I'll do then :)

Well rip us again. I’m slightly screwed? Maybe. I did get 2nd highest score so hopefully the others keep that in consideration considering Owen, Xander and eve got lower than 50 points. I’m pissed Bc Chloe and I both tried hard to carry the team. We were 200 points under. That’s more than either one of us got. Every one else didnt do an entire section. One of them only did a couple pictures, another only did a couple videos. Rip I want to die.

BIIIIITCH. Shit has hit the fan and I finally feel like we're playing a game here. Last tribal was intense but it brought back that feeling as to why I play these things so I was kind of into it. Overall the scrambling in the last few hours showed a lot of people's hand and I think that was one valuable thing that came out of the last vote out (in addition to Sammy's vote out). Apparently the alleged vote was Ashley, which Jared told me rather late, and I didn't feel clued in on that AND I was a fan of Ashley. She was one of the only people here from my second tribe and she talked to me more than a majority of the tribe making me realize that the Malakoff OGs might have formed a voting block - Pat might possibly be involved. Apparently it was a push on behalf of Pat but I did use my vote steal and try to push things in order to save Ashley and push it onto another target. She really wanted Jared but I do feel like I have a stronger relationship with him and the ability to reconcile things further which is why I tried to deviate the target to Sammy. Plus in all of the ambiguity and the fact that my name was going around (as Ashley as a decoy to save herself *insert eye roll*) I felt the need to use the vote steal I secured on the rails. Regardless of how things played out at the end of the day I had no idea what the chaotic twink [Dylan] was going to do and in the event of a 3-3-1 tie I doubt Jared was saving me over Sammy. Weren't they butt buddies in a Tumblr Survivor or something? Like it just wasn't realistic... and I don't feel like I leveraged it poorly at all. Better than going home with something in my pocket like last time. Plus the studio art major's reaction in their exit interview only helped prove my point that they were the best person to go. Plus I felt as if the studio art major in question has the type of fun but lowkey personality that allows people to go deep and as such an extroverted loud ass bitch those players tend to be the ones on my radar. We worked hard, we persevered and won immunity. Pat worked his ass off in the fucking challenge because he knew he made a fucking mistake writing my name down but he's trying to be cordial. Honestly I think a lot of people are biding their time until merge and I have a sneaking suspicion I might be a person of interest when this merge comes. WHY? Well that challenge was CLEARLY thrown and the people who seemed to be left out of the loop were the ones from my original tribe. I'm pretty sure that's a fucking act of war in Ancient Greece. Nick (my number one ally atm I love you Nick) pointed that shit out immediately and made me run to check the results which left me shook. I tried to bring it up to Jared who played it off... another kind of red flag. My priority right now is to strengthen relationships heading into a potential merge and making sure they're on good footing with me even though the last thing that's happening is a loyal Malakoff 3.0. I'm not even going to delude myself with the fucking thought. Despite having Nick and I guess Ashley, I do feel very alone in this game. Most games I succeed in I have a partner in crime so I'm going to adapt and see how I can take on the merge. I really want Nick to know I trust him as much as I do and I hope that whoever survives of Chloe and Vi is excited to see us. That's if the merge is next and you're not playing with us... But I also hope that both Chloe and Vi survive this round but the break up of the challenge doesn't look good. Is there a chance they just fucking suck?

Being back at tribal is fucking hell. At this point just give us merge I stg id be more likely to be immune then. Honestly it feels like most of my tribe put ZERO FUCKING EFFORT into this challenge and I’m beyond angry about it they’re all fucking bastards and I’ll vote every single one of them out for doing this to me.

Thoughts on being at tribal - the coin flippers are staying strong and yet again we flipped a coin to see who goes home between Vi and Xander. This time there’s no Keaton to fuck things around so I’m hoping it stays this straight forward and there’s no genuine last minute scrambles. I don’t think anyone from the group has told Vi or Xander yet who the vote is but the coin flip gods decided Xander would be leaving us tonight. I just wanna fucking sleep. So yea no valid reason for voting Xander tonight other than it was down to a coin flip. Either way I’d be voting Xander and Vi out at merge anyway.

M E R G E U S 

I’m stupid and forgot to do this so I’m doing it from the bathroom at work pls don’t strike me I’ll give you detail when I get off sjhdjddh

Spoiler Alert: He never did send us details when he got off work.....

Hey, this tribe fucking sucks. they never talk about anything or want to do much. Like i had to beg people to do the call. and force that to happen. and I had to force a vote talk out of people.... Thats not my style of gameplay. I hate that im forced to do that. and just want out of this tribe ASAP. IM just hoping if i do survive and make it to merge. that my clever "talking" skills have earned me some credit in this tribe. where I have some allies. I do want to make it far and not just flop in this game. Especially when no one really knows me here and they can't target me because im in a duo with someone on the cast. @every other game i play. *glares at jess* 

Also Xander...

Part 2 electric boogaloo I really just want Alyssa to expose me. Like is that so hard. Also i forgot to mention in my last confessional that Jess had a booty call and they left their top there. 

IS IT MY TIME TO GO??????

Last round was pretty wild. I really did NOT want Sammy to go but unfortunately my hands were tied and he was with jared and pat. I kind of pushed for jared last round a little too much and Aidans ass told jared and he confronted me about it. I think i did a pretty good job at explaining why and basically it was like we both kind of went for eachother last round but now no one will think we are working together. My hope is that aidan and nick will be loyal and continue to work with me but i have a feeling jared is stilll trying to work on aidan and aidans ass is falling for it. Merge is probably coming up and im a little scared about that but if nick and aidan dont flop I think we can make it far.

So last round I played like peepee poopoo I should've just listened to Sammy like I told myself I would at the beginning of the round and voted Aidan... but the second I detect any shadiness even in a F2 or F3 person that's when the meltdown comes... it was like the Bryce situation all over again Not to mention Aidan two-timed me! But luckily it is still early enough in the game to recover from this, and I still have the high noon... I just need to hang onto that no matter what. So this round I centered back in on my round one gameplan, Aidan lost my trust and Dylan earned his 3rd strike with me by not having my back in the tribe chat. I've been bonding with NickG, and I made a deal with Ashley so I'm hoping that new doors will open for me on this tribe. With that being said, we won the challenge and honestly I couldn't care less about a merge any more, the farther away it is the better to be honest- I can have a 50/50 shot at making it one round further every time with tribal immunity. Another note, non-zero odds that Owen threw the challenge for me? We'll see.

Idk what day exactly the video title is specific of when I’m speaking from.

More Pat....