#in the camps bc they keep having to move around and the conditions are really not good

[apricotluvr]

Feb 2023 🫶🏼

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

A bit of a loaded question, I know, but do you have any TF ships you prefer and would like to share?

I need you to be aware that you're opening pandora's box here. The vibes range anywhere from "god this is hot" to "god this is cute" to "their dynamic is so fucking interesting and i want to study them under laboratory conditions" to "this hurts so much and I need the drama, I am CRYING" to smashing barbie dolls together. I have crackships you ain't even THOUGHT about. I throw ships at the wall just to see if they stick. I like a lot of ships. Arguably too damn many. So many that I'm putting this under a cut to spare people from the long post. So many that I have to sort them by continuity so you're not staring at an unorganized list longer than do you love the color of the sky.

TFA

shockbee I feel has a lot of the potential for shockwave fearing what happens when bee finds out he's not longarm. Like a lot of the scenes in auto boot camp read to me like shockwave really did want bee as an ally while he climbs the ranks, and there's some juicy potential for shocker starting out as just using him until he actually catches feelings. Especially in aus where bee really did join the elite guard. Like can you imagine the drama. The heartbreak. The trust issues. Bee realizing he never really knew the guy he could trust most. Wondering if he's even safe to be around. If anything was even real. Shockwave wondering the same things. Hhhhhhhhh.

I do enjoy shockblurr conceptually but I'm not crazy about how they're usually portrayed in the fandom bc I feel like we're all forgetting that shockwave is a ball of anxiety and murder, and Blurr is a straight laced fuckin nerd who can't shut his mouth. An overpowered, highly capable nerd, but a nerd still. I like what the artist katzske does with them a lot tho.

I'm also a blitzbee enjoyer but on a less "bee can fix him and itll be so sweet" level and more "god imagine how annoying they'd be together." Looney Tunes levels of fucking with people. Either that or bumblebee is just horny on main and really likes the thought of bagging a con, but then he goes and catches feelings.

prowlbulk owns my entire heart. They're so sweet on each other and prowl really respects and appreciates bulkhead way more than bulky's used to. And bulkhead admires so much of prowl's skill and perspective. They work so well together as a couple and it's fucking adorable. With a hint of tragedy bc. Well. You know.

Bulkbee is also incredibly cute bc I'm a sucker for besties that very slowly realize they love each other so much it makes them look stupid. Good in romantic or qpr flavors. Bee already climbs all over bulkhead like a squirrel, they're so fuckin affectionate and very very stupid in social settings.

I like Optimus and blackarachnia from a drama standpoint bc God. They are tragic. They are MESSY. I genuinely think there's no happy ending for them. The trust is gone. But they still miss each other so much and they just CANT move on, so they keep stringing each other along. They're just hurting themselves and each other every time one does anything nice for the other. It's the kinda shit that just slowly rips your heart out. OP please don't text your ex. OP pLEASE

Megop is a classic but I feel we as a fandom underutilize how much Optimus pisses off Megatron. He is an asshole cat knocking shit off the counter for attention. Megs lets him be worse when he is so so fucking tired of being good. He loves that he hates him and he hates that he loves him. Full on "my esteemed rival" "dearly detested." Fighting each other is cathartic and addictive. Megatron finds it infuriating but he can't deny how much he likes having a worthy opponent, how fitting it is that the cosmos sent him so deadly a nemesis, and yet how lame it is that he was so forgettable at first so now he feels dumb being mildly obsessed with him. Optimus is just glad he has someone who doesn't expect him to be perfect and nice and upstanding. He can vent out a lot of his less noble feelings or impulses that he's had completely repressed for ages. The pressure's off in a lot of ways. And I think in an enemies to lovers sense, watching them figure out how to make that setup and that very odd mutual desire to be in each other's lives into something healthier could be really compelling. Or tragic in a "why did I let myself need you? Why the fuck did I let myself need you?" way.

Beeprowl is funny but I only really like it in a "you annoy me SO MUCH let's make out about it" way. Nothing committed, just dispelling the tension without having to kill each other. It is just kinda nice seeing them have genuinely sweet moments though. Squidbob ass relationship.

Lugnut and Strika are the perfect Decepticon power couple and I love them so much. So very much. Lugnut loves his big terrifying wife capable of leveling cities, and she loves her sweet devoted husband who could throw her across the room. I think they break chairs over each other's heads for fun and have been trying to seduce Megatron into a threesome for ages.

Shockwave and Megatron are also incredibly good. The loyalty. The "I commit my whole existence to you. I am yours, in mind body and soul. I will go wherever you need me to, I will put myself in immeasurable danger for you, just please say I'm doing a good job" and "all my efforts would be lost without you. In a world where I have been vulnerable and terrified, where I have been stabbed in the back by people I thought I could wholly trust, I can look at you and know, unwaveringly, you won't do the same. I trust you completely." It's Delicious. It's absolutely codependent but god it's tasty.

Also honestly? Bulkhead and the constructicons could make a pretty cute throuple. He wants them to be better. They want him to be worse. He just wants them to do honest work and they want him to stop letting stuffy, elitist autobot society control him so much. They love each other, they're friends (even if the constructicons don't totally remember the first night they met him). And they really do enjoy each other's company. They're just guys being dudes. Just dudes being guys. Just guys being gays. (It's also just nice when bulkhead gets to be the smaller one, scrapper totally carries him around like a big ol' cat).

I really like prowl being torn between lockdown and jazz. They're the devil and angel on his shoulders. Lockdown tempting him into relapsing, feeling himself fall into old habits, forsaking everything he's learned about patience and respect and being conscientious of the world around him. Jazz picking him back up when he slips, making him WANT to keep being better. And prowl can't decide if he wants to be loved in spite of all his toxic traits or BECAUSE of them. It's got me in a chokehold, your honor.

Megastar is fun in tfa because 1. It's implied Megatron never actually abused starscream while they were on the same side (the first thing starscream says after waking up from being shot is "YOU DARE STRIKE ME, MEGATRON?" which reads to me like this is a new development). Megs doesn't actually hurt anyone working for him other than Sumdac, who he fucking hates (at least not on-screen), and the only reason he was as aggro to starscream post-revival was because he knew screamer is the reason he spent all that fucking time as just a severed head. He used to actually trust him, sort of, even if he was a scheming, sycophantic little weasel. And 2. It's pretty obvious they have history together. I genuinely truly believe they were exes and Starscream only planted a bomb on him because he couldn't be fucking normal about the divorce. You look at how they bitch at each other in deep space and then immediately fall into what is most likely their old dynamic of getting things done and shooting the shit and tell me they never had an intense romantic stint that went horribly wrong. Starscream calls him Meggy in his internal logs for fucks sake.

Oh also sumdac x megatron. It started as a crackship of mine but I really love the idea of sumdac feeling legitimately guilty for taking Megatron apart and unknowingly violating him the way he did, even if Megatron is terrible. Like the dynamic of "you lied to me" "if I told you who I really was, I would be dead. I don't owe you the truth when you held me captive. I was vulnerable. I was TERRIFIED. I did what I had to in order to keep myself safe. And you come to ME with accusations of doing you wrong? When YOU held all the power? And then when I'd taken back the power you left me without, made you feel what I felt, I'm a monster?" "I never meant to hurt you" "Well you did. And now you know just how much damage you did." Like it's such an interesting angle, ESPECIALLY when you consider that sumdac probably grew to legitimately care about Megatron while he was in his lab. He wanted to do right by him. He wanted to see him restored and thriving. He was his robot buddy that made a birthday gift for his kid once. Some part of him probably misses him after he's gone, some part of him probably feels guilty too, even through all the rage and hurt and fear and betrayal. That's complicated feelings!! That's juicy!!!!!

I like the thought of Shockwave and Optimus but that's mostly for sexy reasons. Something about a big, smooth talking, scary cryptid monster, very well spoken and elegant, seducing Good, Upstanding Autobot Optimus to The Dark Side. This is mostly because Optimus is a huge nerd and so is Shockwave. I think Shockwave could potentially pique his interest with uncensored versions of the history Optimus is already a huge dweeb about, and seal the deal with a few gentle touches and honeyed words. From Optimus's perspective this is Very Obviously a Honeypot Trap but the trouble is Shockwave is very hot and very sweet on him and starting to seem less and less evil so he's not sure how long he can keep his guard up when the temptation is this strong. He has a duty to fight Decepticons and shut out their lies but man. He's so tired. And Shockwave's berth is very warm. There is something satisfying about seeing him choose to be selfish after nearly a whole show of him taking the high road. (It's even better if he gets attached when eventually Shockwave's Cool Sexy Collected vibes falter and he sees how much of an anxious, panicky dork he actually is)

Ratchet x Arcee are also very very cute together. Old married dorks. Ratchet's so soft with her and he wants her to be okay. She genuinely likes him and he makes the nightmare she's subjected herself to bearable. "Don't call me sir, I work for a living!" They're both horrifically traumatized, they understand each other on a level most bots can't, and they can ground each other when it gets bad. God. You know they're slow dancing in the kitchen together. You know they're sickeningly domestic with each other. They are holding hands in the park on a comically small bench on earth right as we SPEAK.

I also just kind of like the idea of team prime being a polycule (other than ratchet, who is just watching the young bots having relationship drama and rolling his optics (the age gap and mentor role make me personally a little uncomfortable but I have nothing against people who do include him, they're all adults, its chill)). I like the thought of these losers getting home after a long day and collapsing into a cuddle pile, either on the couch or on the floor. They all love each other so much already, I think they should kiss about it, but they're super repressed so it's So Very Shy and Cautious and Sweet.

The same goes for the Decepticons but more in a "cons are pretty casual about sex anyway, they're in close proximity, and they tolerate each other at least so nearly everyone has a fuck buds setup with each other" way. I feel like the autobots are super repressed in that regard so the cons started leaning into being sluts to stick it to the mech along with all the other freaks shit they're cool with. God help Blackarachnia, she goes from Autobot repression to all her coworkers being sluts on main and she Does Not Know what to do about that (also it would make a lot of sense if that's why she started leaning into the femme fatale thing so hard)

TFP

Optiratch my beloved. Gay old men who would do anything for each other, even when they really don't agree on how to proceed. They're best friends, they're husbands, they're crushing on each other and they think it's unrequited, they just started dating, they've been married for eons. All of it works soooo well. They know each other well enough that they can communicate by just kinda grunting in specific ways. I need them to hold hands SO bad.

Megop is also Very Good here. Literally the most divorced robots to ever exist. Megatron NEEDS Optimus back and Optimus still holds a torch for megs, but it's so fucking funny because they're clearly on fundamentally different levels of "I miss you." Like Optimus is kinda sad and he does want the old Megatronus back, but Megatron does these whole fuckin elaborate stunts to get Optimus to pay attention to him again and then locks himself in his room with a pint of ice cream and dark energon to cry about him. Mans is NOT coping. Alternatively, Optimus is coping just as poorly on the inside and he really does still love Megatron just as much but he knows that's a selfish desire that he quiets with everything else he sacrifices about himself in the name of being a good leader. Least repressed Optimus.

Bulkhead and wheeljack should get to kiss on the mouth I think. If Arcee can call Wheeljack Bulkhead's boyfriend, and bulkhead does not deny it, logic dictates they should in fact French kiss sloppy style for a whole minute on live TV. It can happen. Only on the hub.

KOBD are adorable together, they are so unhinged and stupid and they love each other so much. Like the team rocket of the nemesis. Breakdown loves his husband soooo much and knockout misses him so bad when Silas gets him. And you KNOW they're freaks bc knockout is totally convinced that breakdown would've loved seeing how he torments Silas in bd's body. He's probably right about it too.

I also wholly support Ms. June Darby for trying to seduce Optimus. Me too girl, get that robo ass. Go get jack a new cooler dad. It's also very cute to imagine Optimus, the bigass 30 foot robot, the stoic leader of the Autobots who keeps stonefaced through just about anything, flustered and crushing on a very small and very flirty human.

For some reason the show was kind of trying to tease Bulkhead x Arcee for exactly one episode and then never again and like. Look. I understand it was a forced het ship that was there to distract people from how gay they accidentally made the show. I know it'd probably just be Arcee rebounding after losing Cliffjumper. But I think them having a fwb type relationship while she works through her feelings could be interesting. Though this could just be because Bulkhead is big sweet and comforting and him holding anyone and making them feel safe while they're Going Through it is enough to get me saying God I Wish That Were Me.

Bumblebee and Smokescreen appeal to me in the same way seemingly very hetero frat bros who are apparently a very sweet and affectionate gay couple do. It's an inherently funny irony and also theyre just both cute himbos.

TFP Megastar is horrifically unhealthy in general and there is absolutely no way in hell it could work out. Not pre-war, not post-megs-redemption, nada. Which is why it has my brain in a chokehold. This is one of the ships I like because it's fascinating and because god it HURTS. Like I have my gripes with how the show portrayed the abuse overall but there were some things they were cooking with. Starscream being an obvious victim but then turning around and inflicting it on everyone around him? Girl no, the cycle of violence and abuse!!!! Girl no, you're refusing to do the complex emotional work of accepting that what happened to you wasnt okay and thus you carry out the behaviors you've gaslit yourself into thinking are normal!!!!!! Girl no, society has failed you and you have no support systems to help you break the cycles, but you also simply refuse to try in the first place because your pride wouldn't allow it!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The cortical psychic patch was literally my fave showcase of their dynamic in the whole show. "I don't want to play this game anymore!" Like jfc ouch. Also the thought of post redemption Megatron lamenting how he treated Starscream, not having considered the damage he's done to him before now. Trying to make it right and only making it all worse by inserting himself into Starscream's life again and realizing how badly he's broken him, how fucked it is that Starscream seems to revere him after EVERYTHING. God. GOD. I'm in agony.

Speaking of starscream in the cycle of abuse, KOSS has postcanon potential. (Post Predacons Rising, rid does not exist 😌) Like. They've proven they feel some type of way about each other. "I've always admired your lustrous finish." "😏" But Knockout was the first person in starscream's life to set a boundary in a healthy way. And when starscream inevitably ignores those boundaries and knockout leaves, you know how much it fucking hurts starscream to realize how badly he fucked up. But of course, the pride. He can't apologize. Can't admit he's the reason knockout betrayed him. So he'll choke back the tears. He'll try to, anyway. But he can't stop the agony in his voice while he feebly spits out "Fine! I hope Unicron eats you too!!" You know the second they shut the door on him, the waterworks started, and so did the closest thing to self reflection Starscream's ever done. He Has the Potential to be Better with Knockout, but he NEEDS to put in the work, and the suspense of wondering if he WILL fucks my whole shit up.

Rescue Bots

It is so close to canon that blades and bumblebee are boyfriends. Hell I believe it pretty much IS canon. He loves that bug so much. He gets jealous when he hangs out with Dani and not him. He hugs him for a photo the first chance he gets. And since we know blades is confirmed as being into dudes, I think we all know what they were getting at. TFP bumblebee has an anxious twink boyfriend that lives in Maine and we have no idea whatsoever if the rest of team prime knows.

Graham and boulder pine for each other like you would not believe. Once again, pretty much canon. You can't just have boulder keep telling Graham "well I like you just how you are" when Graham's trying to impress a girl and expect me to not think he has a big stupid gay crush on his best friend. They love each other so much as partners and as friends, I know damn well they'd be SICKENINGLY cute together as boyfriends. They'd probably try to stealth it at first bc a human and a giant robot alien in love? What'll the others think?? Gotta keep it secret. Sneaking off into the woods so Boulder can work on his "art projects" but in fact they are kissing. They're not as slick as they think they are, Chief Burns 100% picks up what's going on but he lets them think they're sneaky. Nobody actually has any problems with it other than Kade making fun of them a little but don't worry that's just him projecting.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Heatwave and Kade are the worst fucking tsunderes about crushing on each other. Between heatwave refusing to let down the brooding tough guy persona and kade being so insistent on staying hyper masculine (to the point where mild internalized homophobia is inevitable), neither of them can just be honest about how much they mean to each other and they gotta resort to getting each other's attention by being mean in very low stakes ways. I am drowning, there is no sign of land, you are coming down with me, hand in unloveable hand, except they're not drowning and they're just dunking each other in a kiddie pool repeatedly.

Heatwave and quickshadow are fun for similar reasons but with less shit lord pranks and/or lowbrow bitching, and more classy verbal sniping and sparring with each other because heatwave thinks it's hot when quickshadow kicks his ass. They're insufferably competitive and I think that could be very fun and incredibly messy, especially since they both need to learn how to communicate. Very bisexual, they are forced to share the brain cell, 10/10

I also just enjoy the idea of all the bots being in a polycule the same way I like the idea for TFA's team prime. They're very sweet together and they clearly care about each other a lot. Its just kind of nice when they all hold hands together, you feel me? They're sneaking off to kiss in the bunker bc they don't know if the humans know dudes can like other dudes. They are also not as subtle as they think they are.

Oh also doc Greene and chief burns dated once when they were teenagers and it didn't work out but they stayed besties, nobody can change my mind on this.

Beast Wars

Dinobot and Megatron are exes, 100%. Dinobot is probably the only being in the known universe that Megatron actually kind of cares about other than himself and his rubber duck. Otherwise he wouldn't keep trying to fucking clone him to make a version that will never leave him. There's also some implications here and there that Megatron really did want the world to be better for Predacons (along with the desire for power, anyway) and that preds are genuinely treated unfairly, so there's a pretty compelling angle of dinobot having been drawn to megatron because he saw someone with noble goals and a way to fix their fucked up world before becoming disillusioned with the dishonorable tyrant he turned out to be.

Dinobot and Optimus are also very good together bc it really truly feels like Dinobot finally found the guy with honor he thought he saw in Megatron. And he's infuriating half the time because he isn't nearly as bloodthirsty as he's used to, but GODDAMN does he make him Feel Things. The entire episode Gorilla Warfare has me obsessed with them. The bitching. Dinobot freaking the fuck out and Optimus tenderly removing the seed pod stuck to the back of his neck that was freaking him out and only laughing at him a little. Dinobot constantly trying to choose violence. The stupid smile when Optimus also chooses violence and Dinobot realizes he fucked up. THE BEDSIDE VIGIL. "It was my shift" AND YOU KNOW THEY WEREN'T TAKING SHIFTS. THE FLOWER ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE. "it is good to have you back." "Back home or back to normal?" "...both." THEY'RE HOMOSEXUAL, YOUR HONOR.

Dinobot (shit maybe I just really like dinobot) with Rattrap is good for similar reasons but the vibes are totally different. DoOp is all soft and sweet and patient and light ribbing, Dinotrap is talking shit at each other as a love language. Dinobot is a good guy but he's also, fundamentally, a bitch. Rattrap has proven he can match his freak by bitching right back. They love each other by pretending to hate each other. To the point where if Rattrap doesn't hear any comebacks he genuinely starts worrying because "oh, we aren't playing the game, why aren't you playing, are you okay?" They have so many soft tender moments where they prove they actually love each other. Their last conversation is talking shit!!!! "You're just a slag spouting saurian, but it's nice to know where you stand." "Upwind of you for preference, rodent." They loved each other!!!!!! Rattrap is fucked up over losing him!!!!!!!!!!! It's bittersweet, it's tragic, it hurts so bad and I love them so much!!!! They're stupid your honor!!!!!!!!!!!!

On a much sillier side, I do love Rattrap x Rhinox. Rattrap kissed that man twice. On the mouth. On screen. Annoying little gremlin who goes "nyehhhh" x big stoic dude who goes "hn." And they're both tech guys so they probably work on projects together a lot. And they all survive and are fine bc beast machines isnt real 💖

I have my problems with Silverbolt in general but I cannot deny that he and Blackarachnia are pretty damn cute together. He loves his girlfriend, they trash her shitty ex together, she loves that he doesn't try to change her. She gets to be the bad girl and the sweet knight in shining armor still loves her. "Dark poison of my heart" like c'mon.

Airazor and Tigatron are also pretty cute AND they have the honor of being the first canon gay couple in the tf franchise bc of the Japanese dub, which made Airazor a dude but left the romance unchanged (the Japanese dub was also just generally fuckin insane tho so it's not all that shocking).

Waspinator and Terrorsaur are boyfriends for real and for canon, John hasbro told me himself.

RiD 2001

I ship skybyte with that one girl that lives in a state of constant talking-car-based torment. Why? Because when I watched rid with my roommate we had a running joke that eventually they'd meet and have a whole robotfucker romcom arc and it kinda just stuck. This is my only rid ship and I will not be taking criticism on it.

Cyberverse

Bumblebee, Hot Rod and Cheetor are in a polycule together and nobody can tell me they aren't. Just how it's gotta be.

I want Perceptor and Dead End to kiss so badly. They're technically canon already given how hard the creators ship them. They hold hands your honor. "only a bolthead would go out there... UGH I'm such a BOLTHEAD" HES IN LOVE YOUR HONOR.

Hot Rod and Soundwave are great as enemies to lovers, they're so annoying 💖. I feel like they'd start playing gay chicken and be married with three kids wondering when the other guy is gonna back out.

SHOCKWAVE AND WHEELJACK OH MY GOD. fellas is it gay to program your drones which are just tiny versions of your own altmode to dance funny to Tetris music specifically because it makes your lame ass boyfriend laugh and then keep that function eons after you break up and still remember exactly what the command is? Fellas is it gay to get kidnapped by your ex and then get really excited about all the cool shit he's been making while you were separated? I wish they could've gotten a happy ending man, they could've been so cute together.

I don't ship it romantically but I believe in Grimlock & Arcee qpr. They love each other so so much they would've readily died for each other. I love their dynamic, they're insane 💖

Same goes for Shadowstriker and Soundwave tbh. Decepticon besties, and Shadowstriker being aro kinda just feels right. I like to think they cuddle and talk shit about Shockwave while Sounders blasts heavy metal. They play cod as the most insufferable duo.

Megop in cyberverse is so good because it really feels like they Had a relationship but it was unstable and moved too fast and they just assumed they were on the same page about things without communicating properly until suddenly they were in serious disagreement, and TRIED to work it out in a mature way but they were simply Doomed From the Start. And then it culminates in a whole fucking war but it rages so long, and they are so tired of fighting, and they realize they want to try again because nobody was really to blame for how things ended because they both handled it poorly. I wish they got that chance to try again properly. I wish when Optimus retired to just fuck around and vibe, he could've taken Megatron with him. I wish they could've fallen in love all over again.

Oh also Slipstream and Windblade being lesbian enemies to lovers bait was Fucking Phenomenal and I Love it So Much. They're smug and terrible and I want them to make out. They can make each other worse 💖

G1

I have not seen that much of g1 but I do know a few things are absolute truth.

Soundwave is gay for Megatron. This is arguably reciprocated.

Shockwave is gay for Megatron. This is not reciprocated but it is taken advantage of.

Starscream vacillates between gay for Megatron and trying to kill him. Megatron seems to reciprocate but only a little bit. Enough to keep him alive because he's cute. But megs also gets a lot of cuteness aggression so he feels the need to chuck starscream against the wall every now and then.

Powerglide and Astoria are tied for the pinnacle of robot on human romance in the entire tf franchise with Tracks and Raul, and if none of them come back in ANY tf media, I will riot.

Cliffjumper and Mirage have fucked at least once.

Wheeljack and Ratchet are gay married.

Optimus is bisexual and he loves elita-1 but there is something distinctly homoerotic going on with Megatron.

Conclusion

I like when the robots kiss <3

[rottytops]

i definitely think the adhd medication (successfully) rewired my brain and made me seek out long term goals over short term pleasure like i have been literally my entire life so now my current goals are to unfuck my credit to move away from my shitty roomies, get my new car and actually get into an ltr lmao

SUPRISINGLY ENOUGH 2 of these 3 goals are either in progress or very obtainable ive been saving a tunna cash and i can get a new car next month after i get my license renewed and ive found this cute little studio that i can maybe move into if i get help co-signing it, then ill just camp out there until my loans are paid off in 50000 years

the last one though.,,,,its so weird. the like. burning fervor to date someone long term kinda slugged me in the back of the head! ive always WANTED a nice relationship but it was never a PRIORITY to me bc i had video games or whatever. these new feelings made me realize ive been living my life like. entirely for myself which is FINE but my standards for myself (combined with how ADHD made me content with literally anything as long as it was easy) make me like. gutter trash tier as a partner, i think. essentially as i am now, unless the other person is equal parts deranged and shitty, im utterly unlovable which is like. tough tits i guess. but if im honest about it i can at least try to change it. part of me is conflicted; if i have to change myself to become more datable, is the person really dating me, or am i just creating a false persona to get conditional love. its a scary thought but at the same time im not really changing MYSELF past getting in shape and taking care of my skin, its more im giving up on being a dopamine addicted manchild and getting my own apartment. with my own car and stuff...these are actually just completely normal goals to have and i already wanted them i just kinda have new motivation for it lmao!

you cant just force a relationship and theres no way im attracting the hoes to me in my shitty room, so i think i need to??? go??? outside??? and hang out with ppl??? utterly mortifying but when i get my car next month i think i can actually do that. id like to make more irl friends as well, i had a bunch of friends in college so. i guess ill go to more smash locals or something but outside of that sigh sigh i have no idea.

these major revelations have all hit me in like the past 2 weeks, since i started my medication and the dosage was upped, i have a lot of work to do and not that much time to do it, really!!!! i hope i can become someone like. worth keeping around in a few months time...!!! the pieces are there i just need to like, put them together....



i could write a whole thing on how mad i am that it took me so long to get medicated and how fast i became a Normal Person after being on meds but like idk that line of thinking doesnt help anybody...!! i accomplished so much even with my debilitating ADHD and now i can do so much more with a mindset that can actually handle the shit neurotypical people expect me to be able to do, considering how im literally good at everything, combined with how ive managed to survive this long with almost no real help from irl people (seriously ive gotten more assistance from my online friends than literally anybody in my family both financially and emotionally) means that me WITH medication is gonna go absolutely insane. im going to be like ultra rich this time next year, probably LMAO....or at least have a boyfriend AURHUFG



anyway if u read this for some reason i love u and also give me ideas on going out and meeting people, i think i can hold a conversation just fine but where do people even GO. do you guys think ppl at bars or whatever know about disgaea. hmmm.

[astridthevalkyrie]

noooo cuddly levi I'm going to pass away and you brought back soccer captain collegebf!levi, omfggg. i love you. let me offer you these in return -

soccer captain collegebf!levi whose eyes are damn near heart shaped when you meet up w him on campus in one of his old sweatshirts he got from a training camp w his last name on it. he's too busy internally swooning to even hear you grumble about having to wake up for class. he reminds himself to ask his mom to pull all his other sweatshirts from his closet back home and send them to him. (leaves them laying around w a calculated and strategic amount of his cologne on it. you caught on ages ago but would never tell him just to ask bc you're actually gaining the most from this game he's playing)

goes w the last one but bc he's not the most publicly affectionate he absolutely loves the unspoken claim of his clothes on you. will most likely give you shit for it, but it has absolutely no bite. especially not as his fingers slide along the fabric as he winds his scarf to sit more neatly around your neck. the backs of his fingers brush the column of your throat and if you weren't so flustered by the gesture and the way he suddenly seemed to be crowding your space you'd notice the smile that's threatening to tug on his lips (he has to hide it behind the lip of his to go cup when you tell him scarves are your favorite thing of his to steal bc they smell like him and you get to bury your nose in the fabric without being weird, he probably calls you a freak but he kisses you almost immediately afterwards so you have no time to protest that) (he steals your scarf the next day)

mornings are your designated time to be clingy, evenings are his designated time to be clingy. complains when you don't go to bed at the same time as him. you can literally hear his sighing from the other room. depending on how long you make him wait, he will re-emerge under the guise of getting water. is not above pulling out all the best tricks in the book just to get you to come to bed w him. kisses? you bet. promises to help you finish your task in the morning? every time. sometimes if he's really tired he'll even cave and beg even if he knows you're joking when you demand it

collegebf!levi who everyone thinks would scoff at any physical displays of affection (he would NEVER deny your affection tho and is offended anyone would ever think so even tho you remind him he's to blame for that perception, probably kisses you both to prove you wrong and shut you up) and you have to bite your tongue so you don't spill the fact that mere hours ago he was grumbling into your neck about not being close enough despite one of his hands up the back of your shirt (he prefers skin to skin contact) pressing you into him and the other gripping your leg to keep it in place on his hip. a very common occurrence most nights but especially after days of conditioning practice.

ooh or the days that he goes out to celebrate or bond w his team (or even just out w friends) and you can't go, he comes home and it's when you hear the most sickly sweet, steal your heart things from him. coos quiet praises against your skin as he clings onto you. thank you for letting me love you into your hair before his lips brush against yours. all of the things he normally thinks but withholds comes spilling out. he can be an affectionate drunk, but it's only ever been w you, you bring it out of him. blushes and tries to deny it if you bring it up the next day.

studying sitting on the ground of your living room w your back against the couch and your laptop on the coffee table. when levi is done w his work he'll sometimes slide to lay w his head on your lap as you work. if you've got a free hand his lithe fingers are catching your arm and wrapping around your wrist, bringing it to press a kiss against your pulse before moving it to bury into his hair.

if he's working/studying and you're doing chores around the house he will sometimes move to different rooms to just occupy the same space as you. doesn't even necessarily talk, just likes the company. he says it's because he doesn't want you shouting across the house to talk to him and that he's keeping you company but it's most definitely the other way around. if you're folding laundry in your bedroom, he's sitting on the bed w his laptop (he hates it tho bc he read that you shouldn't ever work in bed bc it can psychologically impact the space and make it harder to sleep). if you're doing the dishes, he's sitting at the counter, annotating.

levi knows exactly how many kisses he expects a day and if you don't meet the quota he will give you the cold shoulder until you fix it. it's started to unintentionally Pavlov you to the point that if he's quiet too long you instinctually kiss him. he's noticed and will never bring it to your attention. sometimes when he's needy but doesn't want to ask he'll just get quiet (bc he's actually such a brat sometimes)

levi appreciates his alone time, believes it's absolutely required to maintain a happy and healthy relationship. but even then he's thinking about you. needlessly unlocks his phone to check the time rather than just switching on the screen bc while his lockscreen is fairly plain his homescreen is a picture of you.

if anyone were to ask, without a doubt you are the main contributor to any text conversation you two have. but levi has gotten into the habit of texting you things about his day as he goes about it. (it started w a conscious effort bc he knows it makes you happy but now it's almost instinctual to reach for his phone). complains about things to you, texts you random thoughts he has, will even send you pictures sometimes if he thinks it's applicable.

when levi is out of town for away games/tournaments that you can't attend he will call you every morning and every night. excuses himself from others by saying sorry I have to go call my girlfriend matter of factly like its just another task on his to do list but he hums a sweet and smooth hi baby when you answer. teases you for answering the phone quickly, but it makes him soft that you're so eager to talk to him. he's come to learn that while he doesn't like to leave he really likes the feeling of being missed.

when you're out of town he'll use your lotion, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, (even perfume if you've left it and he's desperate) whatever just for the smell. denies it but you know they're lower than when you left them. buys you replacements to try to get you to shut up about it.

in summary, i need clingy collegebf!levi who adamantly denies that he's clingy but will complain if you remove your hand from his for even a moment and steals kisses whenever he wants them regardless of what you're doing. -xx

you show up every time to completely wreck me and i can only thank you for it.

part 1 | part 2

collegebf!levi headcanons:

love the idea of you being on to his little ploy but still letting him get away with it because ultimately you get to wear his sweatshirts. it comes to the point where you'll be watching some movie with your head on his chest and you'll be tracing the little wrinkles forming on the shirt he's wearing before innocently asking, "can i have this?" levi, being levi, tells you to get your own clothes, but then he purposely leaves it out on the bed the next day and scowls when you reach into your own wardrobe to find something to wear. stalks off to class that way. when he meets up with you later in the day, you're wearing his shirt and winking at him from where you're standing and talking to someone as though to tell him he's not subtle at all.

as soon as it gets cold out, levi always takes the time to make sure you're bundling up anyways. sweater under your coat kind of deal. gloves. boots. and then he takes his scarf instead of yours to place around your neck, covering your mouth before you can say anything with a muttered, "mine's thicker, shut up."

levi h a t e s your laptop so much. because at 10 pm at night it's always you, a snack, the couch, and your laptop all curled up and that should be him. that should be him in such close proximity to you getting all your attention. he is absolutely not above shoving it to the side and throwing you over his shoulder or just tugging you to bed. and bless him, if he says he'll help you in the morning, he really will. you're the one who's complaining about having to be up so early, but he's by your side, giving you water and encouragement, proofreading your essay to make sure it's coherent, and hitting the submit button for you when you slump over on his shoulder and fall back asleep.

i will stand by the fact that levi's favorite position is sitting down with you straddling his lap. he loves your weight on him, he loves easy access to your neck and shoulders, and he loves murmuring directly in your ear and watching you shiver. his hands get to roam up and down and rest wherever he feels like it too. frankly, he doesn't care whether or not the two of your are talking, or if you're sleeping, or on your phone or anything else. just the position is enough to put him at ease and make the rest of his day.

oh my gosh. drunk levi. soft levi. soft drunk levi who mumbles, "love you so much," into your cheek. soft drunk levi who goes from clingy to whiny in the blink of an eye. soft drunk levi who is not amused if you aren't lavishing him with all your love and attention. you put him to bed and stroke his hair absentmindedly as he preens under your touch, but a pout immediately forms when you kiss his forehead and say you're gonna go get him some water. grabs onto your wrist and pulls you down saying how he doesn't need water, he just needs you, right here. and sure, that melts your heart, but he does need water, doesn't he know that? if you were drunk, wouldn't he get you water, too? all he does is complain that it's different, trapping you with his legs and burying his face in your neck. and then he just whispers sweet nothings into your ear, how much he loves you and how he's so lucky to be with you and how everything you do makes him fall even more in love with you.

he knows that ideally, the bed you two share is the best place to sleep and he's avidly against sleeping the night away on the couch or on a desk hunched over. but sometimes...it's just late at night, and you two have been working so hard, and your lap looks so inviting. if you take his invitation and start caressing his hair, threading your fingers through his locks and scratching at his scalp, he could probably fall asleep right there, lulled to sleep by the light clicking of your keyboard and his face pressed into your stomach. he knows that once you're done, you'll kiss his cheek and whisper for him to wake up, but he'll pretend to stay asleep for a couple more seconds so that you'll keep going and kiss over his eyelids like you always do. as though you won't continue once the two of you are in bed anyways.

cleaning together. CLEANING TOGETHER. for someone who's very very precise about cleaning, he's very gentle when he puts his hands over yours and guides it across the table, showing you that you don't need to bend over backwards to get rid of a stain. and then he'll stand there and watch, supposedly to supervise, even though you tell him repeatedly that he doesn't need to. the best part is that even when you miss a spot, he doesn't say anything, bc he's sitting on the couch and watching you over the screen of his laptop with a little smile on his face and miraculously, misses the spot entirely.

okay but babying levi when he goes quiet like this. cupping his cheeks and pressing kiss after kiss to his lips with little coos of, "have i been neglecting you, baby? i'm sorry, let me make it up to you," and watching his cheeks become a very pretty shade of red under your ministrations. he huffs and all, but nods slightly and mutters a short agreement that yes, you are neglecting him, and he is owed a certain amount of kisses. will lazily rest his hands on your hips and let you coo and fuss over him as you capture his lips again and again and again.

the picture on his home screen is one that you took yourself on his phone, but he set it later. it's you holding the phone up and pressing a kiss to his cheek (levi cropped himself out of the photo for the most part) and it was also pre-dating (which is why he cropped himself out, because his face is bright red in the picture). he didn't make it his homescreen until a couple months after you started dating, but he still gets kinda flustered looking at it and remembering what that cheek kiss did to the butterflies in his stomach when it first happened.

levi's texts range from going to get bubble tea now, meet me there to this dumbass professor just called me lenny to why the fuck do people think my headphones not being in is an excuse for them to talk to me to hange says party at 8 should i tell them to go away to fine, i'll rsvp, you're fucking annoying to don't use those ugly ass emojis to let me tell you exactly what i want to do to you right now.

oh god. the picture of him, outside or in a hotel lobby, leaning against the wall and murmuring a quiet, "hi, baby," when you pick up. even though he's the one who's playing a whole match, he evades your questions and asks you to tell him about your day first, focusing on the sound of your face with his eyes closed. you can hear his steady breathing over the phone. once, despite your protests, he skipped out on the celebratory post-match dinner and went to his hotel room to keep talking to you. both of you fall asleep without hanging up, soothed to sleep by each other's voices.

the first time you had to do a double take when you caught a whiff of his hair, you were so obnoxious. you continued teasing him even after he told you to shut up repeatedly, but you also cheekily told him that you thought the scent suited him.

not the jealous type, but definitely the possessive type. there's a difference, see—he doesn't care if people flirt with you because he trusts you and he's not insecure, but if they're doing it in front of his face he's going to glare at them so hard that they'll stop talking to you for the rest of the night. when you look at him accusingly, he smirks and looks away.

obviously loves getting kisses from you, but really, really likes kissing you as well. levi's lips brush over your forehead, your temple, your nose, your eyelids. he always saves your lips for last because he likes seeing you all needy and pouty waiting for him. when he finally does kiss you, he makes it last, sliding one arm around your neck to keep you hooked by the neck.

if you're working, he's not texting you during your shift unless you text him first but when he's working, he's not so subtly telling you about random sales and deals to get you to come visit him. it's not because when you come in you always pretend to be looking for something and thank him with a short, quick kiss whenever he helps you find it.

levi's not flashy. he doesn't describe himself as a fashionista. but if you're wearing something nice out, he's going to as well. you're That couple that is extremely hot without trying. and if you look good? sue him, he's going to appreciate it. is very thrilled when you're the one who comes onto him first, grabbing onto the collar of his suit and cooing, "you look good, baby." yeah. he really enjoys that.

it's finally while watching compilations of funny baby videos on your laptop that you finally look down to where he's resting against your chest, arms around your waist, and tease, "you're kinda clingy, you know that?"

"i can move."

"no." with a fond smile, you brush away his hair from his forehead and kiss his temple gently. "stay here."

levi huffs, nuzzling in closer with a firmer grip. eyes closed, he mutters, "yeah, that's what i thought."

[peaches-writes]

penalty kick

description: maybe you got off on the wrong foot...actually, jisung did actually pushed you off the wrong foot.  member: jisung / han  genre: fluff, slice of life, coming of age, childhood frenemies / rivals to lovers au, idiots to lovers au, neighbor au, high school au, college au, lil dashes of soccer baseball musician & campus dj au bc jisung ace, female reader, off-season universe (mc from naturally is jeoyeon, mc from tumbles & turns is bora, and mc from off-season is kira hek)  word count: 12k warnings: explicit language, alcohol (a tiny mention of underage drinking pls drink responsibly!), mentions of injuries, jisung issa lil dumb & a lil shit but issokay hes an adorable lil shit note: @crscendoforsung so i scraped the witch jisung au (but i’ll come back to it in the future maybe it’s still in my drafts lol) so here is dumbass jisung for now + im away on christmas day so here’s my gift a day in advanced lmao

Age four. Your neighbor and favorite playmate, Han Jisung, pushed you so hard on the swings at your neighbourhood playground that you literally flew out of your plastic curved seat and bruised your knees, elbows, and chin. 

Maybe you did had it coming from continuously complaining that he ‘pushed like a sissy’ and even standing up on the swing set just to brag that you can balance all of your body weight on such flimsy material. Maybe your neighbor has always had a secret grudge on you finally enacted through this incident. Either way, the next thing you knew, a wide-eyed Jisung was on your side alternating between calling for adult help, crying over your bruises, and muttering curses he probably heard from his older brother under his breath. 

“Shit, shit shit...” He squeaked out frantically in his tiny voice, gently moving you to a sitting position on the stone pavement and dusting the dirt off of your bleeding injuries despite your loud complaints that your entire body was hurting. Looking around your surroundings, his breath then got caught up in his throat at seeing your mother fast-approaching with a mix of furious and worried in her expression. “Auntie! Help!” 

Your mother was hovering over you in an instant, examining your bruises with furrowed brows and clenched teeth. “Ah, dear God, what happened here?!” She exclaimed in a scolding tone, piercing gaze darting between your tearful eyes and Jisung’s panicked ones. “Jisung, did you do this?” 

“It was an accident auntie!” The boy in question answered immediately as he shook his head nervously and scooted away with his hands up in defense. “It was an accident, I promise!” 

However, with your back turned to him then, you naturally had a different impression of the incident as you quickly retorted, “He pushed me, mommy! He pushed me off of the swing!” 

Your mother never made any clear indication that she believed you as she simply shook your head and lifted you by your shoulders and knees, carrying you to a nearby bench to treat your wounds. 

Angered by your outburst, Jisung reluctantly followed you and your mother to the bench then glared at you until your injuries were cleaned and bandaged. With his arms crossed and a permanent frown bordering a pout on his lips, he stood next to you in his attempt at looking visibly angry for a puny five-year-old while you hissed and whined in pain the entire time. 

What’s worse is that his own mother made him apologize by sending him off to the nearest convenience store to buy you apple juice and steamed buns. Because of this, you’ve been mortal enemies, rivals, each other’s designated future potential killer, whatever you want to call it ever since.

Age seven. Han Jisung helped perpetuate a wild rumour that you and the rest of the class’ female population had ‘cooties.’ 

It’s only natural for boys at this age to gravitate to similar actions, of course. After all, you’ve heard worse from boys in the other classes (read: Hwang Hyunjin crying and demanding to get sent home because a girl kissed him on the cheek on the first day of classes). It’s the fact that Jisung actually seemed to have to believed it for a brief period of time in your first grade, however, that completely threw you off. 

He pulled on your braids during the time he sat behind you and kicked your shins while in line for P.E. class to ‘test your anger patience’ that was apparently fueled by cooties and occasionally stole your snacks for actual ‘DNA evidence’ of said cooties among other petty little things. It was nothing short of annoying and the very bane of your existence then. 

“Han Jisung cut it out!” You yelled at him one day, hitting him on the shoulder with the curved end of your wooden broom during after-class cleaning time. In this particular incident, the boy managed to swiftly take one of your pigtails out while wiping the windows in an attempt to ‘examine’ the DNA in your hair. 

“What?!” He snickered, taking a big step away from you and lifting up the blue scrunchie to examine it for miniscule strands of loose hair. “It’s for research!” 

You groaned in annoyance, reaching forward to retrieve the scrunchie with one hand while the other instinctively ran through the messed up half of your hair. “Jisung, give it back, you weirdo!” You scolded through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes when he shakes his head stubbornly and takes another step back from your reach. 

“Tell me the secret first!” 

“Secret of what?!” 

“Do you girls actually have cooties?” He quirked a genuinely suspicious eyebrow at you, raising the scrunchie above your heads after when you proceed lunge forward at him. “Does it actually make you guys this irritable all the time?” 

Somehow, the questions struck some kind of nerve in you. You were tired from classes, cleaning, and having to put up with Jisung’s childish antics. Maybe 1st grade girls did have cooties but for tapping into unbridled anger. “I’m going to kill you!” With the broom in your hands and the dust pan you snatched from his in retaliation, you then proceeded on repeatedly hitting Jisung in the forearms and shoulders until he surrendered with his arms protectively over his head and your scrunchie finally within reach. 

He also offered to fix your pigtail back for you but given the amount of distrust you already had for him, you simply smacked him one last time and went to the other end of the room to fix your hair. 

Age nine. Maturing a little bit through summer camps and classes, you and Jisung redirected all of your energy from physical violence to outsmarting each other in class. 

It started in English class when Mrs. Lee introduced the idea of recitations garnering students points and a fancy award at the end of the school year. Coming from the same piano class in the summer prior wherein you and Jisung also competed for your instructor’s attention, the two of you were quick to consider this as another one of your competitions. 

You devoted most of your time to studying the lesson from the what’s, who’s, when’s, and where’s while Jisung thought that focusing more on the deeper why’s and how’s would somehow garner him better points no matter how many times Mrs. Lee reiterated that all recitation points are given in 1 point’s. 

As the school year progressed, especially after the first semester report cards came out and the two of you were tied to first place in English to the very third decimal, the academic rivalry immediately extended to competing for the most amount of extra-curricular activities. You were more favored with the way you handled baby animals at the local shelter and competed in debates and quiz bees while Jisung was mainly noticed by the soccer and baseball coaches and the school choir’s moderator for his skills in sports and music. 

Jisung’s mom, who always picked the two of you up from school in her minivan, obliviously thought it was cute. 

“You know, instead of competing over everything all the time, you guys can take some notes from each other.” She pointed out one time after hearing your comment on Jisung ‘smelling like a polluted Pacific Ocean’ as he climbed in the backseat of the car. The sentiment almost went in one ear and came out of the other with the two of you, however, as Jisung proceeded on complaining that you smelled like ‘Cruella de Vil’s fake fur coat’ then hitting you on the head with his soccer ball. “Especially you, Sungie. You can learn a thing or two of keeping a goldfish alive for more than a week from Y/N.” 

You laughed at Jisung’s immediate shocked reaction of wide eyes and gaping mouth at this, slapping his arm in amusement and toppling over the backseat in laughter. “Yeah, Sungie, you really need help from that department.” You stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, laughing even more when he groans and hits you back with a light punch to your own arm. 

“Stop it.” He hissed at you before turning to his mother again, meeting her gaze through the rear view mirror. “Mom! You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

Mrs. Han was also stifling her own laughs then, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead instead of checking for her son’s pouting expression and crossed arms through the mirror. “Okay, okay.” She chuckled playfully with a dismissive hand, catching your eye after with a giggle. “Y/N, you should learn how to commit to exercise more with Jisung, then. There? Happy?” 

Satisfied, Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at you as if completely forgetting the fact that he was attacked by his own mother first. “Bleh!” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a light-hearted scoff of your own, laughing away the way he proceeded to exaggeratedly tease you. “You’re so childish, Sung.” 

When your moms did seriously consider this idea later on, you were then forced to dedicated one weekend to taking each other to your respective extra-curricular activities. It was right before your final examinations and Jisung ended up getting scared over a golden retriever giving birth while you received severe cramps from the elementary soccer team’s rigorous conditioning training. 

It was a recipe of disaster, basically, and it ultimately led you and Jisung to cram knowledge for your exams on Sunday night in his bedroom. When you stubbornly didn’t learn anything from going to each other’s favorite extra-curriculars, you unconsciously ended up learning from each other in the six hours you both stayed up trying to review your notes. Miraculously (as in the miracle of hot brewed Milo-induced sugar rushes), it went well and the two of you tied or were close in grades at the second release of report cards.  

The only downside of it all was just the fact that the fancy recitation award in your English class that started it all somehow went to Hyunjin. 

“Ah, this is so frustrating!” You exclaimed on the ride home from school. You had your report card in your hands like Jisung, looking back on it all the while stressing out about Hyunjin winning the award the two of you spent a whole school year competing for. 

On the other side of his mom’s backseats, Jisung then turned to you and suggested, “Want to prank him? We’re playing soccer next week, you can swap his Cola for soy sauce.” 

You glanced over at Jisung, your pout slowly turning into a mischievous grin at his raised brows. “You’re onto something...” 

Age ten. You went on your first class field trip with a stuffed purple lunch bag of snacks.

Your mother specifically suggested that you share it with Jisung, thinking that the two of you would sit next to each other on the bus since he’s your only classmate she’s actually familiar with. But of course, when Jisung didn’t bring up any hints that he knew of this while waiting for the school bus to arrive, you immediately thought against it and planned out how you were going to hide your seemingly endless supply of snacks from him on the back-and-forth rides to Namsan Tower.

It was a well thought-out plan involving sitting near to the front and as far away from him as possible with your own group of friends then hiding the lunch bag under your seat until you caught Hyunjin not-so-discreetly trying to steal from you while he re-checked attendance after a stop-over.

“Jisung put you up to this, didn’t he?” You frowned, candy successfully retrieved from Hyunjin’s prying hands and popped into your mouth as the lanky boy scratched the back of his head in shame. “It’s okay, Hyunjin, I won’t kill you. It’s Jisung’s corpse I’m planning to roll down Namsan if he’s actually behind this.”

After a few more coaxing, Hyunjin eventually nodded sheepishly and admitted to Jisung convincing him to take a candy bar from you.

“Ya! Hyunjin!” Jisung whined from across the bus, peeking his head up from the identical red seats with balled up fists. “I told you not to rat me out!”

“Y/N was being scary!” Hyunjin argues back, sprinting back to his seat as soon as the the bus stopped at a streetlight. Hiding under the sea of seats, he then exclaimed, “You two take me out of your fights! Geez!”

Jisung pouted at you as soon as you lifted your own head up from your seat and turned around to face him, holding his hands out in front of him and then asking, “Can’t I really have candy?”

You shook your head stubbornly. “If I give you one, everyone’s going to ask me for it too.”

“But everyone’s basically asleep!”

“They could be fake-sleeping for all I know!” You hissed, popping another ball of candy in your mouth. “I don’t trust anyone in this class with food but myself.” 

“Y/N!” He whined, only to get pulled down by force when the bus abruptly begins moving again. Scrambling up right after, he then continued pleading, “Please?”

“No.” You firmly concluded, sitting back down on your seat. 

Jisung even tried staying behind to try and steal candy off of you while the entire class was piling outside to enter Namsan Tower, only to trip in surprise when you jumped on him from crouching under the seats. Poor boy almost hit his head on the seats in shock.

“I knew you’d pull this kind of shit.” You tsked in disapproval with a slight stutter towards cursing at such an age, smacking him over the head anyway before throwing the smallest piece of chocolate candy you had from your bag. Moving past him to the bus exit, you then added, “You don’t even do nice things for me.”

You only meant it half-heartedly, though. Whether Jisung actually wanted more candy or he did sincerely felt bad over what you said, either way, he paid for the expensive pink lock you and your friend wanted to hang at the very top of the tower later on but only if you promised to share your snacks.

Jisung received three packets of gummy bears and a bottle of banana milk from you in the end on the ride home.

Age twelve. The Hans temporarily moved to Malaysia in the summer before the seventh grade because of an assignment for Jisung’s father at work.

On the day before their flight, Mr. and Mrs. Han organized a farewell party in their house at the other end of the block and invited your entire class. Jisung tricked you into getting him a farewell present by telling you that everyone was planning to do the same thing as a surprise but he secretly found out thing.

He didn’t actually expect you to get him something, not with the way the two of you have always been at each other’s necks since you were kids, but you ended up surprising him in the middle of the lunch party by giving him a small notebook of useful Malaysian phrases you wrote down yourself. You don’t always agree with Jisung but you think of yourself as thoughtful and civil enough to buy something practical. Also, your parents insisted. 

“O-Oh, you actually got me something?” He fumbled through an intense blush that matched the redness of his Supreme cap, almost tripping over nothing as you both stood on the steps leading down to the back of his house. It didn’t help that a few classmate passersby were glancing your way as well, either cooing or snickering at the awkward sight in the corner of all the socialization. “L-Like—like, this is actually for me?”

You raised a brow in confusion and reluctantly shrugged, releasing the red phrasebook from your grip as he held onto it by the other end. “Yeah, you said you’re getting presents so I...got you one.”

“I actually lied—“

“What?!” You exclaimed a little too loudly for your taste, earning you a sharp glare from your mother all the way across the backyard. Mouthing a quick apology to your her, you then quickly averted your glare back to Jisung who instinctively resorted to looking at anywhere but you. “But you said—“

“I thought for sure that no one would give me any farewell presents since it’s not a birthday or anything but I know you would if you’re like forced to or something so I thought...hehe...” He mustered up a sheepish grin, pressing his index fingers together in a comical shy gesture. When your glare intensifies, he then immediately held his hands up in defense and visibly winced, “Ya, don’t hit me!”

Every fiber in your being really wanted to hit him with the notebook then, maybe even push him down the stairs while no one was looking, but after a moment of thinking your way out of such violent thoughts, you resorted to exhaling a sigh and saying, “Whatever, just keep the notebook or something. I don’t care. It’s not expensive, anyway.”

You chanted to yourself that you’re mature, especially as Jisung’s eyes lit up and he immediately thanked you for both the gift and sparing his life that day.

Though he didn’t hear the end of the other teasing from Hyunjin after that, Jisung kept the notebook around anyway throughout his entire two-year stay in Malaysia. It was helpful but he’ll never admit that to your face.

“You kept it.” You pointed out one day, more as a statement than a question as you realized that the notebook he was using for exam reviewer notes was in the same color as the phrasebook you gave him. When Jisung came back in the summer before the ninth grade, the two of you met again in the same cram school wherein mostly everyone but you and the transfer student, Kim Seungmin, refused to help him keep up with the heavier than usual workload. “The phrasebook...”

“Yeah—well, I didn’t want to waste any of the pages you didn’t write on.” He pouted stubbornly as he flipped through the older pages to compare the amount of pages you used to the empty sheets. His tone actually sounded like he was convincing himself much more than he was trying with you but you missed it complete in the moment. “Be more eco-friendly, Y/N.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him. “Glad to know I kept you alive in another country somehow, then.”

Age fourteen. You went to a soccer game to see Jisung but only because one of your friends, Eunha, developed a crush on the striker and eventually hatched a plan to confess on the game before Valentine’s Day. Fortunately, Jisung barely noticed and didn’t tease you for it since it’s already an established fact that you’re always at his games with either Yang Jeongin or Seungmin to cheer on Hyunjin instead.

You really didn’t get it. Of course, fifteen was the time when some, if not all, parts of your day were starting to become dedicated to vanity and all the artificial things in life to attract kind of puppy love in school but at this point Jisung always wore the same green hoodie, red Supreme cap, and white ‘Eyez on You’ shirt to every school function that didn’t require wearing a uniform.

You understood how your classmates suddenly began fawning over Hyunjin right after the summer when he got his braces removed and then Seungmin for bringing a suit and tie one time for an inter-school debate but the hype over Jisung suddenly bringing in his guitar to class breaks everyday and re-emerging as a star soccer and baseball player throughout the school year is an absolute mystery to you. That or, maybe compared to your junior high peers, you’re just as used to him at this point than they all are. In your perspective, the only legitimate thing he has going on is how he always seems to beat you in most Arts subjects and how annoying it is that he always makes sure to rub that in your face. 

“I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t shower properly right after training.” You shook your head disapprovingly at Eunha during the game. Soccer is an interesting sport for surprisingly bringing you up to stand and cheer at some moments, you’ll give it that, but watching Jisung get cocky and interact to the crowd whenever his team scored a point was somehow cringe-worthy to watch. “And I’m so sure he still doesn’t clean that soccer ball of his right after practice. You deserve better, sis.”

But no matter how much you talked shit about him throughout the entire game, Eunha still held onto the box of handmade candies she coerced you into picking up from Jisung’s favorite candy shop on the weekend prior and cheering him on with the slogan she made herself. It would’ve looked cute and sweet to you if it was some other guy but it’s Jisung—the guy who pushed you off a swing, pulled your hair, stole candy from you, and made all of your elementary after-school rides home an actual rollercoaster—and you would never wish his treatment of you to any other person ever.

“You said that was in elementary, Y/N.” Eunha chuckled softly, nudging your elbow before a sour expression could completely overtake your face. “Surely he’s outgrown that girls have cooties phase every boy had then.”

“No, it’s Jisung and I refuse to believe it.”

You really didn’t want to believe it with your natural instinct to see Jisung as the bane of your existence. What’s worse is that Eunha was right and Jisung shyly accepted the Saturday movie date at the mall that she came up with on the spot when he surprisingly received the candies well, a complete stretch from the Jisung who would’ve lied about being busy or tricked your friend into doing something else altogether. Suddenly, it was selfishly annoying that you’re the only one he actually tortures the life out of.

“Told you.” Eunha giggled throughout the drive back to your house. Your mother picked you up from school right after the soccer game for a sleepover you insisted was a must whether or not your friend scored her Valentine’s Day date. “Ah, I’m glad he accepted. I was a nervous wreck there! You don’t happen to know what kind of movie he likes, do you?”

You never heard the end of it from her for the remainder of the semester. The two were never official—middle school just didn’t have that solid idea of significant others, then—but they did went on numerous ‘dates’ almost every weekend that followed Valentine’s Day. Naturally, Eunha would tell you all about it. 

“He’s so sweet and caring and thoughtful!” The girl endlessly gushed out to you so genuinely you would’ve been happy had you not been sincerely expecting a major fuck-up from Jisung. Nothing romantic really did come out of these dates, even Jisung surprisingly swears by it, but they did become really close friends after and as Jisung’s only other female friend at the time, you can clearly see a point of comparison between his different treatment of you. “Though, I’m gonna give it to you that he is annoying sometimes but he does know a lot of good places to hang out around town for someone who’s been away for two years!” 

“He does the bare minimum for everything, Eunha. I could barely call it sweet.” You scoffed unamused. 

Age sixteen. In the summer after the tenth grade, an upperclassman from school by the name of Lee Minho started volunteering at the same local shelter you’ve been under since elementary after surrendering a lost cat to you while he and Jisung were playing baseball at the nearby park. 

He adopted Dori in the end but prior to finalizing the adoption papers, he actually made the effort to come in at your MWF schedule to help around and see the dark grey kitten. To you, it was endearing and thoughtful since you didn’t have much active co-workers at the shelter your age but to Jisung, it was slightly inconveniencing how Minho would cut off their play-time to see the cat. He even thought Minho had a crush on you and vice versa but you knew that Minho liked one of his own closer friends. 

“Jeoyeon?” Minho scoffed, crouching down next to you one time as you watched over the new litterbox of kittens eating with Dori on your feet. Crossing his arms over his knees, he shook his head and chuckled, “They’re cool and we’ve been friends for a long time but I’m sure they have a big fat crush on Bang Chan. Something happened after their McDonald’s date after our prom, I’m telling you!” 

“No, not Jeoyeon! I meant Bora!” You argued back with a laugh, picking up a white kitten that wanders off to your feet and lifts its body up cutely for a lift. Gingerly pressing the kitten to your shoulder, you then turned to Minho and continued, “The one who came by the other day to see Dori with you. Aren’t you guys rooming together in college?” 

Minho clutched his chest dramatically at this, shaking his head with a comical conviction. “What?! How could you accuse me of that, Y/N? Bora’s from a different cheerdance team! That would be like sleeping with the enemy!” 

You rolled your eyes, knocking him off of his balance by elbowing his sides. “Ya, I didn’t say that, you did!” You scoffed at him, sighing when he laughs off landing on his butt before sitting up in a crisscross position. “Anyway, don’t you like her?” 

“If I don’t like her, we wouldn’t be making all these plans to move in together for college, stupid.” Minho snickered, earning him another elbow jab from you. “Well, what do you want me to say? You asked me if I like her, you didn’t ask me how exactly I like her.” 

"Okay then, you wise wise person: how do you like Bora?” You sighed dryly, plopping down on the ground at feeling your ankles starting to ache from crouching. The kitten on your arm then jumped down to your lap, circling your legs a few times before finding a comfortable position to sleep in. “You know, the more you visit here with this kind of sarcasm, the more I’m starting to understand where Seungmin and Jisung are suddenly getting all of their newfound sassiness from.” 

Minho chuckled next to you, picking up Dori for himself once he saw him finish eating before hugging the kitten gently to his cheek. “Bora’s...someone I’d probably punch a guy in the team for if they ever disrespect her. I mean, I’d punch a guy for Dahyun, Jeoyeon, and Jihyo, too, of course, but Bora’s in the same sport where she’s always getting lifted in the air and touched by who knows who and now that we won’t be in the same team, I feel even more responsible for keeping an eye out for her.” He shrugged casually, ignoring the way your jaw just dropped at how naturally he explained himself. “Plus, it took a lot of convincing to get her to be my roommate so I can’t really have her dying under my care in the next four years.” 

“I—” You furrowed your brows in thought, pursing your lips in a pout. “Wow, I’m jealous.” 

“Then get on my good side, Y/N.” Minho winked with a laugh, holding Dori in front of you. “Let me take this baby home at the end of the summer.” 

You rolled your eyes again at this, shaking your head. “No, I mean...I hang out with Jeongin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung and they aren’t really the most well-versed boys on treating girls properly.” 

“That’s why you hang out with me. We all know that Hyunjin just can’t say no to anyone who offers him a slightly more expensive bouquet of flowers, Seungmin’s in a relationship with baseball and academics, and Jisung...Jisung’s just dumb in general.” Minho then pointed out with a somehow knowing tone, smirking when a familiar figure passes by the hallways right behind you. “Speaking of...” 

Jisung joined you and Minho after, making sure to sit in between the two of you and drowning himself in as many kittens who wanted to sit on his lap as much as he can. “Dude, you shouldn’t have left early!” He scolded Minho with a pout and a slightly breathless tone from running all the way from the park. “Seungmin joined us today and he completely wiped out Sunwoo’s team!” 

“Then even more reasons to come here early so you guys could play with Seungmin on your team.” Minho laughed, gently handing Dori over to you from across Jisung before standing up and dusting the lint off of his jeans. “Y/N needed help with feeding the cats and puppies today, anyway.” 

Jisung frowned, turning to you after and asking, “Don’t you have any other co-workers around here?”

“Jeno has allergies so I don’t let him in here on most days.” You shrugged, handing Minho the empty pet bowls nearest to you as he proceeded to clean and collect them. “I can do it myself, you know. It’s just that Minho comes over and insists.” 

“Then you should’ve just told him that so we can play longer.” 

“Why is it a big deal? Do you like Minho?” 

“Do you?” Jisung’s eyes widened, almost getting scratched by a random cat in the process. “Because...because that’d be gross, to be honest...”

At this moment, your eyes accidentally met Minho’s right behind Jisung and the older boy had the audacity to wink at you before sprinting out of the room with a thumbs up above his head. 

In the end, you shrugged and answered, “I like him.” 

“What?!” Jisung sat up so quickly he almost scared a bunch of kittens walking all over his chest into jumping away.

“I’d be a psychopath if I don’t like him but let him volunteer around here, dumbass.” You deadpanned, moving the kittens around him to a safer space on the floor. “Besides, you asked me if I like him, not how I like him.” 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” 

Minho had a whole laugh out of eavesdropping from this conversation that he felt bad and actually adjusted his schedule for volunteering and playing soccer better so ‘Jisung would have one less thing to whine about all the time.’ 

Age seventeen. You and Jisung tried convincing your respective parents that going to prom as a group is the more practical and actually trendy thing to do but your mothers wouldn’t have it. Ultimately, the two of you ended up lying that you’re going as each other’s dates. 

You initially planned on begging to Seungmin until he pulled up balloons, roses, and a song number to his lab partner right on the lunch break that you planned on doing it and, of course, you had enough dignity to not fall in line with the countless of students that basically worshipped Hyunjin’s locker as if it were a shrine. 

Jisung, with Eunha already set on going with someone else she started dating at the beginning of the 11th grade school year, was the convenient choice. Your parents knew each other, he knows someone (his older brother) who can drive, and he’s recently gotten over his Emo-Hypebeast wardrobe phase after joining the school’s radio club with Chan and Changbin. With some convincing (read: an elaborate PowerPoint Presentation he made you do on the spot during one of your lunch breaks), the two of you decided that you would take all the photos your respective mothers wanted, carpool to the hotel, then go on your separate ways until his brother picks the two of you up at the end of the night. 

It was a simple and fool-proof plan, one that you almost forgot when you rented an emerald green and gold prom attire then Jisung’s mother told you right after about hearing her son trying to order a purple callalily boutonniere that clearly did not match your taste nor your colors (you sorted this out by cancelling the order and taking matters into your own hands). Then, the most awkward photo op at your house happened. 

“Sungie, put your arm around Y/N!” 

“Y/N, stop slouching, you’re going to wrinkle your outfit!” 

You were never serious-looking in any photos that had Jisung in it as well, preferring to pose like the two of you planned on murdering each other right after the photos instead, but your respective moms were holding your Instax camera and the family film cameras across the living room in this particular situation and so you reluctantly kept it inside. Straightening up your shoulders and elbowing Jisung to at least wrap an arm over your shoulder, you held up smiles right next to your red rose corsage and boutonniere set until the two women were eventually satisfied with their photos. 

“Aah, you two really make a cute couple!”

“Mom, we’re not a couple!” Jisung whined, glaring at you after which you immediately returned with the same expression.

“God, I’d sell all my limbs first before we actually become a couple.” You deadpanned back at him.

Fortunately, Jisung’s older brother allowed the two of you to basically try and throw each other out of the car windows on the thirty-minute ride to the hotel venue in compensation. You almost had him by the neck and he almost ruined your hair that you spent hours curling until Hyunjin pulled you back with a smack to your head and dragged the two of you away to help in the Prom Committee’s final preparations since Jisung was going to perform with Changbin and you were a part of the Prom’s Logistics team. 

You mostly stayed out of each other’s hairs for most of the first part of the program as you were busy pulling everything together while Jisung was having the time of his life with the soccer and basebal teams. The next time you bumped into each other, you scolded him for running late to his and Changbin’s set after dinner. 

“Where were you?!” You mostly hit him in the back with your clipboard, frantically passing him his already set up electric guitar and a microphone. First, one of your peers got drunk too early in the dinner to help out in the program, then one of the event’s award sashes briefly went missing and, not to mention, a lot of the people from the other committees somehow forgot about their event tasks when you asked in the main groupchat. You really weren’t having anyone’s antics at this point. “Geez, we already practiced this!” 

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! Why are you so on edge?” Appropriately, he whined in complaint and took a step back after receiving his equipment, holding his hands up in defense as he always does. “Cut me some slack, Y/N! It’s prom!” 

“You’re so late when your table is literally right next to the side of the stage!” 

“I was dancing with everyone else! You wouldn’t know since you wouldn’t even take a break!” 

“Because I’m busy!” 

“No, you’re just being more irritable than usual!” 

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.” You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh, coldly directing him to the stage. “You’re on, get on the stage.” 

You knew he didn’t mean it cruelly, especially when his pupils started to shake and his shoulders instinctively slumped as he glanced back at you right before reluctantly stepping up the star-filled stage, but you were too tired of having to run around and making the event perfect for most of the night to process anything, much less his usual jabs at you. Being in such a tired headspace, you couldn’t enjoy his songs no matter how undeniably great they were, much less meet his eyes when you knew how he kept glancing at you throughout the entire set. 

He even covered your favorite song on the spot (which surprised Changbin and had Hyunjin running around backstage to inform everyone of the sudden extension) but you already sat down on your shared table with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Eunha, and their dates before he could even begin singing the chorus.  

“Hey, you good?” Minjung, Eunha’s date, asked you with an offering of an extra shawl to cover your exposed shoulders from the nearby air-conditioning unit. Eunha had previously left to go to the bathroom after stopping by your shared table. “Y/N, I told you if you needed extra help with the program, you could’ve just told us. We just planned on dancing tonight, anyway.” 

“I’m good.” You grumbled in a half-lie, resting your chin on your propped up hand tiredly, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ for the shawl as you fought away your tiredness. “I think I’ll just sit the rest of Prom out. Hyunjin can run the program on his own.” 

Minjung frowned, sitting down next to you and fixing the loose strands on the haphazard ponytail you managed to pull up in the middle of the program. “Are you sure? Eunha and I can stay with you until you’re feeling better. Besides, the program’s still long, you deserve to enjoy your hard work later at least.” 

Stubbornly, you simply scrunched up your nose and shook your head. “I think I’ve had enough of prom for one night. You should go and dance more, though. I’m okay as long as you guys are having fun.” 

But equally as headstrong as you are, Minjung got Eunha in on convincing you to agreeing to one dance with them as soon as she came back from the bathroom, reasoning out that, “We can stay in the back and just dance silly! It’s prom!” 

The pair proved themselves to be unstoppable in their joint persuasiveness when they got you to stand up and actually join them at the next set, right as Jisung was about to approach you to apologize. The poor boy ended up waiting the entire night until the two of you were alone instead, shivering right next to each other at the lobby while waiting for his brother to pick you two up. 

“Why did you even pick out something off-shoulder? I get that it’s trendy these days but you picked the venue knowing it’s cold and didn’t even connect a few dots there.” He hissed lowly, contemplating on teasing you further or keeping it quiet until he can muster up a ‘sorry’ to you. Shrugging off his jacket, he then gently draped it over your shoulder and added, “Don’t catch a cold or something...your mom’s going to kill me.” 

“Shut up.” You hissed back, crossing your arms further in over your chest as you spotted his brother’s car approaching the lobby’s driveway. You didn’t remove his coat from your back, though, clutching it tightly instead while convincing yourself that he willingly gave it to you so there’s no reason for you to throw it back at him when you really needed it. “ You don’t even do nice things for me.”

The familiar words visibly caught him off-guard, almost foiling his plan of opening the door for you as he freezes in his steps but he regains composure in time and almost trips ahead to swat your hand away from the car’s door handle. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled in the awkward silence, gulping down his fears of your death glare as he briefly averted his gaze away from you. With this, he missed the way your gaze softened. “There’s candies in the pockets.”

And there was, coincidentally enough the same brand he tried stealing from you on your school field trip.

“These aren’t expired, right?” You chuckled, popping a chocolate in your mouth anyway. 

That was enough for Jisung to relax his shoulders and laugh along. “No, promise.” He held a hand up as if he was swearing by his words, easing you into another fit of laughs. “I ran all the way to the convenience store down the block to get you those tonight! I felt really bad...I didn’t mean it.”

He could be sweet if he wanted, you’d give him that. 

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered to him at the end of the night, right after scoffing at him for insisting to walk you all the way to your doorstep of course. “I was so stressed with managing everything that I took it out on you.” 

Standing awkwardly with you right in front of your house’s front door, the sheepish boy rubbed the nape of his neck and shrugged. “Nah, I think I deserve it. I do annoy you a lot, don’t I?” He chuckled, eyes trained to the ground. “I didn’t even ask you to one dance.” 

“Not like you actually had to, we’re no—” 

“But you were still technically my date and I don’t want to be a bad prom date, even to you!” He insisted anyway, only then looking up at you. “I’ll make it up to you in the distant future, okay? Reserve me your next dance in the distant future, no matter where it is!”  

Before you could even retort, he was already running back to his brother’s car. 

Age eighteen and a half. Jisung began dating a girl named Haneul whom he met in one of his general classes and didn’t have one single clue about baseball or soccer. Naturally, his entire friend group was concerned. 

Though you’re much civil friends now, you still didn’t really care. Or maybe you didn’t want to out of spite (or a really really weird and displaced feeling of jealousy?), you weren’t sure. You just thought that Jisung can do whatever he wants even when it’s something that’s generally not advisable when you’re a freshman in college, but it seemed as if it was all Jeongin talked to you about whenever the two of you met up to study for one of your shared classes so naturally you forced yourself to take in all of the gossip. What’s worse is that Hyunjin would come over often to loiter around the library and gawk at the cute student librarian, ultimately encouraging the younger boy to talk about it more. 

“You’re being unfair to her.” You always reminded the two, sometimes Seungmin when he would sit quietly in the middle of the topic and say nothing to defend Haneul. In this particular time, Jeongin took you to watch the baseball team’s Wednesday scrimmage after hours of studying your nursing notes together at the nearby library. “Like, look, I don’t even do any sports myself but you guys hang out with me.” 

“But you’re different, you’re not dating any one of us.” Hyunjin snickered, hugging his helmet to his chest as he sat a step below you on the bleaches. When a thought then crossed his mind, he dramatically gasped over his gloves and added, “Wait, does that mean you have a crush on someone? Is it me?” 

You smacked him in the head with your hand, rolling your eyes after. “You know what I mean.” 

Next to you, Jeongin mustered up a shrug as he tried getting an injured Kira to sit back down on her seat. Your stubborn best friend, after playing at an underground derby game on the weekend prior, kept on moving around because sitting down with her injuries made her uncomfortable. “But at least you make an effort for us even if it’s just small.” He reasoned out, huffing tiredly when Kira finally sits down and promises not to move for the next five minutes. You would’ve helped him but personally you thought he deserved to suffer alone after letting her go out despite her injuries today. “Haneul got dragged by Jisung to watch last week’s scrimmage and didn’t even last a set. She just left in the middle of the game—literally!”

“He made Jisung skip on my derby game to too!” Kira pouted, waving her bandaged hands frantically in the air. “I’m personally offended, Y/N!”

“And she doesn’t seem to like talking to us in general.” Hyunjin shrugged in conclusion. “Like, sports aside, she’s a bit rude and nonchalant when she talks to us in general especially when Sung isn’t around. It’s a bit sus to me.” 

“To be fair, Kira, I wouldn’t be going too if you and Yeji aren’t so insistent on it. It’s so worrying seeing the two of you get hurt.” You pointed out before averting your attention to Jeongin once more. “And Jeongin, you know the only reason I can’t leave baseball and soccer games these days is because you and Seungmin are usually my ride home.” You scoffed. “If I could, I’d be hanging out with Felix more and only going to Kira’s games. Ya, why is he even allowed to skip games and I’m not, anyway?”

“Because he’s taking classes and training with the cheerdance squad until 8 PM and as far as I’m concerned, you’re free after 12 noon like me!” Jeongin simply grinned at you, earning himself a glare. “Also, I need you here with me as the medic team. You know I’ll panic alone!” 

Fortunately, no one ever actually gets injured at any of the games regardless if they were formal or not. By the time the game has finished, you were reminding Kira to rest more at her dorms and sprinting out of the baseball field to the samgyeopsal place the team promised to treating dinner at. You completely missed the boys’ conversation on Haneul in the process but you did get free food.

You really didn’t get it. The one time you met Haneul by chance, when you and Felix bumped into the two at the mall near the supermarket, she seemed a bit distant but she could be polite when she wanted to. Of course, it rubbed you the wrong way but you and Felix thought that it was none of your business anyway, given that neither of you are dating her. 

“When the guys walked me out of the baseball field last Wednesday, they did mention something about Jisung aiming for the soccer national team but who knows if they’re exaggerating again or something.” Kira confided in you later that week when the two of you met up over lunch. “Either way, I’d understand. If I were in Jisung’s shoes, I’d feel a little disheartened if someone I really like doesn’t appreciate the things I’m passionate about!”

Still, you simply let your friends sort it out for themselves. “Jisung’s a grown-up, he can figure things out on his own at the end of the day.” You reasoned out. 

Age eighteen and three-fourths. Jisung asked—practically begged—you to go to the movies with him because he and Haneul broke up the week before his birthday after opening up his worries to her. The other ticket was meant to be a surprise for his ex-girlfriend.

From what Jeongin and Felix have gossiped to you on two separate occasions, Haneul apparently didn’t like you and the rest of Jisung’s immediate friend group no matter how many times the boys tried warming up to her and getting to know her over the summer. She didn’t really support Jisung’s passion for sports, too, and mostly just stuck around for the ‘clout of it all’ or however Felix worded it to you. 

“I’d ask Hyunjin but he has a date with that librarian!” Jisung frowned over the phone on the night before the scheduled screening of Weathering with You. Reminiscent of a similar time long ago, he sounded more like he was convincing himself than you. “And Seungmin’s taking care of Kira, Minho and Felix are training, Changbin’s doing God knows what with his finals, Chan has swim training and—and yeah, you know where I’m going with this!” 

You sighed, rolling over on your back in your bed after submitting your online work. “You can ask the baseball team, the soccer team, your Introduction to Musical Theory class, the campus radio club, and—and yeah, you also know where I’m going with this.” 

“Yeah but—but it’d be weird if I just went with anyone or something!” He mumbled under his breath, pausing on the other line to scratch his head in thought. “Come on, it’s not your midterms week yet, right? Can’t you come over and go to the movies with me?”

“You’ll probably strangle me in the dark or something.” You argued next. 

“But it’s free tickets! At least you’re going to die with free tickets!” 

“So you are planning to kill me! I knew it!” You snorted dryly, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, don’t you have anyone else to go with? Why me?” 

Jisung took in a sharp breath in the longest pause you’ve ever heard from the usually rowdy boy. At that moment, only then did you notice the faint sounds of pre-recorded dialogues for soccer arcade games. He must’ve been at the one near his dorm then as he usually was when he was contemplating on something. “I just—honestly, I’m still processing all of this and I don’t want to open up to the guys...and Eunha’s abroad and I’m not that close to Kira or Bora so I thought of you.” 

Now, it was your turn to be speechless. 

“It’s silly, I know.” Jisung continued with an awkward laugh when he didn’t hear anything on your end. “But even when you’re annoying sometimes and you always get angry at me because you always misunderstand, you’ve known me the longest and I know you listen well and you’re always open-minded about things so I thought I’d vent to you, if it’s okay...” 

You finally released a defeated sigh, sitting up properly on your bed as if he was actually in the same room as you. “God, you’re too good at making me feel guilty.” You mused out loud. “Fine, just text me the place and time and no funny business!” 

You met up with Jisung at the nearest shopping center the following night, surprise paper bags of take-out and a mini cake for two to eat at the cinema. 

“I’m only going to be nice to you this time because you just got dumped and it’s your birthday later.” You explained as serious as you can to a giggling and blushing Jisung, handing him the take-out paper bags. Once the dinner meals are in his hands, you then take out the blueberry mini cheesecake from its separate paper bag and set up the candle you brought along with it. “Now, make a wish and get it over with.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened at the pink candle suddenly being pushed up to his face, distracting him from the passersby cooing and making comments at the two of you. “Really?” 

You nodded impatiently, thrusting the cake further up his face. “Yes! Now, blow on your candles or I’ll do it myself and eat the whole thing!” 

Jisung wasted no time blowing the single candle and taking the cake from you as well, jumping up and down in place as he closed the lid carefully and returned it to its paper bag. “Thank you!” He exclaimed gleefully, pulling you to a side hug. “Now, I feel a bit better.” 

“You better.” You frowned back at him, biting down a small smile when his hug lingered on a second longer. “Now, let’s go or we’ll be late to the screening.” 

Fortunately, Jisung didn’t actually tried strangling you in the dark while the movie played since he became busy with eating his dinner and cake as well as crying over the plot. 

Age nineteen. Jisung took you to the arcade inside the shopping center after to vent while scoring kicks at the mini soccer game. 

“Basically, she said—” Score. “—that she felt annoyed that Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin were mostly onto her for ‘seeming off’ whenever they met or interacted.” Another score. Standing outside the protective fence, your gaze darted quickly between Jisung and the small net across the long room. “So I said that’s just how those guys are: they’re very curious of new people and make a lot of effort over it so when they feel that the other person’s energy seems off or doesn’t match theirs in any way, they’d worry.”

You nodded along whenever he glanced over to you, agreeing halfheartedly. “Hm, those guys don’t take bullshit, of course...”

“Yeah, right...” Jisung kicked another ball, barely missing the goal as he thinks of what to say next. “Then she started accusing the guys that they don’t like her because she doesn’t do sports which doesn’t even make sense because I know it’s not superficial like that.” He sighed, scoring again. After this particular kick, he then stopped altogether and turned to you. “The guys just feel off that, as someone I’m dating, she doesn’t make enough effort to watch my games or be familiar with the sports I love. It’s not the same thing.”  

“But does she make an effort to listen to your music?” You blurted out of nowhere, surprising not only Jisung but also yourself. 

It just occurred you to on the spot. All this talk about Jisung’s passion for sports had you thinking if Haneul also disliked the one other thing that Jisung was absolutely passionate about: his music. 

And it seemed to have caught him off-guard as it took the boy longer to contemplate on the question. “I—n-no? No...” He furrowed his brows in thought, walking over to you on his side of the chain link fence. “Come to think of it, she never told me what she thought of the songs I used to send her for feedback...”

You nodded, mumbling under your breath, “So much for defending her from everyone last summer...” 

“Hm?” 

“Like, I’d get it if your friends don’t immediately warm up to her because that really does happen in some relationships and it can be remedied over time but not appreciating the things you, the person she’s dating, are passionate about is another thing. If she doesn’t like the things you’re passionate about, then maybe she really isn’t the one you should be with.” You shrugged nonchalantly. “She could be all things nice but if she doesn’t support your own ambitions, other things that make you really happy, then everything else doesn’t mean anything.”

When he doesn’t speak, you allow yourself to continue. “Kira told me that you’re aiming for the national team in either baseball or soccer which is a bit surprising since I know you’re already being sought after for your music even at university so clearly those things are very important to you. Having someone around that doesn’t see that importance enough to make efforts is a bit meaningless in the long run, if you think about it. You...you deserve better, it’s what I’m trying to get at.” 

Still, he wouldn’t speak after everything you said. Instead, the boy just gaped at you from the fence. It definitely unnerved you as time dragged on longer. 

“I let you vent and made my own input on it like you wanted me here to and you just gape?” You tsked through your nervousness, crossing your arms teasingly and leaning over the fence on your side. “Ji, say something.” 

“...thank you.” He finally breathed out before you could complain further, catching you off-guard this time. “I needed that.” 

“What?” 

“This whole thing just made me feel really conflicting feelings.” He confessed, voice lower than usual now as he mirrored your position. “Thank you for listening and telling me what you thought. They definitely made a lot of things clearer.” 

You smiled, shoving him slightly through the fence separating the two of you. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it birthday boy?” You teased, laughing even more when he pouted at your teasing tone. “So? Feel better, then?” 

“A bit, yeah.” He nodded, grinning widely now. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.” 

“You won’t admit it to my face but I know you’d do the same for me if I annoyed you into it enough.” You shrugged, standing up properly now and walking over to the entrance. “Now, would you let me play? You’ve been at it for twenty minutes, it’s getting tiring watching you.” 

He laughed at this as you joined him in the arcade space, kicking a soccer ball towards you as soon as you came in through the chain entrance. “What? You think you can do better?” 

“I had to watch you all the time after school back then because you were my ride home and Mrs. Han always picked us up late. I’m sure that could amount to something.” 

Age nineteen and a half. For a mandatory community service class, all of your friends signed up to volunteer at an orphanage. 

The majority vote was actually at the shelter you used to volunteer at but your old neighbourhood was too far from the university you were attending and so the most practical option, the orphanage just two blocks away, was the natural next best thing. And from this one semester’s worth of experience, you definitely learned a lot about your friends. 

For one, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were only popular with kids but only for their looks (additionally, his baking skills for Felix). Whenever you passed by them during volunteer hours, you would often find the three buried underneath a pile of toddlers hitting them with all kinds of toys. Feeling bad, you actually got the orphanage’s matron to assign them to the older kids after a while. 

Seungmin and Kira, on the other hand, were so awkward at first but naturally got into the groove of it. Maybe it’s because they only started dating then and everything was flustering but they surprised you the most with how much they got along with almost all of the kids regardless of age. 

Then, there was Jisung whom almost all of the younger kids practically fought over to play with at the playground. As if it was an inside joke of some sort, it made you laugh the most how the kids would often ask him to push them at the swings. 

“Careful now,” You reminded him once jokingly, elbowing his side as the two of you approached the swing set where the kids were already waiting to get pushed on their respective seats. “don’t want their knees to get scraped or something.”

He simply scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I won’t let that happen, not at this age.” 

“So if I asked you to push me on the swings later, you won’t try and kill me this time?” You asked next, waving hello to the children before going around the swing set to gently push them to momentum. Jisung followed suit, making a beeline to his favorite, a toddler named Ara who always asked to be pushed higher on the swings. 

“That’s a trick question because we’re not actually allowed to play here.” He answered matter-of-factly, turning to Ara right after. “Isn’t that right, Ara? Y/N isn’t allowed to play here because she’s an adult, right?” 

The two of you would sit on the swing set and take turns pushing each other when the orphanage staff weren’t looking anyway, giggling amongst yourselves while watching the kids migrate to the jungle gym. 

“You were so annoying when we were kids!” You mostly complained, letting yourself laugh about it now as it was all in the distant past. “You had the ‘girls had cooties’ phase and everything.” 

“Because the boys all said it was true!” Jisung was quick to say in his defense, twisting the chains on his swing around to make himself spin. “And I was seven so of course I’d believe them that easily!” 

“What about when you pushed me from the swings?” 

“We both know that was an accident.” 

“You could’ve secretly held a grudge against me as early as that time! You were so mad when your mom made you buy me snacks!” 

“Because you told your mom that I did it on purpose! I thought you hated me even before that too.” 

“Well, I never hated you before that, just to set the record straight.” You shook your head immediately, turning your swings to the side to face him briefly. “You? Did you ever hate me?”

“Never.” He shook his head back at you in response, equally serious now. “You were annoying at times but that was because I was kinda annoying to you too.”

“What about now?” You asked next, voice unexpectedly wavering at asking such a question and even more when he chuckled at this. 

“You were with me on my what was almost my worst birthday ever just three months ago. What do you think?” He scoffed playfully, returning to his spinning to ease his flustered face. “Besides, we’re like better less-trying to kill each other all the time friends now! We’re even studying together again these days.” 

“We both know you’re only at the library since you’ve been trying to wingman Hyunjin with the librarian and dote on Jeongin like he’s your baby.” 

“What? No, I’m there for you too! Moral support!” 

Age nineteen and three-fourths. Jisung’s older brother invited you along with your parents to his wedding during the Spring break and Jisung immediately jumped on the chance to redeem himself as ‘the best dance partner you ever had.’ 

You didn’t even think he’d remember something he said himself back then. Personally, you thought it was just his guilt from pissing you off or sleepiness from dancing too much at prom that was talking then. But the moment the dance floor was opened at the rather extravagant cherry blossoms-themed wedding, the best man was by your side within seconds after sprinting from his table across the wedding hall. 

“Y/N!” He called to you as he ran to your table shared with all of your friends, your parents, and a few people from your childhood neighbourhood; his obnoxiously loud voice against the jazz music and his hand raised up above his head to wave at you catching a few guests’ attention. “Y/N!” 

Felix was about to ask you to dance after Seungmin and Kira as well as Hyunjin and Jeongin paired up, your hand already up in the air to accept his, but Jisung was quick to swat your hand away from the other boy as soon as he arrived. “Sorry, Lix, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N away!” He dramatically interrupted in between tired pants, flashing the confused Felix with a sheepish grin. “I owe Y/N a very important dance!” 

“What dance?” You raised a brow, bringing your hand away from his and back to your lap. 

“The one—t-the one I promised you that night a-at prom.” He sighed, finally catching his breath after. “I promised you then, remember?” 

From the corner of your eye, Felix’s eyes lightened up in excitement as he clasped his hands together and cooed. “Aww!” He giggled, making you and Jisung turn to him after. “If that’s the case, then why should I stop you two? I’ll just see if Chan or Changbin aren’t dancing yet!” 

“But Lix!” 

The other boy’s quick to wave his hands to you snappily, shaking his head. “No buts, Y/N! You two go and do that cute promised dance thing you have going on! I’ll be fine!” He assured, much to your protests. “I knew something was going on!” 

“Nothing’s going o—“

“Thanks, Lix! I owe you, dude.” Jisung pats Felix’s shoulder appreciatively, turning to you after and taking your hand once more to pull you up into a stand. “Now, come on! My brother said he has my songs on queue!” 

He whisked you away before you could protest further, taking you to the dance floor just as the music slows down to his own song. “Right on time!” He even exclaimed happily before placing his other hand on your waist. You’ve heard this one before as the one he would always sing at the Open Mic Nights at university. “Now, to make it up to you...” 

Jisung didn’t dance so bad. He was still playful, making it a game between the two of you on who can step on the other’s feet the most when the next songs became more upbeat, but he was serious when he wanted to, sheepishly apologizing that it took him long to make it up to you. 

“I didn’t even remember it until you brought it up tonight.” You assured with a laugh as the song slowed down once more. Without even realizing it, you’ve danced all of the songs in the two-hour setlist with him. “I didn’t think it was important.” 

“Well, it is to me.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he can, visibly looking nervous towards the end. When you quietly asked him why, his only response was, “Because that night I really realized that even when I liked annoying you, I don’t like pissing you off so much to the point that you hate me.” 

And at that moment you realized that Jisung has some way of catching you off-guard so randomly. “W-What? I mean—” You wanted to joke something along the lines of ‘wow, took you long enough,’ but the words ultimately never came out as Jisung chuckled at your baffled expression. 

“I mean, trying to piss each other off, joking around, competing over studies—those are our things.” He confessed sincerely, unconsciously tightening his grip on your hand as the song progressed. “But I said something that night thinking of it as a joke and not really considering the thought that it would piss you off so much because you were so stressed already. I didn’t like pushing you on edge like that—” 

“You already apologized and everything, it’s all g—” 

“—But most importantly, I really wanted to dance with you then, regardless of the incident.” He breathed out before you could even finish your thought, rendering you speechless for the second time. “Maybe I’ve always liked you then, maybe even before that; either way, I really wanted to have one moment where we weren’t fighting or anything—and, surprisingly, even when we’ve started hanging out better, I still want one. I still like you.” 

You immediately stopped dancing, bumping shoulders with a stranger behind you which Jisung instinctively responded to by pulling your frozen form to the side of the dance floor. You pursed your lips once to speak, only managing to fumble out, “Y-You...you liked me?” 

“I said I like you. Present tense.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, hands dropping to his sides immediately at sensing how tense and awkward the atmosphere suddenly became. “And I like you the way Seungmin dotes on Kira and Minho’s always protective of Bora and Jeoyeon’s been helplessly pining over Chan, those kinds in case you’re going to pull that how exactly do I like you bullshit you learned from Minho before again.”  

“I—r-really?” Was your only response as you tried your best to process this revelation. “You like me? W-Why—why me?” 

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yes, Y/N, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” He teased as casually as he could muster with his growing nervousness. “And why you? I don’t know, either, but I think I can start remembering as far back as the time you teased me at the playground that I push like a sissy but didn’t look for another playmate anyway. I’ve always liked you...just a little bit more now that I’m much more sure of a lot of things.” 

It was all so overwhelming, honestly, but you belatedly muster up a laugh as he recalled such a distant memory from you. “Y-You...God, Han Jisung, you’re insufferable!” You mumbled under your breath, hitting him by his arm with one hand while the other covered your mouth. “Why didn’t you say so?” 

“So, does that mean you like me too?” 

“I let you dance with me the entire night. What do you think?” You scoffed playfully, gaze softening as you looked up at his relieved smile and bright eyes. “You did push like a sissy at the playground when we were kids, though.” 

Age twenty. When Minho bought his roommate flowers to their last cheerdance competition and asked her to be his girlfriend, Hyunjin dared you to one-up the upperclassman and wear Jisung’s jersey to his own final game of the year.

“Well, you did give him that talk over dating someone who appreciates the things he loves.” Eunha told you over video call with the rest of your friend group on the day Hyunjin brought up the idea. Before you could even protest and repeatedly assure that you do support everything Jisung does, she was quick to add, “Yeah, I know you do appreciate them but I just think it’s fitting now! He’s been making a lot of effort for you lately and didn’t you say you wanted to do something in return? Maybe you can finally ask him what you’ve been wanting to ask for a while now too...” 

You hated how she was right and very convincing about it. Since the wedding earlier in the year, Jisung has been nothing short of nicer to you. From actually hanging out with you at the library now (and not just to wingman Hyunjin or dote on Jeongin), buying you food randomly, to letting you vent your own worries and unwind from school by playing soccer with you or playing you music with his guitar, he’s been ‘making it up to you’ with quality time and sweet gestures; the only catch is that he hasn’t officially asked you out like he would. 

The two of you aren’t exactly the direct words type of people but it’s still nice to have some sort of affirmation. 

With a few more coaxing on her part combined with Seungmin’s own persuasiveness nagging at you in real time, your friends eventually got Jeongin to steal one of Jisung’s spare soccer jerseys later that day to give to you for his game on the following Saturday. 

To say that Jisung was flustered is an understatement to say the least. Quickly catching you at the very front of the bleachers before the game started, he waved at you and the rest of your cheering friend group shyly, approaching only when the coach gave him permission to. 

“Hey, that’s mine.” He snickered with even more sheepishness at seeing you up close, holding the jersey he wears by its shoulders before gesturing to the identical one you wear. The two of you stand by the stairs leading down to the field, on the side where you aren’t in the way of passing players and staff. “The jersey—maybe the one wearing it too.” 

You held up the bouquet of daisies in your hands close to your face, effectively hiding the heat rising up to your neck. “I bought your favorite flowers too.” You pointed out next before gesturing to your friends sitting around you. “Those smartasses dared me to outdo Minho’s stunt at the cheerdance competition which I still think is dumb since you were in on that one but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?” 

“Just seeing you is already enough.” He added with a flirty wink, making you cringe teasingly. “The jersey’s a really big bonus, though. I think I can score everything on this one because of you.” 

“You better or else this jerseys’ going to be mine now.” 

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head immediately, pulling you closer by the waist in his now ritual good luck hug from you and placing the flowers back on your sides. “I don’t mind calling you mine too.” 

The cheesy pick-up line makes the two of you laugh. Either way, you push yourself to not let go of him too soon. “...ew, Jisung!” You hit his back instead, heaving a sigh of relief anyway before finally pulling away from his hug to send him off. That’s enough confirmation now. “Now, go win this game and get it over with. We’re still on for movies later, right?” 

“Yep.” He assured, patting your head affectionately before boldly leaning closer again for a kiss. “I’m looking forward to it!” 

[puppy-phum]

pingxie thoughts (and prayers) pt. 3

hello friends and pals and random peepers! it’s been a while again, mostly bc i’ve ended up binging way too many other dramas instead of rewatching ultimate note. but now i’ve watched three more episodes and finally got to one of the scenes that actually made me start this whole damn thing! so please enjoy (or suffer, your pick)!

and ah, as a side note: am very grateful that they have removed the chinese subs from the episodes! expect a ton of new edits from me in the future ^^ 

Xiaoge and the meaning of food

This is a random tiny detail I’ve paid attention to bc of some personal stuff am not going to talk about. It’s just very interesting to watch Xiaoge doing normal, mundane things when he’s been so strictly honed into being something infinitely more. You don’t always come to think about the great Zhang Qiling and his relationship with something as natural as eating.

(placing under cut once again bc this got longer than expected!)

I am especially paying attention to two scenes in this (with a third one on the side as an extra): the moment in episode 9 where Xiaoge finds the extra food Wu Xie left for him, and then the scene in episode 11 where they have survived the night with the snake invasion. As an extra, I also consider the beginning scene of episode 11 where Xiaoge returns and Wu Xie very petulantly offers him the asked food. On all occasions there are some heavy meanings placed on food (and sharing it?), and as someone who always wonders about Xiaoge’s relationship with his own body, I came up with a couple of interesting thoughts.

First of all, I think the whole fandom knows and agrees on Xiaoge being very… dissociative when it comes to his own body. He has been brought up via pain and fighting, he has learned to trust in his own blood as a weapon, has become overly aware of his body’s every function bc he always has to know his condition, and while doing that, he has forgotten how his body feels. He has forgotten how it feels to want to be touched or his boundaries being respected, and bc of this, he has learned to treat his own body as an instrument for survival instead of something to be taken care of or valued.

And here, in walks Wu Xie. Young and naive and very, very physically affectionate Wu Xie (and Pangzi, let’s not forget our resident cuddler). You can see it in TLT1 and 2 when Wu Xie just keeps getting close to ppl and giving shoulder pats to everyone and having no issues with any of that. We see it in Ultimate Note when Wu Xie lets ppl to just cuddle him in his sleep (I keep saying he’s everyone’s chosen body pillow for a reason). The same thing continues in Reboot where we get possibly the cuddliest Wu Xie to date. But that’s not really the point here. The point is – Xiaoge doesn’t have boundaries. No one has ever allowed him to have those. For him, physical touch is mostly violent. No one really treats him as a friend and then we have Wu Xie.

But this post is not about physical touch bc at this point, that is pretty much established. Pingxie are very comfortable with touching each other (for as long as censorship is fine with it too) tho they don’t touch as often or as excessively as Wu Xie and Pangzi for example. For them it’s small bc Wu Xie knows that Xiaoge has never been allowed his boundaries (and especially in Ultimate Note he comes very aware of this after we learn about Ah Kun) and he doesn’t want to force Xiaoge into anything as long as he doesn’t know what he wants. So, physical touch aside, what else are we left with? Xiaoge taking care of himself. And more specifically: eating (bc Xiaoge’s blood obsession is another topic, and I guess we all are aware of his (and Wu Xie’s) issues with that and Xiaoge getting hurt in general).

So, in episode 9 we see this brief moment after Xiaoge has chased after the mud man (his acquaintance, Chen Wenjin) and Wu Xie and the others have inevitably moved on without him, where Xiaoge returns alone to their previous camp. He discovers his backpack and Wu Xie’s note which says: “Xiaoge, we’re off to look for Sanshu. The rainforest is dangerous. Be careful.”. Before reading the note, he’s gone through the supplies left for him. Chen Wenjin points out that there is extra food, and Xiaoge tells her instantly that Wu Xie left it for him. It is implied that it’s an occurring theme in their relationship: Wu Xie leaving Xiaoge some extra food.

From what I know of Asian cultures in general, sharing food, eating together, and making sure that your loved ones have eaten is a big thing. It’s not even limited to proper meals, continuing to simple things like snacks and drinks too. But then we put in the aspect of survival and food being a slowly dwindling resource. Here, Wu Xie has deliberately decided that Xiaoge needs this food more than he himself does. He has, in some sense, decided to go hungry in favor of Xiaoge. It’s like him saying, “Here, take this from mine. Because I know you get hungry too. Because I know you are human in that way too even if you tell me you’re fine.”

In relation to this, I wanted to bring in the “extra” scene I chose, the scene we see in the beginning of episode 11 (which is also probably all of our favorite silly Pingxie scene, right? At least I get a stupid smile on my face every time). In that, Wu Xie is following suspicious footprints to one of the tents. He is expecting a fight (Boy has a damn shovel! He’s ready to whoop ass!) and rushes in – only to find (a very muddy) Xiaoge looking for what other than food. Apparently, his stock has run dry. His only words to a furious Wu Xie are, “Food.” I don’t even blame Wu Xie for instantly melting at that, it’s so sincere.

I think about this scene a lot (for other things than Wu Xie’s adorable crumbled face as he shakes his tiny fists in fury). I wonder, how often does Xiaoge ask for food like this? Bc I somehow can’t believe that it’s often, knowing who he is. Maybe it’s a distraction technique against Wu Xie bc he knows that Wu Xie is worried about him, and what better way to make Wu Xie think about other things than to look miserable while attempting to get food? It’s working perfectly imo. Tho Wu Xie is still asking about things and Xiaoge refuses to answer bc well, he can’t stop Wu Xie from asking. But it’s somehow so funny to me that Xiaoge’s go to tactic for making amends is allowing Wu Xie to take care of him in this very simple and mundane way.

Then finally to the scene I based all of this around. This is a scene at the end-ish of episode 11 where the day has come again after their hellish night of fighting against snakes. Pingxie have crawled out of their shared and collapsed tent to see the mostly destroyed camp. They are eating porridge. Or Wu Xie is eating it bc here’s the deal: Xiaoge isn’t eating at all.

I dunno why on my first watch of Ultimate Note, this was the scene that totally broke me. I didn’t cry before this bc everything managed to be so light with all the humor but then I saw them sitting here and it just opened up a faucet. The moment Panzi asks if Xiaoge is alright (boy was poisoned during the night and Pangzi didn’t even know if Wu Xie succeeded at getting the serum to him, gosh the stress) and Xiaoge doesn’t really answer and then Wu Xie reaches out to squeeze his shoulder like he’s making sure – yeah. That was a lot to take in. Bc then Wu Xie says, “Have some porridge.” And Xiaoge nods and proceeds not to touch his plate.

What I gathered from my thoughts – once I was done sobbing that time and now, after watching this again – is that I’m not sure how often Xiaoge has forgotten to eat. He is going through stuff basically every day. He goes to places where eating isn’t always an option or even a possibility. He has learned to survive, yes, and he knows that food is a necessity for that but how often has he convinced himself that he doesn’t need that either? How often has he just not eaten, especially if there are others around? I must say that I think it’s quite often.

Because, think about it: even here, with his friends, after one hell of a night, he sits with a plate in his hands and doesn’t even touch the porridge on it. He acknowledges that he has food at all only after Wu Xie has told him to eat. Wu Xie looks so worried while saying that (and his shoulder squeeze before this seems like he’s noticing how skinny Xiaoge is). And I don’t really know how to put this into words but I just feel like Xiaoge needs guiding with his eating habits? He has eaten whatever or nothing at all for so long that it just. Isn’t a habit anymore. Food feels foreign to him. Enjoying food feels even more foreign. Regarding food as something he, too, needs, instead of allowing others to take it as they are more human than he is – that’s something he needs to learn again. And I dunno how it’s going but Wu Xie and Pangzi are doing their utmost best.

So, yeah. Food is a weird thing. I dunno how any of this really came out but my point is: Xiaoge has disconnected from his own body in so many ways and so deeply that even these basic human things sometimes feel foreign to him. And only in relation to Wu Xie (and Pangzi), he’s finally recognizing that. That is probably also why they work so well, why Wu Xie becomes so important to him. Why Wu Xie, as someone who tries to bring out Xiaoge’s humanity, works so well bc he’s so thorough in showing that. His attempts at convincing Xiaoge of him being human don’t stop at him trying to show that Xiaoge is a good man but go deeper, into these very basic, instinctual things like touch and rest and eating which Xiaoge has also forgotten bc he’s not been allowed to be.

[starlightsearches]

i’m not sure if you’ve written something like this before, but if not, can i request a Hux ficlet post-TROS (where he survived the blaster wound bc i refuse to acknowledge canon) where he comes back to a woman who he was in love with who joined to resistance and it ended REALLY BADLY, but he’s come to make amends and to tell her that he was the spy? is that too much for a ficlet 😬 i’m sorry

Absolutely friend, no need to apologize!

Armitage Hux x GN Reader / Warnings for angst and some injury stuff

You should have pulled the trigger.

Before you saw the cane, the bandages—the sorry look in his eyes that stilled your finger. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Armitage anywhere but the jittery holos of pre-recorded speeches. Your eyes rake over every facet of his features now in the same way they usually did in those private moments, like you’re still searching for a sign of the man you once knew.

If you kill him now, you’ll never see that man again.

He stops just on the edge of the trees, one hand up in surrender; his weight rests heavily on the cane, but you’re not inclined to believe him totally helpless.

“Cuff him,” you jut your chin in Armitage’s direction, and Dav—your second-in-command—moves forward, approaching him cautiously. You keep your blaster raised when you look him in the eye.

“What are you doing here?”

“Please,” he winces as Dav cuffs him, shifting his weight more heavily to the uninjured leg now that he can no longer hold the cane, “I want to speak to Dameron.”

You kiss your teeth as anger sparks your senses. It shouldn’t bother you—shouldn’t annoy you that he doesn’t seem bothered, seeing you here, after all this time. But still, it does.

“General Dameron hasn’t returned. Last we heard, they were trying to rescue Chewbacca from your people.” A ripple of pain travels through your chest at the word captured, a bubble of anxiety swelling as it moves from the tips of your fingers to the space inside of your lungs. After everything that had happened, you couldn’t lose Poe, too.

“They’re not back yet?”

That catches your attention. You look up sharply, watching as he flinches again in response to Dav’s failed attempts to help support his weight.

“We didn’t know they had escaped,” you give up on the blaster, holstering it at your side and moving closer, plenty confident that Armitage couldn’t fight a stiff breeze in his condition, let alone you and Dav together.

“What happened?”

“Dameron and the others were captured, but I helped them escape,” he raises his hands, brushing open the front of his uniform with delicate fingers. There’s a flash of white in the gap created in the fabric—a bandage, marred by the slow creep of red, the dried blood so dark it has stained the bandage black, “I was found out; they shot me for it.”

He meets your eyes for the first time. Flickers of something familiar pass between you—embers you can’t stomp out beneath the soles of your boots. Against your better judgement, you release the cuffs, and you already know that you’re bound to regret this.

“Go back to the base, Dav,” you say without looking at him, “try and get in touch with the Falcon, if you can.” Or the spy—words you think but don’t dare say, although Dav seems to understand, resting his hand on your shoulder before he leaves. You erase the thought from your mind; there’s only so much energy you can spend on worry.

“Come on, then,” you gesture for Hux to follow, setting a steady pace, unwilling to let the silence settle. After a moment, you hear him move, trailing awkwardly behind you as he tries to walk over the uneven ground.

There’s a heavy sadness that still hangs in the air around the base, clinging to your friends as they cluster in small groups, talking in hushed voices. More than a few teary eyes look up as you approach, their sadness momentarily taken over by curiosity, mouths dropping open at the sight of the enemy general strolling through the camp.

“The princess . . .” Hux’s voice startles you, closer than you had anticipated, and you stop for a moment, allowing him to catch his breath. He’d never been particularly empathetic when you knew him before, but damn if he wasn’t observant.

“We’re . . . we don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to hold on,” you whisper, a few traitorous tears making their way down your cheeks before you’re able to swipe them away. “I’ve been running things, so that she could rest, but . . .” you graze your teeth over your bottom lip, nibbling on it absentmindedly. There were no words for this, no way to make someone like him understand how afraid you were. How unprepared you felt. And, gods forbid, if Poe and Finn didn’t make it back, how alone you’d be. In a million lifetimes, you’d never feel ready for something like this.

His touch is cautious, as he rests his hand on your shoulder—the comforting gesture totally foreign to both of you—and so startling you have no choice but to find his eyes again.

There’s no linearity to the flood of feelings that meets you when you look at him, no kind of order or sense. You miss him; you hate him for letting you leave, for not coming with you when you begged him to. You want him to go. You need him to stay. You’re angry and you’ve already forgiven him and you want to punch him right in his perfect jaw. A small part of you wants to kiss him, but that’s the part that you bury first.

You shrug his hand from your shoulder, not totally unkindly, gesturing for him to follow again.

The makeshift medbay is empty when you arrive, as you expected, but you pull the curtain that serves as a door closed behind you anyways.

“Take a seat,” you instruct him as you gather your supplies: some fresh bandages, a pair of scissors, bacta, setting them on the low bench next to him before kneeling down to get a better look at the wound on his leg.

“Don’t you have droids for this?”

You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s nervous. His hands fidget in his lap, the tips of his gloved fingers scraping against his palms, and he jumps a little when you wrap one hand around the back of his leather boot, trying to hold him steady while you cut at the bandage.

“Med droids are expensive, and it doesn’t take a lot of training to wrap bandages,” you look up at him, hoping to see his reaction to your next words, wondering if it might teach you anything, “but I can get someone else to do it, if that would make you feel better.”

“No, that’s not necessary.” He stares resolutely at the far wall, and there’s a faint flush of pink around his hairline. You try not to let it distract you.

You make quick work of the injury on his leg, cutting off the singed material and wrapping the bandage tightly around his skin before standing again.

“I’ll need you to take this off,” you say quietly, tugging at the collar of his uniform. He nods without looking at you, and the space between you is charged as you help him shrug the garment off, the skin of his shoulders and chest turning red in response to the cool air.

You unwind the bandage, clenching your teeth in a weak attempt to steel yourself, but you think you might be sick. The smell alone is enough to make you light-headed—blood, and blaster residue and the sharp sting of antiseptic, but its the sight of the wound that turns your stomach. It’s painful just to look at, dark red and aching in the very center of his chest. Despite all your anger, you’ve never wanted him to hurt like this.

“I can do it,” he says, misinterpreting your pause, reaching for the bandages, but you catch his wrist in your hand, taking a few deep breaths through your mouth.

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching past him for the bacta and gathering a thick glob of it on your fingers, “I’m fine.”

He nods again, looking back to the wall as you press the medicine into his skin, soothing the wounded flesh without ever looking directly at it. Your eyes linger on his freckled shoulders instead, or the other scars that litter his torso—nicks and bruises and cuts. Wounds that were never given a proper chance to heal.

“The Resistance made contact with an informant aboard the Supremacy not long ago,” you say, attempting to distract yourself, “were you aware?” There’s a long pause before he nods in confirmation.

“We’ve lost contact with them recently,” you continue, swallowing to keep your voice steady, “ and were concerned that they might have been found out. Do you know if they're . . . safe?"

Damn it, your hands are shaking. There's so much you're not able to say, millions of other questions hiding within the only one you’re capable of asking.

"I believe that they are," he says quietly, and you're able to breathe again, a small weight gone from your chest.

"Good, good," you the off the bandage before you begin clearing up the supplies, "that's good news."

It's not a confirmation. It's not the answer you were hoping for. But it's something.

"Stay here. I'm going to find you something to wear." You're at the curtain when he says your name—the same way he used to say it, in nightmares and dreams. Your vision swims before you can blink away the tears.

"Everything I did," he whispers, "it was always for you."

Ficlet and headcanon requests are open 💖

[ushiwakaout]

WARNINGS: age gap, student x teacher (platonic then romantic) SPOILERS FOR MANGA CHAPTERS 280+

probably really bad spelling

Ok bitches, it’s midnight and my mind is ROLLING.

This obviously has to do with bakugo. I’m a bakugo kinny so don’t @ me plz.

I really do be thinking that he’d fall in love with his teacher. But like let me explain.

You’re one of his teachers but you aren’t a hero, 100% a vigilante bc you don’t believe in the Hero morals bc you think they are a little twisted. You’re the only teacher in UA who’s not a “real” hero, personally i think Aizawa is a vigilante bc in the beginning we see that he doesn’t like Toshinori and i think it has to do with his Hero ways.

ANYWAYS, getting out of pocket here.

After the UA festival you have a big soft spot for bakugo and midoriya (especially bkg but don’t tell deku). One day he accidentally fell asleep in class bc he’s been having nightmares and you notice. Ofc you do- he’s basically your kid smh. You don’t even bother to wake him and you threaten the ones who try, especially denki and mineta. Your quirk revolves around blood manipulation but u can make it into a physical form (i guess like elsa but w blood/ u can manipulate not just yours) So when they try to wake up bakugo you just put two scary blood creatures beside them and they threaten them for you. If class is over and he’s still asleep, deku looks a little worried but you pat his shoulders and let him know it’s okay.

not you waking him up with a blood figure bc your scared of him 😔 just a lil

he obviously wakes up startled with the blood beside him, unknown to you, it reminded him of the Sludge villain. you rush to his side and start to apologize, stroking his hair but he just slaps your hand away. He’s not used to this type of affection. “Bakugo.... Are you sleeping alright?” He obviously doesn’t crack under the first attempt and decided to leave, calling you an old hag nun the less. He’s muttering “Why should you care?” and “Mind your business old hag.” Mind you, youre only like 7 years older than he is. (Bakugo is 16, aka the oldest of the class making you 23, one of the youngest teachers too) You only stop him seconds before he’s out the door to let him know that he can talk to you when he wants to. Obviously flips u off bc he doesn’t see you like an elder like Aizawa or All Might.

The fourth time Bakugo is distracted or falls asleep, he slips up. You wake him after Iida complained to you about not waking him up, low key threaten him too- u know that he almost murdered stain 💀 shuts him right up. You stroke his hair this time, trying to be gentle and not startle him like last time. You ask if he’s okay again and that’s when he slips up, “Just nightmares n stuff...” He is NOT fully awake or conscious, so he kinda frazzled up again and we are back to our regular program of Bakugo barking in your face to mind your business. But you don’t expect him to say thank you right before he walks out the door. You’re like ????? that’s new.

It’s probably the last time bakugo falls asleep is when he starts developing a crush on you. You run your hands through his hair again and he kinda rubbed into it like a cat being pet behind the ears. Both of you are like 👁👄👁

He BOLTED. No way he had just developed a crush on his teacher. No fucking way. Try’s to distance himself from you. Doesnt sleep in you class anymore. Doesnt ask you for your help or anything. You don’t mind since it seems like he’s getting by better than he was before.

But when he gets captured by the LOV and youre at camp w aizawa as extra help and you don’t see bakugo back with the rest it’s like a piece of your heart was ripped out. ( BTW in this point in time the feelings you have for bakugo ARE NOT ROMANTIC, it’s kinda like Eri and Aizawa situation, you unintentionally took bakugo under your wing and care for him a little bit more than the rest)

You don’t sleep until you find him. You’re at the press conference and you’re blood begins to boil when they said bakugo would become a villain. You spoke over Aizawa “I can assure you that you can drop those theories and accusations of my student. Bakugo Katsuki is talented and strong willed. What you saw during the festival was a mier fragment of who he really is. He’s a good kid who wants to be the number one hero one day... he wouldn’t give that up to be a villain.”

“And how do you know this fire sure, (hero/name)”

“I know my student better than anyone.”

When you hear that Midoriya, Iida, Momo, Kirishima and Todoroki went on a rescue mission to save Bakugo- you freak out. You paced all night until All might won the battle against AFO. Shota called you in the middle of the night to let you know that Bkg was gonna be in the hospital for the night. You rushed over there and once again your blood began to boil- you overheard the converstantion with him and his mother. Her calling him weak. What kind of mother was she?

you purposely walked in, “Oh sorry... You must be the Bakugos, I’m H/N- his teacher.” Mitsuki shook your hand and so did Masaru. You guys chatted a little before they left. “Your fathers such a sweet guy... how’d he end up with your mom?” Bakugo chuckled, “Old hag basically jumped on him at work.” You two chuckled together.

A very long chat between you too happened. More on how he was feeling and how you worried about him. At this point Bakugo knew that he could confide in you... He looked down at his lap and he began to sniffle. Something you where NOT expecting. “It’s all my fault... All might lost his power because of me... Becahse i was weak.” You heart ached for him UGH. Taking his hand in his, “Bakugo you are not weak... You’re the strongest kid I know. This isn’t your fault. If anything it’s mine... I couldn’t protect you kids fast enough... I’m sorry.” Caressing his cheeks. “It’s getting late. Get some sleep bakugo.” Youre about to let go of his hands but his grip gets tighter. “Don’t make me say it old hag.” He mutters before you chuckle a little and sit back down. You fall asleep you head on the edge of his bed, still in your chair while he finally began to drift to sleep. Your hand now in his.

When he figured out Deku’s secret he has one condition. “We tell L/N”

Deku’s like ??? “You mean H/N??? But kacchan!”

“No buts deku! We tell L/N or i tell everyone.”

“All Might! Do something!”

“I trust her”

“HA! Stupid deku!”

Bakugou’s kinda excited to tell you while y’all have tea and discuss Deku’s quirk but your sipping your tea when they tell you and your like “Oh, yeah i kinda figured that out myself... You guys are really bad at hiding a secret.” Bakugo calls the irresponsible and the rest is history 💀

Also you side intern w a 1-B student Shiozaki bc y’all have manipulation quirks and he gets mad jealous 💀💀 also hates that u intern w Vlad King and hang out w Hawks WAY TOO MUch

If he’s ever around you guys and Hawks starts flirting OH MAN bakugou with start to bark.

Hawks is the first person to notice his crush and he tells you and your like “Pft BAKUGOU?? You’re crazy!” but then you low key begin to notice small things that you didn’t before and your like oh- Oh shit.... this ain’t good

“Bakugo, have lunch with me will you?”

Denki and mineta make dirty jokes and you slap both of them w your shadows before the exit class.

You’re both mid into your bento box as you just blurt it out “Do you fancy me Kacchan?” yes u intentionally call him kacchan bc he chokes on the spici bento u made him. “Oh wow... hawks was right...”

“WHAT DID THAT BIRD BRAIN TELL YOU”

“Just told me you had a crush on me... Didnt believe him until now...” You eat a little more bento and just put it down bc ur don’t like the tension in the room. “Bakugo you know nothings going to happen between us right? You’re my student and i care about you. I obviously favor you but that’s all it’s gonna be.”

“Watch your mouth old hag. I’m 18 in two years, let’s see if i don’t come back and bite you in the ass.”

you burst out laughing and he just barks at you for laughing at him. “You will not my dear bakugo. Unless you graduate top of your class, turn 21 and make an image for yourself, then we’ll talk.”

“Mmm i promise ima gonna follow you till u love me too, L/N.”

“you’re disgusting, eat your bento.”

SPOILERS FOR MANGA CHAPTER 280 and ONGOING

You’re horribly injured. Gashes and blood spilling from your wounds as you watch Midoriya fight a battle alone with Shigaraki. Bakugo is sitting you up between his legs, making sure you don’t pass out. Your blood isn’t regenerating your wounds like it usually would. Your body has its limits and you’ve almost passed them.

But when Aizawa goes out cold, Deku claims Nanas float quirk, it’s up to you and Endevor to keep everyone safe, even if your body is screaming at you to sleep and rest.

There’s a moment when you see bakugo look at you when he sees that his child hood friends is in grave danger. “Don’t... BAKUGO!” He’s already in the air and your blood whips aren’t fast enough to move them. Shigaraki is faster and pieces through his chest and abdomen... It’s like you could feel it. “NO!!BAKUGO!!!” Everyone around you can hear the horror in your voice as you push yourself up in the air w the rest of your energy and catch him in your arms before anyone else does, but your body feels limp, luckily enough Todoroki Shoto is seconds behind you and catches the both of you safely.

At this point you can’t even tell who’s blood is on your hands. “You idiot.... Damn it ... Hey, hey you’re alright, look at me Bakugo. You can’t leave me too kid.” If it weren’t for your regeneration you’d probably be passed out the way he is right now. “We’re gonna get you to safety alright.... You gotta keep your promise... as stupid as it is.”

The second your feet step into a medical, everyone is looking at the both of you in horror. You tears a falling onto him and you just look like a tired mess. “Please take him. No- No not me, him! He needs help not me, please.” The doctors are quick and they try to help you but you keep screaming that it’s bakugo that needs help and when he’s not in your arms anymore and you see him getting the help you need that’s when your body collapses into the arms of a doctor.

Once everything is over and everyone is safe. You’re the last one out of the group who wakes up, which frightens bakugo. He’s in his room and he’s nagging you at his nurse to let him see you (your legit a curtain over) but she keeps saying that you need rest and blah blah. “Let the kid in nurse.” You croak and bakugo almost falls off his bed to get to you.

he regrets his decision. you look pissed. “You could have died.” was the first thing you tell him when you see him. “Do you know how selfish that was Bakugo? You could have died in my arms? Did you even think about that-

“My body moved in it’s own...”

*silence*

“I had to do something...”

You start tearing up, “get over here you stupid pomeranian.”

After that you watch Bakugo from afar, you give up you job in UA. You felt unworthy to have that position especially when you couldn’t save your student for the second time. Sometimes bakugo calls you and ask where you are while he’s on a grocery run. “I’m a lot closer than you think Kacchan, now get home safely, it’s getting dark.” You hang up in him and follows him back to UA, making use he’s fine.

This goes on for two year until he graduates. He’s taking pictures with his friends and aizawa gives him a box. “What is this?” he shrugs. “She just dropped it off.” He walks away leaving bakugo confused.

He opens the box and it’s a picture of you and him that Toshinori may have taken while you laughed together eating your bento. Behind the picture, there’s ink w your hand writing “give it back in 3 years” and inside there’s ring hanging on a necklace, he chuckles while reading the next note “p.s i’m not proposing. i just want something else to look forward to other than your presence”

“stupid hag.” he mutters before pulling the necklace over his head and tucking it into his graduate uniform. his hand is over the necklace and you see his smile from the top of the UA roof. When he looks up, he sees you. You smile softly and disappear when he blinks- he was afaid that would happen.

the next three years go by a lot quicker than he realizes. He’s interning under the agency you created w hawks but your no where to do seen. You’re never. in office.

and when april 20th hits, it’s the first time people see you in the office in three years and you go directly to Bakugos cubicle. You place a white box in front of him and smile “Happy birthday Dynamight.” His eyes widen when he locks eyes with you. Your hair is different, you look more like a woman than you did 5 years ago. he’s speechless and u just chuckle and roll your eyes. “My necklace, Kacchan.”

“I want my birthday present first.”

“What are you talking about, the box is your present now hand over my neck-“

“that’s not what i’m talking about.”

“the what-”

all eyes are on you two when pulls you into a kiss that he’s been holding onto for five years. “This necklace is mine now, just like you are. I promised you didn’t i?”

[tealin]

Basler to the Beardmore 1: You See a Plane, You Take It

As always, the original post is up at the official blog – the formatting definitely works there, if you are having issues with it here.

When planning my research trip with the Antarctic Artists & Writers Program, I had to make a wishlist of places to visit.  One of the more important ones was the Beardmore Glacier, the route by which Scott and his men climbed from the Ross Ice Shelf (or, as they called it, the Barrier) to the Polar Plateau.  It's one of the largest glaciers in the world, but is hardly visited anymore so is rarely photographed, and despite the blessing of Google Image Search, I had too poor a sense of it to draw a journey up or down it with any confidence.

Setting foot on the Beardmore turned out be prohibitively demanding, logistically, but there are regular LC-130 flights between McMurdo Station and the Pole which traverse the Beardmore en route.  The plan we made was for me to get on one of those, and snap as much as I could from one of the small windows as we flew.

November 2019 turned out to be a terrible time for Pole flights – if the weather was OK at Pole, there was a problem with the planes, or vice versa.  However, the weather delays worked in my favour, because they affected not only Pole flights, but one particular season-opening flight, which had been bumped so many times that it still hadn't gone when I turned up. That meant I could get a seat.

The big flights ffor the USAP’s operations in East Antarctica – cargo and passenger flights on/off continent, and to major stations like Pole and WAIS Divide – are handled by the New York Air National Guard, and their fleet of enormous military airplanes, namely a C-17 and small handful of LC-130 Hercules.  There are lots of smaller trips from McMurdo to satellite stations, and these are serviced by Kenn Borek Air, a Canadian company which operates out of Calgary, Alberta.  At the start of every season, they fly their fleet of Twin Otters and Baslers down the length of North and South America, then leapfrog depots down the Peninsula and thence to various hubs including McMurdo.  From there they move people and stuff where they need to go, and also restock those fuel depots.  There was one depot flight that remained to be done, and it happened to be to a cache near the base of the Beardmore, so they agreed to take me along.

I was not the only extra job tacked on to the flight. After depoting the fuel, we were to scout out a camp in the Transantarctic Mountains which had been in regular use until a some fierce winds a few years ago had scoured great furrows in the landing strip.  Was it landable again?  What state was the camp in?  We would find out.  They also wanted to scope out a historic site that left no physical trace, to get updated intel on its condition.  Then we would fly north again via the Beardmore and the coordinates for One Ton Depot.

As soon as the Basler had finished her more pressing engagements, we were put on alert for the depot run.  Everything in Antarctica is weather-dependent, and that can change on a dime, so one is always on standby.  Because they needed to make the most of the Basler's time, they would put two missions on for any given day, then the one with the best prospects would be activated.  For five days I was ready to go – breakfasted, fully suited up, lunch packed, ECW bag to hand – at 7 a.m., in case my flight was the one that was going.  Flight status would be announced on the screens at the entrance to the Galley.

For four mornings I joined the poor Thwaites Glacier team anxiously hanging on the screens – they were trying to get out to WAIS Divide (the high point of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet, from which they would catch a flight to the Thwaites camp) where the weather had been abominable for a month.  One of those mornings my flight was activated and I got all the way out to the airfield only for it to be called off at the last minute because of a change in forecast for the depot site.  But finally, the fifth morning, it was all systems go!

There are two airfields that serve McMurdo: Phoenix, which is designed to take the massive C-17s on a packed snow runway where they can land with wheels, and Williams Field, of groomed snow, for ski'd aircraft.  The extra special thing about Williams Field is that it's more or less where Scott's 'Safety Camp' was located – so named because it was far enough onto the ice shelf not to break up and float out to sea – so the view to Ross Island from there would have been very familiar to our explorers.  On the day of my false start, while waiting to find out that the plane wasn't going after all, I got to take some good pictures of the view from there.  It was also a good day to get a sense of the 'bad light' that obliterated contrast on the snow and made navigation difficult:

The Sea Ice Incident took place between us and the conical hill to the left!  Wild!

Anyway, Try no. 5 was on a much nicer day.  Here is the magnificent bird with her spanking new paint job:

It was a funny experience – I mean, besides sharing the fuselage with many hundreds of gallons of flammable liquid – in that it was an island of Canada amidst all the Americans. The crew all lived in BC when they weren't in Antarctica, and next to my seat were the usual set of flight safety brochures, in English and French, just as if we were flying out of Calgary.

Our pilot was named Steve, and I learned from him that, if you're training to be a pilot in Canada, you have to do your qualifying hours in the North.  Most people put in their time and then get a comfortable job flying passengers between major southern cities, but Steve liked the North so much he stayed and stayed, until he got the job with Kenn Borek and ended up South.  As much as I feel obliged to make a facetious quip about my flammable fellow passengers, I can honestly say I have never felt safer in an airplane than this one.  This was just as well, as one of the first things we did once we were in the air was rather exciting.

The Basler is a workhorse, and one of the Antarctic planes (though I never found out if it was this one) had actually flown in WWII – they just keep going and going.  However, the hydraulics that lift the landing gear were designed to lift just the landing gear, not the landing gear plus 650-pound skis, so in order to get them up we had to lose some weight.  And we did this by climbing steeply up and then nose-diving, bringing us temporarily closer to zero G.  We had to do this every time we took off, and it took 2-3 goes to get the skis up successfully.  You'd expect someone with a history of nervous flying and a sensitivity to motion sickness to find this unpleasant, but it was just plain awesome.

This post is getting long already, so I will describe our errands in detail over the next two posts.  I really must take the time here, though, to give my regards to Kenn Borek Air. I don't think anyone in Canada knows how absolutely vital they are to everything that gets done in Antarctica; their vermillion planes keep camps supplied and people moving around, and are the everyday lifeblood of the continent, in the most literal circulatory sense.  Steve and the Basler may possibly have saved the Thwaites Glacier project this season – after a month of delays getting people and freight out to the field camps, it was reaching a point where they might have called off the massive international project for this year.  But they allocated the Basler to the WAIS flights and Steve landed it in conditions that the NYANG wouldn't – the Basler couldn't fly nearly as much cargo as a Herc, but they got enough out there that some work could begin.  I haven't seen this mentioned in any of the Thwaites coverage and I'm sure it hasn't been covered in Canada, but for a country that doesn't even have a national Antarctic program, they should be mighty proud of the central role their people play in making other countries' programs happen.

[bloodpacks-archive]

Until We Meet Again

word count: 4.7k oops

summary: Cassian Andor fell in love once. He never said goodbye.

warnings: uhhh this is rogue one so uh. fluffy and then. and then. well. u know.

note: hi i made myself cry with this fic so i hope you enjoy it bc it is Sad but also lovely at some points and I- yeah. also this is my first time writing cassian so please don’t murder me if he seems off. i also don’t even know if people really write Cassian x reader shit but i don’t really care because I wrote this today and now it’s here

Cassian didn’t like goodbyes. Maybe he was superstitious, or just freaked out, but he never thought goodbyes were a good thing in the rebellion. Goodbyes meant an end, and he wanted a promise of a next time, so he never said goodbye.

When he met her, he was on a mission on Coruscant. He was supposed to meet another Rebel spy here, and in order to keep communications and suspicions down to a minimum, he wasn’t given her name.

He didn’t really understand the order, but Draven had made it clear. He would know when he saw her.

Cassian had never been the biggest fan of Coruscant. It was a bit too crowded for him. He liked the peaceful nature of Yavin 4, it was a nice break from the chaos that came with being a spy.

The one advantage to Coruscant was just how easy it was to blend in. He was given a location, he assumed it was a cantina, just based on Draven’s affinity to them as meeting spaces, and started looking.

The cantina was surprisingly calm. His eyes scanned the room. There were a few Twi’leks standing off in a corner, quietly talking to themselves. They weren’t glancing around the room and they didn’t seem skittish, so Cassian quickly dismissed them. He continued to scan, and then his eyes met hers, for just a moment. She was sipping on a drink, looking at him from over the rim of the glass. Something flashed in her eyes, familiarity, curiosity, he couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it made him feel like she was the one he was supposed to meet.

When he walked over to the table, he said a quick verification code, and when she replied with the correct response, Cassian had to hold back a smile. He slid into the booth across from her, leaning forward onto the table as he spoke.

“So what are we doing here?” He asked. The girl raised an eyebrow at him.

“Did they not tell you?”

“I only know this location. They told me the rest was up to you. I don’t even know your name.”

She leaned back in the booth, letting her head fall to the side as she scanned Cassian up and down. He noticed how one of her hands lingered by her side, just above the hem of her jacket, and he raised his eyebrows at her, and then leaned in, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

“If you pull out your blaster, that’s gonna be a lot more paperwork than either of us want. Trust me, I know this looks suspicious that I don’t know anything, but the General told me it was to keep suspicions low. I was given the location and I knew the verification code. I can’t offer you anything else.”

It was then that her hand finally moved away from where he assumed her blaster was sitting. And now she was smiling, just faintly there, while she moved in closer to Cassian. He watched as she leaned forward on the table, leaving them maybe just a few inches more than a foot apart.

“Alright,” She whispered, “I’ll give you the rundown.”

—————

Their mission was to find a rebel who had been captured by the Empire. They were keeping him on Coruscant until he could be transported, which would be happening tomorrow. She had the location, she had an idea of who the rebel was, and she had a plan. The test was just getting in and out with minimal damage.

They went in at night, when the underground prison-camp would be at its emptiest. They were quiet, shuffling around and hiding behind walls whenever they thought they heard the familiar sounds of stormtrooper armor.

They turned a corner, and there he was. The rebel was sitting in the corner of his cell, hands tied behind him and head hanging at an awkward angle. Cassian kneeled down, going to pick the lock while the girl—whose name he still didn’t know—stood watch.

Finally, the lock clicked open, and Cassian quickly went into the room, kneeling down in front of the rebel prisoner.

“Hey, hey, we’re here to help you,” He whispered. The prisoner’s eyes slowly opened, he blinked a few times, and then his eyes looked over Cassian, before widening in realization.

“Captain Andor?” He whispered, his voice hoarse and weak. It was then that Cassian finally took a look at the prisoner, finally got a chance to see him from under the dirt and dried blood.

“Barid?”

“Now’s not really the time for a reunion, we have to go,” The girl whispered from just outside the cell. Cassian heard stormtroopers coming down the hallway, and quickly untied Barid and got him to his feet.

Barid hung onto Cassian, limping as he walked, and they both made their way down the hallway, following the fellow rebel spy through the corridors.

Suddenly, she turned, hiding behind a notch in the wall and pulled her blaster up. Cassian followed in suit, pulling Barid with him.

“Who’s there?” They heard, and then a stormtrooper turned the corner. Cassian held his breath, just listening as the stormtrooper came closer and closer.

And then he heard blaster fire. He turned out of hiding, his own blaster at the ready, and was met with the stormtrooper laying on the ground, the girl standing over him.

“We should go,” She said quickly, and they ran. Cassian held Barid close to him, hoping that by pure adrenaline Barid would be able to run just a bit faster than he was. Cassian saw a stormtrooper out of the corner of his eye and quickly turned to fire a few shots at him, and then they were out. Coming out of the underground bunker and into the brightness of the Coruscant lights.

“You got a ship?” The girl asked as they made their way through the streets of Coruscant, trying to blend in once again.

“What happened to yours?”

“There was,” She paused, “An issue?”

“That sounds like a lot of fun paperwork,” Barid chimed in. He was starting to walk a bit more normally, and was able to keep up with the other two, but he still had a bit of a limp. It was starting to make Cassian worry.

“The point is,” The girl said, giving a bit of a dirty look to Barid while he laughed, “mind if I get a ride?”

Cassian hummed, like he was thinking for just a moment, before answering.

“On one condition,” He said.

She groaned, rolling her eyes at him.

“You have to tell me your name.”

So when they got to the ship, he helped Barid on, guiding him to a chair so he could finally sit, and then he turned to the still-mystery-girl.

“So?” He asked. And she just sighed, taking a seat in the co-pilot’s chair while Cassian started the ship up.

And then she said her name. A bright, beautiful name, that seemed to fit her perfectly. And Cassian just repeated it, nodding his head a bit before he finally took off, sending them into Hyperspace.

—————

They were back on base around half a day later, and when they arrived, Barid was met with hugs from friends before being lead down to the med-bay.

She stood next to Cassian, arms crossed, watching the people run around the hangar with a bit of joy in her eyes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been back,” She said. Cassian watched her gaze, but it seemed to flit around everywhere, like she was taking it all in at once.

“Well, welcome back.” Cassian started to move off the ship, but then he turned around, taking one last glance at her. “I’ll see you around.”

—————

The next time he saw her, it was at the mission debriefing. Draven had given them an hour to settle back in, especially since she hadn’t been on base for so long, before getting them back to business.

She handed Draven the data pad she had been filling out the whole way back, and Cassian noticed how she cringed a bit when she informed the General about her ship. Draven just waved it off, reading through the report and deciding that, based on the circumstances reported, it was unavoidable.

When they left the General’s office, she stood against the wall, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

“You okay?” Cassian asked, his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I’m fine just-“ She paused, taking a breath, before opening her eyes and looking at him, “It’s been a while, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Cassian paused for a moment, silence settling between them as she closed her eyes again. “Do you wanna grab something to eat?”

She looked up at him, eyes just a bit brighter then before, and smiled.

“Yeah, yeah I’d like that.”

And over the next few days, that became a tradition. They would see each other in the halls, and Cassian would ask if she had eaten yet, and she would almost always say no, so they went and they had lunch together.

Eventually, they started spending more of the day together as well. It had started with him walking her back to his quarters, and then she decided to come back to his quarters to work on some reports, until it eventually came to her knocking on Cassian’s door randomly throughout the day, just to sit by him while they both read.

So during those moments, where they’re between missions, they take every second they can get.

It’s during one of those days, when she’s filling out a report on her data pad from a mission she just went on, and Cassian’s looking over the intel he’s been given from informants, when Kay walks into the room.

“General Draven has requested both of you to his office.” Kay walks into the room, and then glances over what Cassian is looking at. “Based on that intel, I’d say there’s a 72% chance it has to do with that.”

Cassian closes out the data pad. “Thanks Kay,” He says, and then he looks over at where she’s sitting, still focused on her report as she starts to stand. “C’mon, we should go.”

And so she nods, finally setting her data pad down to go follow Cassian and Kay towards the General’s office.

When they arrive, the General is looking over his own data pad, his brows are furrowed together, and he’s rubbing a spot on his wrist. That’s a mannerism Cassian’s learned to be wary of.

“I’m guessing you saw the Intel from Kashyyyk?” Cassian says, finally speaking up. Draven nods, finally glancing up towards the two of them.

“I need the two of you to go to Kashyyyk, bring K-2SO, he might help you blend in.”

“Kashyyyk? It’s hell over there. Why would we go there?” Both Cassian and the General turned to Y/n. Her eyes were flitting between them, she was analyzing the interaction, trying to find some reason.

“We have reason to believe Saw Gerrera was there recently. Any intel you can bring back will be useful.” The General pauses, watching over the two of them for a moment. “Lieutenant,” He says, turning to her. It takes Cassian by surprise, he hasn’t heard anyone call her Lieutenant since they’ve come back from Coruscant. Based on the way she shifts, a bit uncomfortably, she isn’t a fan of the formality.

“Yes, General?”

“I’ll need you to gather as much intel as you can from your informants down there. We haven’t heard much from them in a while, so we don’t know much about the state of Kashyyyk.”

“I’ll get right on that,” She replies. She’s already pulling out her data pad, scrolling through her files when Draven turns to Cassian.

“Captain, I’ll need you to go down first. Communications will be at a minimum. We’ll send you in an Imperial ship with an Imperial uniform, and Kay will be with you. After a week, we’ll send the Lieutenant. You are just trying to find Gerrera. If a week after Y/n arrives you still haven’t found him or any intel on his whereabouts, you leave. We cannot risk you two being down there for any longer.”

“Understood, General.”

“You leave tonight.”

With that, they left the General’s office and went to their separate quarters to start preparing, which in Cassian’s case, meant packing. Kay was talking his ear off, saying something about how he’d never been on Kashyyyk, and how Wookies had a “54% chance of tearing your arms off at any moment” which, Cassian was sure must have been a glitch in Kay’s programming.

Cassian liked Wookies. But with the enslavement, he thought maybe the statistic was right. If his entire world was enslaved to the Empire, he thinks he’d have around the same statistic too.

He was just about to finish packing when he heard a soft knock at his door.

“Come in!” He’d yelled, and he heard the sliding of the door opening. When he turned back, she was standing there, looking a bit worried.

“You nervous?” She moved to where Cassian was kneeling in front of his bag, and sat down next to him. Her head leaned onto his shoulder, just staring down at the bag in front of them.

It was interesting. She was hell on the battlefield. Unconcerned and unapologetic. But here, in Cassian’s quarters, she seemed almost scared.

“No,” Cassian replied. He laid his head on top of hers, and the two of them sat there for just a moment, the silence between them. “Are you?”

He felt her sigh, “A bit? Kashyyyk, it’s- it’s hell over there right now. I was contacting a few of my informants and-“ She paused, “I can’t even imagine.”

Cassian nudged her a bit, making a small smile appear on her face.

“Hey,” He said, “That’s the great thing about the Rebellion. Everything we do is bringing people like them one step closer to freedom.”

“You’re right.” She moved away, sitting up and straightening herself out a bit.

“Cassian,” Kay said from behind them. He had gone on a quick run to fix up one of his drives. “I hate to break up the moment, but I’m afraid we have to leave.”

So Cassian rose, sighing a bit as he stood, and offered her a hand to stand up with him.

“See you in a week?” Cassian said, just the beginnings of a smile on his face.

“See you in a week.” She replied.

—————

He missed her. It was really odd, because they’d been apart before and it hadn’t been a big deal, but he missed her. Even with Kay by his side, he felt alone on Kashyyyk. Hiding out as an Imperial Officer was awful. He tried getting intel on where Saw Gererra would be, but nothing came up.

No one knew where he was.

He figured he was forgetting something, so he just waited for her to arrive. She’d have a better idea of how to look, he was sure of it.

And that week, it gave him a lot of time to think. Cassian sat in his Imperial quarters, laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling while Kay sat on the floor and leaned against the wall.

“What do you think?” He asked. And Kay just looked up from what he was doing, tilting his head at Cassian.

“About what?”

“You know,” Cassian paused.

“I do not know.”

“Y/n. What do you think about her?” Cassian asked finally.

“I like her. She listens to me and she think I’m funny. Unlike someone.”

“The listening part or the funny part?”

“Both.”

Cassian laughed, sitting up in his bed and leaning his head forward in his hands.

“Why do you ask?” Kay said.

“I don’t know Kay, I just-“

“Do you like her?”

“Kay-“

“You know if you two end up together she could convince you that not only am I always right but I’m also funny.”

“You’re annoying,” Cassian replied, finally looking up at Kay.

“And funny.”

—————

It was a few days later when she arrived on Kashyyyk. She came into his quarters, and suddenly it felt like everything turned upside-down.

Is it weird how much he wanted to pull her into his arms?

But he brushed it off, and they went on through the week, trying to find more clues to where Gererra would be.

The week was cut short.

Around four days after she arrived, someone was alerted of their presence. Thankfully, Cassian had managed to intercept communications between stormtroopers and became aware of the situation before it was too late.

They were in their quarters when they realized, and it wasn’t long before all three of them were running out of the base.

They turned a corner, and there stood a group of stormtroopers, most likely heading towards their quarters.

“There! Intruders!” One of them shouted, and the three of them hid behind different notches in the corridors, hoping they would be enough cover.

Blaster fire flew by Cassian’s head, he heard orders being shouted out, and Kay was peaking out from behind cover to blast the troopers ahead of them.

Cassian managed to grab a hold of his blaster without getting shot, and started doing the same.

“Hey, maybe this is a bad time,” Cassian started, a bit out of breath from the running and the hiding, “but I kind of need to tell you something.” He heard Kay from behind him.

“Cassian, I don’t think this is a good time. There’s an 80% chance of-“

“I don’t wanna know, Kay!” Cassian shouted back at the droid. He heard Kay groan, but Cassian just ignored it.

“Is this the best time?” She asked from beside him. He watched as she peaked out and shot a stormtrooper, knocking him to the ground.

“Can you think of a better one?” He replied. She glanced at him and then at the thinning crowd of troopers. There were still too many.

“Alright, shoot,” She said.

“Kind of already doing that.” Cassian winked at her and then leaned out to shoot down another trooper. Eight left.

She cast a glare his way.

“You know what I meant!”

Cassian peaked out again, shooting once before just dodging blasting fire. Six.

“Okay well, I really missed you during that week, and it made me start thinking-“ Pause. Fire. Five. “That I don’t want to just be friends.” Fire. Four.

“What?”

Three more shots. One.

“He’s saying he likes you,” Kay finally said, coming out of his spot to fire at the last trooper.

“Yeah,” Cassian said, trying to catch his breath, “what he said.”

Her eyes flitted over his face, for just a moment, trying to take in every detail. But soon enough, Kay was running past them.

“We should go,” Cassian said, and he grabbed her hand, pulling her along and to their ship.

—————

The ride back to Yavin 4 is peaceful. Thankfully, they’d managed to gun down anyone who tried to follow them, and Kay made sure there were no trackers on the ship.

The ship is surprisingly quiet. Kay had retreated to the back, deciding to run some diagnostics, and while Cassian was sitting in the pilot’s chair, making sure everything was going smoothly, she was sitting next to him in the co-pilot’s filling out her usual reports.

Nothing seemed awkward, but she still wasn’t talking to him, and that made him irrationally nervous. Even if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, he liked having her as a friend. He didn’t want that to change.

“Cassian?” She said, her voice quiet, but enough to break the silence. He looked over at her, and she had her head tilted to the side, just enough so it was resting against the back of her chair as she turned to look at him.

Cassian hummed in response.

“Did you really mean what you said back there?”

She seemed timid, and once again, he found himself shocked at the difference between on and off the battlefield. Her confidence almost faded away.

“Yeah, of course I did,” He replied. He noticed the way her lips began to quirk up into a smile.

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

She let out a sigh, closing her eyes a bit as she leaned back against her chair. And then she smiled. That perfect, bright smile.

“And here I was thinking I was going to have to tell you first,” She said finally, and Cassian laughed, leaning over to push her playfully.

And then their laughter filled the cabin, and all was well. She rose from her seat, putting the data pad to the side as she came to stand next to him. She leaned onto the back of his chair, and he grabbed her hand, lightly pressing his lips to the back of her hand.

She leaned down to kiss his temple, and all seemed well.

—————

They’d been together for ten months, and they’d been through a lot. Cassian getting injured probably too many times to count, her yelling at him, her disappearing for a few weeks for a mission. It was endless.

They spent a lot of time apart. So when they had time together, they made the most of it.

She had moved her stuff to his quarters a while ago, and now she spent every night she was at the base in his quarters.

This night was one of the lucky nights when they were both there. It wasn’t quite late enough that they should’ve been sleeping, but enough so that most of the other people on base were already in their quarters and getting ready for bed.

It was quiet, just the sound of their voices and the usual hum of the base their only noise.

Cassian had his arms wrapped around her, humming quietly in her ear as they both laid in the dark.

“Cassian?” She whispered. Her voice was soft, just barely there, but it was all he needed. “When this is all done, where do you want to go?”

He pressed his lips to her temple.

“Wherever you want to go, my love,” He whispered. Her laughter filled the room as she turned in his arms, finally face-to-face with him.

“Really, Cassian, where should we go when this is over?”

And he thought for a while, because he wasn’t really sure where. The Rebellion had been his home for so long. He couldn’t imagine calling another place home.

“I like Alderaan,” He answered, finally.

“Alderaan it is then,” She whispered, before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

And that was all he could have asked for. He had hope. Hope for something when all this was done. He had her, and she made him ridiculously happy, in ways that he couldn’t even explain, and that was all he had ever wanted. All he had ever asked for. And she was here. Right in front of him. He would never have to say goodbye to that, she would always be by his side.

“We could get married,” She whispered again, her eyes fluttering shut.

“That sounds like a dream, my love,” He whispered back. She opened her eyes, narrowing them at him.

“What’s with all the ‘my love’ stuff?” She asked. Cassian simply laughed, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“It’s just what you are.”

And he isn’t sure what makes him do it, what makes him reach over to his bedside table, and grab the chain out of the drawer, but he does. It’s just a simple chain, and on it is a ring. One that he’d bought when he was younger, hoping that maybe he could put it to use. He had mostly forgotten about it until now, but he can’t imagine a more perfect moment.

“As a reminder,” He starts, placing the chain in her hands, “of our life after.”

—————

Cassian doesn’t like goodbyes. He never says them, because he never thinks saying goodbye will turn out well. Saying goodbye is admitting the end, and he’s never been ready for that. So he doesn’t say goodbye.

He’s about to leave with Jyn, and Bodhi, and Chirrut, and everyone else for Scarif when he runs into her on the tarmac.

“Cassian what- where are you going?” Her hands flit over him, before finally stilling, going to press her thumb to the cut at the top of his head, resting one hand on his shoulder. Her brows are furrowed, and she looks terrified.

“My love, I’ll be back, I promise.”

“Cassian I haven’t seen you for days,” Her eyes fill with tears, and then her hands go up to cup his face. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to save the Rebellion. I’ll be back, okay? We’ll all be back.” He notices her hand fall down to the chain around her neck, and he grabs that hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Remember our after, okay?” She asks.

Something tells him to pull her in, and so he does. He holds her, and she’s got her arms wrapped around him so tightly he isn’t sure that she’ll ever let go.

“I’ll see you later,” He says. And then he pulls away, taking one last glance at her.

She nods, still playing with the ring around her neck.

“Go save the Rebellion.”

As he turns back, he mouths an “I love you,” he notices she does the same.

—————

Cassian had never thought about an afterlife. With all the death he’d seen, you’d think he had. But he never had time for it. Now, with the threat so close to him, it was all he could think about. Were the men he had killed sent to an afterlife of happiness? Were the innocent men killed here on Scarif going to be sent somewhere warm? Somewhere they could be happy? With all the destruction, all the pain he’d caused in his life to get to this final sacrifice, would he join them?

Or was the only thing waiting for him oblivion? Was that all he had?

He wasn’t sure what he would feel like in these final moments, but as he and Jyn limped to the shore, to a place of beauty in all this terror, all he felt was warmth. It wasn’t happiness, he wasn’t sure he would ever describe it as that, but it was fulfillment. They’d succeeded. They’d gotten the message out. Someone would hear.

When they finally sat down on the sand, all he could think of was her. His mind drifted. Every moment of her laughter, every second of her smile, every time she said hello. And he never said goodbye.

He still wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing. If the goodbye would have made this any less painful for either of them. He couldn’t be sure. But as the light grew, as he held onto Jyn as tightly as he could, imagining it was her, he just knew he wanted nothing more than to see her one last time.

He took a breath.

It was warm, the light. He could feel it getting closer. He felt every second as it passed, felt them as if they were stretching into hours.

And all he could think of was her.

He thought about his promise of after. His promise that he’d be back. He wished he could have that life on Alderaan. Wished he could have a house with her, wished he would get to see her walk down an aisle.

The heat grew stronger, still.

Cassian wondered if she wanted kids. What they might’ve looked like if they’d ever gotten the chance.

Warmer.

Soon enough, it was almost too much for Cassian to take. He gripped Jyn tighter. He was scared. And then he could feel the light, feel it all around him, see it through his closed eyes.

Until we meet again, my love.

Cassian Andor took his final breath, hoping to see her again.

I don’t know if I’ll write more Cassian or not?? But I don’t have a taglist for it so I’m just kinda winging it but I do know @anxieteandbiscuits​ asked me if I’d ever write Cassian and.... girl look.... i’ve done it big r.i.p though

[housemartius]

i’ve had an hc that dakota is native american for a long time now, and after reading this awesome post i was inspired and like “what if he and piper were cousins??” so let me share some things i’ve imagined about them so far (warning: this is one long ass post):

- they were both born and raised in tahlequah, oklahoma (not in a reservation tho bc there’s no cherokee reservation in oklahoma, rick’s an idiot who doesn’t research anything)

- dakota is two years older than piper and that made him a bit overprotective of her while growing up. even when they were kids, piper got a lot of attention from mostly other boys (which would later make her feel super self conscious of her own looks) and dakota would pick up on her discomfort and shoo away all of them in an instant

- like seriously, he’s a pretty observant kid and piper would always flinch when a boy got too close for comfort. so dakota was always more than ready to help her out

- imagine how overjoyed grandpa tom was when he found out he was going to be a grandpa, twice, in such a short span of time. dakota had barely just turned 1 year old when tristan announces the woman he’s dating is pregnant tom cried so much, bless him

- now grandpa is no fool though. he knew something was up with the ppl his children were dating, he knew they weren’t ordinary folks. and he suspected his future grandchildren wouldn’t be exactly ordinary either. and how right he was

- just a few months after he was born in september 1992, baby dakota was taken on a little trip with his mom and grandfather around tulsa and they came across a huge vineyard

- it’s january and it’s hecking cold (like 50ºF/10ºC) and the vines, as you’d expect, are basically dead. that’s when something remarkable happens: the plants start to reach out towards dakota and the closer he is to them, the livelier they get

- grandpa is shocked to say the least but he plays it cool. he just turns towards his daughter and calmly asks “care to explain please” to which she then proceeds to spill the beans about how she met the roman god of wine whose son is currently being held by grandpa tom

- tom is really surprised that his daughter dated an actual immortal deity from ancient times, or that they even exist at all (he thought greek myths, and therefore roman by extension, were a bunch of bull). yet at the same time he’d been suspecting the dude wasn’t completely human for a while now...

- in the end he happily accepts both his daughter’s love for bacchus (if that’s even who he really is) and the son they had, and never loves dakota any less even now that he knows he’s a demigod

- except they don’t tell tristan bc 1. bacchus told dakota’s mom to keep it a secret (whoops), 2. tristan’s a skeptic who doesn’t believe in any kind of myths so what’s the point and 3. tristan’s sweetheart is pretty high guard about her own identity and grandpa’s noticed this and he thinks she’s hiding the truth from his son for a good reason (again, he is such a skeptical man, he’d probably think they were all insane)

- april 1994. piper is born and an almost 2 y/o dakota is finally introduced to the cousin he’d been hearing so much about

- both love their grandfather and listening to stories about their culture. and grandpa loves that his grand-kids are so keen on learning

- they live a pretty happy childhood overall. apart from dakota’s innate abilities to making vines grow whenever he walks by (though he remains oblivious to this bc his mom goes to great efforts to ensure he doesn’t find out so soon, he’s still a little kid after all), none of his other powers manifest all that much when he’s a toddler. and neither do piper’s

- ofc, being demigods they’re constantly exposed to the danger of being discovered by monsters but they luck out and continue living in ignorant bliss of their godly parentage

- they love being outside. playing, napping, talking, whatever it is, they don’t like being indoors. they’re always running around everywhere, climbing trees, rolling around in the grass, etc it’s a very rare occurrence when they manage to return home with clean clothes

- they just have a looot of energy and they like using it. getting them to calm down is a challenge in itself, they’re always goofing around. whether they’re having a nice family dinner (food fights tend to occur more often than not), or watching cartoons before bedtime (reenacting cool fight scenes is a must!)

- but then one day, just a few weeks after his 8th birthday, dakota shows up at tristan’s house with his mom and she says she needs to talk with his uncle and grandfather

- the kids are told to go play for a little while in the backyard to let the grown ups have some privacy

- dakota is uncharacteristically quiet. piper notices it right away, how her cousin’s shoulders are slacked and his eyebrows furrowed in distress. she asks what’s wrong, what happened to make him so sad

- “i have to move away” he says. piper is shocked, starts asking why. why, where to, and can’t the whole family go with him?

- “no. just me. somewhere far away”. “but why?!”. “because it’ll be bad if i don’t”

- the rest of the day goes by in a blur. piper can’t understand what’s happening. why does dakota have to go all alone? why can’t her aunt go too? why don’t her dad or her grandfather try to stop them?

(- later, when piper demands her dad for explanations, tristan only says what his sister told him: that dakota needs to go somewhere that’ll be better for him, that piper’s aunt can’t take care of him by herself. grandpa tom tells her the same thing whenever piper turns to him but he knows. his daughter told him the truth)

- saying goodbye is the only moment that seems to last an eternity though. piper is full on crying and sobbing, holding on to dakota with all her strength and begging her cousin to stay, stay and everything will be okay bc he’ll be with her and all the people who love him

- dakota cries too, though not as hard. he’s barely keeping it together but he’s the older cousin and he needs to be strong for piper

- inside though he’s terrified of what’s happening to him. to him and to his mom and now his dear little cousin and his uncle and grandpa. he wants to stay but bacchus was clear during his sudden unexpected visit: he needs to go to the wolf house right away

- his mom takes him there. this goodbye is even more terrible than the previous one. in the midst of all the crying he promises that he’ll be okay, that he loves her and will visit as soon as he can

- dakota hadn’t had the fortune (or permission) of visiting his mom and granddad back in tahlequah often. and the few times he had managed, piper had been away with her dad on his trips looking for a job as an actor in los angeles

- one day, now 13 y/o, he was at his mom’s place with his grandfather too, just sitting and talking and enjoying each other’s company when they decided it was time to tell him the horrible news: his grandpa had been diagnosed with lung cancer

- tom reassured him all throughout his grandson’s hysterics that he felt fine and that he was at peace with the situation

- and then dakota asked the dreaded question

- “... how long?”

- “... soon”

- when dakota made it back to camp he started asking around for possible cures, talking with praetors and centurions and just about anyone who might help him

- though in the end he didn’t find any medicine that could possibly save his grandfather

- and it’s not like the romans really cared for helping outsiders either

- the day he got the news grandpa tom had passed away, just a little over 2 months later, he refused to leave his bunk bed for the remainder of it and it took his two centurions to force him out of it the next morning

(- dakota swears that, out of all the days he’d felt the most lonely and in need of the warm comfort of his family, that had been the most painful one he’d endured in his whole life)

(- he also wondered if piper had known about their grandfather’s condition, and for one moment he actually hoped she didn’t just so she could be spared of going through the same despair he and the rest of their family had)

(- he’d also wished, more ardently than ever before, to be able to hug his beloved little cousin again just like he had so many times years before)

- fast forward to 2010. dakota is standing with the rest of the romans at cj, staring at a greek ship that quickly approaches camp

- his long time friend jason is said to be on board and dakota is just dying to give the dude the longest and most bone crushing hug ever

- plot twist: it’s piper who gets the pleasure of receiving the longest and most bone crushing hug ever. but she returns it tenfold rip dakota’s back

- their reunion was a hazard mix of tears, laughter and wrestling. he and jason happily gave piper a tour of the camp, though tbh she didn’t really pay attention to much, catching up with her fave cousin was obviously the priority

- during her quest to save the world, she iris messages dakota as regularly as she can and they talk for hours on end, sharing stories from their past, their family, their beloved grandpa tom whom they missed terribly every single day, everything really

- piper confides in him how much her dad’s lack of interest and pride for cherokee culture has rocked her own, how growing up with him so absent from her life and so worried with rejecting everything cherokee/native american related had made her feel so uncomfortable in her own skin

- dakota takes all this in silence and just lets her get it all out. he hears her every complaint and insecurity and fear. then he starts telling her the stories their grandfather had told them

- he tells at least 2 different ones every night they talk, always with a smile on his face, always trying to replicate the exact same tone and pace their granddad used

- and it eventually gets piper to smile too

- one night it’s dakota who confesses how much he regrets not visiting tahlequah more often, how he wishes he’d spent more time with thomas before he’d passed away, how he wished he’d been with him during those last few days if not to just hear him going on and on about cherokee myths like he loved to

- that gets piper crying in no time. dakota cries too. they just spend a good 10 minutes sobbing together through their reflections in the watery rainbow, neither saying much

- “i’m glad he told us. the stories i mean”, dakota says when they’ve calmed down. “feels like he gave us little pieces of himself bit by bit that’ll never go away”

- “yeah... it really does” 

- when the war’s finally over, piper and dakota visit each other often, though piper’s the one who goes to cj more often since dakota’s a centurion and has his plate full most of the time

- they’re still as goofy and energetic around each other as ever, like the time they spent away from each other was like clicking pause on a movie and now they’ve hit play and continued on from there

- still hate being trapped indoors. when there’s camp meetings they both need to attend they just can’t help but joke around. everyone else dreads going to those now thanks to these idiots

- dakota isn’t as chaotic as piper so he somewhat helps to keep that side of her in check

- when leo accompanies her during her visits though... no point in even trying to hold back this Mess, dakota’s tried before and it was the most stressful and tiring day of his fucking life

- piper constantly teases dakota about his crush on her half-brother michael. he very much regrets the day she ever saw how he acted around the son of venus (a blushy neck scratching mess)

- wow this is getting long fhdkds anyway!! they’re amazing kids who love each other to death and constantly support each other through good and bad times, and they’re proud af to be cherokee and they’ll treasure their beloved grandpa tom and his teachings till the end of their lives, and if anyone ever wants to hear a story, they’re the right kids to go to!

[impractical-matters]

Tag Game: Dig a Little Deeper

tagged by @mollyweasly - thank you steph!! 💕💕

1. do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen? both

2. would you prefer to live in the country or in the city? country

3. if you could learn a new skill, what would it be? I’ve always wanted to learn to drive stick/manual

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? both, and yes

5. what was your favorite book as a child? I always loved, The Very Lonely Firefly by Eric Carle

6. do you prefer baths or showers? I love both, but I like to unwind in the tub whenever possible

7. if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? An elemental witch

8. paper or electronic books? paper, always, unless it’s fanfiction 

9. what is your favorite item of clothing? I have a couple plaid shirts that were my grandfather’s that I love

10. do you like your name? would you like to change it? My mother chose my name and it’s spelling because it was her favorite, and I have always liked it. 

11. who is a mentor to you? I have some successful psychologists/psychiatrists in my family who I really admire and would like to follow in their footsteps

12. would you like to be famous? if so, what for? I think we’ve all imagined what it would be like, I did some singing competitions and it was scary but it was also really nice to be recognized afterwards and complimented, but then again celebrities have zero privacy, so I don’t think I would be able to combat that. You have to be seriously dedicated to your craft to be willing to put up with the whole world, and I think I’m a bit too shy for all that...

13. are you a restless sleeper? When I was in camp, I had the nickname ‘sleeping beauty’ because I always slept flat on my back and never moved. That was when I had no stress in my life tho, so nowadays it’s a bit rougher sometimes. 

14. do you consider yourself to be a romantic person? I like to think so, but I haven’t had anyone to express that with recently

15. which element best represents you? I can see how they all play a part for me, but I think fire might be the most appropriate 

16. who do you want to be closer to? my friends, this quarantine has been hard on all of us

17. do you miss someone at the moment? my brother (oops, brothers I mean haha) 

18. tell us about an early childhood memory. there was a swingset in my backyard that faced my mother’s office, and in the summer when I had off from school, I would sometimes go out there and swing for hours, waving at her and just trying to catch her attention. I also spent a lot of time “rock hunting” in the backyard, which was just me digging for pretty rocks, mostly quartz

19. what is the strangest thing you have eaten? honestly I don’t think I’ve eaten that many weird things, religion kinda gets in the way of that. I did try a raw quails egg once

20. what are you most thankful for? my family and their continuous support 

21. do you like spicy food? I like some spicy foods, like Japanese and Korean, and sometimes Mexican, but I gotta be careful with those peppers 

22. have you ever met someone famous? yes, i met Matthew McConaughey outside a bathroom in JFK, I met Chris Allen in Disney World, and my friends cousin is Ricky Ullman, so I saw him around a few times for family events. 

23. do you keep a diary or journal? I used to have a song folder, which is the closest I ever got, and then of course there’s all my writing journals, but those are mostly stories, not strictly personal thoughts. I did try once in camp, but someone stole it, so clearly that was a bad idea, and I never tried again. 

24. do you prefer to use pen or pencil? pen

25. what is your star sign? gemini

26. do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? mostly crunchy, but I like pops to be a big soggy

27. what would you want your legacy to be? I just want to be remembered, not really sure what for at this moment...

28. do you like reading? What was the last book you read? I do love to read, I recently re-read The Call of the Wild by Jack London 

29. how do you show someone you love them? Being there for them, showing my support when they’re down or if they need help. also just saying it, getting them little gifts that remind me of them 

30. do you like ice in your drinks? sometimes, but never in juice or milk 

31. what are you afraid of? sharks, starvation, being deserted in the middle of the ocean and being alone 

32. what is your favorite scent? ooooh that’s a tough one, I like fresh scents, like rain, ocean water, the forest, and other natural and seasonal scents like herbs and spices, flowers, sandalwood, vanilla, etc. 

33. do you address older people by their name or surname? Depends who they are, family I’ve been trying to keep their titles in there, like Aunt & Uncle because they told me they like that, if it’s someone at work I use their first name with them and their surnames when discussing them with outside clients. 

34. if money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I would probably travel a lot, visit all the places I wanted to go and visit my family around the world, pay off all my debts, pay for medical bills...and I would buy back my family home. 

35. do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? I love the idea of the ocean, but it’s big and scary and covers the majority of our planet so we can never really uncover everything that’s out there, so I prefer the safety of a landlocked pool. 

36. what would you do if you found $50 in the ground? Depends on the context. If I found $50 on the ground but I know that someone has lost it, I give the money back to the person. If I don’t know whose money is that, I keep it to myself. (keeping this answer bc same- also same!)

37. have you ever seen a shooting star? did you make a wish? yes and yes

38. what is one thing you would want to teach your children? your anger does not control you and while violence might seem like a convenient answer, it is never the solution to your problems; using your words is a much smarter and efficient tactic to defeating your issues/enemies etc. And you should treat others the way you would like to be treated and always protect your family. 

39. if you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? I’ve always liked the idea of triskelion because of the many different things it represents (plus teen wolf), and I would put it on my wrist because I’m cliche 

40. what can you hear now? the air conditioning is really loud in this basement

41. where do you feel the safest? under the covers with my cat 

42. what is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? I wish I was more confident and could overcome my stage fright, I get nervous talking in front of anyone and it’s just so frustrating to trip over my words so much when I know exactly what I want  to say, but my mouth won’t speak the words 

43. if you could travel back to any era, what would it be? I always liked the fashion of the Victorian Era, but the treatment of women was terrible, which is mostly true for most points in history, so...idk 

44. what is your most used emoji? 💕 because I love these hearts, and one is just never enough

45. describe yourself using one word. tenacious

46. what do you regret the most? not being there when my father died

47. last movie you saw? I just watched Knives Out last night! 

48. last tv show you watched? currently have Derry Girls s2 queued up 

49. invent a word and its meaning. dude, come on, I have no idea

Welp that was a lot of questions, but it was a nice break from work 😂 Seriously no pressure, this was a long one! Tagging: @mercheswan @superdanys @clotpolesonly @tinanewt @anduril @buckleydiazs @lightfiretomypaperwings @lovelyhufflepuff38 @when-she-writes-stuff @mysnflower @hecthledgers @dannneelackles @nighttimemachinery @theproblemwithstardust @tabbytabbytabby

[gore-hovnd]

So a few days I posted that I’d outlined my headcanon for Jack’s life up until the events of TWS and I got some good advice to post it. So I prettied it up and fleshed out a few concepts and now I’m throwing it at tumblr

Now, these are just my headcanons, and yes I’m forcing HH into it bc I love the ship and even though it’d never happen in canon, it was fun to kinda toy with the whole “how they met” idea. So yeah, here’s this and I’m gonna go lay down lol

I’ll see about doing one for Brock too? Just depends on how long it takes for me to think of stuff up for him. 

Jack’s Timeline

      • Jack Rollins was born in 1974 to John and Leanne Rollins in the mountains of Colorado, right outside of a major city

      • At the time of his birth he was their fifth son but would end up being the middle sibling of nine

          ◦  The reason Jack’s parents had so many children was because Leanne had grown up an only child and recalled how lonely it was. She never wanted her kids to be lonely so she decided she wanted a lot of them. Originally, she’d planned to stop at five but Leanne and John decided they wanted to keep trying until they had a girl.

      • Jack’s siblings consist of: 

          ‣  Matthias - 1964

          ‣ Titus and T.J. - 1966

          ‣ Lawson - 1970

          ‣ Cooper - 1980

          ‣ Benjamin - 1982

          ‣ Samuel - 1983

          ‣ Annalise - 1985

      • Jack was born premature and doctors didn’t think he would survive

          ◦ Because of this, Leanne favored him and always kept a close eye on him

      • During Jack’s early life, his parents thought he may have had a learning disability due to the fact that he rarely, if ever spoke. 

          ◦ It turned out that Jack was selectively mute

      • John didn’t take well to this diagnosis and wanted to try to force Jack to speak

          ◦ He suggested doing this by forcing Jack to verbally ask for things like food, water, bathroom breaks, etc. 

                ‣ Leanne rejected this and instead decided that Jack would be treated by a therapist

      • Jack began to speak more in middle school

          ◦ It started out with asking / answering questions in class, asking to borrow a pencil from classmates, etc. 

      • By the time Jack was in 8th grade, while still shy, was able to speak with relative ease

      • In 1987, when Jack was 13, his mother passed away due to an ongoing heart condition

          ◦ Because of this, Jack’s family feared he would stop talking again

      • While Jack didn’t stop talking, he also didn’t seem to mourn the loss of his mother either

      • Concerned with this, John had sent Jack to a new therapist

          ◦ The new therapist claimed Jack was going through a period of dissociative shock 

                ‣ It took years of therapy and counseling for Jack to open up and properly grieve 

      • Jack ended up going to a different high school than most of his peers from middle school and had to basically start over. 

      • For a little while he would keep to himself and didn’t really take the steps to make any new friends

          ◦ Until three months into the semester when he was paired up to work on an assignment with a boy named Dalton

      • Dalton took a liking to Jack and introduced him to the rest of his friend group; consisting of Cole, Braxton, Lucan, and Matt

      • The boys grew close together; they would hang out after school together and Jack would go to their drama club performances even though he was too shy to be in one himself. 

      • During spring break of his freshman year, Jack found out and met Braxton’s two dads, Arthur and Christopher

          ◦ Before this, Jack had never met a gay couple before

                ‣ Meeting them sprung questions of Jack’s own sexuality

      • When Jack’s dad found out about Braxton’s parents, he reacted very negatively and this scared Jack back into his shell

          ◦ He rarely spoke to his father about anything after that

      • For the entirety of his sophomore year and the majority of his junior year, Jack tried to ignore his sexuality

      • Until finally, nearing the end of his junior year, he came out to Arthur and Christopher and asked them for advice

          ◦ The two of them told Jack he could always confide in them

      • At 18, Jack developed a crush on a new student who’d moved to Colorado from Los Angeles

      • This boy’s name was Christian and the two of them began to date soon after meeting

      • Jack told Christian that he didn’t want to go public about their relationship, basically stating he liked to keep his personal life private

          ◦ Christian agreed not to say anything

      • The two of them dated for a few months but that all came to a screaming halt during winter break

      • Christian had gone over to the Rollins’ home asking for him and responded with “Jack’s boyfriend” when John asked Christian who he was. 

      • John was absolutely livid and kicked Jack out without a second thought. 

          ◦ Jack and Christian got into a huge argument over this and broke up due to it

      • Jack’s uncle, Mike, had offered a place for Jack to stay

          ◦ He slept on Mike’s couch for the final semester of his senior year

      • Once Jack graduated, he enlisted in the Marines and disappeared without telling his family anything. 

      • Six weeks into boot camp, he’d given into the guilt and wrote letters to T.J., who was the only one of his siblings who still spoke to him, as well as his uncle

      • While in the Marines, Jack pretty much shed his childhood shyness entirely and grew to be more self confident. 

          ◦ He also became a trained sniper and demolitions expert

      • In late 2000, Jack was in an unfortunate accident while on deployment that left him blind in his left eye

          ◦ Because of this, Jack was discharged 

      • After being discharged, with pretty much nowhere to go, Jack spent 9 months on the streets. 

          ◦ But in August of 2001, when Jack was 27, an agent got in contact with him and told Jack he worked for a government funded agency that recruited and rehabilitated veterans for reenlistment. 

      • Jack agreed to sign a contract and go with this agent

      • During training, which was long and grueling, he met a man named Ellison Lomack and the two of them quickly became friends.

      • Jack spent five years going on missions for this agency, assuming that he was once again an active duty Marine

      • In 2006 he was given the opportunity to be brought onto an elite STRIKE team that could earn him up to $95,000 a year. 

          ◦ Jack was chosen to be the Second in Command of STRIKE Team Alpha

      • His orientation to this team was when he’d found out he was part of HYDRA

      • Being told, essentially, that he would either continue working or be killed, Jack chose the former

      • Being the chosen SIC, Jack had to go through extra training and bonding with the STRIKE team’s commander, Brock Rumlow

          ◦ Brock told Jack when they first met; “I trust you with my life, you gotta learn to trust me with yours.” 

      • In the first few months, Brock was almost glued to Jack’s hip any time they were at work or in the field

          ◦ Including times when Jack was diffusing bombs, which freaked Jack out

      • Over time, Brock and Jack began to work together like a well oiled machine, Jack’s calm and calculating personality working well with Brock’s brazen and abrasive one. 

      • And in 2009, while drinking after a highly successful mission, Brock and Jack had drunk sex in the hotel room of the British Prime Minister, hardly slipping away before they got caught

      • Jack began to recognize his feelings for Brock after this night but refused to pursue anything, feeling as though it would be safer to preserve their established relationship

          ◦ Everything pretty much went back to normal

      • Two years passed and their relationship grew stronger, but never took a romantic turn. Until one night on a particularly difficult mission where everything had gone tits up and they only had 24 hours to fix it. 

            ◦ Brock is stressed out about it and laments that he isn’t afraid to die, but admits he wished he could’ve spent more time with Jack before he did

      • Brock and Jack share a kiss under the stars in a desert and fuck on the hood of their military issued Jeep while their team sleeps in a safe house 20 feet away. 

      • After this mission, that they were able to pull off by the skin of their teeth, Brock and Jack make things official. 

          ◦ Both of them lead relatively private lives and don’t make it known to the rest of the team that they’re seeing each other

      • Three years pass and six months before Project Insight, Brock brings up the idea of getting married for the sake of spousal immunity just in case things don’t go as planned.

          ◦ So they get married, something simple at the court house and neither of them change their names. 

      • Afterward, Brock and Jack are living happily as a married couple and they fantasize about what kind of life they hope to share when Insight goes through and they’re finally free from HYDRA’s demanding grip

      • Project Insight comes along and Brock and Jack meet the infamous Winter Soldier

      • Project Insight launches and things go horribly wrong

      • Brock splits up with Jack at the Trisk, telling Jack to head back out and that he’d meet him outside. 

          ◦ Initially, Jack follows the instructions given. But a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach has him turning around to go and get Brock 

      • The helicarriers crash into the building and Jack gets caught beneath the rubble

      • He’s stuck there for two days before he finally succumbs and the entire time, all he could do was fiddle with his ring and think about Brock.

[angeldormante]

i talk 100% shit about dutch all the time and that’s because his rat-sniffin mango munching ass deserves it, but he does show a lot of care too and it makes my heart sad bc he has plenty of small but really genuine moments

off the top:

after the bar fight in valentine at the start of the game, when dutch rolls up with trelawney, arthur is like just limping and wheezing and fucking dying while everyone just talks around him normally LMAO poor guy

but if you watch dutch he actually does go quiet for a few seconds and checks arthur over with kind of an intense attention

he even bends down closer after arthur tries waving him off. he seems satisfied enough not to say anything but it’s a sweetly subtle moment even before he tells arthur to go clean himself up

i’m telling you lads we got fuckin ROBBED not getting to see more of the immediate aftermath of arthur’s kidnapping. i wanted to see hosea and john and susan rip dutch three separate new assholes. 

what we saw instead was dutch’s unconvincing “of cOUrse i was coming” like fuck you dutch you're not even trying to lie. all that said though, arthur does write about it in his journal, and he mentions that there were many, many guilt-ridden apologies from dutch while arthur was bedridden. that makes me believe that dutch was truly and seriously regretful, bc dutch is not the type to apologize; usually he deflects responsibility by trotting out some variation of the “nobody’s perfect” speech. 

i actually believe that dutch sincerely thought arthur just fucked off after the meeting, that micah probably fed him some bullshit juice that he just chugged down as per usual. his shock and promises that arthur was safe when he first returned to camp, imo, seemed way more 100% genuine than the first time i heard that man open his mouth in colter, saying he’d gladly take the place of everyone who died, and was like “this is some fake ass slime”. he seemed genuinely shaken and upset at arthur’s injuries; that was a candid, unpracticed reaction from someone who took great lengths to script everything he said. 

ultimately he never owned up to the truth that he wasn’t looking for arthur, but the regret was there, i guess.

right this is supposed to be a semi-positive dutch post sorry

i do love him as a complex as hell character, and as one of the people who ultimately did heavily shape arthur’s morals, even if he was shitty at following them himself. 

but what a bastard man.

anyway moving on

the whole fishing scene?? hello??? i don’t think i need to expand on anything here, it was just easily the most wholesome moment in the entire damn game and i loved it. two dads taking their son fishing and jazzing him with embarrassing childhood stories and singing like idiots. what a good mission r* used exclusively to rip our hearts out through our faces. 

i also think it was a fantastically subtle look at a more genuine dutch, separated from all of the cult leader persona bullshit. it’s a lot easier to see how much arthur looked up to a man like that, if that’s who he grew up with instead of who he was by 1899.

but why the fuck didn’t you bring john you cowards

on guarma he was so happy to see arthur ): this man thought he just lost hosea and his sons all in one fell swoop and he was stuck with like, bill now lmao

i don’t know if it’s a well-known thing but if you fail to keep up with the chain gang, the guards start whacking arthur and eventually will literally beat him to death. dutch actually jumps in here and starts fighting them and yelling at them to stop but listen this is fucking devastating

it’s non-canon bc you can’t get this scene without arthur just fucking DYING but it makes me sad anyway

dutch is such an entire ass for all of ch 6 and i don’t have a lot good to say about him here lmflkf

seriously every time i see him mocking a deathly sick arthur about needing to rest i wish for hosea’s spirit to descend from heaven and jedi slap his stupid soul patch right off his chin

the moment where he pulls arthur from the river is bittersweet, because it shows that he does still care, but there’s something... off putting about it too. the way he reassures arthur that he’s okay feels a lot like a lie and it’s sad to me, because i get the feeling that he’s trying to convince himself way more than arthur

the one ch 6 moment i do think is really worth talking about, though, is right before the infamous “INSIST??” scene. when dutch pulls arthur aside while he’s coughing and wheezing, where no one can hear them, and he stops and stutters his sentence and goes “and you ain’t... you ain’t doin’ too well”. he rolls right into his usual bullshit assurances after that, but for that split second his tone goes gentle and understanding and, at least to my ears, reluctant. dutch hates admitting that arthur seriously isn’t well, and tries to brush it off as soon as possible. it’s up in the air whether this is actually genuine love on dutch’s part, putting him in denial of his son’s illness, or if it’s just another card he’s trying desperately to keep upright in his house of them. but it’s a few seconds of honest vulnerability from dutch in a chapter where he’s otherwise an absolute madman who seems totally lost in his displays of control.

the final scene where he walks away from both arthur and micah hurts me in ways that defy the fiction barrier so i don’t want to talk about it

but i’ve seen gifs that claim he’s got tears in his eyes and honestly i believe it

in the end i think dutch walked away because that’s historically what he does in response to all of his failures: he walks away. only this time there was no pretending he was a good man; he fucked up and he knew it, and this time there was no lie easily in reach that he could use to soothe everyone who was wounded by it. there was nothing he could give to arthur to make it okay. dutch built himself up on the lie of being a good man for so long, that when it came time for him to be genuine, he had nothing to give. so he didn’t.

what a shitman but god damn is he an amazing character

in retrospect this post absolutely went all over the place, lmao i am sorry. tl;dr dutch was an awful manipulative asshole, but people are gray areas and there were moments of goodness in that man subtle enough to be genuine too. i hesitate to use the term “love”, to avoid the debate where an obviously conditional love should even be categorized as love at all, but i truly do believe that dutch was someone capable of a lot of genuine care that he ultimately squandered.

now give me the rumored rd1 remaster so i can watch him fall off a cliff in hd, rockstar.

[thejamesoldier]

A Single Frayed Rope

AO3 Link :)

Prologue

A/N: So Arthur's got his own horse (of course not poor Boadicea) like the other gang members do and not that Tennessee Walker pinto you get in the start of the game bc reasons and artistic license :)))))))

Chapter 1 ~ Colter I

The Northwestern Peaks of Grizzlies East, Ambarino ~ Unknown Date

You know for sure you're dreaming this time.

Blue clear skies reign above you, a mountain sleeps below you, and green grass rolls gently over the steep rock inclines on either side of you. Wildflowers humbly greet the sun as dawn breaks the fasting cold of night, life slowly awakening as light hushes into the world. An eagle soars a few leagues above you, great wings flapping as it lowers itself with its talons extended to a rock that sits behind what looks to be a, a simple grave.

Something draws you forward, a single rope tying you irrevocably to whatever lies in the distance -- whatever is on the other end. You pick your way slowly across the uneven terrain as sweeping curtains of warmth brought by the proud dawn part before you. Despite the sun tingling against your skin, you hold yourself tight to brace against the stubborn morning chill nipping at your heels like loyal hounds, urging you to move faster towards the inevitable. There's a silence that settles around you then, broken only by the sound of your footsteps that crunch against the gravel as you walk. You stop a respectful foot in front of the humble resting place unsure of what to do but strangely not questioning why you're here. Flowers the exact color of sunset are planted in a thoughtful cluster around an erected cross, a circle of wood rounding atop all three protruding ends of the cross distinguishes it from a normal grave. A sentence is carved there while a name is displayed on the horizontal center plank.

"Arthur Morgan," You whisper softly after a moment, reading the name carefully but lovingly etched into the fresh wood. The name feels foreign on your tongue but none the less it yanks on that rope anchored deep in your chest.

Before you can read the rest of the epitaph the eagle takes off with a cry as the wind picks up suddenly, startling your gaze away from the grave. The wind doesn't gust into you as you expect it to by the swift way it lifts the eagle high into the sky. Instead it sings, harmonizes with itself, as it banks against the mountain face behind you after dragging chilled fingers along your cheeks. Its as if speaking the name of the man who rests here evoked something within the surrounding nature, the moment feels sacred somehow, and in the distance you notice a stag -- proud head lifted high as it faces you. He's about a mile off, standing in a large green valley that rests just after the mountain's sheer incline gentles into sloping hills. A thick heavy morning fog curls about his hooves, the sun barely reaching him as it crawls slowly over the jagged line of the horizon and glows softly within the frame of his antlers -- a phantom of strength and beauty. Even after you meet his gaze and hold it, exposed and stripped of everything material, the great beast remains unshaken.

Maybe this isn't a dream.

Maybe it isn't dawn but its dusk.

And maybe...maybe this is a memory.

--

A Glacier Northwest of Colter ~ May, 1899  

Arthur doesn't understand what he's seeing at first.

Javier gives pause beside him too as they spot John and then notice the curled up form beside him. They both sway slightly on their feet when they eventually work out its a naked unconscious woman. Arthur's body jolts him forward on its own in order to begin working his way down to get her -- John, to get them both. John doesn't even seem like he knows she's there as he calls for Arthur in that raspy familiar voice of his, the sound of it reopening a wound deep in Arthur's chest that he's been constantly attempting to repair ever since John returned to the gang.

He left us.

Arthur clenches his jaw as he approaches him, shoving the hurt away as violently as he can even though he knows it'll float back up through his subconsciousness and haunt him later. Worry, of all things, takes his sorrow's place as he really assess John's condition. But as soon as John meets his eye, spirit nearly broken as his body is, Arthur feels his familiar wall of anger spring up around him at the vulnerability, swiftly separating him from the world, a veil against his reality -- his coping mechanism polished and efficient from years of use against pain and loss. Arthur offers John a few clipped words of comfort as he bends to collect John's nearly frozen body. Its not until he heaves him -- albeit a little more roughly than necessary -- up over his shoulder and starts to pass him to Javier to carry out of the small sunken ditch they're in, that John even acknowledges the woman lying a few feet away.

"The girl, the woman-n A-Arthur, the woman, she ain't dead, t-take her too." John gets out through his violently chattering teeth.

Arthur doesn't quite know how to respond to that as he was already planing to take her with them so he doesn't, just wordlessly bends down and gently pitches the woman up into his arms, trying to avoid looking at her nakedness as he does so.

How the hell did a woman end up running about on a frozen mountain alone and naked, of all things?

Putting her over his shoulder didn't feel right, made her seem too much like a corpse, so instead Arthur carries her bridal style and holds her as close to his chest as he can as he minds his footing while navigating his way off the ledge to higher more solid ground.

Once they reach their mounts Arthur speaks over the wind that's starting to pick up again,

"Marston! Where did she come from?"

John winces as he gingerly adjusts himself behind Javier on the back of Boaz,

"Dunno, I was r-runnin' from them wolv-ves and we kind of found each other. T-Took to the high cliffs to escape."

Arthur only grunts in response as he struggles to loosen his saddle enough to pull the wool blanket that served as a saddle pad out from underneath the leather seat. Once he's wiggled it free he quickly covers the limp woman in his arms with it, hoping the heat from the worked horse settled deep in the fabric would help her thaw or at least stop her from losing any limbs if she hadn't lost them to hypothermia already. He lifts her up onto his mare Sabine after re-tightening the saddle, hushing at her when she nickers in protest at the loss of her blanket, before mounting up himself. Arthur's fingers shake with the cold as he unbuttons his thick layers of coats and pulls the woman tight against his chest. He does his best trying to button the both of you in together, forcing the stiff worn fabrics to stretch.

"Why the hell is she naked?" Javier asks, since no one else was willing to, as he turns Boaz in a direction that looks like it holds the safest path back to camp.

John shrugs only to instantly regret moving, the deep open wounds on his face pulling themselves wider as he lets out a shout of pain.

"Let's just get back to camp and ask questions later," Arthur orders as he positions the woman's body to curl in to him, hooking her legs over to one side of the horse and guiding her head to rest in the pocket of warmth between the side of his neck and the thick fur of his coat's flipped up collar. Any of her skin that isn't covered by his coat Arthur tucks the saddle pad around.

He pushes aside all sense of propriety as he feels Javier and John watching him maneuver her as they wait -- not judging Arthur, just uneasy with the overall absurdity of the situation. Every inch of her is pressed against him, uncomfortably so, in favor of making sure she doesn't die. He knows bare skin against bare skin is the most efficient way to share body heat, he knows this is a life or death situation going by the fact that she's starting to chill Arthur to the bone with how cold she is. The severity of her condition helps him ignore his bashfulness and follow Javier's lead with his head high as he guides the small group back to camp.

Arthur promises himself he can be embarrassed and furious about all this later.

--

Colter ~ May, 1899

The first thing you register is the absence of the cold. It's strange because you had grown so used to it, you felt oddly naked without it.

And that becomes the second thing you register: course fabric against your skin.  

You slowly stir yourself into consciousnesses, feeling like you have molasses in your veins and a heavy stone for a brain. Your body protests sharply though as you attempt to sit up once you understand you're in fact alive and no longer freezing. The pain is a deep stabbing ache that seems to have no origin but just exists in every cell of your body, and it bullies you back into stillness. Once your suffering ebbs a touch, your other senses take over.

"Is the lost lady waking up?" A small nervous voice asks, a child.

"Dunno Jack, but if she does she's in enough pain that I reckon she couldn't hurt us even if she tried." A responding voice hushes, tone firm but comforting and intimate. The mother.

"Okay."

You keep your eyes closed at that, thinking maybe you should pretend to be asleep a little longer (and you don't think your eyes could handle any form of light right now anyways). Your head throbs as being awake starts to prove to be painful and exhausting, your tongue lies heavy and dry in your mouth, and you agree with the woman -- your limbs feel like lead, so heavy you don't think you could lift your pinky finger.

Weak, you feel so weak.

And with that thought you're pulled back under the dark surf of unconsciousness.

--

"Dutch, Dutch we got a lot of folk to feed now," A man's worried voice accompanied by a door banging open yanks you out the grey fray you were lost in, "If you keep savin' lost souls and taking hostages then we gotta act accordingly. We're responsible for them now and we gotta take care of everyone else! We can't do that if you go gallivanting off with the strongest in our gang robbin' trains and shootin' up O'Driscolls!"

"Hosea I don't know what to tell you, I've said this a hundred times, we'll be fine. We always are. We made it back alright from that O'Driscoll camp, and we will make it back from this train robbery in tact and that much richer. We need this money. How are we gonna move everyone to a safe place without cash?"

"We at least need to leave the goddamned snow, Dutch! Once we get to country that's inhabited by people then we can think about a big take, but right now food and not freezin' to death are our main concerns."

"Arthur and Charles found us some food, we'll be fine --,"

"No we are not fine. The two stags, both of which were starving too by the way, aren't going to last us. Arthur and Javier brought back John and a half-dead woman who we know nothing about, and then on top of that you found poor Mrs. Adler and now another O'Driscoll! Christ alive Dutch, half of us are dyin' we can't afford to risk --,"

"Hosea," The sound of hands grasping shoulders fills the pause between the man's words, "Hosea have faith in me, trust me to get us all out of this alive."

Silence reigns then. You figure you're in a small room by the way their voices don't carry too far in the space. Wind howls outside, banging on doors and rattling windows fighting to get in. The confusion that hits you once you really catch on to their conversation alarms you so severely you begin to shake.

Gangs?

Shooting?

Robbing?

What the fuck is going on? Where are you? Who in Gods name are these people?

"I trust you Dutch, you know that, but think about this, please, for me. Think about all the people that need to be the priority right now, Colm will still be there, trains and coaches and rich people to rob will still be there, but John might not make it, the woman with him who was naked mind you and already half dead when they found her will probably not make it, Mrs. Adler might not make it. Davey died, Dutch. Jenny is dead. We've got family missin' too, Mac and Sean --,"

"You don't have to remind me Hosea!"

"Okay, I know, but we gotta think about them and who is left. We gotta put the gang first, and ridin' out like this isn't going to help or save anyone."

"I've, I've made up my mind Hosea. This money is what we need, it will help us be comfortable once we've left the mountains."

"Dutch there are other ways to help, I know you're desperate to do something -- anything that's useful, but this isn't the way to go about it --,"

"It's too good a chance to miss and I'm taking the risk."

"Dutch!"

The door bangs open again and the two pairs of angry footsteps leave. The wind bursts in as they exit and lathers you with its icy breath, making you shake harder as the door closes and leaves you alone with the cold and a growing sense of unfathomable fear. With more effort than it should take, you finally open your eyes, your lids sticking a bit as your irises protest even in the dim lighting of the room. Once you're able to take in your surroundings your panic only increases.

A bare wooden cabin that looks like it could be blown over if the wind pushed a hair harder turns out to be the room you've been in, a pathetic fire struggles in a fireplace with strips of cloth, twigs, and stray handfuls of hay to serve as its logs in the corner nearest to you. You're laying on a cot of some sort with no blankets, just the fabric of your clothes to shield you from the cold seeping through the generous cracks in the wood-plank walls. You finally sit up after four separate attempts once you realize you're alone. Your head swims with the change of position and your stomach gives a nauseating drop but you firmly ignore it as you try to quell the panic that's slowly inflating in your chest like an iron balloon, inch by inch it doesn't yield, growing steadily -- inevitably -- and stealing your sanity.

The urge to run spikes in your system, your flight instinct kicking in as savagely as it did when the wolves chased you.

You grunt as you make yourself stand, swaying dangerously on your feet you grip the splintering mantle of the fireplace to stop yourself from collapsing. Struggling to fight the buckling in your knees, you feel the adrenaline slowly feeding strength into your dead muscles, injecting you with empty energy causing you to shake and shiver like a crack addict but none the less giving you the push to get your body into motion. You stagger to the door and wait as you hear the sound of muted hooves thunder away, a small stampede charging the smirking maws of the mountains. When the voices left behind simmer down and everything seems quiet enough, you crack the door open an inch to get a look outside. You recoil almost immediately at the brightness of the sun reflecting off the blanket of snow covering everything. It takes your eyes a good ten minutes to adjust and for you to really get a sense of your situation.

No one seems to be out, though you know people are in the cabins that line both sides of what you assume is a street or main path in the center of this small cluster of sad buildings. Everything is dilapidated and falling apart, well tread paths clue you in to which buildings are most heavily inhabited. Horse hitching posts stand lonely and bare a bit ways down and your mind struggles to wrap its head around everything.

Where are the cars? The street lights? The telephone poles? Or any sign of genuine civilization?

You swallow against the bile that rises from the back of your throat as panic only suffocates you further. Its bare of people outside so you could probably sneak out, but how the hell are you supposed to survive out there in nature by yourself? Especially in your condition. It's not like you could make a phone call or steal someones cell phone as you spotted none in the room on the way to the door. It's not like you could escape by stealing a car, or a... a horse since that's what these people used instead of technology. Are you on some sort of farm? Is this a Mormon colony? Is there a driveway or garage further down the snow covered road you just couldn't see? All the questions swirling in your brain distract you so much that you don't hear the door that connects this room with the adjoining one open.

"You're awake,"

You startle and collapse to the floor as three people behind you raise their hands in surrender while you shake with your back against the wall. Its the man you nearly froze to death with, a woman, and a child -- a young boy.

"Woah okay, you're okay," The woman says in what sounds like a heavy southern accent, though it registers as slightly different from what you remember a southern accent sounding like. You can't put your finger on it.

The woman doesn't attempt to move closer to you as she is supporting the weight of the man, but she does push the boy who you assume to be her son behind her with her free hand. You just stare and shake, unable to do much else. Now that you're on the floor it seems impossible to try and get back up, like all the adrenaline you had before has now twisted into fear and its paralyzing you instead of helping you move. They're all dressed like they're straight out of a western film, or like they're part of some high budget reenactment. The theory that this is some sort of Mormon colony dissipates like smoke in the wind because you're pretty sure established Mormons don't wear tattered rags and live in poverty like this. This only adds to your confusion and mounting anxiety. It's not until you wrap your arms around your knees that you realize you're wearing almost the exact same thing the woman is, a dull coarse frock of some sort with a heavy shift and thick skirts.

"W-What," You croak out of your unused throat, beginning to hyperventilate.

Why are you also wearing old fashion clothing?

"Hey, okay you're okay, you're safe," The woman tries to emphasize gently like she's speaking to a wild animal, but you don't really hear her as your heart starts to beat too fast, your breath turns to ash in your lungs, blood rushes from your head, your ears start to ring, and all sense of reality slips from you.

--

"Poor thing," Abigail murmurs, glancing over at the woman in the cot adjacent to John's while she unwraps the bandages on John's face.

Abigail had moved her with the help of Miss Grimshaw back to her cot after she blacked out on the floor.

John stays silent but does look over at the stranger too. The wild desperation he saw in her eyes the first time he met her on that mountain had morphed into a kind of savage panic. He feels sorry for her as she lays there exhausted and weak and scared, and is reminded how lucky he is Abigail gives a damn about him. He couldn't imagine being alone right now, being as vulnerable as he is and being on his own. He never should have left Abigail and the gang -- never should have left his family.

"That would be me if it weren't for you," John finds himself whispering to Abigail, voice thick with rare emotion that echos out through the deep earthy brown of his eyes.

Admitting out loud that he needs her strips John down to a state of vulnerability he has never exposed to Abigail or anyone before. John knows how horrible Abigail and him are at telling each other how they feel, its endless guessing and fighting and passion and push and pull and sex and hate and give and take. This gentle moment between them is precious, and John knows Abigail recognizes this as she tenderly brushes some of his tangled matted hair away from the swollen scars on his face. Abigail avoids his gaze, afraid to shatter the moment -- afraid to scare John and this fragile intimacy away -- and only dabs gently at John's facial wounds with a cloth drenched with near frozen alcohol. A forcefully neutral expression strains her pretty features as the true weight of his words settle in her heart. John knows he is nowhere near forgiven but he's wanted, as painful as it is for her he knows she wants him. Wants him to love her in the way she deserves, wants him to love Jack, wants him to let her love him, wants him to be a good man...

"I like her." Jack offers offhandedly, breaking them out of the moment as he stares in his own little world at the sleeping stranger with that fearful curiosity of his.

John wants to say something to stomp out the magic in Jack's eyes, to erase the air of mystery around the woman, but he manages to bite his tongue. He hates when he has urges like that, urges to destroy everything that brings Abigail's boy some semblance of joy or wonder.

A good man? John thinks bitterly, the word good doesn't even exist in my vocabulary. 

--

Returning from the successful train robbery should feel like a victory, feel good, but Arthur just can't manage to gather any ego under him as he spots Hosea talking fiercely with Dutch by one of the cabins. Hosea always knows when shit is going downhill, is the brain behind Dutch's colorful brawn, and when Hosea is worried its usually a good sign that everyone should be worried. Arthur had felt hesitant about the robbery job too, but he trusted that Dutch knew what he was doing. Hell he'd follow Dutch off a cliff if it was asked of him.

"That's it girl," Arthur murmurs at Sabine, his wild Hungarian Halfbred mare he managed to tame as the gang had been chased up into the mountains. He missed his Boadicea but this mare has an air about her, has so much fight in her he originally had thought she was a stallion. With a solid black coat that shines like polished onyx in the sun and a build that towers over everyone and everything -- even Bill's Adrennes, the majestic audacity of her stuns him almost everytime he looks at her.

Arthur guides his girl over to the hitching posts and stiffly dismounts, the cold making his muscles clamp up a bit. He brushes her as best he can with the saddle on still trying to get her used to him. He has to be really strict with her, has to really use his legs to get her to listen (especially in tense situations) since being heavy handed on the bit and tearing her mouth up would only enrage her, not encourage her to work with him. But he knows that once he's earned her trust and they both work out their special language of physical and verbal cues, that she'll make one hell of a partner in crime. Arthur sneaks her a stale oatcake he found at the bottom of a barrel Pearson had stashed in the makeshift kitchen, and pets her thick glorious neck as Dutch and Hosea's unintelligible arguing carries over the clearing to him. It sounds like its really starting to get heated and it makes Arthur's heart heavy. He sighs before giving Sabine one more rub behind her ear, getting a hard snort of attitude for his trouble, and heads toward the cabin he knew John and Abigail were holed up in.  

--

You have been awake and pretending to be asleep for what feels like hours now and its due to the fact that you're terrified to face reality. You keep convincing yourself that if you listen in on one more conversation everything will finally make sense. But honestly, the more you eavesdrop the more confused you become.

"It sounds like Hosea is gonna try and move us soon, probably tomorrow since the storm has finally broke." The woman who tried to comfort you during your panic attack earlier -- the mother -- says earnestly. You've since learned that her name is Abigail.

"Well good, I never wanna be cold or see snow again for the rest of my life." The man who had almost froze to death with you replies, his name you discovered is John.

Their son (or at least Abigail's son, you weren't sure if John is the father; the two of them argue quite nastily about it whenever the boy sleeps), who you eventually figure out is named Jack, has been silent for awhile. Though when you hear a rustling of fabric -- small hands readjusting their grip in his mother's thick skirts to keep warm, you know he's still in the room.

The door is thrown open before Abigail can respond and you hope no one notices how sharply you flinch.

"Still alive there Marston?" Comes a new voice to accompany the freezing draft that's let in, one you don't recognize but still sounds familiar somehow.

"It'll take more than a couple of wolves and a snow storm to get me out of the picture." John immediately shoots back, tone defensive -- completely losing the softness it courted when speaking with Abigail.

"Yeah, I reckon you could find a simpler excuse to cut and run again than that."

"Arthur!" Abigail snaps and you realize that this isn't playful banter between friends, its a roomful of predators bearing their teeth at each other, "I will not have you speak of that again!"

"My apologies Abigail, I just haven't forgiven the fool as quickly as you have."

"He is a fool you're right but he's my fool, he's Jack's fool, he's ours. And I'll have you remember he was your fool too once, you were brothers --,"

"Abigail stop!" John cuts her off in nearly a shout, the rough texture in his voice a sign that dangerous emotional territory was just breached.

Before anyone can say anything more though the door opens again.

"Everyone get packing, we're moving out tomorrow at first light!" It's a woman's voice, older -- a bit scratchy, kind of reminded you of a vulture's caw, "Miss Roberts you organize John and Jack's things, Arthur you come help me ready this woman for traveling."

"We're taking her with us? Has she even woken up yet?" The man you now know to be Arthur asks but doesn't argue.

"Unfortunately yes, Hosea and Dutch's orders. And I believe she's had bursts of consciousness so we'd be killin' her if we left her here."

"Doesn't Dutch think she's an O'Driscoll spy? Why would he want to keep any more of them rats alive, we already got one why keep another?"

"I don't know Mr. Morgan, if it was up to me I'd shoot them both and be done with it."  

Your heart freezes over as you realize with mounting horror that they are talking about you.

A spy? What the actual fuck?

You petrify with fear as two pairs of footsteps, one quick and determined and the other heavy with intent and the promise of violence, approaches you. If you woke up now it would be obvious that you were listening in and it would make them trust you even less than they apparently already did. Who automatically assumed a naked lost woman on a frozen mountaintop was a spy? Who were these people?

"If you wouldn't mind moving her to the ground while I take apart this cot that would be a great help Mr. Morgan."

"Why do we need the cot?"

"Bill wants it. Says he can use it to torture the two O'Driscolls on when we get to warmer country."

Your blood runs cold at that before solidifying into ice as big hands grab you, manhandling you like you are a cheap rag doll, and hauling you up into the air. You force yourself to remain limp in his arms as he holds you bridal style, trying not to cower and flinch as you're not so gently adjusted in this man's grip. You're ready to be lowered back down again presumably on the floor but you remain firmly in Arthur's arms. But this does little to pull you from your worries.

Now they're talking about torture?

You hadn't thought your terror could get any worse but you were oh so wrong.

While Arthur is warm, a great furnace wrapped in what feels like thick coats, it does nothing to comfort you. In fact tears line your closed eyelids and slip out of the corners of your lashes. The physicality of being in the arms of someone who wanted -- or at least didn't care if you were tortured, left here in the cold, or died made everything too real. Made the fear that has plagued you since you woke in that silent forest naked and alone crumble what little control you had maintained in the mock safety of the Marston family cabin.  

"She's shakin'," You hear Arthur murmur under his breath, tone as deep and vast as the bottom of the sea, sounding like he hadn't meant to speak out loud. Then deliberately, "She's shakin' and cryin'," And when that doesn't get him a response, "Miss Grimshaw?"

He sounds unsure, edging on panic ironically enough. Probably just ready to be rid of the discomfort your display of manifested terror is giving him.

"She'll be fine Mr. Morgan, she's just weak is all. It's better this way anyway, we'll get more outta her faster when she comes to enough to interrogate."

"She seemed real scared when she was awake," Abigail intercedes from what sounds like the opposite side of the room, "I don't think she's a spy."

"Well then if she's not a spy for the O'Driscolls then she is most definitely one of their whores." Arthur tightens his grip on you at this, "Who runs around as naked as the day they were born like that? There was probably an O'Driscoll camp near by," There's a short sound of hollow metal being dragged across the floor, "And she wandered too far away. There is no one else living up here, where else would she have come from?"

John mumbles something about you then but you don't hear it as you spiral yet again into another full fledged panic attack.  

"She's really breathin' hard are you sure she's alright?" Arthur says with a quality of alarm in his voice you don't have the mental capacity to analyze right now.

"Mr. Morgan I really don't understand why you're so bothered, let her suffer, easier to break her when she wakes." There is a tense pause, the sound of rusted metal joints dislocating and folding, then, "Alright, toss her on the floor there. We'll move her to the cart that will be carrying the other O'Driscoll in the morning."

You can't help but tense a little as Arthur starts to shift under you, but instead of tossing you to the floor as this Miss Grimshaw had suggested, Arthur sets you down with thundering gentleness. It shocks you so much that it brings you out of your panic for a second, wrenches you so swiftly from what you believe your reality to be. Your chest heaves out a sob as your head, cradled like fractured glass in his wide calloused palms, is laid carefully down atop the worn wood of the floorboards after the rest of your body has been transferred from his arms. His fingers linger a second on either side of your face near the cliffs of your jaw, and it makes you sob again. He withdraws all touch from you at the sound like you had burned him, like he thought he might be the reason for your pain. And in a way he is, but largely the universe is at fault.

Time traveling is not of mortal grace, something Greater is to blame for this. Since you don't know what or who is responsible, you curse them all, curse everything you can think of. Because as you sob and shiver on the floor in some cabin in the middle of nowhere surrounded by dangerous strangers in a time you have slowly come to realize is not your own, you arrive at the notion that survival is least likely. But damn it all, you will survive. Out of spite you will survive. And heaven help the force that tries to keep you from success.

--

It's the middle of the night and the people in your cabin -- John, Abigail, and Jack -- are all asleep trying to get some rest before traveling tomorrow. You manage to find a full waterskin by a few other pouches in front of the fireplace, and you down the entire thing in one go, not realizing how thirsty you were. The next thing you scavenge for in the dark room is food. Sick and tired of feeling like you'll collapse any second you silently grab one of the pouches and find that inside is what you assume is the leftover salted venison you over heard the men called Dutch and Hosea arguing about a day or so earlier. You're not sure how long you were under after passing out on the mountain, but judging by the weakness in your body more than long enough. You recoil at the taste of the jerky but gnaw at it anyway, giving up on chewing it half through and just swallowing it whole out of desperation to nourish yourself.

You're a bit shocked you haven't woken the small family (if that's what you could call them) yet, but you don't question your luck as you move as quietly as your uncoordinated body will allow after being still for so long. You scan the black night once you crack the door open enough to get a good look and struggle to see anything. After a few minutes of letting your eyes adjust you spot a row of horses hitched to posts farther down across the main road. They're huddled together for warmth, a few blankets thrown over their backs to protect from the cold. There's only one that is saddled though, its a giant black horse that seems to be the most awake too. It's odd that its saddled but again, you don't question your luck you just hope its a snowball effect and things will just keep working in your favor. It's the least you're owed for the level of fuckery you've had to endure these past few days.

You wait another beat before slipping out as quietly as possible and streaking across the path to the horses. All the rest seem to ignore you except the saddled black one that raises its great head and snorts a warning at you. To be fair you know close to nothing about horses but you do know that this one will definitely pitch a loud fit if you don't calm it down. You quickly come to the realization that you don't know how to calm a horse down and the momentum you were running on to escape wobbles dangerously under your feet. You want to cry in frustration and fear but your body is too dehydrated to produce actual tears, so instead your sinuses burn like Satan himself took up residence in your tearducts, stirring the headache you have been nursing these past few days into a full fledged migraine. Also even with the night so still, the chill in the air is deathly cold as it pierces right through your shift and skirts. With a growing sense of dread you know you won't last out there like this, whether you manage to steal a horse or not. You also don't know where you are and where to go if you did escape. Your plan disintegrates like cotton candy in warm water as you once again are slapped across the face by the reality of your situation: you are well and truly fucked and you are a prisoner with no hope of immediate escape.

You need to be smarter.

The intimidating black horse gives a harsh whinny as you slowly approach it. The saddlebags attached to its side look quite full and you figure are worth checking before retreating back inside. You know nothing about picking locks or what not, but you figure it might not hurt to snatch anything you could find that might provide you an out when you're inevitably treated like a spy or prisoner or worse starting tomorrow. You don't think you can get away with faking unconsciousness any longer. If the situation gets dire enough, anything be it hairpin or bottlecap could be the one thing keeping you alive. You'd watched enough of those survivalist shows to at least understand that.

"It's a yeet or be yeeted world, and I refuse to be the latter." You declare mostly to yourself but also to the horse that's started picking its front hooves up in mini rears and stomping them back into the snow, clearly pissed that you're not backing off.

--

Arthur concludes after a couple of beats that the woman had indeed spoken some form of English, but he can not for the sorry life of him derive any coherent meaning from what she just said. He watches her debate with herself in the middle of the dark courtyard, absolutely sure she is not an O'Driscoll spy. She had completely missed Arthur leaning against the wall just inside the makeshift kitchen directly facing the posted horses. She stands not six feet from him and is totally unaware he's there.

Some spy.

Arthur has always liked night shifts when its his turn to take watch, and observing her trying to approach Sabine, who is seconds away from alerting the entire camp that something is wrong, is the most entertaining thing Arthur has witnessed in a long time. When he finally cops a glance at her profile in the hopes of gathering some clue as to what in God's name she thinks she's going to accomplish, he eventually puts together that she's apparently attempting to steal from his saddlebags. Arthur is dizzy with perplexsion and amusement as he watches her struggle to hush Sabine who's nickering louder and louder at her in warning, tossing her head and snorting hard through her nostrils as she paws the ground and flicks her tail -- all signs that a horse is about to teach you a goddamn lesson in personal space. The aggressive streak his mare has on top of the fact that she's green (freshly broke) and still wild in spirit only makes this situation worse, Arthur knows no amount of panicked shushing is going to get rid of that look in his girl's eye. He's tempted to let Sabine bite and or kick the shit out of the woman but something in the way she grapples for the buckles of his saddlebags -- frantic and desperate -- convinces Arthur to confront her instead of leaving her to the mercy of his mare.

"Ma'am," He says as he heaves himself out of his causal lean against the wall and steps out into the open, announcing his presence to her and trying to keep the curl in his voice that drips with his amusement neutral and intimidating instead.

The woman jumps like she's been struck by lightening, and before she's even turned all the way around to face him, an apology is ripping its way past her lips.

--

Yes no maybe so? Idk this chapter kind of came together in a weird way so forgive me if it kind of read weird too. Let me know what you think if you want to, or message me if you feel like freaking out over anything RDR2 related bc im so down and also I need to know that everyone else is suffering too bc arthur morgan deserved better :''''')  

Chapter 2

Masterlist

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt27

Word Count: 2507 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

Author’s note: WELCOME TO CANADA!!

“Barbie Broughton? Are you fucking kidding me? Barbie? Really?” I looked at the ID. My face, and the horrible name. Colonel Rhodes had made me a captain though. That wasn’t too bad.

“It was the best I could do on short notice, Annie,” Tony rolled his eyes.

“You named me Barbie, Tony! I hope no one pulls me over,” I muttered. Colonel Rhodes leaned against the counter, watching me serve dinner.

“You’ll have to use it to check into hotels, sign credit card slips. Decide now how you want to be addressed.” He stole a wing from the plate.

“Ugh. I suppose Barbara will have to do,” I sighed.

“Think of this as an adventure, Annie.” Tony traded me a fresh beer for his dinner plate. We settled in for dinner. I steered the conversation away from everything wrong in the world, and instead we talked about the sights I was bound to be able to see on my drive. Despite having grown up in Canada, I’d never strayed too far from home before leaving to work for SHIELD. I was looking forward to seeing so much of country.

Pepper arrived and joined us for dinner. She had left a huge pile of shopping bags in the hallways. I soon learned everything there was intended for me. It was too much, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted my cover so thorough and complete that I wasn’t to touch my own things until I was settled in at Tony’s cabin. She went through each bag with me carefully. The woman had impeccable taste. She’d even bought me a Lulu Lemon sweatshirt, saying she saw a lot more of it when she was in Canada than she did elsewhere. I’d never been able to justify the extravagance of Lulu Lemon before, and pulled the sweatshirt on right away. I tucked the rest of the new clothes into the new bags she had purchased for me, and zipped them closed. Tony met me in the hallway and held out a messenger bag.

“What’s this?”

“You need to leave your laptop behind. This is a new one. I’ve left some notes and directions on it. For checking in with me, and the like. No porn, Annie. Here is your new shiny credit card. There’s $500 in cash in the front pocket of the bag. Have you got a gun?” He held out the credit card. I slipped it into the wallet that Pepper had bought me. Again, the woman had impeccable taste.

“I’m going to Canada, Tony, there’s laws about hand guns,” I argued.

“You need a gun. Don’t tell me you don’t have one.” His tone was sharp.

“Alright, yes. My super gave me his service revolver.” I dug into the shoulder bag and pulled it out.

“Ammo?” He asked. I dug out the two boxes of bullets that Bob had handed me. Tony opened them up to check and started laughing. He shook one of the boxes and a roll of bills slid out. It had to be at least a thousand dollars.

“Oh my god!” I gasped, “That man deserves to be sainted. He couldn’t afford to give me that! Tony, you have to make sure he gets it back.”

“Of course.” He nodded and put aside the one box. “You’re going to need extra ammo. I’ll get someone to meet us at the airport with it.”

“I suppose I need to get comfortable with this, don’t I?” I swallowed back my nerves.

“Time is wasting, Annie. Let’s get going.” He gestured toward the elevator and followed me down the hall, dragging my suitcase behind him.

When I was a kid, my dad had always called Toronto ‘The Big Smoke’. I don’t know where it came from, and I knew about 4 other cities that also boasted the nickname, but whenever anyone said it, I always thought of Toronto. My mum had always called it Hogtown, and I grew up calling it T.O., which, when I googled it as an adult, I learned was a generational thing. Any way you looked at it, Toronto was a big, sprawling metropolitan mess. It was bigger than Vancouver, not as pretty, but definitely more famous. From my view, out the wing window of the Stark Industries jet, it looked like another big city to get lost in. I hoped for a GPS in whatever vehicle Pepper had arranged for me.

“Okay, Annie, it’s showtime. Let’s get the suit on.” Tony gestured to the back of the cabin. I followed him to the open space before the galley. He put down what looked like a red and gold suitcase and tapped it with his toe. I assumed that I should starfish, and I was glad I did. The suit snapped onto me, battering me in the process. It was not built for a woman, let alone a woman with my bust. My chest felt tight, and I immediately had issues breathing.

“Tony, I don’t know if this is going to work. I can hardly breathe. It’s crushing my boobs,” I was a little breathless. He bit back a smirk and tapped at the tablet he was holding. The suit loosened just enough that I didn’t feel like I might collapse from lack of oxygen.

“Let me know where else is bothering you. Still sore from your roll down the freeway?” He watched the suit clicking into place with a critical eye, looking down every few seconds to tap something into the tablet. It always resulted in immediate relief from something pinching me.

“Am I still going to look like Iron Man in this? Because if you keep letting out seams to accommodate my lady parts, I’m going to look like Iron Vixen,” I commented when the chestplate loosened again. Pepper snorted into the back of her hand. Tony pursed his lips and squinted.

“If you jet off as quick as you can, no one will really notice.”

“This assumes I can figure out how to make your damn suit work,” I laughed.

“I’ve got J.A.R.V.I.S. set to autopilot you. You just need to put your hands at your sides, and everything will go to plan. There’s coordinates set for the Stark Industries plant, which is where we will meet you,” he explained.

“And you think the Stark Industries plant is safe?” I asked. I was worried it would be being watched.

“It’s a calculated risk, Annie. We have to hope we’re not being watched,” Pepper offered. The helmet and mask snapped onto my head and I had a moment of panic and claustrophobia before the heads-up display flashed on, and J.A.R.V.I.S. started talking to me. I saw Tony and Pepper sit back down for the landing, and tried to brace myself, thinking I might topple over. But the suit was pretty awesome and the pilot was exceptionally smooth. When the plane taxied to a stop, Pepper signaled to me to follow her to the door. When the door opened, she nodded and J.A.R.V.I.S. took over, flying me out of the airport’s airspace at a low altitude that wouldn’t interfere with the planes. J.A.R.V.I.S. informed me that the pilot had received clearance for us to fly away. The sensation of flying in the Iron Man suit was not what I was expecting at all. I think we all have that dream about the air rushing through your hair, and lightness and freedom. I felt like I was in a steel prison. The only way I knew I was moving was by watching the world pass by below me. It was surreal.

Tony had bought me a Jeep Cherokee. Correction. Tony had bought Barbie Broughton a Jeep Cherokee. Thankfully, it wasn’t a brand new one. It was stocked with a bunch of camping gear, and was in exactly the right condition for a road trip: just a little beat up on the exterior, but tuned impeccably in the engine.

“Annie, promise me you won’t take any stupid risks. I have enough to worry about with him,” Pepper placed a hand on my arm. “And think about dyeing your hair tonight. Just to be safe.”

“Cross my heart, Pepper. Thank you so much,” I threw my arms around her impulsively. She took a short step back before returning the hug. Tony put his arms around both of us and squeezed his way in between us somehow.

“Can you blame me for wanting to be the meat in the sandwich?” He asked when we pushed him away. I shook my head, and pulled him close.

“I can’t even put into words, Tony. I never thought in a million years you would be this good, decent and kind. Thank you so much.”

“Stop, I’ll cry,” he teased. “The GPS in the Jeep will get you where you are going. J.A.R.V.I.S. is linked to it and to your laptop. You have your own encrypted hotspot for internet. Don’t pick up hitchhikers, and don’t linger too long anywhere. You’re on leave after a tour in Iraq, so you aren’t going to waste time getting to your family’s cabin in BC to get away from the world. And Pepper’s right. Think about hair colour. I’m fond of red myself.”

“I got it, Dad.” I winked at Pepper. Tony put the keys in my hand and gave me one last look before sighing and turning back to the building. I climbed into the Jeep, plugged in the iPod he’d handed me with the keys and turned the engine over. AC/DC came blasting through the speakers and I smiled. It was going to be a long drive, but I was finally on my way.

Northern Ontario was the longest, dullest, most horrible stretch of road I’d ever had the bad luck of driving. There was nothing to see, except trees as far as the eye could see. I might have enjoyed it more, but I was trying to cover as much ground as I could before I stopped. In a perfect world, where I wasn’t worried about HYDRA and Garrett, I would have stopped at Sault Ste Marie, but it was just too close to the border. I wound up stopping in Sudbury for some supplies early in the drive, but then I drove until I couldn’t focus on the road anymore, and wound up in a tiny town called Marathon. I found a hotel and crashed for the night. I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. In the morning, after checking in my email with Tony and sending him a photo of the giant nickel in Sudbury, I walked over to the hair salon.

“Good morning!” There was a single woman in the shop. She was probably in her late twenties, and she had a welcoming smile. It was reassuring. “What can I help you with?”

“If you have an appointment available, I’m looking for a new look,” I started.

“I can fit you in right now. What are you thinking?”

“I’d like to try a different colour, go shorter.” I took a deep breath. I was pretty attached to my two-inches-past-regulation hair.

“Bad break up?” She asked, giving me a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, honey, let’s start by washing that man out of your hair,” she pointed at the sink. I followed her over and let her go to work. I was worried that the only hair salon in a town of 3000 people on the Canadian Shield was a tragedy waiting to happen. She cut my hair shorter than I would have liked, but in the end, once I washed all the product out of it, I thought I would be quite happy with the cut. It would still go into a ponytail, and she’d given me flowy layers around my face that softened my cheekbones and jaw. I’d suggested a chestnut brown, and despite my best effort to stick to my guns, she eventually convinced me that going brunette would be too stark against my pale skin. I wound up a strawberry blonde that was eerily reminiscent of Pepper’s hair colour. I wasn’t going to tell Tony.

“I love it,” I admitted with complete honesty.

“A little less Barbie now, wouldn’t you say? You must get that all the time,” the hairdresser laughed.

“I do,” I admitted with a sigh, “maybe I should have gone red a long time ago.”

“Well, you’re red now, and no one is going to call you Barbie for a good long time.” I left a sizeable tip and found the coffee shop before hitting the road again.

It took me two days to drive out of Ontario. I stopped in Kenora overnight, and sent Tony a picture of the giant fish that was the highlight of Kenora’s roadside. I was completely astonished to blow through all of Manitoba the next day, landing for the night in Saskatchewan. It was so incredibly flat, I was reasonably sure I could already see the Rockies. I couldn’t, of course, but I felt like I could. The Timbits in Saskatchewan were significantly better than the ones I’d had in New York, and I felt like I wanted to tell someone, but I stopped myself from sharing with the old guys sitting beside me at the Tim Horton’s in Yorkton. They didn’t look like HYDRA, they looked like old dude farmers, but I didn’t want to risk it.

I sent a quick email to Tony updating him of my location, and let him know I expected to be on the road for another two days at least. If I were lucky, it would only be two more days. I’d had too many close calls to want to stop for longer than a quick stop for a toilet and cup of coffee. It was killing me to stay more than a few hours a night at a hotel, and I found that I was napping in rest stops quite a bit to compensate for my habit of leaving as the sun rose. It would be good to get to my destination. Double-checking the map was a double-edged sword. Tony’s cabin, which I was sure was not so much a cabin as a palace in the woods run on an ARC reactor, was less than two hours from my mother’s house. From my childhood home. In my hometown. That I had to drive through to get to his cabin.

I hadn’t been home in ten years, but my hometown wasn’t a vast sprawling city like Toronto or Vancouver. It was a small city that prided itself on small city culture. If I ran into one person who recognized me, the whole cloak and dagger routine would be blown, and HYDRA would know exactly where I was. With my current luck, there were probably already HYDRA thugs in town waiting for me.