#idk I just think it’s interesting to think of what they do after the apocalypses are all said and done. esp in regard to one another | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carakook · 2 months

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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘4. Spring Is Gone

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

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⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: After being granted with “closure”, you try to enjoy your last night with Jungkook. It’s an emotional and fucking steamy mess.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 13K+ 🥴

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, active cheating, HEAVY smut, mouth spitting, wine kissing (idk if it’s actually called this but it’s what I have always called it LMAO), crying during sex, emotional sex, EMOTIONAL EVERYTHING YOU WILL CRY I AM WARNING YOU, grief, breaking up (sort of?), panic/anxiety attacks, alcohol, stealing (lol it’s kinda cute you’ll see,) making love (different from fucking), sort of rough, unprotected sex (always be careful, Y/N is on BC!), SAD JUNGKOOK I REPEAT SAD JUNGKOOK!!!! let me know if I miss anything there is a lot in this chapter.

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: The long awaited chapter. This is a long one. I cried. A lot. Holy shit? It’s actually so sad lol but also has some good smut. This isn’t the last chapter, as I said before this is a full on fanfic, I also have it on Wattpad but it gets barely any reads so if you are interested in that let me know. After this chapter, things get very… drama filled? Idk a good word for it lol. I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry in advance if you cry. I highly recommend listening to the songs, each of them have a place in every chapter which is why I list them lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Love you.❤️

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↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Merry Go - DPR Ian

♪Gimmie Love - Joji

♪The Astronaut - JIN

♪Dope Lovers - DPR Ian

♪sex money feelings die - Lykke Lie

♪Angel - The Weeknd

♪Nerves - DPR Ian

♪505 - Arctic Monkeys

♪I Love You So - The Walters

♪Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

♪Cry - Cigarettes After Sex

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Since you both agreed on enough of the heavy shit, you spend time together. The mood is heavy for some time, almost awkward, which is why you break out the several bottles of wine you bought this week in an attempt to cope with the end of you and your flower. You’d much rather drink it with him anyway.

You can always buy more.

The wine helps. After you’ve both had a glass, it feels less strained. You continue eating pizza and watching whatever sappy drama is on TV. He picks up on his rant, starts explaining how sex is definitely comparable to pizza; sex creates life, and without sex, we wouldn’t have discovered pizza. Makes total sense. It’s stupid, but he has a point—a very Jungkook thing to think up.

By the time you’re both three glasses deep, you’re a bit wine-drunk. He holds his liquor much better than you do, but you can tell he’s feeling all fuzzy inside. You check your phone as he sits sprawled out on your couch, taking up almost the entire damn thing with his bulky ass. It’s nearly 11:30 pm… around the time he should probably go home.

You glance at him, debating whether to subtly kick him out or not. You don’t want to, god no. It literally makes you sick thinking about it. But you shouldn’t let him stay either, should you? You’re supposed to end this. This was the last night.

But you see how content he looks—like a big, overgrown spoiled dog with a belly full of treats, relaxing next to his favorite person.

You did say one last night… technically the night isn’t over. And he shouldn’t drive in this state, really, if anything, it’s just for his safety…

So you nudge his leg with your foot, and he turns his head lazily towards you, arches a brow, “Hm?”

“Sleep over?”

Oh, he fucking grins. His dimples on show, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and his big bunny like teeth saying hi.

Because what you don’t realize is he wasn’t going to leave. Fuck no. You said one last night, and he was going to milk that for everything it was. No way in hell was he going to go home tonight. If he’s being frank, that’s why he drank three glasses of wine. He didn’t need it. But he knew he could use it as a loophole to staying the night. You wouldn’t let him drive drunk.

He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he’s elated that you offered to let him stay. It means you want him here.

Even after all the bullshit, you still want him here. You want to prolong it, too.

“Hell yeah.”

He winks and then leans up a bit to stretch, causing his shirt to lift and give you the most indulgent peak of his stomach. You shamelessly stare, and he absolutely notices, lifting his arms a bit higher just to give you a better look.

He loves it when you look at him like that.

But then he stands up, casually grabs his car keys from the coffee table, as if he isn’t fucking teasing you.

Fuck. The wine is definitely kicking in. The warm fuzzies in your tummy are spreading elsewhere.

“Gonna go grab some stuff from my car then, make sure it’s locked, I’ll be right back.”

You hum in response and lean back into the couch. Watch him as he walks out the door, and find comfort in the fact that you know he’s coming back… even if it’s the last time.

Jungkook is doing his best not to let his mind wander to the more damning thoughts as he walks out of your complex and into the parking lot. Because he feels the opposite, no comfort at all. His anxiety is spiked now that you’re out of sight. What if you don’t let him in when he makes his way back to you? What if you change your mind about the sleepover? What if you decide you hate him?

Not only that, but he feels like he’s wasting precious time. As if the five minutes he will be away from you (barely) are irreplaceable and he’s just wasting them. It’s literally the end of the world… he shouldn’t be wasting time.

But that’s just his anxiety speaking. In truth, he doesn’t actually need the things in his car… but he packed a few things before showing up unannounced—things he wanted to leave you with.

Such as the little Polaroid camera you bought for him months ago, one that you yourself have used every single time you’re together. You always snap little candid pictures of him, sometimes yourself. He finds your fascination with the thing so fucking cute. He uses it, too, of course. He often takes pictures of you without you even knowing it… and you’ve both definitely taken some more raunchy pictures, pictures that he keeps hidden away in a box for when he misses your touch. For his eyes only. They’re priceless to him, probably some of his most prized possessions.

Speaking of those photos, he also packed a box full of them just for you. Pictures you’ve taken of him, of both of you, of anything and everything. He wants you to have them, wants you to be able to look at them when you miss him a little too much. He went through the photos over the last few days of no contact, greedily picked out his favorites, and put them into his own box for the same purpose. But he picked a generous amount out for you, too.

And as corny as it may sound, he packed a few pieces of his clothing. He knows how much you love stealing his shit, especially his shirts. Several are still missing, but he won’t ask for them back. He’Ll gift you with more, made sure to spray his cologne on them too, so that you can smell him on them. He packed his favorite shirt, hoodie, and something he will reluctantly, but willingly, part with. His denim jacket.

All of them are Calvin Klein branded. The shirt is basic, just a black shirt that’s fitted on him but swallows you whole. It’s the one you often steal when you sleep over at his second apartment, but he never let you take it home because it was his favorite. It’s worn in and soft, that’s why he likes it. But it’s yours now, just like him.

The hoodie is the same, basic black, one that you always tried to steal but never succeeded in doing so. It’ll be like a warm hug when you miss him, he thinks. You’ll love it more than he will. You’ll need it more than him on nights that you feel lonely.

The jean jacket isn’t anything special in appearance. It’s dark denim but is lined in that soft wool that keeps you warm and cozy. He wore it often in the cold months, thought it made him look handsome, but also kept him comfy. He’d rather you have it. He wants to keep you warm forever, hold you in his arms and never let go, make sure you never feel cold again… but he can’t exactly do that. So instead, he’ll give you his jacket.

The last thing is one of his chains. God, he knows you love those damn chains. He almost always wears one, silver or gold, depending on the day. And you always make sure to tell him how much you like them. He never really understood it; it’s something so simple. But you swooned for it. After you guys fuck, you’re always touching it, playing with it. Even when you guys aren’t fucking, you seem to have the impulse to touch it. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he doesn’t know. But he’s giving you one since you liked it so much.

Definitely a girl thing.

He also brought the bottle of perfume you dropped on his floor that night you stormed off… he was going to give it back. Return it to its rightful owner. But as he’s grabbing the bag full of goods out of his car… he impulsively takes it out. Wants to keep it. Wants to be able to smell you, too. He’s sure you won’t miss it.

You won’t miss that perfume as much as he’s going to miss you.

He quickly grabs the bag of stuff, nearly dropping it as he grows more restless because he’s not with you right now. You’re too far away, and every single second counts tonight.

So he rushes back into your complex building, nearly full-on sprinting back to your door.

As he lets himself back in, you’re in the exact same position. Sitting comfy on the couch, eyes on the TV, your wine glass a bit more empty now. Thank fuck.

He wasn’t even gone for more than four minutes. And yes, you did notice, you didn’t like it. But you knew he’d come back. So you waited. Wasn’t a big deal.

He’s just dramatic, for good reason of course. You can see the unease written all over his face as he pads his way back towards you, sets the bag next to your couch. He doesn’t disclose what’s in it and you don’t ask, you just assume it’s the bag he usually keeps in his car for impromptu nights like this.

He doesn’t want to present these little gifts to you yet… because he feels like that’s what’s going to really finalize it. So he’ll wait a little longer.

Would put it off forever if he could.

He takes a seat next to you, obnoxiously close. Your couch isn’t big, but there’s enough for two people to have a comfortable distance from each other. He doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he’s touching you in some way, so he nearly squishes you as he sits down as casually as ever and slings one of his arms on the back of your couch so that his fingertips rest on your shoulder.

He has an almost jittery energy about him right now. Obviously, emotions are heavy; it’s your last night together. It’s kind of hard to act totally ok and normal when you’re both well aware that this is the last night. But even then, somethings a bit off.

You study him for a moment, notice how he’s running his teeth over his lip ring again, how his leg is bouncing up and down a bit even as he tries to mimic a relaxed position on the couch. Maybe he’s anxious?

He is. However, that’s not what this is all about. He wants to kiss and touch you so badly it hurts. But now he’s unsure if he’s allowed. He doesn’t know what’s on and off limits tonight, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize your time together by fucking it up and making unwanted advances.

Overthinking. He wishes he didn’t do that. But he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after things are said and done, doesn’t know how to stop it.

You assume maybe it’s just nervous energy thanks to the impending sense of doom you both feel. You feel similarly… but you hide it better.

More wine would help, you think.

So you lean forward and grab the bottle which is half empty, this is the second bottle of tonight. You top off each of your glasses as Jungkook watches, and you take a sip.

His eyes stay glued to your lips. He loves your lips. Loves all of you, but especially your lips. He thinks that will be one of the things he misses the most. How soft and pillowy they are, how they’re a bit rosey in color, how they taste, how they pout out a bit when you drink wine, how wine stains your lips so prettily, how they feel wrapped around his—

Yeah. Fuck it. One last night.

“Gimmie some.”

You glance at him and arch a brow, wonder if he’s referring to the wine… or maybe pizza? You literally just topped his wine glass off. He’s being weird.

“I just topped you off?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I want yours.”

You scoff at him because now he’s just being childish. But he’s looking at you so expectantly, almost stubbornly, as if he’s asking for something more than the wine he’s demanding.

And he is. He doesn’t even really know what though. He’s being greedy, wants your wine because your lips touched the glass, because remnants of your spit might have melted into the wine after taking sips. He doesn’t want his own damn wine.

He wants to be greedy tonight. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s already lost it all.

So he reaches over and takes the wine glass from you, gets a bit impatient when he sees you aren’t gonna give it to him right away. He takes a slow sip, places his lips in the same exact spot yours have been every time you’ve taken a drink. It’s ridiculous, really… but he swears he tastes the faintest essence of you on the glass. Closes his eyes, swishes the wine around in his mouth, trying to see if he can taste more of you…

Ok, so, he’s definitely being a bit ridiculous. But fuck, he already feels like he’s going crazy. Can’t really help himself when he is desperately craving any little crumb of you.

You don’t know what to make of this. Part of you is amused, part of you is irritated, because he just stole your damn wine. But you also know there must be more to it, there has to be.

He cracks an eye open, sees you staring at him like he’s crazy, because he kinda is. Only for you, of course. He just swallows the wine and shrugs innocently.

“Yours is better, mine tastes weird.”

You roll your eyes at him because he has the same wine as you do. You can’t figure out what his game is here. So you reach over and take his wine and say, “Yours is literally the same as mine.”

To prove a point you take a sip of his. Just as expected, tastes the exact same as yours. He watches you carefully… gets an idea. An incredibly impulsive,almost intrusive idea.

But again… it’s the last night. And he’s greedy.

You huff at him and point his wine glass (which is now yours apparently) at him as you watch him take a huge gulp out of your glass again.

“Yeah, see, tastes the exact-“

He abruptly grabs the nape of your neck and cups your jaw with his free hand, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip and lowering it. He places his lips on yours, waits until your mouth instinctively opens just as it always does for him, and then funnels the wine into your mouth.

Fucking feeding you the wine like a baby bird.

It catches you by surprise at first, causing you to cough a bit and causing the wine to dribble down your chin, but you quickly gulp it down just like he gulps down the little gasp and cough you let out. He kisses you greedily, doesn’t even build up to it before he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth and swirling it against yours, tasting the heady mixture of wine and you. Fuck, you’re his favorite taste.

You don’t protest; of course you don’t. Was definitely a bit bizarre, but also… fuck, that was hot. Was a bit weird but in a super sexy way. You kiss him back, letting out little huffs of air into his mouth as one of your hands also finds the nape of his neck. The other hand automatically rests against his chest, clings to the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You both stay like this as long as possible. The kiss only grows more desperate and aggressive, teeth and tongue clashing beautifully together like thunder and rain. Your soft pants turn into eager breathes at some point, and he knows you need to breathe. But fuck, he wants to stay lip locked with you until he passes out.

This is when you start to second-guess things. Yes, this is the last night together… but knowing it’s ending makes the guilt a bit more prominent. This wouldn’t be ending if it wasn’t wrong, but it is wrong; sleeping with him again just seems so contradictory or maybe even hypocritical.

So you push at his chest lightly, a silent signal for him to slow down. God, he hates the way his stomach lurches. Can’t fathom the idea that you might kick him out right now. Please, god, don’t do this. I’m not a weed, I swear, I’m her fucking flower. I need her one more time, he silently prays even though he’s never been religious or prayed before.

When he pulls back with heavily lidded eyes, you speak up hesitantly, even though you don’t wanna stop, god not at all.

“Kook, we shouldn’t…”

That’s all you say. Because it’s really that simple. You shouldn’t be doing this; you should never have done it at all. But even then, you lack the ability to convince him. Because you want him, one last time. You’re just having a hard time willingly giving in again.

Jungkook knows you well. Knows your body language. He knows that if you truly wanted him to stop, you would’ve been more self assured when speaking. You wouldn’t sound like a meek little mouse, you’d be firm in telling him know. He can see the same thing in your eyes, it’s pure unadulterated want. But maybe you need reassurance, reassurance that one last time is ok, is needed.

You’ve both sinned so much already, one more time won’t change shit.

So his grasp on your jaw firms up a bit, he starts feeling a little too passionate about this. He coaxes your mouth open by smooshing your cheeks a bit before saying,

“Y/N, fucking don’t. Just let us have this, please.”

“But Kook-“

He grunts in frustration. Just as impulsively as he fed you wine kisses, he spits in your mouth. It makes you flinch, makes your pussy clench because fuck it’s so filthy but so hot. So intimate in a sort of fucked up way.

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

He leans back down and starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth and adding more to the spit he put there moments ago. Doesn’t even give you a chance to protest. He kisses you like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. He’s sure he will. He’ll die a miserable death if he doesn’t love you one more time.

It's a bit harsh, but you know each other enough to know he isn’t trying to be forceful or rude; he’s just desperate. You are too, honestly. You know damn well if you said no and meant it, he would pull away and stop immediately. Your body has always been safest with him. You don’t want to stop, not really. You’re thankful he’s being like this. It’s the push you need to ignore the guilt for a while longer and share your body with him one last time.

When he feels that you’ve melted into him, with no more tension or hesitancy in your body, he pulls away, nipping at your lower lip once and then sucking on it. Then his lips travel down, and he licks the wine staining your chin off before placing sloppy kisses down your neck.

He doesn’t even ask before he starts sucking and licking on your sensitive skin. Not kitten licks, not gentle sucks, no, he’s full-on giving you hickeys, and you know it. You know it’s intentional when you feel him pull back a bit to take a peak, only to lean back in a second later and bite.

The hand on his nape fists into his hair, and your back arches a bit, causing your chest to push against his chest, “Fuck, Kook…”

You should tell him to stop marking you up like this. You don’t like showing up to work or visiting friends with visible hickeys because questions get asked. And as much as you wish you could admit who they’re from, you can’t. No one knows about Jungkook. No one even knows you’re seeing someone right now, and you don’t want to have to come up with some story to cover your ass.

It’s a secret for you too.

But it’s the last night together… and the idea of having his hickeys on your neck, just to remind you a little longer that this was real, he was real, it’s an idea you quite like. Fucking love, actually.

He grunts at you, bites down a little harder, “What? Told you your wine was better…”

You let out a little breathy laugh when he says this, because of course he would play it coy, as if he didn’t just randomly start devouring you. Of course he’d blame it on the damn wine.

That breathy laugh quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands finds your tit, he starts squeezing and groping it through your shirt shamelessly, tweaking your nipple in the way he knows you love. God, he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size for him, he swears. They fit into his palm perfectly, feel like pillows, just like your lips. All of you is just so soft.

He kisses his way down your neck now that it’s all marked up in pretty purple and pink bruises blossoming, much like you do every single time he touches you like this. When he gets to your chest, he looks up at you through his lashes, and then he nearly rips your shirt off of you when he pulls it down.

His eyes leave yours as he looks down at the beautiful pillows on your chest. He just admires them for a moment, as if he’s at an art gallery studying each piece of art. That’s what you are, art. Everything about you inside out is otherworldly beautiful to him, tits included.

At this point, you’re lying down on your couch, legs parted for him. It’s a bit awkward because of how small the couch is, but that doesn’t stop either of you. He doesn’t give a fuck that he barely fits. He’ll make himself fit… just like he’s made himself fit into your life for months.

He wants to fit into your life just one more time, one more night, wants to meld together and tangle your roots so that it’s impossible to untangle them. He knows it’s wishful thinking, but that’s where this is all coming from. He’s not being aggressive and eager and greedy just because he’s horny, no, he’s doing this because maybe, just maybe, if he shows you with his body how much he loves you… how much he needs you… you’ll change your mind one day.

His mouth descends on your left breast, and he starts licking and sucking on your nipple. Your eyes roll back, and your entire body shudders at the sensations, fuck, it always feels like the first time. Before him, men didn’t pay such close attention to your body. Never even had a guy play with your tits before, Jungkook was the first. It was so odd at first, but it quickly became one of your favorite things. Makes you get so wet so fast.

You love how he looks up at you when he does it, his eyes full of asters and stars alike, hearts and moons, lust mixed with love and it’s a dizzying sight. You wonder if this is how you look when you go down on him, if that’s why it unravels him so quickly. You’d understand if so, you wish so badly you could snap a picture of him like this and preserve it.

It’s funny because he’s thinking the same thing. How beautiful you look when he goes down on you, how your eyes mimic his own, and how you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions when the pleasure is too intense. His favorite thing is when you start furrowing your brows and almost pouting at him without realizing it; the little pants and mewls you let out without meaning to, it drives him absolutely insane.

He wants to capture it, too. Fuck, tonight is a night to remember, he wants everything solidified in film. Every single kiss and touch and whisper spoken tonight, he needs to preserve it.

He sucks on your nipple for a few more seconds, his other hand flicking the nipple on your right breast. Wants to get you all worked up for him. he then pulls back, letting go of your tit with a wet pop sound. Lets his hands rest on your thighs and rubs his palms up and down them as he takes you in.

You let out a little whine when he pulls away, but you don’t protest. His pupils dilate heavily as he looks down at you because, holy fuck, you’ve never let him mark you up like this. He doesn’t even like giving hickeys, thinks it’s a bit immature, something meant for college. But seeing you blooming pink and purple from your neck down to your pretty tits? It makes his cock twitch hard in his sweats.

He removes one hand from your thigh, and reaches down to palm himself through his sweats. He squeezes his cock as he takes in your already debauched look. Marked up, tits out, lips swollen, eyes heavy… fuck. You may be what kills him, not heart break.

One last squeeze to his cock to relieve a bit of the pressure, and he lets go of it. He knows you’re getting a bit impatient by how you’re shifting in your spot, but you know he wants to take his time tonight. So you don’t say anything, no matter how much you wanna beg for his dick or his mouth.

He leans over the couch to unzip the bag he brought, grabs the Polaroid, and then readjusts himself between your legs. He sets the camera down on your stomach and brings his hands back to where your thighs are spread prettily for him.

You arch a brow, and he gives you a little smile. He still looks a bit fucked, his eyes black with want and his cock literally tenting his sweats. The smile is much too sweet for what you’re both doing.

“Take as many pictures as you want, there’s a full roll of film in there. Can keep ‘em for when you miss me.”

Now is not the time to cry. Fuck.

You nod at him, grab the camera and keep it close. You wonder if he planned this or if it was a coincidence that it was in his bag. Regardless, you’re thankful. Elated even, that he’s going to let you capture this and preserve it for those nights you doubt he was ever even real. There's no time to be sad now; you can grieve him when he’s gone.

He flicks his tongue over his lip ring as he looks down at you again, there’s so much that he wants to do tonight, but he knows damn well the moment his cock so as much touches you, he’s going to lose control. He needs to lavish you with love and attention first before even thinking of himself.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, gently pulls it over your head. You lay pliant, let him take the lead and do whatever he wants. God, anything for him as long as he keeps looking at you like that, like you’re the reason he breathes.

Next he takes off the pajama shorts you had on, slowly fumbling with them because of the awkward position on the couch. It makes you giggle at him, which makes him giggle at you. Now that you’re both a bit calmed down, not quite as worked up, you realize maybe the couch isn’t the most practical place.

Even then, you take the Polaroid and snap a picture, capturing his bashful smile on camera as he tosses your shorts away. He doesn’t protest; he lets you. Watches as you take the photo it spits out and stare at it lovingly before setting it on the coffee table.

His hands are on your thighs again, and despite the fact you’re nearly butt naked now, his eyes stay steady on your face. He reaches forward, grabs the camera from you, and snaps his photo of you. He focuses the Polaroid specifically on your neck to capture the hickies he left, wants to remember you marked as his. He retrieves the photo after the camera spits it out. He doesn’t look at it yet; just tosses it inside of his bag next to the couch.

At your huff and shy little glare you send him, he chuckles, hands you back the camera, and before you can scold him, he lightly swats your thigh. Then he gets off the couch and picks you up bridal style.

It’s hard to be mad at him when he makes you feel like a princess. You don’t actually mind that he took the picture, as embarrassing as it feels. You know it’ll be for his eyes only.

He easily carries you into your bedroom, kicks the door open, and deposits you on your bed. Wasted no time before he’s taking off his shirt and sweats, and fuck, you swear he’s a Greek god. Perfect, in every way. You could drool every damn time you see any bit of his skin. His broad shoulders, his tiny waist, his subtle and toned thighs, it’s a lethal combination. Any woman who sees him like this surely could keel over at how beautiful he is, how sexy he is.

He gets on the bed with you, and you set the camera on the pillow next to your head. He settles between your thighs once more. He can feel himself starting to get impatient now that you’re both in only your underwear; his cock is still hard. Only getting harder as he stares down at you, looking at how pretty you look with your hard nipples glistening with his spit and your soft thighs spread just for him.

He descends, placing open-mouthed kisses on your tummy. Your hands come to rest in his hair as they’ve done many times because you know you’ll need to hang on. You know where this leads, and anytime he eats you out, it’s an out-of-body experience. The things this man’s mouth can do are unholy, but still feel like heaven.

His eyes stay on you as he kisses his way down to your thighs. He nips at them lightly, causing you to whine. He covers your lower half in kisses, not missing a single ounce of your skin as he lavishes your inner thighs with sweet little declarations of love that just aren’t enough.

You lift your hips ever so slightly, tug on his hair a bit, send him a silent message that says please fucking put your mouth on me before I explode.

He smirks against your skin, looks up at you as he trails his lips upward, “Just feel it, baby, let me love on you.”

You want to roll your eyes at this, but don’t say anything. Just try to regulate your breathing. You know he’s wanting to savor it, savor you. He has every right to.

But he knows what you need; can tell by the way you’re scratching his scalp that you’re itching to feel his mouth on you. And if he’s being honest, he’s growing a bit impatient, too.

So he finally trails his lips past your thighs, onto the mound of your cunt which is still covered by your panties. The moment he sees the wet spot seeping through, smells your arousal, his patience disappears. Suddenly, he’s fucking starving.

He doesn’t even take your panties off before he starts kissing your cunt, sucking on your clit through the fabric. The feeling makes your body nearly jolt, your hips bucking into his face as you tug on his hair and let out an incredibly strained moan. Fuck. So much for taking it slow and dragging it out.

He becomes a man possessed once he tastes you. He’s letting out grunts as he borderline makes out with your panties, suckling the fabric to get every drop of your essence off of them and onto his tongue. It’s genuinely filthy, debauched, but god, it’s hot.

He leans back with flared nostrils and glistening lips, looking like he’s wearing lipgloss. Made specially by you, of course. He nearly rips your panties off and throws them into the pile containing his clothes at the end of the bed.

A coincidence, he tells himself. He’s totally not planning on ‘accidentally’ taking them home with him… not at all.

He leans back down, grabs your thighs, and props them over his shoulders as he maneuvers himself to lay flat on his stomach on the bed, his knees keeping him steady as he presses his face into your pussy.

He inhales you, takes in your scent. So musky and pretty, so uniquely you. He wishes he could bottle it up and wear it as a fucking cologne. He rubs his nose around in it, nudging your clit back and forth, almost as if he’s motor-boating you but instead of your tits, it’s your cunt.

God, it’s lewd. But he can’t get enough.

You already feel yourself becoming a little too turned on but wanna capture this moment. Wanna preserve how fucked he looks when he does shit like this, only ever for you. So you grab the Polaroid with one shakey hand that leaves his hair, and you snap a quick photo. It comes out a bit blurry, but you don’t mind. You place the camera back on the pillow alongside the fresh photo and have to double down on gripping his hair because, holy fuck, this feels so good.

His tongue finds your entrance and starts licking inside, trying to get every last drop of your cream greedily into his mouth. He uses his nose to stimulate your clit, one of the perks of having a big nose. He’s grunting as he licks into your cunt, almost sounds feral doing so. He doesn't even recognize his own voice with the damn noises he's making.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, watching this all unfold has you dangerously close already. Your thighs are quivering on his shoulders, and your toes are curling along his back. The way he’s breathing into your pussy, sucking and licking and nudging it with his nose, fuck, it has you a mess. The noises you’re making you can’t control; you’re starting to sound just as feral as him.

“Mmmph… Koo… gonna cum soon, slow down…”

You babble at him. You wanna cum so bad, but you also don’t want it to stop so soon. If you had one wish at this very moment, it would be that he does this forever. He looks so lovely in between your thighs, licking and sucking you up as if it’s his last meal.

Because it is his last meal. After this night, he’s gonna be starving for eternity without you.

He huffs out a little laugh against your clit, the hot air causing your back to arch and fingers to tighten in his hair; if he doesn’t ease up, your thighs are surely going to crush his damn head.

“Cum then. Fucking give it to me, Y/N. Let me earn it.”

He nearly growls at you before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He replaces his tongue, which was deep in your cunt, with his fingers. He uses his mouth now to suck on your clit. As you look down at him, you’d swear he was kissing it, making out with it, making love with his fucking mouth. The added pressure of two of his long fingers crooking inside of you is quickly bringing you to your end.

But what nearly makes you cum on the spot is the way he starts fucking humping the bed. Acting like a virgin humping a pillow, he moves his hips back and forth on the mattress just for some sort of stimulation to his cock because it started getting so hard it was damn near painful.

He knows how desperate he looks but doesn’t care. Clearly, you enjoy it, judging by the way you start panting, and your pussy starts pulsating and tightening around his fingers. They fuck into you harder, rubbing up against the spongy flesh inside, all while he makes out with your clit.

His eyes open to meet yours, and you’re done for. Seeing that desperation and love in his eyes mixed with the fact he’s fucking humping your bed makes your pussy throb. You begin cumming hard, tugging on his hair as your thighs clasp around his head. He damn near whines into your cunt, the noise only causing vibrations to make it so much more intense for you.

“Nnngh oh shit! Fuck, oh fuck Koo… oh my god, shiiit…”

Your hips buck up into his mouth eagerly; you can’t even control it. Your feet planted on his back, toes curling, thighs trembling around his face, and your face scrunched up in pleasure. You see stars- no- you see an entire fucking galaxy as you cum all over his face. Full of stars, moons, planets, gardens, all of which are full of him and every single fiber of his being.

All for him, just as he is all for you.

He fucks you through it, does his best to prolong it, but he knows he’ll make you cum again on his cock. He is aching to be buried inside of you. He wants to make love to you, not fuck you, he wants to meld your bodies together and become one tonight.

After what feels like forever, your body relaxes, and the spasming of your clit dies down, causing it to become sensitive. He can tell by the way your legs shake and your body jolts when he applies too much pressure with his tongue.

He reluctantly pulls back, licking your juices off of his lips before placing little kisses all over your thighs and pelvis. He looks fucked, his nose and his lips are glistening obscenely in the dim lighting, and his eyes don’t look brown anymore but black.

When your eyes travel downward, you whine at him. His cock is nearly tearing through his underwear, which you now realize he’s wearing your fav, the purple CK’s. There’s a little stain where the head of his cock presses, so much precum, all for you.

He looks down where your eyes are trained, and he snorts at himself. Jesus fuck, he really is acting like a desperate teenager, isn’t he? But he can’t find himself giving a shit. He wants you to know how desperate and unhinged you make him. He can’t say he’s ever been so horny he borderline fucked a mattress, not until now. And it’s all because of you.

He takes off his underwear with shaky hands and tosses them somewhere in your room. Then he settles between your legs again, rubbing up and down your thighs as he takes you in as if it’s the first time.

Your hands come up to his chest, scraping your nails down it slowly, which earns you the most beautiful groan from his lips. He bites down on them, and his cock jumps upward, begging to be touched. So you trail your hands lower until you find his aching length and take it into your hand, start stroking him lazily.

His breathing becomes labored, and his eyes flutter shut. Even just your hand feels so fucking good. His hips jerk forward, seeking more stimulation. Fuck, he can’t get enough.

One of his hands remains on your thigh while the other reaches for the camera. He boldly angles it directly at your cunt, snaps a photo of it, making sure to capture the way your slick folds glisten in the light, along with all of the purple flowers blossoming on your thighs. His tattooed hand is barely in the shot but is visible enough to make it clear it is him in this photo.

He tosses the photo in the same pile his clothes and your panties lay next to the bed, and then angles the camera towards your face and body to take another. He thinks you’re so pretty like this. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy because you always bite them right before you cum, eyes bright with afterglow. You look like an Angel, especially in this moment.

He’s sure you’re an Angel sent from the God he doesn't even believe in.

He snaps another photo and tries to steady his shaky hands because the way you’re stroking his cock feels borderline painful. Too slow; he needs more. Beads of precum drip down his cock as if it’s crying. It may as well be crying for you.

He quickly takes the photo, tosses it in the same pile, and then does the same with the camera without thinking. Is getting way too worked up with how you’re stroking his dick and looking at him like a Greek god.

Because he is one. You’ll say it time and time again.

He leans over your body and settles in between your legs. You remove your hand and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in his hair again. He grinds his cock onto your pussy, coating it in the remnants of your cum and juices, and starts kissing you slowly.

The kiss isn’t like the one with wine; this one is sweet, loving, still desperate, but more patient. His lips work with you in unison, your puzzle pieces coming together once more. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you moan into his mouth, which causes his cock to twitch against your pussy. God, he loves the sounds that you make. Music to his ears, he’d play it on repeat if he could.

He slowly drags the tip of his cock down to your entrance which is well prepared for him, and even more slowly starts thrusting inside of you. He wants to feel you deeply, feel every ripple and ridge of your pussy, every pulse and throb. He wants to catalog it and replay it over and over in his head for when he misses you.

Jungkook is definitely gifted when it comes to his manhood. It’s not too long, a good seven and a half inches, but fuck he’s so girthy. When you first fucked him, you could barely handle how thick he was. Nowadays, you can absolutely handle it, but that first push always gets you fucking squirming. The pressure and stretch are nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

You let out a stuttered gasp into his mouth when he buries himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass, and he stays there for a moment so that you can adjust. You break the kiss, wincing a bit as you turn your face to try and hide the way it scrunches up as it always does the first few moments he’s inside of you.

He doesn’t like that. Not at all.

He pulls his face back from yours and steadies himself on his elbow as one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw. He turns your face towards him, doesn’t let you look away or try to hide.

“Uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck you. I wanna see every single detail of your pretty face if this is the last time I get you like this.”

You whine at him, your eyes fluttering shut and cheeks warming. For some reason, that’s embarrassing, like being called out for talking in class or some shit. But even then, your pussy clenches around his cock, because you love it when he takes control like that, when he makes it clear what he wants.

He shakes your jaw a bit when he notices you closing your eyes, causing them to open instinctively. He looks just as fucked as you do, his nostrils are flared, and he’s sweating slightly, clearly holding back.

“Eyes on me, Y/N. Don’t you fucking dare look away. Look me in my eyes while I make love to you.”

Fuck. It takes every single bit of strength you possess not to cry. There he goes, voicing the fact that tonight isn’t going to be some hard fuck. It’s making love.

That terrifies you.

Making love is something entirely different compared to fucking. Some people disagree, but you don’t. Fucking is mindless, meant for pleasure and pleasure alone. Sometimes, there's intimacy after, but it’s mostly just sex. Making love, of course, comes with pleasure, but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to come together with your partner, show each other how much you love them, let all of your emotions run wild and free while sharing the most intimate parts of your body together.

Fucking is like buying a bouquet of roses. You get to see them, water them, keep them on display, but the joy dies quickly because the roses die, too.

Making love is like growing a garden of roses. You can’t make love until you grow that love with someone; nurture it, watch it morph and evolve. And then the flowers bloom. The love bursts, the petals are vibrant in colors made up of you and your partner.

Both are lovely. Everyone loves buying a bouquet of roses, but few get to experience growing their own.

You’ve never made love. Tonight will be the first time.

And it will probably be the last.

You nod at Jungkook stupidly, keeping your eyes on his just as he asked you to. Once he sees your eyes remaining on him, he starts slowly moving his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, your arousal can clearly be heard by the noises your cream coating his cock every time he slides in and out makes. It’s beautiful.

This is beautiful… and so goddamn tragic.

He’s also fighting tears. Because, unlike you, he has made love before… or thought he did. He swore on his wedding night he made love to his wife, but it was nothing like this. You’ve barely even started, and he can feel the stark difference. God, it makes him question fucking everything. He never felt this way with his wife, with anyone, only ever with you.

But now isn’t the time to think of such things, to dissect the fact that maybe what he had with his wife was never actually love, but comfort. Now is the time to share your love together, one last time.

He starts moving his hips a bit faster. His arms reach under your body and wrap around you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He rests his forehead on yours, keeps his eyes on yours, too. He starts panting, is fighting back tears. He is trying so hard not to cry right now.

“I love you.”

Fuck.

You let out another stuttered breath, and then your breathing picks up entirely as you fight back tears. Your arms are wrapped around him now, nails digging into his back like you’re afraid he will float away. Because you are, you’re so scared that if you let go, he will disappear. You don’t want him to disappear.

He starts pounding a bit deeper, grunting with each deep thrust as he grits out again,

“I love you.”

Fuck he needs to stop.

“Jungkook— nngh… don’t…”

He shakes his head, his breathing heavier, and his thrusts bordering on aggressive now. That’s not abnormal for him; sex with you both is regularly rough. But this is so different. It isn’t the dominating kind of aggressive but desperate, full of passion and love and grief.

“No, Y/N, look at me. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I love you.”

And you break.

Crying for you also isn’t abnormal during sex with him specifically. It’s always intense, so sometimes you cry. Not out of sadness or pain; it just happens sometimes. He came to learn that quickly.

But just like how he’s making love to you, these tears are different. You’re weeping for the loss of your lover, but also because you are still so full of love for him. You’re crying because for the first time since this mess started between you, you believe him when he says he loves you. Deep down in your core, in every single crack and crevice of your being, you feel his love for you.

You see it in his eyes as he looks at you, you feel it in the way he touches and kisses you, you hear it in the way he speaks to you when he says it. He loves you so fucking much, and you regret refusing to see it until your last night together. You wish so badly you could have savored his love more seriously rather than deny yourself of it.

You wish things were different.

So you cry for him. The moment the first tear falls, you don’t hold back. You let out something between a moan and a sob as he fucks his cock into you, and his hips stutter when he realizes you’re crying. He didn’t want you to cry, fuck, he doesn’t think he can handle that right now without crying himself. He just wanted you to know, needed you to know that you are loved by him. So fucking loved.

He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the tears fall. He tilts his head slightly and starts kissing the tears away, even as they continue to fall. Greedily kisses them away because they are for him. This will be the last time you water his fully bloomed flower, so he will be greedy. Because he knows that after this, his flower will wilt away, maybe he will, too. So he lets you cry and he kisses and fucks you through it.

He feels himself getting close, his cock starting to twitch and his hips grinding harder into your pelvis. He feels you getting close, too, the way your cunt starts pulsing in rhythm with his cock. You’ve never come at the same time before. He hopes that tonight, he can make it happen.

“Fuck, you feel like home… I love you so much…”

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his words. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, can’t get the words out of his mouth enough. You’ve yet to say it back because you’re afraid his glittery eyes will water, too. But god, you need him to know.

“I love you too, Koo… more than anything…”

And you were right. Hearing you say it amidst your tears, combined with the way your pussy starts rippling around his cock, throbbing and clenching directly after you say it, it’s too much.

He cries. Tries to hide it with a moan, but it’s no use because his tears fall onto your cheeks. You both start crying harder, and he starts fucking you faster. His arms tighten around your waist, and he starts kissing you. Lets you taste your melded tears, his sorrow, his devotion, his love all poured out into this kiss and his tears.

You both water each others flower for the last time.

You feel the familiar pressure building as you kiss him back, your tears mixing with his, the taste addicting. You hate seeing him cry; you know it’s going to haunt you for weeks. But right now, you’re consumed with wanting to be as close to him as possible, and you want to share this moment with him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hips start matching his thrusts. The kiss turns a bit sloppy and uncoordinated because he’s very clearly about to cum; you can feel his cock start twitching and pulsing aggressively inside of you.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you. I. Love. You.”

He groans loudly, his voice sounds strained and distraught. “Come with me.”

You assume he means he wants you to cum at the same time as him. He wants you to cum together, which is definitely going to happen; you feel the string about to snap on both sides.

But really, it had dual meaning. Cum with me, but also come with me. Anywhere, everywhere, please run away with me, please love me forever and ever, please save a piece of your heart for me, please don’t stay away from me forever.

One last thrust and his pelvis grinds into yours as his balls draw up taught. He whimpers into your mouth, and his pelvis grinding into you, mixed with how fucking deep his cock is inside of you, is enough stimulation to your clit to cause you to hurl over the edge a second time. You cream all over his dick, your hips writhing beneath him as you whine and moan into his mouth. His cock jerks hard inside of you, shooting hot ropes of cum that seem endless. Your souls meld together much like your tears do, and you both cum harder than you ever have.

It’s like, in this moment, you are one. You both share a garden, flowers at full bloom, no pesky cages or fences to hinder you from flourishing together. There’s sunlight, and bees, and soil, and plenty of water. It’s peaceful, it’s heaven, it’s home. It’s where you both swear you belong.

Both of your orgasms seem to last eternally. It’s endless, his cock jerking and spurting in rhythm to the way your pussy milks him and pulses around him. He stays buried to the hilt until his cock tires out and your pussy stops milking him.

Even after, he stays like this. You both say nothing as you silently cry together, still connected intimately as you share little kisses between tears.

You made love. He made love to you.

You know damn well you’re ruined for any other man going forward after that.

He exhales a shaky breath and starts peppering your face with little kisses. Despite the tears, he feels lighter than before. There’s still that impending sense of doom, but he knows in his heart that you know he loves you now. That’s all he wanted from tonight…

And despite the sex being pretty vanilla compared to what you usually do, Jesus fuck, that was the best sex he’s ever had.

As he attempts to kiss all of your tears away, he starts whispering the sweetest shit to you, even as he continues crying.

“My baby…”

Kiss.

“My love…”

Kiss.

“My pretty girl…”

Kiss.

“My angel…”

Kiss.

“My heart…”

Kiss.

“My soul…”

Kiss.

“My fucking everything…”

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Fuck, it makes you swoon hearing all of those sweet words. Not sweet nothings, but sweet declarations. Pure truth. You are and have been his everything despite how fucked up it all is.

You always will be. Fucking always.

You cry a bit harder, nearly blubbering now. He keeps crying, too, not quite as hard as you because he doesn’t want this to be harder for you than it already is… but he knows the moment he leaves you in the morning, he will cry twice as hard.

You realize you’re still clinging to him; there are definitely going to be red marks all over his back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried inside of you because that’s where you swear he belongs. He would agree with you.

But you remove your hands from his back and bring them to cup his face, and you feel so fucking drained from the intense sex and crying and the entire goddamn rollercoaster of today… but you don’t want it to end. Fuck, you’re so afraid for it to end.

You place a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you. I really do. Always have, always will, forever and ever…”

He smiles sadly down at you, nods. Because he knows. He never once doubted how much you loved him; every single time he was with you, he felt your love. Even when you were mad at him, you made him feel loved. He wishes so badly that he could’ve made you feel as secure as you made him feel.

You will never know how utterly thankful for you he is.

“I know baby, I know…”

You let out another choked sob and bury your face in his neck. He lifts himself off of you slightly, and he moves himself so that he’s lying beside you instead of on top of you. You cling to him again, refuse to let him go. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Can’t fucking bear it.

He gently slips his cock out of you and then wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to cup the back of your head and stroke his fingers through your hair, the other rubbing your back soothingly.

You cry and cry and cry. It’s pitiful how hard you’re crying; if anyone saw you right now, they’d be certain someone had died. It really feels that way, as if he’s dying while holding you right now. He feels like he’s dying watching you crumble like this, but he doesn’t dare stop you.

He doesn’t even reassure you because all that would do is give you false hope for something that may not happen ever again. For all you know, after this, you will never cross paths. He may just become a ghost to you…

A flower that bloomed in the spring and died come winter.

There were so many things you wanted to do tonight. You wanted to shower together, wash his hair for him, show him how to bake those cookies you know he loves, stay up and talk about a bunch of pointless shit, rewatch your favorite movies together, fuck a few more times, choke on his dick one last time, kiss him and touch him all over all night. So so so much more.

You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted to stay awake and savor every last second together just as greedily as him. But god, as you sob in his arms, you feel yourself growing so heavy with exhaustion that you can’t keep your eyes open.

“Don’t let me fall asleep, Koo, make me stay awake…”

He buries his face in your hair, his tears making wet patches in your strands. He inhales deeply just to get another whiff of your shampoo, fuck, he needs to figure out which one it is before he leaves so he can buy it and use it. Doesn’t even care if it’s weird. Wants to smell like you. Wants to be surrounded by reminders of you forever.

Like you, he’s been crying this whole time but so quiet that you don’t even realize it. He made sure you wouldn’t realize it. This is your time to get comfort from him, he can’t offer you reassurance, but he damn sure can comfort you through the pain that is his fault.

“Rest, baby… I’m here…”

You shake your head at him, keep your face buried in his neck even as your eyes start to lull shut.

“No, slap me, keep me awake… don’t wanna… sleep… please…”

He can feel your body start to go limp, can feel your tears running down his neck. He knows you’ll be out cold soon. You were fighting a battle you just couldn’t win, and god he wishes he could keep you awake. But he knows you’re emotionally overloaded right now…

And maybe if you fall asleep in his arms, you’ll rest peacefully for tonight. You deserve that, he thinks. You deserve so much peace and happiness.

“It’s ok Y/N… I got you. Just sleep. My baby needs rest, hm?”

You try so fucking hard to respond. But he’s right; you’re fighting a losing battle. Your body can’t keep up with your brain to the point you’re slurring your words. Maybe it’s the after-effects of a fight or flight response because it really felt like you were fighting for your love when making love tonight… fighting to keep hold of his roots as they slowly became untwined from yours. And now, you’re simply too tired.

“I… I love you… so… much…”

He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. Holds you a little tighter. Because, fuck, your last words before lulling into a deep sleep were that you loved him. It’s as it should be, but for some reason, it wrecks him, knowing that this is the last time he will hear them.

When your breathing evens out, he pulls back, stares at you. Your brows are furrowed even in sleep, clearly troubled. But you don’t stir and your grip on him loosens. You are so fucking beautiful. He wishes so badly he could just stay like this, watching you rest, in your arms while you’re in his.

Holding each other, as if you’re both one person instead of two.

He knows he won’t sleep tonight. He’s just as overwhelmed as you, but instead of his body shutting down, his adrenaline has spiked. He’s dreading leaving this bed, dreading leaving you.

He stares for an almost pathetic amount of time. Just lays beside you and takes in every soft detail of your face, traces his fingertips over your features. He finds himself wondering, what if he married you instead? What if you met sooner? What if you lived with him and had his babies one day?

What if… he left his wife?

He has to stop himself there. He makes a pained noise and buries his face in your hair again because he knows he can’t think like that. He could leave his wife; he probably should, but he feels like he owes her his life, his devotion. He married her, for fucks sake.

And even if he did leave, he doubts you’d ever be capable of having a healthy and stable relationship. People in these situations rarely do; it’s a form of karma, he thinks. Husbands who cheat and marry their mistresses often get cheated on, or they end up do it again.

He swears, fucking swears on his life that he would never do that to you. But he knows you probably wouldn’t trust him; any woman in your situation wouldn’t. You’d always be left wondering if he’d turn around and do the same to you one day.

Oh, Jungkook, how badly you’ve fucked up…

He has no idea how much time has passed by the time he checks the little alarm clock on your bedside table. He honestly can’t recall when he got here or what time ‘one more night’ started, but as of now, it’s 5 am.

He wants to stay. Wants to fall asleep holding you, wake up and make you breakfast, draw you a cozy bath and massage your back for you… wants to treat you as a lover would.

But he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon, he won’t leave at all. The moment you open your eyes, he will beg again. He will cry and beg and plead for you to change your mind.

Which is way too selfish, considering he’s still a coward, still unwilling to leave his wife both out of fear and knowing the reality of what happens once he does.

So he places one last kiss on your forehead, breathes you in one last time, and then quietly extracts himself from your hold. Standing up and getting off the bed, he looks down at you.

He swears he can see the exact place you keep his stolen heart inside of you. He doesn’t want it anymore, it’s yours. Always will be.

He slowly starts dressing himself again with robotic-like motions. He isn’t crying anymore; he feels kind of numb at this point, or maybe his tears have just run out.

Acceptance? Or the calm before the storm? He isn’t sure.

He doesn’t bother taking a shower; can’t be bothered right now even if he smells like sex… smells like your sex specifically. He can blame it on being lazy, but he knows it’s because he wants your smell to linger a bit longer. He will shower later.

Once fully dressed he pads his way into the living room, grabs the bag full of stuff he packed for you. He takes it back into your bedroom and sits it at the end of the bed.

He carefully collects each Polaroid he took of you for himself and stuffs them in his wallet for safekeeping. After nearly considering changing his mind and taking the camera greedily, he decides he’ll leave it for you, even though it was a gift you got him. He knows you love it, but also knows you’d never buy one for yourself. And if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think he could ever use it again without thinking of you. It would feel wrong to use it without you.

So he sets that on the end of the bed. He opens the bag, carefully takes out the clothing he packed for you, folds them, and arranges them in a neat pile. Next, he takes out the box of Polaroids; he made sure to put a label on it before coming that said ‘For Y/N.’ He sets the box next to the clothes and then carefully places the chain he packed on top of the pile of clothes.

He wants to arrange it almost as a surprise, hoping it’ll feel more like a gift and not so much like a goodbye this way.

Now that the bag is empty, his intrusive thoughts return. He wants so badly to turn into a little thief and take some of your stuff, too. You would have gladly offered it to him, anything he wanted, but you’re asleep. And he can’t stay much longer.

His intrusive thoughts win, and he can’t find himself feeling too guilty.

So he reaches down and grabs the panties you had on earlier, the same panties that he sucked on like a damn popsicle, and he puts them in the bag.

He quietly makes his way into your bathroom, looks around for a moment until he finds exactly what he’s looking for: the star pimple patches. He takes them, noticing that they’re in a cute little case with a face on it. He knows you love these things; they make pimples feel less like some kind of imperfection. He loves them, too. They remind him of a time when you showered him with love.

You won’t miss them, he thinks again. Not as much as he’ll miss you.

He greedily holds onto them, looks around to see if there’s anything else he can steal. He sees your scarf hanging on the back of your bathroom door; it was the scarf you wore one of the first times he took you to dinner. It’s honestly kind of ugly; it’s a dark and muted plaid, but you loved it because of how soft and warm it is.

It smells very strongly of you.

It’s his now.

He takes the scarf and decides that’s enough. He’s greedy, but he’s not an actual thief. Maybe more like a rat. As much as he wants to steal your shampoo, he decides just to make a mental note of the name because he knows you'll need it to shower when you wake up.

He stuffs the patches and scarf into the same bag and stands before you on the bed. Fuck. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave you.

But now is the perfect time; you’re sleeping soundly, dead to the world. If he leaves like this, there will be no hysterical begging or crying from either party.

Still, he finds himself procrastinating. He decides to open the box of Polaroid photos he packed just to make sure none of the ones he kept for himself snuck their way in. They didn’t. He knows they didn’t. But never hurts to double-check.

He comes across one photo in particular… it was a photo he took one night after you both had some very intense sex. He rented a motel that night because he was in Busan for business, and of course, he dragged you along with him. Busan is his hometown, and his wife has always hated it. She was born and raised in Seoul and always claims Busan is too boring, not lively enough. She always refused to go with him, even if it was to visit his parents.

You, on the other hand, you were so fucking excited to go. You talked his ear off the entire ride there, and once you arrived, you were so interested in everything around you. It was so fucking sweet because you told him the reason you were so excited was because it was a part of him. He was born here, which makes the place sacred. It was dramatic, but god, it was precious.

After you guys fucked that night, you both showered together. You got out of the shower before him, and you snapped a few pictures with the Polaroid; he made sure to put those in the box for you. At some point after, you were lying in the bed watching some cartoon on the motel TV, and he was smoking a cigarette. He noticed a vivid handprint from where he was slapping your ass while fucking you from behind. It was the first time he wasn’t really concerned about it, but proud. Because in some fucked up way, he marked you, even if it was temporary. You were his, and even if you doubted it, he was yours.

It was the same feeling he got tonight when giving you those hickeys. Just a little reassurance that you belong to him.

He took the photo to kind of solidify the feeling, preserve it. It was very aesthetically pleasing. One of his favorites, he’s realizing. He almost wants to take this one.

But instead, he decides to leave it with you, and before he does so he grabs a pin from your desk and writes:

I won’t let you forget us

-Kook

It’s cryptic, he knows. Maybe it’s selfish to leave a message like that… but perhaps it’ll keep you open for him. Not that he expects you to wait for him to get his shit together, god never. But maybe you’ll allow him to check on you now and then, maybe you won’t block his number, maybe, just maybe, you’ll save a piece of your heart for him…

He sets the photo down on top of the pile of folded clothes and steps back. He looks at the clock again, sees that it’s now 5:50 am. He has no idea how time passed that quickly because it only felt like maybe ten minutes had passed. He must have been moving slowly; his brain must have realized how much he was fighting this inevitable end.

As he stares down at your sleeping form, he genuinely considers staying. Considers refusing to leave.

And that’s exactly why he chooses this moment to leave. He has to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid.

He walks over to you once more, leans down, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your chin, and starts peppering your face with kisses all over again. His heart is pounding fast, and he has the urge to run. With one last kiss to your lips, he yanks himself away and grabs the bag now full of items that don’t belong to him.

He wants to take in your space one last time, wants to linger and look around because this has been his safe space for literal months. But he fucking can’t. He feels his resolve weakening quickly by the second and knows one more second here, and he won’t leave.

He quickly makes his way out of your apartment, is nearly panting as he walks out of your complex and down to his car. His hands are shaking, his heart is beating at a scary pace, and he starts to feel fucking sick.

He borderline throws the bag in his back seat, and then gets into his car quickly. His hands shake so severely that he fumbles with his keys as he starts the engine. The moment the car turns on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t acceptance. It was indeed the calm before the storm.

He’s never felt like this before. He feels nauseous and almost panicky as he drives robotically down the morning streets of Seoul. His breathing is coming in so fast he gets dizzy.

It all hits him at once. This is the end. FIN. Over.

He swears he feels his flower die at that very moment. It wasn’t uprooted and moved to another garden; someone fucking stepped on his fully bloomed Bearded Iris. One second he was thriving, flourishing, and now he’s fucking dead.

He doesn’t even recognize the sounds of his own choked sobs as he drives down the street. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking see. He feels like he’s dying, truly, he almost considers calling for help because he feels so full of despair and grief.

But who would he call? His wife? That's a fucking joke. You? He can't call you anymore. He can't call his friends either because none of them know. He's on his fucking own now.

Nothing could have prepared him for what it feels like to grieve the death of a love who is still alive.

He ends up pulling into a random parking lot once he’s a safe distance from your apartment. He slams his palms on his steering wheel and just fucking bawls. Tears fog his eyes, and he sounds almost childish because of the force in which he’s crying.

He knew the day he lost you would be the day that that he died. And right now, he is dying for you.

It isn’t until 10 am that you stir awake. You instinctively reach for him, but your hands only find cold sheets, meaning he left a while ago…

You didn’t expect him to leave so soon. You expected to be able to wake up to him one last time, so you’re disappointed when you realize his clothes aren’t on the floor anymore, and you don’t hear the sounds of him awake and making coffee in the kitchen.

But you suppose that was a smart move. If he had stayed, it would have just made it harder for you both, most likely.

You feel oddly… numb. As of now, no sadness. The only thing you feel is almost like a little zap in your chest; it’s subtle, to the point you aren’t even sure if it’s really there.

It’s off. Somethings not quite right.

You ignore the weird hollow feeling as you sit up and stretch; you realize you never showered, and you smell heavily of sex. So you get out of bed, and you make your way into your bathroom. You start the shower after using the bathroom, and as you wait to warm it up, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Fuck.

You are literally littered with marks. Your neck, all the way down to your chest, all the way down to your thighs. Purple and pink love bites all over you. He seriously fucked you up.

You feel that zap again.

You shake your head and tear your eyes away from the mirror, don’t notice how your star patches are missing from your skincare tub on your bathroom counter yet. You step inside the shower and spend a good while letting the hot water wash over your body, washing the remnants of sex and sweat off of your skin.

After about half an hour, you step out. Dry off. Get dressed. That’s when you walk back into your bedroom and notice the pile of clothing sitting on your bed. Clothing that isn’t yours.

You slowly approach it and quickly recognize the strong scent lingering on it: his cologne. You unhurriedly pick up each piece of clothing, see the shirt and hoodie you often attempted to steal from him, accompanied by one of his favorite jackets.

He left pieces of himself for you.

Zap.

You set them aside and pick up the chain and photo. Fuck, you love his chains. You always loved them because, one, they’re fucking hot, and two, you loved how they would dangle above you when he was fucking you. You doubt he realized it, but sometimes you’d bite it as he was fucking you, tug on it like a damn dog playing with their favorite chew toy just to see if it would break. It never did, and you never stopped being fascinated with his jewelry.

Zap.

You look at the photo and immediately recall the memory. Busan, now one of your favorite places, all because of him. It was such a good little trip. You tried a lot of street food you never had before, saw a lot of pretty things, and he fucked you beautifully that night. It was rough, passionate, and he left hand prints on your ass, and much like him, you loved it. This was one of your favorites, for sure.

But then you read the note.

I won’t let you forget us.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

You drop the photo and the chain on top of the clothes, let out a shaky breathe. Still, you aren’t really feeling much, maybe a bit of nostalgia accompanying the zaps… but no despair, no yearning or grieving…

Calm before the storm.

You decide you need some coffee and painkillers. You have a lingering migraine from all of the wine and crying last night, so you leave your bedroom and make your way into the kitchen.

You start making your coffee and swallow the painkillers dry. You lean against the counter as your coffee brews, then freeze when you look at the floor.

The purple wild flower lays there, stepped on by he-who-shall-not-be-named’s boot. Wilted and destroyed, the petals disconnected from the stem.

The flower is dead.

And now you break.

Those zaps you were feeling, you suddenly understand. It was your fight or flight kicking in again, and instead of your brain responding to it, it blocked it out.

Can’t fight it now.

You drop to your knees, start breathing heavily because you feel like someone placed bricks on your chest. Your heart aches, literally, it hurts, it feels like it’s going to explode and you feel like you can’t breathe at all.

You start crying again… no- you’re fucking wailing. You’re crying out for the loss of your flower, for the death of a lover who isn’t even dead, much like Jungkook had earlier.

It finally hits you that he isn't coming back. He's gone, and now, you're expected to move on. Your heart aches for him. Without him, do you even have a heart?

No, you really don’t, not right now anyway. The moment he stepped out that door, he took it with him. He fucking stole your heart just like he stole your pimple patches and perfume.

All you can do is cry for him, except right now, you don’t have him to cling to for empty comfort. Instead, you reach for the dead wildflower, hold it in your palm, bring it to your chest, and cradle it close as if you can somehow bring it back to life.

Bring him back to you.

Little do you know, he’s currently curled up in his bed at his second apartment. He hasn’t stopped crying since he left. He went back home, took the stolen perfume, and sprayed it all over his damn bed, and now he’s hugging a pillow as if it’s you. Imagining that it’s you, that this is all just a horrible dream, and he will wake up soon.

Both of you are lovers, stars who collided, planets who aligned, flowers who grew side by side.

But it was at the wrong time. And now you’re paying the consequences of your paths crossing when they shouldn't have.

So far away in the matter of hours when you were once so close, yet you’re both doing the exact same thing; clinging to shreds of each other and wishing so fucking badly that things could be different.

Both of you left each other without returning your hearts. Both of your flowers got stepped on instead of uprooted and re-planted somewhere safer.

Spring has passed, no longer bees buzzing and flowers blooming, but the cold harsh winter is coming.

It will be a while before either of you bloom again, if at all.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #18+ only #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #i love jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction

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leoserblog · 10 months

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Ok this might be an unpopular opinion but someones gotta say it...

Cassandra is a better Casey Jones than Casey Jr

Ive gotta be honest... i think casey jr is a kinda mid and i dont particularly think all the fanfare about him is warranted LOL

I want to note real quick that i dont DISLIKE him! He is a good character who only got as much development that a 2 hour movie could give him, and he filled and satisfied the role he needed to play in the movie, but the way the fandom latched onto him over the og casey... kinda makes me raise a brow

(Essay/rant about the prioritization of casey jr vs og casey under the cut :P)

Fandom spaces love a traumatized boy from the future, and believe me i do too! But the amount of attention given to casey jr after being revealed as casey is a wild amount compared to the amount of attention the original casey gets. Maybe its just me getting into rottmnt after the movie aired, but this seems a little baised?

Not only that, but the amount of... idk the best way i can think to describe it is infantilization of casey jrs character isnt helping my opinion of him. It feels like most content surrounding him babify him and reduce him only to his trauma post movie. I understand that it can be interesting to explore his trauma now that he no longer lives in the literal apocalypse, but it feels strange to see him reduced to someone who cant get around on his own and lives with the turtles when the original pitch for the movies ending has him leave to explore the world, which i feel is very appropriate for him and wish they had kept it in

In the movie when april shows us where the og casey has been and what shes been doing throughout the film, it tells us that casey is friends april which in theory, shouldve also shown us that she and the turtles are friends to some degree as well and should already have her place established within the group as this generations casey jones

However the final shot of the movie is a group shot of the family+casey jr, which subtlety implies that he's the new casey instead, and that this is the main cast moving forward (should it move forward *sob*). While both caseys being considered in the main cast could be true, it does strike me as a little odd that this was the final direction the rot team decided on for the official ending versus the scrapped ending, especially because it complicates the pre-established canon. It wouldve been one thing if our og casey was a different character, but that isnt the case.. y... (<_<)

Casey jr is an interesting character though! And i can understand why he appeals to fans, especially as his character post movie is fun to expand on aswell as developing his past involved with future versions of the main5, but one (me lol) could argue that the og casey is just as interesting of a character to delve into as she was involved, when you boil it down, a cult most of her life, and that concept, as well as the guilt she could hold for working with the foot and releasing the shredder, ontop of trying to befriend and gain the turtles and aprils trust are also intriguing concepts that could be explored, yet finding content that mentions her at all beyond her relation to casey jr is scarce

It feels as though shes been reduced to a background character within the fandom despite being a reoccuring character for the entire show.

For the two seasons of rottmnt that we did get, we are shown just what kind of character casey is and her possible dynamics with the turtles+april. Shes passionate and powerful and beyond determined to prove her worth and reach her goals. Shes also playful and reckless, a side that fits well with the main cast and their humor and, if the show was given more time, couldve developed naturally as the newest addition to the family as most caseys are. I could also argue that her characterization fits that of previous caseys more than casey jrs does (though i will admit that considering the plot of the movie, i cant positively say what hed be like outside of life or death scenarios, but i also cant imagine hes going to make a 180 in personality without it feeling jarring and ooc)

Now, i wont ignore the fact that her arc was cut horribly short and her involvement in the movie was quite literally a brief mention, both of which definitely play into how under appreciated she is. But at the same time it almost feels like everyone, including the show runners, have willingly pushed her aside for this new boy version to fill the role of casey jones. Hell, even when you look up rottmnt casey jones, cassandra barely shows up. Its casey jr which further proves my point

Idk, TLDR im pretty disappointed that despite being a consistent character for the entire show, no one seems to write or acknowledge her and if she is mentioned, its only relevant to push forward casey jrs character development or a brief cameo. As much as i do love casey jr (i can feel like hes mid and i can like him!) it seems like most people forget about the original casey, or favor casey jr in her place and she deserves more love and credit than shes given!

#rottmnt casey jones #rottmnt cassandra jones #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leoserpost #sorry to get so passionate about her #shes my little meow meow you see #now OBVIOUSLY some people write about her and casey jr #and they do it well #and im well aware of the rushing of the show along with the strange gap btwn it and the movie #but i still feel its important to mention because shes so cool!!!!!#and the best!!!!!#and i love her very much!!!!!#(also i didnt get into how fandom prioritize male characters over female ones and how that also likely plays a role in her being overlooked #(but i didnt feel like starting an argument w ppl who refuse to examine their own internalized misogyny so :P #we'll leave it at this)#plz appreciate her!!!!!!!#she deserves so much more!!!!#i want in depth fics about her life post shredder!!!!!#*if u want it sm go make it urself* i hear some say #and listen bud #<<#im thinking about it so hard in my brain #maybe i will!#😤#ddjsjka ok im done #this is all very much my opinion #and maybe theres cassandra circles im missing out on #but this is also what ive observed #at the end of the day these are just silly cartoon characters and i just happen to feel strongly about this one!!

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sundrop-writes · 5 months

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Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

The Titans have faced a lot together, but never something quite as troubling as the possible return of an inter-dimensional demon that shreds apart worlds and leaves nothing standing in its wake.

You hate to admit it, but even standing with your team - you're afraid. Dick tries his best to comfort you, but for once during his career as noble, selfless team leader - he takes a moment to be selfish, and does something that he has been avoiding doing for years.

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 4, Episode 6.

Word Count: 2,900

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this one is a bit more on the angsty side; this fic features major spoilers for season 4 (and for the majority of the show) - so if you're watching it for the first time or you haven't seen it yet and you want to watch it spoiler free, then avoid this fic for now; the reader character is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; the reader is one of the original Titans; the reader and Dick are childhood friends through the Justice League - the reader is the adoptive child of Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (the reader is a talented marksman and trained in combat); the reader is mentioned to be an orphan (again, aren't all good superheroes); major pining from Dick - he has had a crush on the reader since they were kids (most of this is from his POV, so it's not specified if the reader has returned his feelings for just as long); mentions of canon character deaths; a lot of this is from Dick's POV so - warnings for Dick being emotionally constipated and referring to romantic feelings as a 'disease'; this is an AU where Dickkory never happened; mentions of canon violence - not described in graphic detail; mentions of the apocalypse/the world ending (and the anxiety this can cause); the reader is feeling extreme fear/anxiety due to the possible end of the world; technically - unresolved pining. I believe that's it.

A/N: The second part of the First Kiss series! I had a lot of fun with this one. This is the first really romantic fic I have written for Dick, and I enjoyed it so much omg. I was so tempted to write an enemies to lovers version with him, because he annoys me so much in the canon, and I feel like 'kissing in the middle of a heated argument' would work so well with his character - but maybe we'll save that one for Jason (or Hank, idk). instead, I went with emotionally constipated Dick Grayson, because that is sooo canon. he would not admit his feelings for someone if he had a gun to his head. and I had a lot of fun writing this mostly from his POV. I feel like he is such an interesting POV character to work with, so I might do more from him in the future. anyway, please enjoy!!

...

Stress.

There were few other words to describe the horrible feeling that was dense in the air around them.

Everyone was looking to Dick for answers, and unfortunately, he had none. Sebastian was missing, likely kidnapped by Mother Mayhem in order to complete a ritual that would likely mean the end of the world. Rachel had lost her powers and the Titans needed her unique form of magic now more than ever. Tim was impatient, annoyed because Dick wasn’t letting him use the minimal training that he had. But of course, Dick was hesitant to let the next would-be Robin off the bench after what had happened to Jason.

(Dick could barely bring himself to think about Jason these days.)

Kory was having difficulty controlling her newfound powers, and so was Gar. Which left the team weakened on all sides. Jinx was helpful on the magic front, but she was far from easy to control when it came to executing plans and corralling her rather wild personality.

And Dick didn’t even want to think about what was happening with Conner. He just had to pray that this whole shaved-head, Lex Luthor impression was part of his mourning for his would-be father, and hopefully - it would be temporary.

All of the chaos among the team left Dick leaning on you. As usual, you were likely the only person on the team who wasn’t experiencing any extreme drama. You were the only Titan with some true stability.

And you were the person on the team with the most experience. Even more than Dick himself. Beyond being part of the original Titans team that had helped to found The Tower, you had been trained under Oliver Queen, who was part of the Justice League as Green Arrow. Ollie had taken you on as his own child when your parents died and left him as your carer in their will. Naturally, early into your childhood, he had started training you in the art of combat and marksmanship - so you grew up with intense skill.

You and Dick met soon after he was adopted by Bruce. And much like Donna, you were a kind face and a wise voice that kept him mentally grounded well into adulthood. But you were also someone mischievous that made him smile; someone he could always turn to for a well timed laugh.

You always kept him sane.

And very much unlike Donna - soon after he met you, Dick started to develop feelings for you.

Of course, back then, it was just a silly crush. When he told Donna about it at the time, she laughed. And when he had hidden his face in embarrassment, she then told him that it was ‘cute’. She told him that you two would be good together when you got older. So naturally, Dick took her words as biblically concrete advice.

He decided that he should wait for you. That the two of you would be good together when you got older.

So he waited.

And he waited. And eventually - life got in the way.

He had a huge falling out with Bruce, things at the Tower went south. It was never the right time to tell you. How the hell could he tell his best friend that he had those big, terrifying feelings mounting inside of him, worsening each year like a disease?

It was never the right time to tell you because he was dodging disasters left and right and he needed you more as a friend than as a lover. He needed you as a brick wall to lean on. He needed you as that voice of common sense in his ear - the leader’s loyal first mate, giving him advice behind the curtain and keeping his head on straight.

He didn’t need to tell you about his awful, festering feelings and have you gone from his life too.

When Garth died, and then Jericho died and the Tower shuddered, it still didn't feel like the right time. Wounds were tender and even if you were never downright angry at him like everyone else was - you needed your space. Dick respected that.

That day, you stood at the mouth of the elevator, about to leave for Star City to go and lick your emotional wounds at Ollie’s for a while, and you looked at Dick with tears in your eyes - looked at him like you were waiting for him to say it. But it wasn’t the right time.

He still thought about you every single day when he was in Detroit. And then - he showed up at your door with a scared little girl, needing more advice, needing that brick wall again. It was only natural that when chaos found him, he needed your help.

He hated that your advice was to call in Dawn and Hank. He relied on you, and you relied on family. And he hated that they were waiting at your apartment, called against his will once he had left to do some more sleuthing.

But he found that you were right when he saw how Dawn bonded with Rachel, when Hank put up a vicious fight against those strangers who came to collect her in the name of her father.

Watching you get thrown off that roof sent Dick’s heart through his stomach. As he clung onto the rooftop with his fingers and the muscles of his arm burned, all he could think about was you. As you sputtered out blood and he cradled your head, unsure of how to help you, terror gripped him in a way that it never had before in his life, because he realized that he might actually lose the most important person in his life.

As you lay in the hospital, a set of machines barely keeping you alive, with Dawn loyally holding your hand in comfort and Hank seething to get revenge on the people who had hurt you - Dick ached with regret and not having told you.

Still, when you showed up at that house in Ohio, somehow magically awakened from your near death by Rachel's powers - Dick felt that it just wasn't the right time. He swallowed his regrets like ash in his mouth when he reunited with you, hugged you tight. He didn’t even consider telling you about his feelings to be on the radar of possibility.

When you came back to the Tower to help bring in Doctor Light - it just wasn't the right time. When you showed up in Gotham to help bring down Red Hood - it just wasn't the right time.

Even when Dick died and was brought back to life by some strange magical pit, a pool of waters that brought him dreams of a far off life with you - it still wasn’t the right time.

You were there to Dick's call, loyal and waiting, every single time. You looked at him with as much love and longing in your eyes as he needed (at least, according to Dawn and Donna you did) - but still, it never felt like the right time.

It never felt like the right time to destabilize his entire life by uprooting the one good friendship he had. It never felt like the right time to truly fuck things up with you.

Now, because of some cult that Dick believed to be long gone and a stupid blood ritual, the world was ending, and it still didn't feel like the right time.

He wasn't the son of a demon from another dimension, but he still felt cursed.

When Dick saw you slip out of the room, clearly trying to sneak away from the group, his stomach twisted with nerves. It was rare that you of all people cracked under the pressure. It was rare that you needed to escape from the madness for a breath. He mumbled an excuse to Kory and then chased after you, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to tell where he was truly going - but truthfully, he didn’t care.

He easily caught you in one of the late night deserted halls of STAR Labs.

The many glass walls overlooked the city - a collection of bright lights that made up Metropolis. Thousands of people that you never knew, that you had never met before. People that all seemed too important now as you contemplated their lives; thought about the fact that you might not be able to save them.

Dick saw the sickly look on your face, the glassy sheen of guilt in your eyes even from far off as you leaned on the polished titanium railing that separated the upper floors from the atrium. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall and you heard him approaching from far off. He made no effort to sneak up on you or conceal himself, not wanting to startle you when you were already in such a distressed state.

The minute you looked over your shoulder and saw him, your face broke from that dark, doomed frown into a haste smile, and you reached up to wipe away your tears, attempting to be subtle with that motion. You were trying to hide yourself from him.

Dick came to stand beside you, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms. He desperately wanted to shelter you away from any fear you might be feeling. Maybe it was selfish; wanting to hold you, wanting to protect you from anything in the world that could possibly harm you. Maybe it was downright idiotic - because realistically, he knew that couldn't protect you from this kind of harm. He couldn’t protect you from the world ending.

“Y/N-” Dick murmured your name gently, clutching a fist tightly by his side to resist the urge to reach out and soothe a hand over the trembling muscles of your jaw.

You were holding in a sob, and it came out as a harsh, sarcastic laugh instead.

“I know.” You said. “I know. You're doing that Team Leader Guy Thing.”

You tried to make it sound playful and joking, but with your voice wet and soaked with worry and fear, it came off as a pathetic bid to deflect.

Dick wasn’t sure how to reply. Because yes, he was doing that ‘Team Leader Guy Thing’. He was trying his best to, anyway.

“You're gonna ask ‘are you okay?’ and I'm gonna lie and say ‘I'm fine, boss. All good.’” You continued.

At least you were being straightforward about it being a lie.

Dick wished that he had something genuinely helpful to say, but his throat stalled with dryness and his chest ached at seeing you so distraught. It really wasn’t something that he was used to.

“I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world.” You let out another dry, sarcastic laugh.

Then, there was a moment of silence - a beat of realization as your chin quivered and more thick tears rimmed your eyes.

“It's - it's only the end of the world.” You spoke these words heavier, dropping any false laughter in your tone - it truly hit you. Any further jokes you could make left you.

Dick choked on his own tears when he heard the aborted sob in your chest - something that came out as a whimper when you reached up to clutch at your heart.

You were genuinely terrified. Terrified that the Titans wouldn’t be able to find a solution in time. Terrified that everyone was going to die. Not just the people you loved, but - everyone.

“Hey, come on.” Dick said, his leader instincts, his natural caring for you kicking in. “We've been through worse.”

Working with the Titans, you had been through a lot. Drug busts, battling against costumed psychopaths, the loss of a dear friend to a dangerous assassin. But you weren’t sure that you had been through something worse than this. Everything the Titans had been through had never affected the world on such a large scale.

“Have we?” You argued gently.

Perhaps not. Maybe the only time the team had been in such dire straits was the first time Trigon attempted to come to earth. But that had been when Rachel had been armed with her powers and had been prepared to take him down. But Dick wasn't going to voice those thoughts to you.

You waited in agony for him to say something, and your tears finally breached - rolling down your face in hot tracks, laying marks of the true fear you were feeling, laying it all bare for the first time. Dick knew that his own eyes reflected that same glossy hurt now, if only for the pain he felt in seeing you cry - something that was so incredibly rare over the time he had known you.

Dick reached out and gently cupped the side of your cheek, running his thumb across your face and wiping some of those tears away. You were so startled by the tenderness of the touch that you couldn't help but to let out a whimper, and you felt frozen as Dick spoke his next words.

“It's gonna be okay.” He told you, trying his hardest to sound confident in the words. “We're gonna get through this. I know we will.”

This time, unlike many before, you couldn't be inspired by his confidence.

“Have you - have you considered what happens if we don't?” Your voice barely reached above a whisper, barely daring to tempt fate with this possibility.

Honestly, Dick had not. In these kinds of situations, he didn't allow himself to focus too much on the negative. As the team leader, he did have to take all the possibilities into account. It was something he had to do in order to keep everyone safe. But if he focused too much on death and darkness, much like Bruce did, then he knew that paranoia would overtake him and his team would get caught in the crossfire.

He had to spend his time coming up with solutions to fix the problem rather than spending his time caught up in knots, worrying about what would happen if he fumbled and didn't actually fix things after all.

The literal end of the world? It just wasn't a possibility in this mind.

But right now, standing there, staring into your big eyes, glossed over with fear as you looked to him for answers - there was only one thing that Dick could think of.

And it was so incredibly selfish. It didn’t have anything to do with the team or being a good leader. It didn’t have anything to do with helping the others.

Dick brushed his thumb over your cheek again, an incredibly tentative touch that had your skin tingling. You let out a small sigh, and the world froze around you when he leaned in - slowly, moving toward you at a pace that more than gave you time to escape if you wanted to. But you found that you didn’t want to. You found his closeness to be an incredible comfort in these moments of mental chaos.

And so, he gently planted his lips on yours.

It should have come as a shock - your childhood best friend kissing you. But in that moment, it just felt right. All you could do was shut your eyes and lean into the kiss, reaching up to grip his wrist, keeping him close to you as you leaned into his smothering heat. His lips were surprisingly soft, and he tasted like coffee - using caffeine to keep himself awake for days, trying to marathon a solution against the impending doom.

His kiss was firm but so giving - a touch that easily swallowed you up with heat from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. It was a sensation that pushed out the rest of the world, smothered any worries about who or what might bring an end to it.

It was the most tender, but most wonderfully passionate kiss that you had ever experienced in your life.

When he pulled away, you sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling incomplete without his lips on yours. The shock then began to set in, like pulling the knife from a stab wound and feeling the blood rush out of you freely. It created a dizzying mixture with the heat that was now boiling under your skin.

Why? Your brain screamed out as you stared at him. When? How long had he wanted to kiss you? How long had you been missing out on Dick Grayson?

Dick could see all those questions bubbling beneath your surface as the fear in your eyes shifted to confusion, and he finally decided to speak.

“I'm sorry.” He said quietly. “But if the world does end, I couldn't die without knowing what kissing you is like.”

“Dick-” You sighed, about to go on a long rant about how he could have done that years ago, about how he should have - and the end of the world was a shitty excuse.

But you abruptly cut off your own words when more footsteps squeaked down the hall - the rubber soles of sneakers scuffing against the polished floor.

Dick jumped away from you as though he had been burned, clearly wanting to keep the interaction private. Both of you tuned to see Gar approaching.

“Dick?” He posed. Gar had a look of confusion, clearly wondering if he should question what was going on between the two of you but swallowing it.

“Yeah?” Dick replied.

“Um - Conner's missing.” He announced this in a nervous, meek tone, not wanting to bring the team leader any more bad news.

“What?” Dick gaped.

There was no time to further discuss what Dick had said to you. With the end of the world in your hands, it easily fell to the back of your mind.

...

If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans x reader #titans fanfiction #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson x gn reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #titans hbo #dc titans fanfiction

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luvsae · 1 year

Note

Listen im a huge simp for Cha Hyun-su (sweet home) I even tried shifting there (im still trying)

And I wanna request for like were dating Hyun-su and were also infected so uh yeah

Idk but if you can try to do something with that

ask and you shall receive <3

(wasn't sure whether or not to do headcanons or a fic but... an actual fic is more interesting!!)

also,,, sorry if it's a bit short!! i was sleep deprived when i wrote this </3

infected love | cha hyunsu

pairing; hyunsu x gn!reader

- you and hyunsu are both infected but that doesn't get in the way of your love <3

Ever since the strange days of the apocalypse started, you and Hyunsu made sure to be safe - that's why you stayed in your shared apartment at first.

That was until Hyunsu was infected.

Hyunsu was worried that he would infect you, but you told him that it didn't matter and you would love him no matter what.

Eventually, you did get infected, but you felt perfectly fine - especially with Hyunsu by your side.

When people found out that you were both infected, Eunhyuk decided to lock you two together in one of the rooms in the apartment.

Hyunsu begged for you to not be locked up but you didn't mind it, but Eunhyuk also declined his request.

Now, you and Hyunsu were starting to be let out more and socialize with other people. (Although it was awkward).

"That sweater looks cute on you," you cooed. "I think you should get more like that."

Hyunsu wore a blue sweater - it was from one of the bins located in the main lobby for anyone, and he decided to wear it, but you loved it more than he did. "Really?"

"Of course," you stood on your tip-toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "You look cute in anything."

Hyunsu laughed, scratching the back of his neck as he was flustered. "You look cute in anything too."

"Thank you." You smiled.

Your moment was interrupted by Eunhyuk who called you to dinner. Dinner time was always difficult as people judged you - mostly Seok-hyun and any of the people were scared.

You took your hand in Hyunsu's, giving it a tight squeeze to prepare not just him but also you for whatever insults would be thrown at you.

Both of you followed Eun-hyuk into the room where everyone ate. You two already gained most of the looks in the room which gave you a little bit of anxiety.

"Hey, hey, Eun-hyuk. What are those monsters doing here?" Seok-hyun snarled, "I don't want my food to be contaminated."

"Seok-hyun," Eun-hyuk started, "not now."

"No," Seok-hyun started, "get out of here, both of you!"

You laughed as the man looked up at you, it was funny. "If you don't want to be infected then don't eat here, simple."

"What did you say?" Seok-hyun mocked your laughing. "You're being smart with me now? I've got to-"

Seok-hyun raised a hand to you but was stopped when Hyunsu held him by the arm tightly. "I know you don't have any manners or human decency, but I would stop if I were you."

You had never heard Hyunsu so serious and defensive. Of course, he defended you, but this was a new side of him.

"I-" Seok-hyun was flustered and embarrassed, he didn't know what to do in the moment. "Eun-hyuk, do something!"

"Just let them eat," Eun-hyuk said before walking out of the room.

────────────

After eating, you and Hyunsu decided to sit elsewhere in the building. Your backs against the wall as Hyunsu held your hand in his lap.

You had your head rested on his shoulder as a sigh escaped you. He noticed immediately and squeezed your hand. "What's wrong?"

"It's hard being like this," you started. "I don't mind being infected, of course it isn't ideal, but I just wish people wouldn't be so quick to judge."

"Hey," Hyunsu rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand comfortingly. "Who cares what people think? Especially Seok-hyun, he's an asshole."

You laughed. "You can say that again."

"Besides, I won't judge you," he told you. "Even if I wasn't infected."

"You're too sweet," you kissed his covered shoulder and smiled. "The best boyfriend I could've asked for."

"I love you," he blurted out. "So much."

"I love you more." You replied back.

"What should we do tonight?" Hyunsu asked, a smile still remaining on his face. "Do you have any ideas?"

"I wish there were more options," you sighed. "I think we should just be with each other. I want us to have a nice sleep."

"That sounds nice to me," Hyunsu smiled. "I'm sorry about what happened today, by the way. You didn't deserve that."

"It's okay," you told him. "Thank you for defending me. I appreciate it and I meant to thank you before."

"I'll always be here to defend you, I promise."

"And I will do the same for you." You smiled, leaning in the peck his cheek.

────────────

It started to get late as you and Hyunsu went into your room to get some sleep, or at least attempt to.

You two were the only ones locked up in the 'infected room' but it was nice, just being away from everyone and not have anyone complaining about being near them.

Eun-hyuk was nice enough to give you two a mattress from one of the rooms downstairs. It was slightly comfortable but being next to Hyunsu was the only thing that mattered to you.

You lay down on the bed, a sigh of relief escaping you lips as the tiredness dawned over you. Being infected could be hard - you were often tired and needed your rest.

Sometimes when you were in bed, the thoughts about what could happen after the apocalypse appeared in your head. What would happen if everything went back to normal yet you and Hyunsu were the only infected people? Would they take you in? Would they-

"Hey," Hyunsu snapped you out of your thoughts, "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. Just tired," you told him, smiling. "Are you?"

"'I'm also tired." Hyunsu smiled back.

"Let's sleep." You turned on your side, Hyunsu shifted closer and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer to him.

"I love you," he said, kissing you one last time - this time on your arm. "Infected, whatever, I love you no matter what."

"I love you no matter what either," you told him. "I'll love you forever."

#hyunsu x reader #sweet home x reader #my fic #cha hyun su #cha hyunsu x reader #romance #fluff stuff

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diientedegato · 4 months

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I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what Ben Paul would look like if he was alive years after S1 of TWDG :> I honestly prefer to imagine both him & Kenny going off on their own adventures after S1, because Idk if I'd've had Kenny as part of S2, it felt like when he returned it became less Clem's story & more his. That might be controversial among fans but it's how I feel :s I like to imagine Ben, Kenny & Sarita forming their own little family in fact <3 I'd expect Ben would end up with shaggier hair after a while but I wouldn't mind knowing what he'd look like with short, spiked up hair ;>

IM SORRY BOTH THE ASK AND DRAWING ARE OLD- but I came across the sketch I had eugeugeh. I do not have many headcanons but behind the cut is just a rant about. Kenny mostly. Too much should I warn? But yah I'm sorry it took me like 5 months lol

The only headcanon (regarding Ben's appearance) is that he'd keep his school jacket for as long as possible. Until it thorns apart. Or until he dies.

I'm big fan of Ben lives possibility btw I've gotta draw sum about that sometime (I say, about every twdg character i like,)

And dude, do I agree about Kenny. Man doesn't belong in season 2. The character they made him to be in the second season is not Kenny, it's just a nostalgia element. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, I'm biased as hell, I break that hug choice every time. But it made the character development in the first season just.... pointless. "For some reason, I saved that piece of shit Ben", man, that quote just disappoints me. Kenny lost everything. Father and husband of none no more, which was pretty much the arc of Kenny on the first season?? I think? . Everything he loved and he had he lost, and he killed the person responsible for it. But not as revenge, he killed a kid out of mercy. He saved the boy from suffering a painful death, and that was forgiveness, to the reason he hadn't any. He took a decision he would be fully responsible of, when it was time for him to go. And he was perfect.

Hell, if he had appeared during season 2, I do prefer the Kenny as Carver idea. Clementine wasn't even that close to Kenny in the past, the player was, so even then it feels... off, off to be forced to care about a man that says so much he wants to protect you. (They're not really family, but is as if Kenny tries to protect and have Clem on his side, to have Clem's loyalty through and through. Though he does let her go and is proud of her on her individuality... hm.) But still, I mean, second season Kenny is not first season Kenny, and it isn't even a change that made sense. If he had been antagonist (which pretty much feels like it in the Canon story already), he should have had some other background story, no Sarita or company. Maybe then the cynical view he has would have mattered. The violence and anger and whatever else. For him to change that way was a consequence of him losing what he represented, protection of family? Wasn't failure and grief and acceptance meant to be important after all?

But otherwise yea I think it would've been pretty cool if Ben survived :3 I am a sucker for tales of redemption, forgiveness, and found family. And I hadn't thought about Kenny, Ben, and Sarita, but hell yeah. Man, even if they appeared in the second season, it would've been interesting if the choice wasn't between two individuals, but between two families. Ben already had a relationship with Clem! He appreciated her and calls her his only friend during season 1, he did leave her behind during that scene, -but the point of Ben was that- He was a coward all the season, until when he wasn't. He wanted to help Lee help Clem. They would've had an interesting sibling relationship-? also Ben had a young sister before the apocalypse so ooooh projection and parallels and shi. And if Ben had lived, he would've completed his development to something close to bravery-?

Well, I don't know, at least I think that'd be one interesting way to bring back old characters. Otherwise, Kenny should only be mentioned on dialogue maximum. The way I see it.

(I repeat the same thing over and over when I talk about something I'm sorry

(I've developed no language skills whatsoever in my life

(Yippee

#twdg #twdg fanart #twdg s1 #ben paul twdg #ben twdg #digital art #digital illustration #my art

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sam-blackbird · 3 months

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An analyse of Umbrella Academy s4's posters (beware of s3 spoilers, ofc)

Hi! Today, the official Umbrella Academy Instagram account published season 4 posters, and since I'm very excited about this, I'm gonna try to analyse the posters, or what I can tell about them.

It's going to be long so grab a snack if you want / can, put on a cool playlist, and let's dive down! I'm going to do it poster by poster, in the order it was posted, from the oldest post to the newest (so not in numeral order).

We can notice that the characters are cut in two, the Portal way.

Anyway. First of all: Viktor !

Ngl, I had a moment when I saw he had the masculine uniform.

But past my joyful moment, my mind went racing so fast I couldn't keep it down, I had to share my thoughts (even if there may be only one person reading me, but whatever).

First thing first, it's interesting that the first one isn't Luther but Viktor, who is, the main character of the show (or at least, that's how I see it). Or a least the most important one. (if the last scene is Viktor ending his reading of his new book, about his siblings, not only would it be a fucking good epanadiplosis but it would make me cry the hell out of me)

After all, the show open with him, following him. And nothing would happen if it wasn't for him. He's the one trying to get the family stick together, and (unwillingly) starting apocalypse (twice or thrice, shit happens).

Let's focus on the poster now. On the left, we have a clothing reminding us of the Umbrella Academy days, or rather the "how it was before the show", except they are adult, and Viktor is here shown post-transition (and not pre-, as he was in the first two seasons). What does that mean? Fuck if I know. That being said, I think it have its importance (if they wanted to put children instead, they would have, wouldn't they?). However, we can note that he is not wearing neither the boy shorts (nor girl's skirt, for obvious reasons), but some secretly third option, aka a grey pant (is it the sport pant?). He is standing out himself, as a trans man (not wearing a skirt, yet not wearing the boy uniform either, as if he wasn't fully in that category somehow? idk).

Viktor's posture is straight (lol), and I associate it with being calm, obedient (he listen to everything Reginald says (ex: take these pills), and since Reginald is perceived as a father figure, it makes sense that Viktor wants to obey him, maybe hoping he (Viktor) will be loved and recognized as valuable). And also with being like a puppet. Or a muppet. The point is: He's not free of his movement, he doesn't have free will.

His face doesn't look happy. Nor sad. Just... neutral. He's just... there.

On the right, we can't see his face, yet his posture seems way more relaxed! He's wearing casual clothes, more modern ones, adapted to the world without powers they're now seems to live at the end of season 3.

His looks reminds me of the one of Tyler Ronan from Tell Me Why, a game by the studio Don't Nod (I fucking love that game). Both characters are trans man.

(This are pictures of Tyler. I had to restrain myself because we're not here from ma boi Tyler) (I have way too many pictures of that icon)

Anyway. Casual clothes. Blue, like the uniform. I won't analyse that, this post is already long enough.

Tbh, I haven't saw again the last episode of season 3, so I don't remember if it was the clothes they were wearing or new ones.

Also, Viktor is holding an umbrella in his right hand, probably a reference to the Umbrella days. Like, it's a part of him, he can't leave it behind, he physically have it with him (even if he doesn't have the power).

And the Umbrella is closed, unlike the ones from the previous seasons's posters.

Like, season 2's were opened (and full), and season 3's were opened and damaged (and they were hiding the protagonists' faces, showing implicitly the influence of the academy on them).

Next one, Luther !

We almost can see his face on the right!

But anyway, let's start by the left. Luther is walking, straight, in what could be either a military walk or a relaxed one (? don't quote me on this please, I can't explain). His posture screams "confidence" and "I'm number one, I'm a leader, follow me!". Or something like that, I'm no posture reader, just someone who watched way too much police and detective shows. He's wearing the Umbrella uniform (and it's so fucking weird to see it on a grown ass man!). His hair are cut short.

On the right, he's wearing a more casual look. There's something going one with his arm muscles, but I can't be bother to search what. His hair are longer than on the left. He is wearing gloves and an umbrella, and walking shoes. His umbrella is cutting his name (does it have some symbolism? Maybe.)

He's still wearing blue (like Viktor), even if it's a different kind of blue (and it kinda fit him).

Nothing more to add. (yes, I have my favorites, and despite liking Luther, I won't kill my eyesight anymore than necessary for details).

Next! Diego!

Let me preface this by saying that it's so fucking weird to see him in that uniform. On the left, he's walking like a good little soldier, following the leader.

On the right, he's the embodiment of a relax guy who can (and will) definitely yeet you out of the picture if needed. He's not wearing anything casual. It's more like a killer / soldier clothes, with his precious knifes.

DOES HE HAVE A MUSTACHE????

He's holding the Umbrella on the shoulder, as if he can't be bothered with it (and/ or he's gonna use it as a weapon).

Next! Not number 3, but the one who's linked to Diego! Lila!

Love that she's officially "Lila Hargreeves".

The left outfit is like the one she had in season 2 when she was with the Handler and stuff about her past was revealed (so interesting and meaningful choice of outfit). Her heels are thin, as if she wasn't stable (with her life situation and all).

Yet, on the right, her heels are thicker, more stable to move (she's more free to go).

Her clothes are modern and the flowers fit her really well, I might say. Her hair are put up, like the active badass woman she is. They're brown again, and not white/ blond anymore, it's more natural (I can't really argue, my hair are currently pink).

She overall looks like a business woman, with a casual chic.

She too, is holding an umbrella, which make her fully part of the family. She hold it casually.

Next, another girl: Allison.

Ngl, I'm no big fan of hers, so this will be short.

On the left, she's confidently wearing her UA (Umbrella Academy) uniform. Her hand move don't really feel natural (saying this as someone who sometimes draws human beings). Her hair are like the one from season 1.

On the right, she looks like a business woman and a mom. Her posture looks aslo determined, while relaxed. She have business to do, and no one will stop/ prevent her from doing so!

Girl power and all that.

(I'm trying, I really can't stand how her character was wrote during season 3)

Neeeeext! Let's go with one of my fav, Klaaaaaaus!

I have to say, it is criminal that a) his hair are short on th right side (loved his long hair) and b) where's the skirt?! He slayed in it! Anyway.

On the left, his walking looks very mechanical, as if he was a machine, a robot (lol) (I won't do any joke about Grace). Yet, his posture his not natural (no one walks naturally torso in one way and legs in another, if that makes some sense) (that reminds me kinda of the extravagant way drag queens walk on the runaway, for shows, but I may be extrapolating a little).

His eyes are closed. Why are his eyes closed? I'm scared. His face is still like the one of a dead person. Resigned. Accepting his fate. But after all, Klaus had always been closed to death, more or less metaphorically speaking, as he can see ghosts (= dead people, or what remains of them).

His hair are all over the place, reminding the crazy days he had to get fucking blasted to avoid said ghosts.

Right side is colorful. He's beauty, he's grace, WHERE ARE HIS HAIR?! No but more seriously, cutting one's own hair symbolise change in many culture, and more specifically letting go of the past, embracing new beginnings, and/ or undergoing spiritual or personal transformations. I have no idea how to interpret that.

He seems to float, to ascend (plz don't kill him). He is bare foot (bare feet? idk) (fun fact: in the comics, he could only use his power when sober and with bare feet) (I won't go down the rabbit hole of barefoot symbolism and its link with death, I'm not mentally well enough to do that).

He his wearing a yellow coat with flowers (flowers, like Lila!). Yellow is associated with joy, fest, sun (and Klaus is a comic relief, a feel good sunshine character), and flower, life. (again, plz don't kill him)

What reinforce that idea of tragedy is that the umbrella he's wearing is the only one who isn't black: it's the umbrella he was holding during Reggie's funeral in s1. Plus, he's holding it with three fingers out. What's the meaning of three? Idk. Maybe it’s for Allison? Maybe it has a link with God (the Christian one)? Yk, Holy Trinity and all that. After all, doesn't Klaus met God (the little girl in the afterlife) regularly?

Does that look good or bad for Klaus? No idea.

Speaking about looking good, Ben is back, alive. I won' t go far enough to say "well", but he's alive.

On the left, he's standing straight, walking in a unnatural posture. Following only.

On the right, he bent (idk why tho). His clothes are casual (and looking alike the one Viktor had been wearing during s3). His umbrella also cut his name (like Luther's). He's a Vans' boy!

(please, no mustache for him)

We can't see if he's wearing glasses or not.

Last of the Hargreeves kids (if you count Lila as one, and if not, last one of the power-gifted Hargreeves): Five.

On the left, his posture is haughty. His hands are in his pants pockets. He know what he wants, he is very sure of himself, maybe because he thinks he is better than everyone (he can think that, given what happened) (some might even say he have a bratty attitude, but I'll answer, well have you seen him during season 1???)

(my personal theory is that he is bend forward to be smaller on the left than on the right)

On the right, he left the UA uniform for a more formal suit (some call it 'the grandpa / old man suit'). His hair are longer.

He's walking down like he had no shit to give anymore (he doesn't) and he's ready to throw hands (he totally his).

HOLY (S)HIT HE'S HOLDING THE UMBRELLA IN HIS RIGHT HAND! Why? Why is he te only one wearing the umbrella on the other hand? Is it to accentuate his difference with his siblings (+ Lila)? Is it to show how differently he see his time at the UA an how differenlty he uses his powers? I mean, given he didn't spend as much time in the UA as the rest of them, ofc his vision and perception of the UA is different. Even his vision of time is different.

And now.

BEWARE! THE REGINALD JUMPSCARE! (or is it scare jump? Anyway, I've been working on this post for more than an hour and a hlaf, plz be indulgent, it's late and the day had been long)

On the left, we see the whole umbrella for the firs time on these posters.

Reggie is wearing blue (reminding of the UA uniform). He is young looking, and seems well assorted (who tf have two jacket pockets on the same side tho?)

Edit: his suit is actually more lilac/ purple, which is a color hard to dye (so it costed a lot and was reserved for royalty / rich ppl) (before industrialization and the use of chemical products for clothes dye; and we know Reggie arrived/ was on Earth on 19th c., so during the industrialization)

On the right, he's old and wearing a brown suit. Brown can symbolize the Earth. Earth can provide and ppl are depend on it to eat and therefore survive. In a way, he was a Earth for his children, as they were dependent on him (does that makes him a good father? Absolutely not!). (that thought, of Reggie being a Earth, is funny given he is an alien / an extraterrestrial)

And if you put them all in order, you get :

(notice how Klaus's picture / posture melt greatly in Five's?)

And that's it! Damn, that was long. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think about all of that in the comment!

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why-the-heck-not · 15 days

Note

Top 5 technologies that, unfortunately, have fallen out of use

okay this was interesting, had to rly think. Also idk if my definition of "technology" is right, but anything resembling will go. ALSO damn I rambled a lot, sorry abt that, apparently I like thinking about old tech

CDs. I miss owning albums, it was so nice to like actually have the physical copy of something u love. I think that's what missing now and is why I sometimes get actually annoyed abt loving a band/song (rn it's The Vantages (a band) & I'm actually mad about it) bc the "listening to it is not enough, I need to inject it to my bloodstream"-mood, which in actuality is that I'd love a physical copy to make it feel like a concrete thing. It's like the next best thing to going to a concert, and I can't keep buying merch I'll never wear outside my house to compensate. Also made u like decide on what album u want to listen to & the songs are always gonna be in the same order the artist decided them to be in, no mixing songs from the same or diff artists, you had to make A Choice. (actually my dad has my fave bands CDs (old-ish band & he an og fan) and it's kinda comforting to me that if (/when?) some Spotify apocalypse eventually happens, I'll have a way to listen to them anyways). Also been thinking for years about buying either a CD- or a vinyl player, or something like that bc I want to have physical copies of my faves (but haven't decided on what yet (probs vinyl tho. for the vibes.) and also the money aspect of it is not great)

Nokias. I just talked with my sister how we've both been thinking abt just buying an old Nokia keypad non-smart phone and just using that instead of like the current phones (but alas, not rly possible, like I can't get into my gym without a smart phone and that's just one thing, u kinda need a smartphone or life becomes unnecessarily complicated). But the durability, the worm game, the ''oh no in a hurry and need the letter s, oh shit I went overboard and went right back to p''). Also Finland represent lol

tamagotchi type things. like a "gaming console" (it's not but idk what those are called) that has the one game with abt 3 pixels and no color. Also I had one like that had a monkey that collected dropping bananas and that was the whole game, the only function that thing had (I have a suspicion I got it from McDonalds??? idk why I keep thinking that) (Googled and yes it was from McDonalds, called Aiai banana catch)

those big computers that were for the whole household. We didn't have one growing up (bc my parents had computers at their work and so we didn't need one) but the thrill of going to like a friend who lived near and they used their 1h of computer time to like play some horse game; unparalleled. Or like the games at Miniclip ?? or later on CLUB PENGUIN !!!!! (still to this day the best game that has or ever will exist) (tho I think at around club penguin-era my sister got a laptop so I used that until I got my own)

Those calculators that prints on paper what u've calculated right after, idk what they're called. Never used one & obv never had one bc was a kid, and actually not fully sure if ppl still do use them (but guessing at least that they're not as popular anymore) but damn. The pure aesthetics and vibes. Like the movie scenes of a character calculating using that while looking at bills to indicate that the said character has some finance problems? phenomenal, cinematography etc.

#april 2024 #2024 #asks

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access--granted · 8 months

Text

Too Slow

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Anon asked: how about a drabble with reader x luis in another apocalypse universe of your choice? they're just regular, run-of-the-mill people trying to survive a sudden outbreak of some kind, scavenging in a crumbling grocery/convenience store. maybe something angsty happens at the end? idk i just think it'd be interesting to see luis in a different zombie apocalypse universe xD A/N: Hoo boy, anon, do I have something for you 😂 you asked for angsty, and I think I delivered on that pretty well 🤭 I hope you like it because it hurt to write and they're thrown right into the thick of it 🥹 I didn't choose a specific zombie apocalypse universe for this, they're just out here trying to survive. Also, since no gender was specified, I've gone with gender-neutral and friendship rather than romance. I hope that's okay! :) TW: Angst, Implied major character death, mentions of blood and mild gore, use of guns. Pairing: Luis Serra x GN!Reader (Friendship) WC: 1,169

“Luis, can’t you at least try looking for something useful?” You poke your head over the counter, watching the Spaniard rifle through the cigarette kiosk, throwing empty cartons on the floor, his search for an untouched box, so far, unsuccessful.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at,” Luis responds, turning his head to look at you with a playful smile. “Cigarettes are vital. Without them, I might lose my mind.”

You scoff, leaving it at that as you return to what you were doing just a second before. You’re on the floor, searching all the bottom shelves in this tiny convenience store. The area had been quiet when you first arrived, and it had felt like a miracle you’d even come across this place after several days on the road, passing nothing but abandoned homes and stripped cars. It’s clear this place has already been scavenged and gutted of its stock at least a dozen times before, but you and Luis are willing to take your chances, having gone hours without food.

So far, all you’ve found are a few expired cereal bars, some painkillers from the medicine section and a bottle of lukewarm mineral water. It’s not much, but it’ll do just fine until you find somewhere else to raid. You stuff your findings into your satchel, running the back of your hand across your forehead to wipe away the sweat beading from your pores. The air is humid; a storm is coming as thick grey clouds sit stagnant in the sky outside.

“A-ha!” A triumphant Luis draws your attention back to him, and you scramble to your knees before standing up, patting the dust off your knees. When you look his way, he’s holding up a carton of cigarettes like they’re a goddamn medal of honour. They’re perfectly unopened– still in their cellophane wrapping, even. “It seems the universe is on my side,” he remarks, looking so proud of himself. It makes you laugh, shaking your head.

“How do you always manage to get exactly what you want?” Swinging your satchel over your shoulder, you watch him. He’s already torn the cellophane off and popped a cigarette between his lips.

“I guess I’m just lucky–”

It all happens so fast. One second, Luis is proudly showing off his found treasure, about to relish in his first smoke since a few days ago, and the next, he’s grappling with an infected that came out of nowhere. Turns out the corpse hunched over in the far corner hadn’t been dead when you checked upon arrival.

You scramble to your back pocket for your pistol– knife, anything. A blood-curdling scream bounces through the store, a chunk of flesh ripped from Luis’ shoulder, your eyes wide and pupils quivering as you watch, mindlessly taking shots at the monster, blood splattering out of bullet holes in rotting flesh until you focus enough to aim for the head. Bang. Thud.

The walking corpse crumples to the floor, and Luis staggers and falls on his backside, blood flowing consistently from the wound in his shoulder. Somehow, that cigarette is still perching perfectly between his lips. You’re too stunned to speak, to move. Instead, you stand frozen in place and watch your friend bleed out, cussing under his breath. He doesn’t seem scared, though, at least not to the naked eye.

Luis clutches his bleeding shoulder, using his free hand to dig his lighter out of his pocket. You’re still standing across from him, the realisation of what just happened dawning on you, hitting you like a truck hurtling down the highway.

Luis lights his cigarette, taking a long drag while he rests his head against the side of the counter. His face gets lost momentarily in a plume of smoke as it exits his lungs. His eyes meet yours, his voice pulling you out of your stun.

“Well… shit,” he says, voice strained and face twitching with pain, “I guess I ran out of luck– too slow.” He grits his teeth before bringing the cigarette back to his lips. Tears start spilling from your eyes just as the rain begins to fall outside; the first sound coming out of your mouth is nothing but a sob while you stutter towards Luis and kneel at his side. Your trembling hand rests on his leg.

“This– it’s my fault,” your voice gets stuck halfway up your throat, “I should’ve put a bullet in its head before. I should’ve–”

“Don’t.”

“But–”

“Don’t. This isn’t your fault, my friend. It wasn’t moving. You weren’t to know.” Luis looks at you, keeping the cigarette between his lips. He reaches up to ruffle your hair and sweep the tears away from your cheeks. “Sneaky little bastard, eh?”

You choke on a sob– and a bit of a laugh, and you hate it. You and Luis have been surviving together for months. The idea of having to carry on alone terrifies you. The fact that he won’t be around anymore utterly shatters you.

Noises arise from the surrounding area, bringing your and Luis’ attention to the door at the front, then the one at the back. Trash cans clatter, and feet start dragging. The screaming and gunfire likely drew attention. You need to get out of here.

“Come on, we’ve gotta go,” you sniff, moving to bring Luis to his feet again, but he pulls away and gives you that look. The look you’ve been given far too many times by too many people you’d grown fond of throughout this whole fucked up apocalypse. With Luis, though, it hurts a million times more.

His smile is genuine, yet so sad, as he says, “We both know I’m not going anywhere. I’m a dead man walking.” You shake your head, about to protest. You’re not having any of this– “Y/N, I mean it. You need to get out of here. Now.”

A door handle starts rattling in the back of the store, out of sight, but the clock is ticking. Moans of the infected start multiplying, filling the air that had been silent moments ago. Your eyes meet with Luis’ again. You’re pleading with him silently, but his fingers are curling around the grip of his handgun, easing it out of his belt, his cigarette having already burned down to the butt.

He has accepted his fate.

“Go. Run, and don’t look back.”

Thorns squeeze around your heart, piercing it, tearing it to shreds. Lips quivering, you lean in to press a single, lingering kiss on his forehead. For a second, you think you hear Luis’ breath shake as he leans into your lips.

You stagger to your feet, pistol in hand, and turn to the entrance. ‘Run, and don’t look back.’ Quaking legs carry you forward, gaining speed clumsily as you burst through the door, cold rain hitting your skin as a gunshot resonates from inside the store, and your blood runs cold.

Oh, how one moment of misjudgement can turn into such agony.

#resident evil #x reader #luis serra #luis serra navarro #luis sera x reader #luis x reader #re4 luis #luis re4 #re4 remake #luis resident evil #reader insert #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake

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yamatologistt · 1 year

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im like, what, 10 years late to the whole walking dead game thing but i was way too young back then to understand the game. i hope people still enjoy it, its a really good game (and sad) but im only up to season 3 right now (i only really liked s1 and s2) but im not finished so i cant really make decisions rn

i just want to talk about ben rn and evaluate him cause im rewatching it and now that hes my favourite i notice more things about him now. (i literally look at him everytime hes in frame even if its just showing the back of his head oml)

but anyway i see a lot of ben hate and sure i get it but i dont at the same time ben is so silly how can u hate him

- to start, when we first met ben in the woods, he’d already been through some stuff, like he saw his classmate off herself and turn into a walker, his camp got raided and he was left with 1 friend and his teacher (who both still die btw) so most of what he had left before the apocalypse was gone

- when lee is rationing out the food, if he gives ben food first, kenny comes and tells lee that there’s kids that need food too, and ben literally is like ‘sorry i didnt want any trouble’ like cmon, and he’s literally a kid too he deserves the food as much as anyone else

- on the train he is interested in the controls and being up there, so we can see that he generally enjoyed it. but once lee gets the engine going, kenny comes and ben immediately has to go babysit katjaa clem and duck (he is also visibly upset) AND THEN later on lee asks how ben was doing and he says ‘im watching the girls and not working on a mega cool train’ (let him on the train immediately 😠😠)

- ok, so maybe he did sneak supplies to the bandits and i think this is just me being biased but i feel like him giving the supplies held off the bandits a little. i mean think about it, they moved on from the st john’s farm and started taking from the motel, right? im not sure how the bandits asked ben (if they made it clear then i forgot) but if he refused wouldnt the bandits come attack even earlier? i mean they needed the supplies right, and if ben didnt give them anything to begin with they would have raided the motel anyway. i mean they knew where they were even before the st john incident. idk its just a thought

- i think it was cool how ben managed to confess to lee that he was the one who slipped the bandits supplies. like you can tell ben is a good guy cause the guilt was almost literally eating him from the inside. and even though ben isnt one of the bravest people, he still confessed knowing that lee’s reaction wouldnt be pretty. (also his stance when leaning on the train railing was so silly to me)

- after they meet christa and omid, ben tells lee that his biggest fear was to be eaten by the walkers. i mean he literally said that if he got bitten he would off himself 😢😢

- also ben was always referred to as a child but he was never treated like one, everyone excpected him to be brave and strong but in reality he was just some scrawny highschool student who was scared and couldnt live up to his impossible standards. man, i really just wanna give ben a big hug

- if you tell ben to “kill anything that gets in” he responds with “you know you’re talking to me, right?” poor ben

- even though his biggest fear is getting eaten by walkers, you still have the option to leave him behind, and let him go at the bell tower. i mean how could u do this to him hes already gone through enough

- lastly, the part where ben tells off kenny is literally iconic, that scene singlehandedly made ben one of my favourite characters of all time, i was like everyone else, i didnt care about ben because i thought he was a bad guy since i never really payed attention to him. but i swear when he was telling kenny off it felt like i was being told off too. i mean his point was valid too, kenny had his family to say goodbye to, and ben (and literally everyone else) never got to see their family, (or they saw them as walkers, lee and clem,, :( )

- i know the last point was meant to be the last one but cmon its ben i could type this for ages longer but yeah. he had the literal best character development in the game. at first he was some stupid kid who was always messing up and before he died he was an amazing character who deserved literally everything. omg i cried so hard when he died cause when he fell i was like, oh i think its ok the fall wasnt too far and he said he only hurt his leg, but bro once we saw what really happened my heart sank bro it was so sad i really hoped nothing bad happened to him ☹️☹️ but i think kenny did the right thing cause like we said, his worst fear was the walkers getting to him. gosh i feel like i watched his death for the first time ages ago and i still cant stop thinking about him man

anyways, i would literally do anything to give ben a massive hug, he did his best and he was literally so funny too :((

(thanks if u read this far btw, i just wanted to rant about this man i love him so much and i will defend him with my life) 😠‼️

#ben twdg #ben paul twdg #the walking dead game #twdg #ben paul #twdg lee #twdg clementine #twd #telltale games #twdg kenny

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sylvies-kablooie · 4 months

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tbh, i think the whole thought process behind how sylvie is written is that she is not attached to loki and her happiness doesn't at all depend on him in any way.

was their connection deep? did he impact her? "shatter" her world even? yes. this is why she is so angry at him. bc in her mind, he had betrayed her.

but he doesn't take up much more space in her mind. she goes on to live her life just fine without him at the end of both seasons.

loki is a different story, he is obsessed with her to the point of doing something completely "out of character" and being ready to sacrifice everything for her.

i personally love how "unequal" their relationship is in this way, but i understand that it's not the majority of shippers' cup of tea kind of dynamic.

this is an interesting interpretation! i enjoy getting to hear people's differing takes on their dynamic, so this was a fun read. and hey if unrequited is your trope then all the more power to you. you're braver than me, that's for sure.

i haven't rewatched s2 (and tbh idk if i ever will- it just didn't do it for me the way i wanted it to) but the consensus that "loki fell first and harder" def seems supported by s1 and enhanced by s2. which i think made it all the more shocking when she kisses him first. i love that little detail.

i have a different take, which is informed by episode 5- particularly the bar scene contrasted with the record shop scene. she tells him to go and live his life and move on, then immediately goes to a record shop, tells the man at the counter she had a bad day, and then cries to the velvet underground (it looked like crying, also possible she was just laying there and basking it all in, which is just as compelling in my opinion).

to me that read as someone who is trying so hard to place their feelings in a convenient little box and ignore them and then running away when it doesn't work.

sylvie doesn't strike me as someone who can sit still, especially not after living through a million apocalypses and trying to ensure her survival. and while getting a job in oklahoma might not be the same frantic pace she's used to, i do think she threw herself into it (employee of the month placard i'm looking at you!) so she has a new life, a new job, time to do things like go to the bar and get a haircut and listen to music and do everything possible to just. not. process. the annoying feelings that the citadel situation brings up. just keep moving! just don't think about it! and so when loki rolls up at her work, she tries to push him away, tell him he's the last thing she wants to deal with, get him to leave. the tone in the bar scene felt like that to me as well. like she's saying just leave me so i can stop thinking about this.

of course, loki does not want to leave her- it's just that for some reason he is physically incapable of talking about anything but the TVA, who ruined her life and she justifiably wants nothing to do with hearing about how great they actually are. he is pretty skilled at killing the mood. (i take great pleasure in rewrite fics that make a show of addressing this)

am i blinded by shipping goggles and my own projection onto her? it's possible! but to me it read as someone in denial. when we hear sylvie talk about her love life on the train in s1 (a scene i LOVE because it seems so out of left field for her) we get a very clear sense she has no idea what she is doing when it comes to romance (and then flat out says so during the blanket scene). her experience with romance hasn't been anything real, to the point where i hesitate to even use the term "romance"- just centuries of numbing herself by staying busy with a fling. she is like a shark that will just collapse if she stops moving. which we get to see her do in the record store!

that's just how i read it though! your read on it is just as valid and i like hearing all of the different takes. i am by no means trying to persuade you to join my pining sylvie agenda, just using this blog as a means of idea exchange. which i love doing. seriously it's so fun.

#i was really happy to wake up to this in my inbox so thank u anon :) u made my day!!!!#i do think she had a hope that he would come back for her and then she cringed at experiencing that and shoved it down further #shoutout to that person on twitter that made the post contrasting her telling loki to move on in the bar #with her breaking down in the record shop and said “her ass did NOT mean that”#because i have had it saved in my screenshots since November and i laugh every time #i agree. her ass did not in fact mean that.#or maybe if she did it's a manner of “please leave so that i don't have to think about this anymore”#i got the sense in the bar scene that she was asking him to choose her and he didn't. and miscommunication i hate u.#anyway let me know what you think!#this was pretty hastily typed up so i might change things later. maybe not. we shall see i guess.#loki series #sylki #pro sylki #sylvie #sylvie laufeydottir #juni answers #juni analysis

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cara-carabowditbowdit · 7 months

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please tell me more about crowley and aziraphale im Very interested /srs

ok so. this is gonna be a looong post sorry

BASICALLY. aziraphale is an angel, crowley is a demon. theyve known each other for 6,000 years, at the creation of the universe (when crowley was still an angel. he created stars and everything. very nice job) and theyve become great... friends (wink) even though theyre not supposed to be! so theyre not friends! theyre eeeevil enemies. and then they go out for dinner

anyways. idk how to explain it well but theyre just SOOOOO!!

ok so now im going to try and do like. a whole thing explaining everything below so SPOILERS!!!!

okay so. in the beginning aziraphale and crowley were both angels. they met when crowley was making stars and galaxies and all that pretty stuff, and aziraphale came to say that they were going to shut it down after a bit. crowley gets upset and goes whaaaa this is so cool why would they do that (lil thing to note. aziraphale is like. interested in crowley but he doesnt really care) and then they have some really nice scene

d'aww. ok and so THEN! some big war happens i think? i dont know they dont show that part and crowley falls. demon moment!!! and then they go through all these different decades being friends, getting to know each other, and its great. aziraphale sins a little bit (gluttony), crowley saves aziraphales books, and they all have fun. oh btw. crowley can transform into a snake, and apparently hes the one that caused adam and eve to eat the apple? BUT! theres this other great scene where theyre talking, and its revealed that aziraphale gave his flaming sword to adam and eve, showing that he loves humans and has a soft spot for them, and theres this other great shot

THE PARALLELS!!!!!!!!! AUUUGh (^ this one came before. btw) and so this is sort of them showing how ohh, theyre not supposed to hang out because angel good demon evil waaah but they just KEEP ON FINDING EACH OTHER. oh and. speaking of like. showing off different softer sides of them. in season 2, theres a lot of bits where they show that crowley is pretty much putting up this show of being so meaaan and eeevil but hes actually nice and cares about humans (bringing jobs kids back, keeping that girl from dying, etc). ok now onto talking about season one. warning i havent watched this season in a bit so this is just me going off memory.

ok so! the big issue this season is "oh noooo we lost the antichrist!! big bad things gonna happen" and its awesome. OK SO. it starts off with crowley delivering the antichrist to this satanist church? and theres two women having babies that night. ONE is a normal family, who are supposed to have a normal baby. THE OTHER ONE is a rich family who is supposed to have the EEEVIL baby. can u guess what happens. BABY SWITCH!!! they didnt realize it tho so crowley and aziraphale are sent after the wrong baby. (to make him sin/be good) and then they realize on his 11th? birthday "aw crud! wrong baby." and go on some search to find the right antichrist. and that brings us to ADAM!!! hes the antichrist, and one coooooool kid. hes pretty normal tho and just hangs out with his friends. and then one day on his 11th birthday this dog shows up! (hellhound) and then off on the side theres this witch lady named anathema device who has a book that knows the future. crazy stuff. oh and this guy names newt whos kinda a dork and talks to this weird witch hunter guy shadwell and his neighbor madame tracy. oh and the four horseman of the apocalypse are around and free OKAY. into it now. anthma knows something bad is going to happen (book), and she moves to london because thats where its gonna happen!! whaaaat!!! and newt moves to london because uhh. witch finder i think? and he goes to meet shadwell and accidently meets tracy. not important rn. shadwells kinda bonkers and freaks newt out. ok now onto anathema. im pretty sure that aziraphale and crowley were driving around (oh btw. he has a magic bentley) and hit her!! yeoch. and after driving her home she accidentally leaves her book in the bentley and aww they gotta meet up again aw shucks. okay now they go searching for adam (antichrist) and i dont think they find him? anyways i forgot how but then tracy shadwell newt and anathema all meet up with crowley and aziraphale and do a seance. i forgot what about but ohh nooo aziraphale is in madame tracys body!!! ok so i kinda forgot how again but somehow theyre all at some big area and the four horsemen and running around i forgot what theyre doing and BLAM ADAM SHOWS UP hes mad. hes trapped his friends into doing what he wants. hes gonna start the apocalypse. average 11 yr old stuff. BUT!!! crowley and aziraphale manage to calm him down and newt blows something up. idk whats going on anymore. satan comes out, "grrrah im ur father adam". its a nice lovely moment. but oh wait!!! gabriel (heavens big man) and beezelbub (hells high duke) come down/up and r like "yall r in biiiig trouble! cant be doin all this" and they try to kill both of them. aziraphale in hellfire, crowley in holy water. that scene comes and yoo wait theyre both alive??? this is insane!!!! theyre both MILKING it, bein dramatic and then. at the end. WHAOOOAH THEYRE ACTUALLY THE OTHER ONE?????

and thats the end of season one. okay so i know that this is incredibly long but im not even done. im going to reblog this later with me talking about season two and that should be shorter. OH BTW

thats what everyone looks like ^^

OKAY BYE!!!!!!

#this might be the longest post ive ever made #AND IM NOT EVEN DONE #second season should be more accurate cuz ive watched it recently tho #thanks for the ask tho!! this was fun #good omens #gomens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman

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signanothername · 1 year

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Been thinking about Mikey’s powers nonstop and I gotta actually talk about it or I’ll explode

Ok so one headcanon that most the fandom agrees on is that Mikey’s hands and arms gotten hurt after the events of the movie, which is a very logical conclusion to have

Here’s the thing tho

I don’t headcanon it myself, I’m more “Mikey’s hands are actually pretty ok after opening the portal to save Leo”

Why do I think that tho?

We see F!Mikey literally dying after opening a portal, and he’s a lot more powerful than his teen counterpart, so it’d be illogical to think that teen Mikey (who’s still a novice and a lot less powerful) to just be ok after opening a portal himself, and you’re absolutely right for thinking that

Just cause I think Mikey’s hands/arms were ok doesn’t mean I think Mikey was ok after the events of the movie, I just think that his powers affected him in a bit of a different light

Kay so one thing I wholeheartedly believe is that the turtles’ Ninpō is connected to one another, and in a way it protects them whenever they share a certain power beyond what they could handle

and that’s why it takes F!Mikey’s life but not teen Mikey, F!Mikey didn’t have the rest of his brothers to take a load of his powers and it’s obvious from how he looks a lot older than he should be that using his powers takes away from his life force

Junior asks Mikey to “help” Leo at the beginning of the movie, making me believe Mikey works as a healer for the resistance, and it makes sense considering medical supplies are hard to come by in the apocalypse, and the fact Mikey looks pretty old, I believe Mikey used his powers to heal people’s injuries and that in turn takes away from his own life

Back to my og point, teen Mikey’s hands start cracking exactly like F!Mikey’s hands, signaling he might meet the same fate, except in teen Mikey’s case, Don and Raph stand beside him, put their hands on each of his shoulders and let him know they��re with him

And we can see the cracks of his magic breaking away, after Raph and Don shared the load with him, what’s curious to me tho, is how Raph and Don’s arms start cracking like Mikey’s, but once they reach their shoulders (specifically the shot of Don’s shoulder mark that glows for a second) the cracks disappear

It’s like Don’s and Raph’s powers fought against Mikey’s powers in a way? Or maybe quite the opposite and simply worked with Mikey’s powers? Idk how to describe it so I’m leaving the screenshots man

Another thing I find really interesting, is that Mikey doesn’t seem to be struggling with keeping the portal open, he only struggled with opening it, so that means certain actions are easier than others, which makes a lot of sense

Opening a portal? Could kill him

Holding the portal open? Piece of cake

Closing the portal? Bitch please

F!Mikey didn’t have his older brothers to take a load of the damage that could come from his powers, hence why they take his life, and with the apocalypse, I wholeheartedly believe F!Mikey had to take some reckless decisions many times that affected his health and in turn made him weaker and weaker as time went on (physically speaking not mentally or magic wise)

Anyway, that’s why to me at least, the headcanon that teen Mikey’s hands end up damaged after the movie kinda misses the point of the entire scene with Raph and Don holding his shoulders

Then again to assume Mikey’s absolutely alright physically is just illogical, so to me I like to believe Mikey did suffer from physical consequences, but not his hands/arms

Considering that Mikey’s powers might be connected to his life force, I believe he could’ve suffered from really bad fatigue, maybe even fell ill for a few days or even weeks, it might’ve even affected his appetite and physical strength, making it a bit harder to be as energetic as he usually is and making it harder to Razzamatazz

And yes it might age him a lot faster than his brothers if he uses his powers relentlessly and recklessly

Anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk

#anothers ramble #rottmnt #rottmnt mikey

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cha1cedony · 4 months

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Just woke up in the middle of the night and about to try to get back to sleep again but: if Grant Wilson had the chance to live as any kind of bug for idk 24 hours? What kind of bug do you think he’d choose and, if it’s different, which bug do YOU think would suit him best? 🥰

OH MY GOODNESS. This is the best thing anyone’s ever asked me HAHAHA. For context… I love bugs (and Grant ofc) SOOO much

Ahem. Okay. Okay. This is a multi-faceted question. And I plan to be very annoying about it 😁‼️‼️‼️ I’m going to put it under a break bc I actually spent (too much) time rambling and overthinking this lol

WARNING: Very long and nonsensical Grant bug ramble below. Also, there are images of insects and spiders!

The Grant Bug Post

24-hour bug survival (lmao)

As much as I love bugs (using that term very loosely in this post btw), I doubt Grant would WANT to be a bug for a day (because he is no fun!!! 😤👎 /lh). However, let’s say he’s fighting an entomologist acolyte (who used to be one of Henry’s co-docents at the natural history museum or something lol) and is turned into a bug for 24 hours, but he gets to choose the bug beforehand.

In this situation, Grant would go for a tactical bug, but he probably also has limited knowledge of bugs (again, no fun). His pick would need to be resilient and small enough to hide/run quickly. I don’t think he would go for something that can actually do much damage; he’d rather wait out the 24 hour period. Cockroaches infamously can take a few stomps, can hold up to radiation (which mayyy have been important in pre-Code Purple apocalypse Earth?), and can kinda scurry around and hide and survive on trash for a day. They also live for about a year (not that Grant would probably know that), so in case something went awry and he WASN’T immediately turned back after 24 hours, he would live longer than other bugs, giving the other kiddads enough time to hopefully figure something out (although, if Nicky’s problem-solving skills are any evidence, they probably would NOT figure out a way to turn Grant back 😔 lol)

If Grant was in a similar situation, but he NEEDED to defend himself/others (instead of just running and hiding), I can imagine him going for something that both flies and stings, like a bee or wasp: feels sniper-y, satisfies both his violent and self-sacrificial tendencies, etc. Unfortunately, one sting is not gonna get the job done, unless maybe the acolyte is allergic to bees :) Grant is very headstrong and unfortunately would definitely launch himself into battle as fuckin bee if he was in a bad mood. Hopefully, in this situation, the other guys would be there to hold him back from becoming a bee and immediately dying 😭

I was also trying to think of bugs (or bug-adjacent creatures) that shoot projectiles of any kind (because sniper lol), but I can only think of bombardier beetles, which shoot explosive liquid out of their abdomens (very cool, but Grant would not know about them).

PS: Snails can also shoot hormonal projectiles called “love darts” that are used to determine assert sexual dominance and which snail will be male/female for reproduction (since they’re hermaphroditic) but. That’s definitely not applicable here 😭😭 I just wanted to share. They also have bad aim, so Grant could never be a snail 🙄 hehehah

For fun :)

Aside from missions or life/death situations, the only time I think Grant would willingly become a bug for 24 hours (<- CRAZY phrase LMAO) is to make Lincoln happy :) Link’s favorite animals are caterpillars, and I can imagine Grant finding some kind of item/spell to turn himself into a bug and IMMEDIATELY dropping everything to be Link’s pet caterpillar for the day hehe. Some kind of friendly, cute caterpillar who won’t make Lincoln itchy… or turn into a butterfly and fly away 🥲 He would even let Link shake him around in a jar for a little while (he always scolds Link for trying to keep bugs in jars hehe). That way, he gets to encourage Link’s interests in a way that is VERY safe for all parties involved. If Grant had to pick ONE bug for to become, I think he would go with a caterpillar, unless he was in the special situations I described above. (Maybe I should’ve put this paragraph higher up! :p)

Google (more specifically, this website—that’s right; I’m citing my sources in the Grant bug post 😎) says monarchs and anise swallowtails are common in southern California, and they’re both big and cute and not too prickly, so I can imagine those being some of Link’s favorites :) I think his favorite is the monarch specifically (the yellow stripey one below) but Grant likes the swallowtail (the green spotted one)

Kid/teen Grant

As a kid, I think Grant was probably grossed out by bugs and would NOT want to be one (again, boring smh). I was trying to think of a soccer-related bug, but the best I can come up with is a dung beetle 😬 He would NOT want to be a dung beetle. There are unfortunately no gamer bugs (except maybe the Pikachu spider shown below, but Grant would not like spiders, nor would he really care about Pokemon). Bugs should try playing Fortnite, I think

Assigning him a… bugsona? lol

OKAY. On to the more important question… What bug do I think Grant would be? I’m actually shocked I’ve never thought about it before because, in past fandoms I’ve been in, I have a history of making lists of what bug each character would be. Very self-indulgent, I know. Shush. I’m being self-indulgent right now 😤 I think I’ll make a list of potential bugs for each DnDads character… ANYWAY

My immediate reaction to this question was some kind of beetle. Grant actually has always reminded me a LOT of an old anthropomorphic beetle OC I had in high school :) He was a green stag beetle—Lamprima adolphinae—and I think it suits Grant really well!

As a character, Grant generally feels very beetle-ish to me; he is very big and imposing with a tough exterior, both physically and metaphorically. BUT he can also be very lovey, easily embarrassed, bookish, a little geeky, etc. which I associate with these beetles in particular mostly just because of that old OC I mentioned before. And they’re GREEN! Grant is green (in my heart and mind hehe). It’s perfect B)

I know my initial cockroach mention might’ve sounded funny, but I can definitely imagine Grant as a roach o_o !!! Again, they’re wide and sturdy and headstrong, but flighty/skittish at the same time. Very Grant. I also could see him being an assassin bug. The name works for him too haha 🥲🥲

I could also MAYBE imagine him as other similarly sleek bugs, like a bald-faced hornet, but I think beetles or true bugs (assassin bugs, cicadas, etc.) suit him best. I can’t really imagine him being a small bug

Okay. Okay. Phew. I cannot believe I wrote THIS MUCH about bug Grant. If only I could write this much of my fic this fast lmao 😭

MY FINAL VERDICT…. 🥁🥁🥁

I think Grant would choose to be a cockroach 🪳 for survival purposes, but he would easily be a caterpillar 🐛 to make his son happy. If I had to give Grant a.. bugsona?, it would be a stag beetle 🪲 for sure! :)

If you actually read all of this, uhhh thank you???? 🐞 <- here’s a lucky ladybug for you. PLEASE tell me your DnDads bug opinions if you have any I’d love to hear them 🙏 Maybe someday I will draw the main characters as anthro bugs (bc that’s like. the only thing I can draw heheh)

Thanks so much to Isadora for sending this ask omg!!!! :’) I saw it a little bit ago while doing schoolwork, and I was super excited to write this silly post, so it helped motivate me to finish. Feeling a lot better :) Sorry I wrote such a long response haha! PS: I hope you got some sleep!!! >:0

#chalcy stuff #long post #ask #should I tag this……. 😭😭#grant wilson #not tagging this with the main dndads tags. it’s too silly #bugs #insects #cw insects #cw bugs #<- hopefully that covers my bases 🤞

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ineffable-human · 9 months

Text

Season 2 (potential) Clues

Get ready for another theory post y'all we don't have enough clearly

GIF made with help by @afhyer

Being a collection of things I found weird/noteable in Season 2 that could be potential Clues for Season 3. (and my theories, some sound, some crackpot)

Note 1: I use my dudes non-genderedly

Note 2: I am not tech savvy enough to get screenshots from Scamazon or make gifs or anything so sorry for the low-quality phone images/lack of images in some cases

Jim and the God Possession

Jim and the whole memory loss thing was a great part of the show, but it did bring up some interesting moments when Jim got God-possessed (As I like to call it). These moments prove to be fairly crucial, especially the first one.

It’s through the God-voice that Aziraphale and Crowley get to thinking about the Job job. Now I have oodles of theories about what this does to/for them, but ultimately I think it comes down to relaying two main ideas. 1. There’s always a work around to the main problem

2. Demons (and to an extent angels) have free will/a choice

Now the second one is less God-like but still leads us (and Crowley) into the minisode about the magic show. Here we learn two more important pieces of information.

1. There’s such a thing as a miracle block

2. Aziraphale and Crowley can pull off tricks without needing to use miracles

My (crackpot-ish) Theory: knowing Gabriel is commonly referred to as God’s messenger in many bibles/renditions, I think it’s likely that he got redirected to Aziraphale’s shop by God to deliver these messages.

Aziraphale’s reactions during the Beelzebub/Gabriel scene

They’re feckin’ weird, my dudes.

I noticed two things right off the bat.

First. His lovey-dovey face.

Okay, I know we all know that Aziraphale feels love and that he loves love, but that doesn’t seem to be the entirety of what’s going on here. Look at that face! LOOK AT IT!

Extremely crackpot theory: Aziraphale knew about Gabe and Beelz’s relationship ahead of time.

Most likely theory: Aziraphale is happy seeing proof that it’s possible to find something more important than choosing sides

(couldn't get a gif but watch it cause there's certainly a thought pattern going on when this happens) Second. His reaction when Crowley tells Gabriel and Beelzebub about Alpha Centauri. He looks both saddened and regretful. WHY? Not just because he rejected Crowley once, but because (crackpot theory) he knows he’s gonna have to reject him again!!! Idk whatever way you look at it that’s QUITE the reaction to Crowley giving away their spot like that.

Crowley's reactions after

Let’s start with whatever Crowley is up to when the angles are all talking.

He’s just off, lounging in the chair. Doing nothing. Doesn't even RESPOND when Michael threatens to erase Aziraphale. Mr. I DID NOT CARE FOR IT, just sits there and lets that go unanswered. WHY??? Even if the book of life isn’t real like he claims, it’s still a little out of character for him to just do nothing at all. And the fact that he just sends Azirpahale off with the Metatron after is like…bruh really?

Okay now, go look at Crowley AFTER Aziraphale goes for a chat with the Metatron. IDK about anyone else but this boy does not look happy. (couldn't get any clear shots SOB) He looks angry when he’s talking to Muriel about the breakfast. And when was the last time he mentioned needing an extreme amount of alcohol? When they were trying to stop the first apocalypse.

I know that everyone’s thinking he’s all excited and happy to go see Aziraphale and get together etc. But this all happened BEFORE Maggie and Nina walked over to tell him to confess.

My Theory: Crowley does know Aziraphale, and knows how badly he wants to work with heaven and be good and all that jazz. Which is why he’s anticipating Aziraphale coming back to say, hey I’ve been offered a job. He expects them to go talk it over at breakfast and is preparing to say goodbye/help him come up with a plan to stop armageddon pt2. But then he gets the idea to confess and Aziraphale hits him with the ‘be an angel again yay’ whammy, and he just loses it.

The Non-Acceptance Acceptance

Something just interesting to note…the Metatron sends Aziraphale into the bookshop with a ‘take your time, we don’t need an answer right away’ but then comes in right after Crowley leaves acting as if Aziraphale said yes all along.

Theory (potentially crackpot): The Metatron (potentially with the help of demon Maggie{I got ideas, my duded}) manipulated and orchestrated their breakup by getting them both to a heightened state of emotions and throwing them together. He knew Aziraphale would get into a fight with Crowley and that Crowley was the only reason he wouldn’t go with them.

The Coffee and the Embassy

Do I wish the coffee was super drugged and Aziraphale was not himself? Yes. But let’s put that idea aside and just look at the facts.

I’m gonna start with how weird it is that the bookshop is still an embassy. Aziraphale does call it an ex/past-heaven outpost, but it’s still his and still has heavenly power. Whereas Crowley lost his flat when he lost his job.

Why is this? It’s possible that the flat was owned by hell whereas Azirpahale bought the shop himself. But it still doesn’t explain why heaven was still ‘protecting’ the home of a ‘traitor’.

My theory for this does concern the coffee. But not the drink itself or what may or may not be in it. Rather, the way it’s presented to Aziraphale.

First, the Metatron says some of the things in that weird way of his, like the “hefty jiggy of almond” and whatnot. It sounds very ‘hint-hint wink-wink nudge-nudge’ to me, like he’s talking in code to Aziraphale.

Second, Aziraphale says that there’s nothing left to talk about, and he’s made his position quite clear. The only time we’ve seen them talk was in Season 1 when Aziraphale tries to talk to God. And in that conversation, Aziraphale didn’t say anything about his *position*.

My theory: Azirapahle and the Metatron talked at some point between S1 end and S2 end. Most likely very closely after S1 ended, and Aziraphale did something (perhaps made a deal) where he was able to keep the shop and maintain its embassy status.

Addendum HELLA CRACKPOT like so cracky it’s just a giant hole: Metatron secretly good guy come at me XD

The flow of the fight

So I won’t go deep into my big crazy theory about the fight being fake, but I will point out the strange things I noticed, why they feel off, and what I think it might mean…. I also could not garner the energy to take pictures of this scene sorry SOB

First, Aziraphale when he’s telling Crowley the ‘good news’. He keeps glancing out the window. As if checking that the Metatron is still watching. And if he’s watching, we don’t know if he’s maybe listening too. And Azirpahale’s whole attitude in this opening bit feels kind of like his stage-presence.

Next, we get the weird half-information about the talk with the Metatron. We don’t really see the full convo, which is part of the point, I believe. We don’t even know if that conversation happened at all.

After that, Crowley gets thrown for a loop with the whole restoring angel status, obvs. But then they go right into their old fight of heaven and hell and good and bad. Which was, I think, the main thing that’s a little off here. And that’s because of how much Aziraphale noticed and was seen noticing those ‘light-grays’ of the world and of the whole situation. The entire graverobbing bit was him learning that the difference between good and bad and right and wrong are blurred/a matter of how you view things.

Yes, the miscommunication is the main issue here, but the fact that the good/bad debate comes up again is interesting to note. Especially since it’s Aziraphale that pulls the hell is bad heaven is good card. If we go on the idea that this conversation is being bugged and they’re trying to talk between talking, it kind of seems like Crowley is throwing out the ‘I thought we weren’t choosing sides???’ and Aziraphale brings up the good/bad to indicate that it’s not about choosing sides but about doing what’s *right* (like saving goats and children).

Next, Crowley hits us with the line about heaven ending life on earth. Because he knows the angels were planning a second armageddon. Now I don’t believe that Crowley, for however hurt he is, believes that Aziraphale would willingly go along with that plan. But Azirpahale doesn’t know about it, right? This out of place line (in direct response to heaven being the side of truth light and good) is Crowley’s way of cluing Aziraphale in on the bigger picture. Note, specifically, the pause before Crowley speaks again as Aziraphale processes that.

Aziraphale didn’t say no, but he also didn’t say yes. I think this is the key point in the argument. Aziraphale just learned that heaven is still planning to try and destroy Earth. And he knows that if he does nothing, they probably will. So here he is, essentially accepting the job so that he can put a stop to it. And here he is trying to tell Crowley that’s his plan

Crowley understands what’s going on. And he decides to confess, right? This confession gets *interesting*. First, Aziraphale glances out the window when Crowley says they’re a team, yes? Because he’s still checking for Metatron’s presence. Second, Aziraphale looks confused by Crowley’s line of reasoning. Crowley is talking about them relying on each other and working together, but Aziraphale’s idea of that (in this situation anyway) would be him coming to heaven to help.

Crowley’s eyes wander a lot, but he also looks pointedly out the window at one point, while he’s struggling to get the words out. And I think that he’s trying to get his confession out while knowing that they’re being watched/listened to. I mean, gosh it’s tough enough to confess let alone when someone is watching.

As to why Crowley decided to confess: I don’t think it’s an act of desperation to get Aziraphale to choose him over heaven and just abandon everything. I think it’s his act of desperation to get Aziraphale to realize that going to heaven has BIG FUCKING TRAP written all over it and that they can do more to fix things together on Earth than anywhere/way else. And Aziraphale pulls a similar move by asking him to come with him. He knows it’s dangerous and he does need Crowley there to help.

Now this is another weird turn in the convo. After Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with him again, Crowley throws out ‘you can’t leave the bookshop’. And Aziraphale responds with the ‘nothing lasts forever’. Now I’m sure I’m missing something here because both of these lines feel so weird and out of place I’m gonna assume they are some kind of code or I’m dense about the line of reasoning here.

What’s really interesting tho is that Aziraphale looks kind of…hopeful? After he says it, right before Crowley walks away. Like he was expecting some kind of different reaction to that line. Maybe Crowley missed the Clue, too.

After that, it’s easy to see why Aziraphale would stop him from leaving and reharp on the point of them working together in heaven. He doesn’t know if Crowley fully understands the Plan, or if he’ll help when Aziraphale needs him. And he’ll definitely need him.

Then we get another little shift in the mood/convo. Aziraphale gets angry/frustrated, possibly because Crowley isn’t picking up on the idea. We’re so used to seeing Crowley get angry in their fights, but the few times Aziraphale does get angry he gets *angry*. Here, however, he’s clearly trying to mask it.

Okay, the whole Nightingales line, imma be honest, made no sense. Like, in the fandom it makes sense because of the song, but like, in the depths of this conversation I was like ??? what a strange way to put it. But Aziraphale does react to it, so we have to assume there’s something about it that they both understood/knew. (I will touch BRIEFLY on my ‘the entire argument was a magic trick bit’ to say that this is Crowley letting Aziraphale know that the kiss/his feelings aren’t part of the scheme).

I don’t even know with the whole ‘I forgive you’ bit, man. There’s a lot of ideas, but the way Aziraphale’s face changes from shocked, to sad, to angry, to immediate regret after says a lot as well. Crackpot theory: Aziraphale trying to change Crowley to an angel early by ‘forgiving’ him as the new supreme archangel so he can kidnap him away to heaven.

After the Fight

NOW! An important thing to note after the fight! When the Metatron mentions the second coming, yeah Aziraphale get’s that OH SHIT face. But I don’t think it’s an ‘oh shit they are up to no good’ face. It’s an ‘oh shit this is a different beast than just shutting down another apocalypse’. And the way he looks at Crowley after is very much a ‘help me I’ve bitten off more than I can chew’ kinda look.

Also a potentially important thing. Crowley’s face is pretty blank during both that and the driving away. Which is weird because his face is usually so expressive you can tell what he’s feeling even with the glasses on. He looks more…pensive than sad to me but that Could Just Be Me.

Aziraphale's fucking smile at the end

I mean just look at that, lil bastard. That’s totally a hahaha I FOOLED THEM face. Enough said.

The miracle block and Aziraphale's failed Jedi mind trick

Putting aside the totally real possibility that Maggie is a demon (further evidence available upon request), I thought it was weird that Aziraphale’s little jedi mind trick to try and get her to leave/forget about the night didn’t work.

Where else did we see miracles not work? The magic show!

My theory: Someone put a miracle block on the bookshop during the invasion. My addendum theory: It was Maggie

The weird music sting and Mrs. Chen

Furfur did mention that he could muster up a feel of illease/malcontent, but this moment when Mrs. Chen is heading in and we get that little music sting feels very weird. It’s such a noticeable/long cut that it just feels like it’s gotta be something more.

And it’s a very similar music sting as when the Metatron gives Crowley his lil evil snarl face My theory: I don’t even have one, but there’s something there.

Crowley not remembering people/the thing about not seeing their faces

Okay this one kinda gets a little iffy but stick with me for a second. Twice in the show we see Crowley not remembering someone (first, Furfur and then Saraqael). Now, someone asked Neil Gaiman about this and iirc his answer was something along the lines of ‘who says Crowley sees people’s faces?’

So, from that answer (if we can trust anything he says XD), we can gather that Crowley recognizes people based more on their aura/soul than their physical features.

Now then, this is an interesting thing to keep in mind when you see his reaction to new Beelzebub and Jim.

When he sees Beelzebub, he does immediately recognize a difference. But it’s important to note here: Beelzebub mentions they’ve had that face for ages. Remember this.

When he sees Jim, he recognizes him as Gabriel, even though we could suspect/assume that his aura/soul looks different since losing his memories and angel powers.

But what’s the real kicker, is that Crowley recognizes the Metatron off the fucking bat when none of the feckin’ angels do, despite probably having seen his giant floating head during the trial.!!!! AND let’s not forget the the Metatron instantly recognizes him as a demon and calls him as such when the rest of the season has shown multiple times that angels can’t immediately recognize demons (at least not on Earth)

Now, we can chock it up to, well yes Crowley would recognize their faces since he’s interacted with them more/more recently, but we should also keep in mind a very useful/common storytelling tactic: which is to make something important seem unimportant by playing it off as a joke.

A prime example is Jim and the fly. He tries to sway them with books, and makes a joke about gravity. But the fly did play an important role. The jokes distracted from the importance.

And both scenes of Furfur and Saraqael are played a bit as a joke from their reactions.

My theory: Crowley is suffering some kind of memory loss from the great war.

Addendum/Alternate theory: Some/Most demons got themselves new faces when they fell, and the face Beelzebub has now was their old angel one.

Gabriel and the Institutional Problem

I know the Scamazon subtitles were wrong BUT I WAS SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS AS A THEORY WHEN I FIRST WATCHED THAT I WANNA SHARE IT ANYWAY

When Jim is talking about what he remembers, he says “if it happens again, It can make it seem like an institutional problem.” But the og bad subtitles had him saying “if it happens again, *I* can make it seem like an institutional problem.” If the subtitles *were* correct it would put a pretty big disconnect between what the Metatron said in the trial and what Jim/Gabriel thought or said.

My now sadly discounted Theory: Gabriel was purposefully trying to expose the issues in heaven/lead to some kind of shenanigans that would shut down further apocalypse attempts. Crackpot Addendum: he was instructed to do so by God. ((And yes, if you're wondering, I did come back on Tumblr after like, 3 years of being gone just to post this nonsense thank you and goodnight!))

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens seaons 2 theories #good omens season 3 theories #good omens theories

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