#granted the person who said this had said this kinda shit before so like. that ice is broken through

[sopranoentravesti]

Man it’s really fun when goyim just cannot cannot resist letting rightful criticism of Israel descend into the whole “Jews control the media.”

Take it from someone who has bitched about Hasbara for longer than you’ve known what it was. Please stop saying shit about “Israel’s PR Army.”

[love-hs28]

Give me the chance to explain

Summary: You had been giving JJ the silent treatment all day and he can’t figure out why. It only takes you accidentally hurting yourself while cleaning for the two of you to see eye-to-eye.  Hurt/comfort & Angst  gn!reader CW: Reader accidentally gets cut with a shard of glass  1.3k words  Posted on: 5-24-24

a/n: My second post!! Hope you enjoy, I promise I'll write a happy one sometime haha :)

You and JJ are alone in the chateau one night while the others are out getting snacks for the movie night. They had convinced the two of you to stay home while they went out because you had kinda been fighting all day. ‘Fighting’ meaning you had been ignoring JJ and he had been desperately trying to get you to talk to him. 

You had all gone to a party the night before, and you thought you saw JJ flirting with another girl (granted, you never really gave him the chance to explain himself… you’d kind of just been shutting him out all day.) Kie, Pope, Sarah, and JB had also so kindly given you guys the job of cleaning up the chateau. There were beer bottles scattered around and paper plates and cups littering the floor. Right as the group walked out, you stood up from the couch and started cleaning up. 

JJ sighed and leaned back into his seat. “Y/n, come on. You gotta talk to me.” You continued cleaning up, moving into the kitchen to grab a trash bag to hold as you walked around. You had been giving him the silent treatment all day and he wasn’t having it anymore. “Y/n. This is bullshit, whatever this is can’t be fixed if you won’t even look at me! Come on, they expect us to have all our shit figured out when they get back, and honestly, I would like to not spend the rest of the night in awkward silence.” 

You sigh and bend down to pick up a beer bottle, but it slips out of your hand as you stand up and shatters on the floor. You straighten up and rub a hand over your face, take a deep breath, and roughly set the trash bag on the floor to crouch down and get ready to clean up the glass. JJ sighs again and stands up to come help you. “Here, let me help.” 

You stand up and push his hand away from the trash bag. “No! Cut it out, JJ, you know exactly why I’m acting like this! Quit pretending like you’re clueless and like you don’t know what’s wrong.” 

He frustratedly laughs and rubs a hand over his face. “For fucks sake, y/n, I’ve been trying to talk to you ALL DAY to understand why you’re so upset! I legitimately have no idea what I did wrong, so please, just cut the bullshit and tell me!”

It’s your turn to laugh now, and you aggressively sit on the couch and throw the trash bag on the floor. “No, YOU cut the bullshit. You can’t expect me to act perfectly fine when we go to a party and I see you flirting with the other girl who is basically THROWING herself at you and you just let it happen!” 

JJ looks at you like that’s the craziest thing any person has ever said. “Are you serious?? I was absolutely not flirting with another girl. Not only was I completely wasted, but I was literally with you the entire night.” 

You roll your eyes and get up from the couch to pick up the broken bottle. “Whatever, JJ. I’m done talking about this. If you wanna lie about being with that girl and about ‘being with me the entire night’ then go ahead, but you can do it to someone else because I’m not having this conversation anymore.”

JJ looks around like he’s about to go crazy. “Y/n. I swear to god. I was literally with you the entire night! From when we got there, to when we got drinks, to when we left! You’re acting ridiculous, I genuinely don’t know what you’re so mad about.” 

You stop in front of the damn glass shards once more and angrily pick up the trash bag again. “I just fucking told you what I’m mad about! And I never got drinks at the party, you did. You left about ten minutes after we got there and I didn’t see you again for the rest of the night.” 

JJ sits down and rubs his hands over his face. “I’m actually so confused right now. I know I was wasted but literally remember spending the whole night with you. We got drinks and danced and then left at like 2.” 

You shake your head, internally realizing that maybe he mistook some other girl for you. It had kinda been a rough week for you overall, and maybe you were overreacting just a little bit. “Whatever. Everyone’ll be back soon and I need to get this shithole cleaned up.” You start to pick up the shattered beer bottle but end up accidentally being too rough and cutting your hand on a big sharp piece. “Shit,” you hiss and suck in a breath, dropping the bag to hold your hurt hand in your other one. 

JJ looks up from his hands and sees you bleeding and immediately gets up. “Y/n, jesus.” You can feel tears prickling from the cut, and also probably from being stressed all day - no, all week. 

You pull away from JJ and wipe a tear with your good hand. You sniff and try to stand up. “I’m fine. Stop.” 

JJ puts one hand on your holder and the other on your elbow to gently make you sit down and kisses your head. “Let me help you, honey. Sit here, I’ll get the first aid kit.” 

You sit on the ground and clutch your hurt hand as tears stream down your face. You’re beginning to feel absolutely horrible for treating him like shit all day. 

JJ returns from the bathroom a minute later and sits next to you. “Sorry,” he whispers, “It was shoved under the sink. Took me a minute to find it.” 

You sniff and look away from him as he starts to clean out the cut. You can see him out of the corner of your eye and he keeps looking from your hand to your face. 

“Doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches. It should heal itself in a week or two.” Once he’s done cleaning it, he covers the cut and gives it a kiss. You let him hold your hand and rub it. 

You couldn’t stand not talking to him all day, and realize now that he made an honest mistake, and you felt like a complete bitch for acting the way you did. You guys had never fought like this before and it hurt so much that you knew you would do anything to prevent it from happening again. You start to cry and he gently pulls you into him. 

“Oh, honey.” He rubs your back as you cry and grab onto his shirt with your good hand. He sighs and starts softly talking. “I think you realized this by now, but I still want to say it so you know what happened. I thought I was with you the whole time at the party. I swear on my life. The other girl must have looked very similar to you, or maybe I was just wasted out of my mind, but I swear on everything I would never flirt with anyone other than you. I swear to you I remember being with you the entire night. Not some stupid touron. I would never do that to you.” 

You lift your head and rub your eyes, letting out a sigh. “I know. I think that’s why I got so upset about it. It wasn’t like you and it scared me. I’m sorry. I feel like a complete bitch, I should have just talked to you about it. I’m sorry.” 

JJ shakes his head softly and holds your face in his hands. “Don’t apologize. You had every right to be upset. If I was in your position I would have probably assumed the same thing. We just need to talk to each other first when things like this happen. I hate fighting with you, y/n. And I hate seeing you so upset, especially when I’m the one who caused it.”

You lean your forehead on his, and he kisses you sweetly. You sit like this for a few seconds more, then JJ starts to get up and helps you do the same. 

“Alright, let's get this shithole cleaned up before everyone comes back and bites our heads off, yeah?” 

You softly smile and nod, wiping your face again. JJ sweetly smiles and comes over and hugs you. 

“You and me forever, okay? I got you.” 

a/n: I hope you enjoyed, thank you to the moon and back for reading <3. Again, PLEASE leave requests, prompts, questions, or anything for me!! I want to make this a usual thing of posting so please give me any & all feedback. Love ya!

xoxo

[carakook]

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🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘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.❤️

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ 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.

[peaterookie]

Lupin Week 2024 Day 4: AUs and Mythology

Goemon's face looks like he's seen a ghost.

ahhhh god ok my stupid stupid silly au i made a year ago.... this will be a bit long so get ready

tldr: lupin died, the gang is alive. goemon finds lupin but he's a shark merman!? and lupin remembers nothing!!!

long version:

so this AU follows upon the story of shin lupin, which basically, the gang gets killed off by zenigata because he rigged an island full of explosives.

instead of them all dying however, lupin decides to knock the gang unconscious and find a way for them to escape off the island safely, leaving only him in the island to die.

the rest of the gang had no idea how they escaped and assumed that lupin had sacrificed himself for them. they woke up adrifted on the ocean until they eventually got picked up by a ship where the invisible captain from new adventures returns. but ah ill spare the details for another day

---

2 years have passed and the gang just kinda separated to do their own thing. we'll only focus on goemon cuz he's the featured character of this comic.

goemon decided to escape the life of crime that has burdened him for years living as a part of the lupgang. he's mostly a wanderer now and tries to do good and help people along the way

funnily enough, goemon is not the first person to find lupin, but I'll talk about this later. but goemon is definitely very mixed about seeing his friend who he thought was dead for years. he doesn't know whether to be happy or worried.

---

lupin, at the brink of death after the explosion, plummets down the ocean and wakes up one day, feeling like he's been rebirthed!

essentially, lupin became a merman because right before he could die, his body (i mean what's left of it 💀) interacted with a magic crystal that has the ability to grant life to a living being.

It's really rare, but it exists in clusters deep in the ocean floor or- deep under the rocks of an island :) you can say im bullshitting, which i am but i dont think exploding an entire island down to every rock has happened before, so it can kinda make sense why something so coincidental about these crystals could happen. (I AM TOTALLY MAKING EXCUSES I JUST WANTED TO MAKE LUPIN A MERMAN.)

and so these crystals used whats left of lupins body and reassembled him back, and idk other essences of the ocean to make him a merman!

the memories of his past life have definitely been buried deep inside his brain to the point he can't remember any of it though, so he thinks that he was born under the ocean and has lived there for his entire life. other than that he retains almost everything about himself, down to stealing stupid shit and messing with humans just for the fucks of it. he's kinda seen as like a nessie.

---

anyways, y'know how i said goemon wasn't the first one to meet lupin? that's because lupin has met zenigata before!

living a life with only fishes around means lupin's kinda lonely and likes to stalk humans sometimes. the interaction with him and zenigata did not end well though, and lupin has no idea why zeni wants him dead so much.

after that he's way more cautious around people that look like zenigata- hatted big men with guns. its gonna be fun once he sees jigen.

ok what else... i think that's all i want to reveal now. will i do more of this? maybe. maybe not. kinda embarrassed of this because of how silly it is but i hope you people find this interesting! byebye

[streaminn]

The streamer Enid au

---

Wednesday Addams sighted in San Francisco!

After the recent hit on her latest book: Viper de la Muerte: Lunal Curse, Wednesday Addams mentioned going off the grid for personal reasons. A hiatus from our so studious author? More likely than you think!

But what people definitely didn't think would happen is to see her out in and about in the streets of San Francisco. No one has been able to reach out as to why specifically she is in such a sunny place but the tall figure she was with might just give a hint! Several witnesses have mentioned them being rather close and isn't that so shocking from the usually touch averse writer of gore?

Read more at…

–

"Wednesday is here!?" squealed a streamer. She seemed a lot sparkly today, her bangs falling to frame the side of her face and her scars stretched as she smiled brightly at the camera.

This is Enid or Endespair if you want to go by channel name. She is a small twitch streamer who regularly posts her videos on YouTube and is known for her rather upbeat personality. The contrast of such a sunny person is why most would take a peak on how she would react whenever she'd play this year, month or day's horror game.

Safe to say, she reacted like most would do. Very loudly. Atleast at first, until slowly but surely you'd see her screams tamper from a shrill shriek to the barely contained jump. It has her chat becoming nefarious little shits and doing the best they can with horrible timed sound alerts and donations with text to speech.

She also is a werewolf and in a world where most are normies, a lot of people were rather intrigued and some monsterfuckers took solace by lurking in chat.

The mods had to ban a few people when the streamer bared her teeth at a character once or twice. For an outcast, Twitter murmurs that she's rather good at controlling her instincts.

Anyways, talking about Enid's background aside, the reason why she's squealing and clapping her hands like a seal today is for one reason alone.

Wednesday Addams, the ever so revered thriller and horror author. One who is very well known for her graphic depictions of gore in her books. It was a shock to some newcomers when the ever so jumpy Endespair genuinely loves and adores such literature but it definitely painted a confusing picture.

However, it isn't just the books that Enid loves but the author too.

Yeah, chat can put two and two together. Enid was simply a masochistic dog who liked things that scare her. All jokingly said of course, her fans know better than to push boundaries. But the contrast of such a colourful person enjoying all things dark and macabre is the opposites attract trope that most would fall for.

"Do you think I could try to bump into her?" Enid gasps before her brows furrowed. "Wait no that feels kinda creepy, seeking her out like that is weird as hell don't do that guys."

"so true, just go about your daily day and maybe luck will grant you a wish"

"I ROLLL UP IN A NEW BUGATTI"

"woo her with your cute beanies and sweaters!"

"imagine walking around with flowers, she likes black dahlias right?"

"this some gay shit right here"

Enid turned a little red at the support of her making a move towards the author, her cheeks blooming as she pushed up her glasses. "Now guys, it'd be weird if I just came up and besides!" she picked at her nails, a pretty colour of black turning to white, the sparkles of beads shining in the light. "She's here for vacation so let's not be bothersome."

"Tru Tru but who's stopping admiring!?!"

"pull some main character moment and bump into her at the grocery store"

"she's very pretty"

"one day streamer, one day"

The blond sighs, her hands cradling her chin as she pouts. "if only I could see her! Hopefully she's fine with a little hug or maybe a hand shake-" her hands flew about, a cheap attempt to explain. "For someone who only dresses in shades of black and white, she makes it work so well.." a dreamy sigh escapes Enid as she sinks into her arm.

"why's the stream tagged for RE when she's just simpin?"

"games extracting give her a sec"

"bc it's funneh"

"god I can't wait to see how she reacts to the daughters"

"streamer got a type and we will exploit it"

It's the ding of her pc that reminds her that she has a game to play and with a rather dramatic sigh, she straightened up in her seat to stare down at the newly extracted game.

Her brows furrowed as she grinned at the camera.

"Simping time over chat, let's get over my fear of flesh eating zombies over before dinner!" she cheered, clicking onto the new shortcut on her pc. The Pic of a half man and half wolf making her smile as she enters into Resident evil: Village

In an hour or two, the horrified stare of Endespair has people clipping as she watched Ethan get his hand cut and sipped on. The scene made her brows furrowed and her nose scrunched as a look of disgust came over her face.

"Oh God- that's disgusting," the horror in her tone is obvious but the blush splattering across her skin made others think that something was running through her head.

Enid ends the stream with a slump against her seat, a whole eight hours spent on the game as she finishes the Dimitrescu castle. It shouldn't have taken so long but she got distracted, lost and very confused so many times she considered quitting once or twice by the fifth hour.

Chat was as unhelpful as always but some donors took pity and helped her out. Luckily, after hours of mind numbing game play, she got through it.

As Ethan stumbles into the church and she saves, for some reason the sight of a typewriter brings a rather beautiful smile on her face as she leant on a hand. Chat chitters at the bared teeth, cheering and spamming.

“YOOOO ANOTHER CLIP FOR THE MONSTERFUCKERS”

“Those teef are BIG”

“With the headphones youd think she’s a normal”

“Lowkey forgot shes a werewolf until this, im so thankful for the reminder”

It makes Enid blink as she notices the rather fast speed chat. She rolls her eyes and gives a tight lipped smile this time, shoulders shaking at the influx of sad and pleading emojis.

So once the beating of her heart finally slowed, she couldn't help the sigh of relief as she sunk deeper into her comfy ass chair. But, such peace didn't last and her ears burned when she vividly remembered black gothic clothes on women.

When Enid managed to catch her breath and sit up, she pointed at the cam with way too bright cheeks.

"You guys know how I react to people in black!" she pulled her glasses off, rubbing at her eyes as she waved the frames around. "I should've known when you all clamoured for RE:8 instead of the fourth remake, yall are so luck-"

There's a ring of a phone and almost immediately, she perks up, nearly throwing her headphones off her hair as she stands to get her phone.

The stream ends suddenly after that.

–

Raven in love? Wednesday Addams seen with an unidentified man in San Francisco!

To think the ever so elusive Wednesday Addams would be out with a person today! We are just as shocked as you readers.

Our sources have seen the oldest Addams seemingly pressed next to this unidentified man in a park far from any noticeable place. Perhaps… Star crossed lovers? From the photos, the two would be friendly if this was any other person but to the Wednesday Addams, this is a completely different stance!

Read more in…

—

[minimoefoe]

Rewatch Thoughts: Rogue

I wish the ep started with 15 and Ruby showing up and seeing everyone dancing and being excited, kinda like Donna and 10 Unicorn and the Wasp vibes, rather than them already being in there idk

It’s a very difficult cheese lmao I like that little scene a lot

The fact Ruby sees Susan Twist yet again and doesn’t mention it to the Doctor at any point. They had other shit going on tbf nvm

‘Faster mover’ lmao. I like the Doctor’s vibe when he says that. Like he’s actually a bit shook by the fast moving. It’s more Doctor-y than the overt flirting in the rest of the ep.

Why would Rogue think that the Doctor was a Chulder when he’s been speaking like he’s from the future or whatever. If he WAS a Chulder don’t you think he would be playing pretend as a person from 1813. Not talking about the fuckin stars

Genuinely don’t see how ppl have said they’ve seen a gay vibe between Ruby and Emily. ur waffling sorry

I’m choosing to believe 15 doesn’t like being called Doc bc it makes him think of Graham and that makes him sad but tbh I do think 13 found Graham annoying sometimes so.. Maybe it reminds him of him in a bad way 😭

15 upping the Scottish accent and mocking Rogue’s American accent earlier lol

Shoutout to Kylie Minogue

15 being flustered over the psychic paper. Also 10/10 very Doctor-y 

New boss.. So Rogue is the Meep’s co-worker then. I wonder if whenever we meet the Boss they’ll make a reference to a person who ‘worked for them but disappeared’ aka Rogue

All the faces !!!!!

I feel nothing about Richard E Grant being there other than I know I don’t consider him in any part of the Doctor canon of my mind but I hope other ppl have fun arguing about where he should be in the timelines

The way Ruby awkwardly said ‘ah.. right’ after Emily told her who she wanted to marry made me think of Charlotte Ritchie in BBC Ghosts

15 singing before entering the TARDIS was a bit cringe

Rogue kinda is Jack just less whore-y and more romantic yknow

15’s solution to not killing the bird ppl being to send them to a barren dimension is sooooo funny like king you realise why that’s actually worse than killing right😭Unless we’re supposed to assume they can survive fine in this barren dimension? But the Doctor clearly sees it as a punishment when he thinks they’ve killed Ruby so presumably not

Rogue is very pretty I fear

I like that Rogue uses ‘they’ to refer to the person he lost idk why

‘I know the word OK’, Emily is so funny

The proposal making 15 actually freak out a bit and forget he’s acting lmfao

The Chulder’s actually using the word cosplay makes me cringe a bit. I think it would've been better if ‘cosplay’ was just the word the Doctor uses to explain what they do

On first watch it was literally right as Ruby told Emily that she was from the future that I realised Emily was one of them

Ruby not actually getting got is cool but like that scene literally shows the lightning and we hear her screaming but then in the flashback to what actually happened neither of those things happen so them putting it in the initial scene feels like a shit/lazy way of trying to hide the fact it was gonna be revealed that she was pretending all along when they coulda made it so that we the audience know she’s fine bc we don’t see the telltale Chulder bodyswap signs but the Doctor thinks she’s dead. Very strange imo

Been obsessed with the way the Duchess shouts ‘the wedding’ since I first saw it in a  trailer icl

That scene with Carla feels so out of place and tbh random bc like. This is the second time Ruby has almost died in an ep so surely we shoulda seen that flashback the FIRST time it happened not now

15 loves a cry and idk how I feel about it

Other than the non-Doctor-y flirting I think this is the most Doctor-y 15 has felt to me

Did Rogue really have to replace Ruby? He literally just shoved her off? Surely he coulda just stood at the side of the triangle and pulled her out of it instead? Or are we saying that once it’s prepped for 6 ppl then it won’t leave without 6 on it? Bc I don’t think they make that clear in the episode at all

This episode is sooooo Maxine Alderton in 13’s era coded to me in that it’s an ep where the writing, other than the couple of choices I don’t love, just overall feels much tighter than the rest of the eps in the series have been like I feel like I can tell the difference 

I love 15 and Rogue’s dynamic but I really wish 15 was more awkward in his attraction to Rogue. He was far too suggestive and direct imo, it didn’t always feel like the most Doctor-y thing ever. Like he may be 'healed' (whatever that even means) but he's still the DOCTOR

Overall a banger. 4.5/5. I think this is the first ep this season  where I’ve rated it a bit higher after rewatch

[radio-navlee]

Spill!

So he’s a little angsty (this makes up for that frown he did at the end of ep 2, PLEASE UNDERSTAND!!)

Lee: Jax

Ler: Ragatha

Summary: (Hurt to comfort) Jax finds himself back at his tree crying until a familiar doll comes to help him

WARNING!! ⚠️: TICKLE FIC!! Gagging, mentions of puking. Self harm? (Depends on what you call self harm)

“Jax was nothin but a lowlife jerk!” “He was so mean!” “I hated seeing his dumb bunny face!” A few things said by the circus members when asked ‘How do you feel about Jax?'. “Well, he’s got something wrong up there” said Ragatha. She didn’t think he was all bad, there was still a little bit of human in him.

“I’m just too real!” Jax thought. Yeah, that was it! The truth was he just knew to much, other just didn’t want to hear it! Ha, yeah no. The real truth was that Jax bottled all his feelings up, he only released them once nobody was around, while he was alone. Sure it was funny watching the other members get pissed at him over a little harmless prank, but he was just mad, grumpy, and sad. He pushed himself away in fear of ruining the way people see him.

“He was never nice!” “Yeah he was so annoying” “even when I tried to get away from him, he’d find me anyway!” “I wished he’d abstract” “He’s such a dick!”

Jax shot up from his bed, rubbing his head. He groaned wiping the sleepy tears from his eyes. ‘Just a dream,’ he thought ‘they don’t really hope I-…’ Jax gulped down the lump in his throat. ‘It’s not real! Don’t think like that’ Jax straightened his head massaging his temples. Jax then felt tears warming up in his eyes, ‘crap’ he thought. He snuck out his room, down the hall, out the circus, and under his favorite place to cry. His tree.

Ragatha heard a door shut from outside. ‘Somebody's up? At this hour?’ Granted, there were not clocks but anybody could tell it was late. She laid in her bed listening for foot steps to go away before getting up to check on it. ‘Weird… how creepy’ She thought as she opened the door to see a shadow leave the circus tent. Still curious, she followed it.

Jax fidgeted with his ears, scratching at them till they became numb. From a distance Ragatha could only make out shapes of the mystious figure. ‘What even is that? A hat? No.. ears? Wait.. JAX?’ Could it really be Jax? Sneaking out of the circus? To do what?

Ragatha watched from afar, hiding in places that would be hard to make out in the dark. Peering out every once and a while to get closer, until... *SNAP* A twig had snapped underneath the rag doll.

‘SHIT!’ Ragtha dashed and hid behind a tree as Jax snapped his head around. ‘Weird...’ Jax thought as seeing nothing. Though, Jax wasnt a realigous person, due to Caine being the fake god and losing his memory from the digital world, he prayed to who ever was out there that nobody followed him from the circus.

Jax continued on, finally reaching his tree. He knew it was dumb to be attached to such an object, even if it was made of pixels, it’s what kinda comforted him in a way. He even carved a J into the trunk of the bark. He curled up to the trunk, pulled his knees up to his chest, his head to his knees, and cried. It started off soft, quickly escalating to a sob.

Ragatha took a minute to catch her breath, she was so close to geting caught. Now paying attention to the floor, she walked at a steady pace, creeping up to Jax. ‘Is he... Shaking? No I get it! He's laughin-‘

A loud groanish sob was heard from Jaxs direction. ‘That is NOT laughing!’ Concern growing in Ragatha as she was finally close enough to see.

‘C-CRYING? JAX CAN CRY?’ The doll was astonished at what she was seeing, Jax, the prank puller, no feelings, Jax, was crying! Jax wasnt even crying, he was sobbing! Out of Ragathas whole experience of this digital world she had never, NEVER, seen a single emotion come out the said rabbit.

"UGGGHHH- *HCK* *cough cough* NGGH!!"

"I should say something..."

"*HACK* *GULP* MHYHYHY HEAD!" He clutched his head, digging his finger nails into his scalp

"I should do something...

.

.

I'm doing it!" Ragatha stepped forward another twig snapping in the process. How comedic

Jax' sobs stop imidently, looking upwards slowly

"...Who ever you are, go away!" Jax backed himself further into the tree

"I mean it!" His voice quivering, his vision blurry from the tears.

“Jax, it’s just me!” Ragatha tried to sound chipper to not worry or scare Jax further

“Were you just- Well I mean-*sigh* are you ok?” The dolls questions blurting out of her. Jax unfolded himself, standing up, putting his hands to his face, and bent over. Ragatha inched closer with a hand out stretched until Jax popped up putting his hands on his hips.

“Yup! Just fine actually! Now it’s your turn dolly, why are you out of the tent?” Jax’s mood changed completely

“No. Don’t do that!” Regatha grabbed at his wrist to pull him back down to a sitting position with her.

“Do what doll face?” His smile now wobbly

“Don’t act like you weren’t just crying a minute ago! I want to help you Jax!”

“What ever do you mean? Heh, I don’t n-need help.” His façade fading as quickly as he put it on

“Cmon Jax!”

“Y’know, you’re acting like a real pain in my side!” Jax furrowed his brows

“Tell me what’s going on!” Ragatha insisted

“There’s nothing going on!”

“Then what’s this from?” Ragatha reached up to poke the indented skin from Jax’s finger nails. He hissed in pain

“Ow!”

“Hm?” Ragatha asked, waiting for an answer. Jax sighed

“Ok you got me! I have feelings like everybody else! Now leave. Me. Alone!”

“What kind of feelings?” She asked softly

“What?”

“What kind of feelings do you have?”

“N-normal ones?”

“Talk to me!”

“if I talk… will you leave me alone?”

“I swear on it!”

“…..Fine!” He sighed

“First, welcome to my tree. I even wrote a J on it, ain’t that stupid!” He chuckled as himself, but it didn’t seem like a joking chuckle, it was more of an awkward pitiful chuckle.

“Fuck it, let’s just get over this as fast as possible..” As embarrassed as Jax was he took a deep breath, and spilled

“Well, it’s been happening for a while now, I’ve been getting these crazy dreams, this time it was about… you guys actually.” He scratched his head

“You guys were talking about me, RIGHT in front of me, but that’s not my worst dream, there was the one with my abstraction, one of everybody just gone, which isn’t to be confused with the one where you all just died, and don’t even get me started on the corn one-” Jax rambled but was interrupted

“And these dreams make you feel like- wait you said corn?”

“D-don’t worry about what I said” Jax breath quickened as just thinking about it scared him a bit.

“Ok well, you come out here after you dream?”

“Mostly after I dream, y’know it’s funny, sometimes I come out here during the day.”

“The day?”

“Anyways, that’s not what makes me… cry” Jax paused at the word, weirded out he even admitted to crying

“Crazy to think it’s actually my mind, what little mind I have left, it jumbles up thoughts and pieces them together that don’t make sense. It makes me go crazy! It’s like a never ending insult that keeps getting worse with every word. Like a stab at my ego, my confidence, my self respect…” Jax hugged himself and he felt the tears itch in his eyes

“It’s like my minds in a tornado, everything spins and my vision blurs like vertigo, my arms and legs feel all tingly and shit,” As Jax explained himself, he felt tears fall down his cheeks. Jax raised his head to look at the doll, her face flooded with empathy and understanding, it made Jax sick.

“D-don’t look at me like that!” He cried, the dam breaking down, the flood gates opened.

“Like what?!” Ragatha asked in confusion

“Like you understand!” He sobbed

“But Jax, I do understand! I feel so sorry that you’ve been going through this and nobody’s bat an eye in your direction!” Ragatha tried to comfort him

Jax tugged on his ears is distress “I don’t need people to pay attention to me!”

“No? Then why are you here then?” Ragatha signaled to the tree. She was right in some ways, Jax crying to a tree was pretty upsetting to her, and it didn’t make it better that Jax didn’t want her anywhere near him.

Jax took a pause for a second to think of a response, ‘Why was he here?’ He felt his head start to hurt again, pulling on his ears harder to help him distract himself from the pain.

“I- *HURKK*” Jax felt like he was nearly going to throw up, gaging and putting his hand over his mouth

“Woah,” Ragatha blurted, motioning towards Jax to help.

Jax put his free arm up to stop her, pausing, then swallowing it back down. Did he really just throw up at the thought of people helping him? Did comfort really make him that sick to his stomach?

“Jax, calm down!”

“Gughh..” He groaned holding his stomach

“Why does this keep happening!” His eyes watered from the puke, tears pouring down his face again.

“Jax listen! Just calm down!” Ragatha held onto one of his hands, but it trembled at the touch, shaking for who knows what reason.

“Jax you hav-”

“Jax isn’t even my real name! I don’t know what my real name is!” Jax took back the hand Ragatha was holding onto, tugging and digging his nails into his ears.

“Jax stop this!” Ragatha pleaded with him to try to calm him down, his breath hitched as he made a realization.

“Wh-…Why are you still here?” Jax look straight at the poor doll. She gulped at the question,

“Because I wasn’t going leave you like this! Jax, you understand people in your ‘life’ don’t want to see you suffer right?”

“You should ask the rest of the group that”

“Jax I’m serious, they care for you! Even if you are a pain sometimes, they’d never want to see you like this.” Ragatha cupped his face. Jax gagged but kept it down, counting and following Ragathas breathing. The sickening feeling slowing going away.

“Now, let go of your ears! They're turning red!" Ragatha uncupped his face, moving her hands to push Jaxs hand away and using her own to try to sooth them.

There was a pause, Jax felt numb as her hands slowly massaged into his ears. He was so confussed, so comferted, but most of all... angry. Angry that he was; 1, letting it happen, and 2, enjoying it.

"This is bullshit" he whispered, loud enough for Ragatha to hear.

"No its not Jax!" Ragatha sang. Jax sighed.

Jax sat infront of Ragatha, thinking. Ragatha hummed as she slowly tried to ease the pain in his ears. She noticed scars at the base, tiny scars, finger nail scars. She felt bad for him, he probally didnt even know he was scaring himself.

"Jax your do realize your hurting yourself right?" She muttered

"What?"

"You have scars at the base of your ears,"

"Oh. I guess I didnt realize." He moped

Ragtha moved from massaging to lightly tracing the scars, how interesting how in the didgital world you could still get scars. She felt the grove of every tiny dent.

"Doholl!" Jax giggled as the sensitive tracing tickled his ears.

"What is it Jax?" She smiled at the low giggle he let out.

"Dohohont do thahat!" He put his hands up to her wrists.

"What? You dont like the tickles?" Ragatha began to spider her nails across his ears

"GAH! Rahahagathaha!!!" He gasped at the sudden change in tenquine.

Ragatha giggled at his reaction. Jax went from mopy and sad to a giggly mess. His face instantly brightened up, he felt his sadness wash away.

"Stohohop!!"

"Cmon Jax! laugh a little!" Ragatha teased

"I ahaham lahaughing!!"

"Yeah, I know!" She smiled, moving a hand down towards his side

"EHEH! Rahahagsss!" He squirmed

"Sorry sorry!" She appoligized, but not really meaning it.

Ragatha moved her hand back up to his ears, he squeaked with the touch. He covered his mouth, not even knowing he could have that noise. The doll chuckled at the squeak stoping her fingers.

"Ohoh my god Jax!"

"Shut it!" He scowled embarrssed. She finished up her last chuckles, getting up to hold out a hand. Singaling to help Jax get up on his feet.

"Guess we better head back to bed huh?" She sighed pulling him up

"Yeah, back to this prision we go.." He joked

"hehe, yeah."

"and uh, hey!" Jax excailmed, grabbing Ragathas attention.

"Yeah? Whats up?"

"*sigh* Please dont tell anybody about this! I already have Gangle and Pomni on my ass from my pranks, if they find out I... come here... I dont know if theyd let me live." He explained.

"Yeah of course. Your feelings are safe with me!" She put her thumb and index finger together and motioned a line over her mouth, closing her eye as she smile. Jax just assumed it was a wink.

(Lord this took way longer than possible, writers block hit as soon as i posted the draft. With school almost being out, teachers have been giving students alot of work, and yes I am still a student so 😞)

[sweetaliencheeks]

THE ONE WHERE HE KNOCKS

“Who is it?” I threw my cardigan over my shoulders as I approached the door, barely missing to trip over the corner of the rug. It was late at night, and I had taken my shower, swiped my make up off, and sat down in front of some stupid reality show with a hot tea. I had been enjoying the relaxing scent of dried leaves and honey, and the comfort of a warm blanket over my legs when someone knocked on my door. I was most definitely not expecting guests, so my first thought had been a neighbour in trouble or in need of sugar or flour, my second thought had been a scam to have me robbed. Either way I had gotten up and walked towards the entry.

“It’s me” nothing could have prepared me for the voice that echoed in the hall on the other side of the door. It was like hearing a stranger, only I knew him by heart, like the palm of my hand. I took a deep breath, wondering if I really should open the door, if it was a good idea to let him in again both literally and figuratively. I exhaled slowly, almost disappointed that I wasn’t a robbery and that I was about to be put face to face with heartbreak.

“Hey” the door swung open and my eyes locked on his, my breath hitched in my throat “What are you doing on Earth?”

“Visiting a friend, thought I’d come by” he replied calmly. He seemed bothered, almost uncomfortable. Maybe by the sheer fact that he was standing in front of me covered in guilt and the lies he had told me, or maybe by the way my question might have made him feel like he wasn’t welcome.

“How did you find me?” his eyes darted from left to right, before landing on the printed carpet of the building’s hallway. It was terribly ugly, a faded deep red with yellow lys flowers printed on it. Nothing that deserved the attention he was granting it “Nevermind” it was an effort to make him feel less pressured to answer, not that I actually wanted to hear said answer. All that I wanted to hear was an explanation. After a few seconds of silence, fearing that I might have come across cold, I finally spoke “I’m sorry, I’m just surprised to see you”

“Yeah, thought you’d be. That’s why I decided to knock instead of coming in through the window” he nodded towards the kitchen window right behind me “I saw it was open, that’s uh, kinda dangerous”

“I know” my voice sounded like a child who had just been yelled at, I was almost embarrassed and looking for a way to make myself sound like a big person who could live alone safely. I sniffled and looked over my shoulder at the small window just over the fire escape that he would climb to come and visit me during the time period of the blip “It’s been open ever since you left, guess I’ve always hoped you’d come back” a dry chuckle echoed in my chest, not knowing what else to say “Maybe that’s why I was so surprised” I had initially gone for a shrug, but the way my shoulders dropped in absolute defeat, made me go for a self hug, arms crossed tightly over my cardigan and around my body “Because you knocked”

“Yeah” he forced out a chuckle, and we resumed looking at the floor.

“Shit, sorry” after a few minutes of looking in between one another, the floor and the ceiling, I finally caved in and stepped aside. Letting him come into my home again was only one step away from letting him back in my life and into my heart “Come in. Do you want a drink, or something? I’ve got like whisky, I think? I don’t drink much anymore” I began frantically roaming through the cupboards, trying to find something that he could have enjoyed. I was afraid that if I took too long, he might change his mind and leave.

“What are you drinking?” I looked down at my cup, which was still sitting on the coffee table where I had left it. I scrunched up my nose thinking about how cold it must have been by then “I’ll have that” he nodded towards it, sounding both very confident and completely terrified of trying something such as a Terran stupid calming drink.

“You drink tea?” I half chuckled.

“I do now” something about him drinking tea made me smile. He wasn’t a tea kind of guy when I met him, I wasn’t even sure he was a water kind of guy when I met. But the idea of him holding and drinking a calming, sweet, comforting cup of tea was absolutely precious to me.

“So… how’s life?” I asked over my shoulder as I made my way to the kitchen. He seemed to have found a comfortable enough spot on the sofa, although he still seemed quite awkward and stiff. The silence was heavy, and it would have been deafening if it hadn’t been for the water boiling in the pot. I added the teabag and some honey in the bright pink mug and walked over to him “I’m bad with small talk”

“Look, I’m sorry I left” I was taken aback by how quickly and harshly it came out. He probably thought I was still angry at him, but I could tell there was regret in his words by the way his voice trembled.

“It’s ok, I understand” I handed him his cup, and proceeded to pick up mine from the table before plopping down next to him “I mean, you got your family back and a whole galaxy to save. You had no time to waste with a human” I had always known that I was never a priority in his life. How could I be? He was a modified literal space genius whom, on multiple occasions, had had the fate of the entire galaxy between his tiny little hands. And I was nothing but ordinary. So when he left, I didn’t try to find a reason, or which one of us was to blame. It felt like it was just the way it was meant to be.

“Still shouldn’t have left like that” his reaction to his first sip of tea was somewhere between expected disgust and happy surprise. I smiled and watched him go for a second one, with a giddy shimmy of his shoulders this time.

“You shouldn’t have… but apology accepted” the tv remote was right next to me and I had to fight the urge to turn it on. I couldn’t take any more of the silence and the terrible dread that it was to sit in face of someone I cared about so deeply, with whom I had shared intimate moments and secret thoughts, and feel like he was nothing more than an acquaintance that I was smiling at out of politeness. He had changed, that was a fact. But he was still himself, only a better version than the one who left in the middle of the night a few years back. So although I wanted to blame my distancing on him, I couldn’t. He was being nothing but nice and sweet towards me, I was the one to blame. I had been alone with myself for so long, that the reflection on the mirror had somehow convinced me that I was over him, that I was no longer sad, that a nonchalant approach was a far more appropriate way to deal with things than to drown in alcohol and hold a grudge forever. I was the one who was angry and bitter and revengeful, I was the one who wanted to hurt him for the hell he had put me through, but he seemed to have worked so hard to fix himself, that it didn’t seem fair to punish someone who no longer existed “I forgive you, as long as you let me know when you leave this time”

“I will” a small smile tugged at the corner of my lip at his answer, maybe because it would stop me from crying, maybe because I just wanted him to feel like I would believe it this time “I, uh… I wanted to ask you something”

“Sure, I’m listening” I had to fight a scoff, but couldn’t help my eyebrows from raising in astonishment. I clenched my jaw, teeth grinding against each other and a ball of rage building up in my chest.

“Are ya still good with animals?” my eyebrows twitched before falling into a frown. But the situation was so preposterous, that I laughed.

“Yeah, why? Need your shots?” I nodded towards him in a taunting way, as angry as I could have been at him, I would have done anything to catch a smile on his face.

“Very funny. No, I need you to look after someone” without any further explanation, he reached behind his back and handed me something. I wanted to ask if that was the reason why he had been sitting strangely from the beginning but I didn’t have to, since he instantly leaned back on the pillows.

“Oh! Oh, my God! It’s… Is it…?” I reached out for him too, and grabbed what he gave me. The little raccoon instantly began sniffing my hands, small whiskers tickling my wrists and tiny claws scratching into my palms. It was so small and so soft and fragile, the fact that Rocket had been like this once before he was pulled apart and put together was heart wrenching. It made me sick.

“It ain’t mine” Rocket scoffed “I’m just looking after him”

“He’s so cute, look at those little hands” I brought my face closer to the little creature and cooed “Hi, baby”

“So, will ya help me look after him?” I looked between the little puppy and the pleading eyes behind him. I was about to make a mistake and I knew it, but saying no to those two sets of eyes was impossible.

“Coparenting sounds like a lot of fun, but what? Do I send him on train to Knowhere on the weekends?” joking had always been my go to coping mechanism and an easy way out of tough situations, and this one was particularly complicated.

“No, you uh, you come with us” he avoided my face, he didn’t look at me, not even a glance. It was a mix of frustration and anger that tightened the grip around my cup until I could see my knuckles begin to turn white.

“To fucking space?” honestly, I couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or a growl that passed trough my teeth.

“To fricking space” Rocket pointed at the baby with a quick motion, arm extended and palm turned towards the ceiling. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that, as a regular raccoon, this little guy wouldn’t be able to swear either he heard the words or not. I set the small baby on my lap, and kept petting him, focusing on his soft breathing was helping me keep myself together.

“I don’t know… you do realise that I can’t just go and move to space?” thinking that it would have been obvious enough for the space genius was a mistake. Given the expression on his face, it seemed like all I had to do was throw my toothbrush and a pair of fresh underwear into my handbag and fly away into the stars “And did you seriously come all the way here to ask me to babysit?”

“I came here because I missed ya” his voice changed in a split of a second, and all I could do was bury my face into my hands, elbows set on my knees. I didn’t know what to say. I missed you, too. Why did you leave? Do you love me? Have you ever? I would go anywhere with you, the galaxy, the sea, the edge of the world. Did you think of me as your spaceship took off? When you looked up at the sky? Because I did. All the damn time.

“I’d have to sell my appartement, and my car… Quit my job, say goodbye to everyone” and that was only to list a few of the things I had thought about saying instead of what I really wanted to say “It’s really not that easy…”

“You don’t have to answer now” his eyes were glossy when they finally met mine and it hit me so hard that I had to look away. Too many memories were brought up in that second and it was like finding a piece of my past that I wasn’t ready too deal with. Not again. Not yet.

“Yeah” it was a whisper, nothing more, and a trembling lip that quickly turned into a sniffle and an awkward change of sitting position as I tucked my legs under my body, ready to change the subject “Where did you find the emotional bribe?”

“Some lab was gonna test on him. Had a whole bunch of them, found them homes” he replied plainly, as if it was nothing and as if he hadn’t mentioned having been on that same terrible situation when he was just a puppy himself. I wasn’t about to bring it up, or to ask questions or to push him to tell me more. He never shared much anyway, and I was trying too hard not to cry to throw myself into a subject that could so easily be the last straw. I have to admit that the idea of going to space to look after this small loving creature and help him look after an even smaller and just as lovely creature, was beginning to sound more and more like a future. But I knew I couldn’t and now I had to give Rocket my answer. But as I was about to open my mouth, he grabbed the baby from my lap and lifted him up to his eye level “But this one was different”

“You’re different” I blurted out. This loving, kind, nurturing side of him wasn’t new, he had many times spoken about Groot and how he had raised him like his own. But witnessing it first hand and drunk on nothing but tea and nostalgia, was making me fall for it. The love in his eyes and in his voice and in his touch, made me realise that maybe I had never fallen out of it in the first place. He lifted an eyebrow and put his cup down on the table, right next to mine.

“What?” he chuckled, and that’s when I saw him. I saw that mischievous grin and challenging gaze. I saw that one twitch on a certain point of his muzzle. And just like that, I knew I had lost a battle I hadn’t even signed up for, amidst a war I had surrendered long ago. I had fought my feelings for way too long, choosing to ignore them and finding ways to tell myself that it was better that way, that things had always been meant to be like that, that it was cosmic will or fate or anything else out of my reach. That it was anyone’s fault but mine. And at the same time, I often found myself lying awake in a state of haze wishing I had made him stay, knowing it wasn’t someone else’s fault.

“You’re different. You’re healing” tears started to pool in my eyes as a wave of realisation and relief slowly took over me. He was broken and torn and painfully tormented when we met, he was like a ticking time bomb, that could have blown up at any moment. And I worried for him, I worried every day that he was around and even more everyday that he wasn’t. Even through tears and a broken heart, I wished him peace and now, looking at him on my sofa holding a tiny little part of what he once was, I saw it. I saw peace. And I saw hope and love and joy, and so many other things he had never let me see before. My hands travelled up to the sides of his face and I brushed my thumb across his cheek “You’re softer, stay soft” I whispered, a tear now running hot down my cheek. As his hands went up to hold mine where they were, I looked him in the eyes. And in that deep dark brown, I found hope, too. And I found the love he had taken from me all those years ago, and accepted that he was willing to give it back if I only gave him the chance and the time. And just like that, I found myself wondering where I had put my suitcase “It looks so good you”

This is so long and I’m sorry, but I haven’t written in so long and gotg3 really put me in my feels. Hope you enjoy it! Also want to say thank you to all of the love you guys have been showing to my old stuff, it means the world to me x

Love,

Your local Rocket Raccoon fanfic dealer <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Random Eyeless Jack tongue hcs

Cw// kinda borders into suggestive territory if you squint, but nothing intentional? Writing this before actually putting down the hcs, but

Yeah

Nothing too crazy, obviously

Also cw// for body horror and shit since I also wanna dive into his whole.. how he got messed up

Getting the body horror stuff out of the way, I hope yall already know ab my whole curse hc/interpretation on jack

If you dont/if you're new; hi! Welcome to my blog! I hc that jack used to be a normal dude but got dragged into a cult that made him the way he is now!! Real important and relevant to my take on him/I haven't seen many other people use that spin on fan story for this sort of thing

Anyways

As per the whole "his body is shifting into something horrific," thing, his tongue literally. Splits into several tendrils

Havent decided on an exact number, but hes got.. a few alright!

Thick, but get thinner to the tips; and they have the same goop that leaks from Jack's eyes! Sensitive sense of taste; and he can kinda detect scents with them, like snakes do!!

His mouth is kinda crowded, though, so sometimes he'll talk with a bit of a lisp (?), or accidentally bite himself

Now onto the real horror; the process of his tongue splitting was painful, and long. He felt all of it, and given that he's literally turning into a man eating monster, he was unable to seek medical help; so he had to suffer alone and without aid

Obviously, if your tongue is splitting itself open, there's gonna be a mess plus lots and lots of pain

Poor dude

Moving on

They writhe

A lot

Especially when theres... food.. nearby; they tend to flick out (snake like!!!) If hes hungry (tends to lose himself for a while)

In the most sfw way I can say it because there is literally no way I can say it without being sus, they kinda??? Wrap around things??

Like okay I had an art idea, to draw jack with a blood-popsicle, since summer is coming; and with the previous hcs it'd make sense that his tongues would just naturally latch around it and grip said blood-pop

So that's my hc now

Also back to horror stuff i feel like that'd make his feeding frenzies all the more terrifying

I mean when he goes into one he completely loses all his humanity and thoughts and just jumps on someone

Imagine he latches onto someone and like

Idfk anchors them into the persons flesh so they cant just easily shove him off

That's terrifying

I love it sm

Downside; kissing jack is not fun since 1) it's a legitimate choking hazard, and 2) the goop makes his tongues taste gross

I feel like the goop is also, to a degree, corrosive

Or at least, an irritant

Like super powered saliva that can break down meat fast; also explains why I draw jack with huge dark circles n shit around his eyes

I bet yall (who follow my main) just thought I made him tired

Nope, it's his flesh being slowly burned away!! Granted hes more durable to it since the whole monster thing + it's his own material but

Still

So

Yeah!!!

Take what you will with these hcs

[ftmtftm]

Hey!

I enjoy following trans guys on here because they tend to talk about masculinity in complex and interesting ways without tending to fall into MRA type pitfalls that are a lot harder to avoid in a space like Reddit. My question with that as a cis(ish) guy is always like...do you...want solidarity from cis guys on stuff like this?

Given that tumblr is kinda unique among social media spaces in that the norm is posters who are either women or queer, I don't see a lot of conversations between cis and trans guys for me to go off of as a norm. Y'all seem way more busy dealing with (what must be very tiring) discourse with women about whether being dudes automatically rounds trans men up to being oppressors.

Like, the defense I usually see mounted against that very simplistic mentality is--as you've said a fair bit and I would absolutely agree with--that patriarchal society doesn't give a fuck how you identify and short of someone who's managed to "pass" going completely stealth, there isn't even the option of being granted a very contingent male privilege. 

Building off of that response I tend to go further and say "Yeah, and I mean, even if you were a cis dude, the hurdle isn't suddenly over if you're assumed to be biologically male, broad swaths of male privilege are contingent on performing hegemonic masculinity. If you don't, won't, or can't play that role, you're just trading being viewed as a failed woman for being viewed as a failed man. And again, that's only if you're someone who can "pass" and who is willing to go stealth in the first place."

But I don't know if me saying that would be recieved as...helping? Considering me saying "yeah, dudes aren't suddenly welcomed with open arms if they have a "he/him" pin and some stubble, there are absolutely core social advantages compared to women, but there are also punishments for failing to adhere to patriarchal standards that some men will be constantly incurring" causes a knee-jerk "THATS MRA BULLSHIT" response in the average tumblr user, which you seem to have to deal with plenty even when you're just quoting bell hooks or something.

So yeah, don't know if chiming in on the experience of grappling with hegemonic masculinity is like... helpful solidarity or muddying the waters? But I figured I'd offer at least.

Oh this is a very fascinating ask because in many ways I'm inclined to say yes absolutely, it can be incredibly helpful. There are some ideas presented here I'm a little hesitant about and I think it can be situational because of that. Ultimately though it is probably more dependent on your own personal threshold for dealing with bullshit than anything else to be frank.

Like I was just saying in response to a previous ask - some of the most productive conversations I've had personally about gender were actually with an older, disabled, cis man who was my coworker. The social perception of his gender was really dependent on his age as a man in his 60's, his class as a blue collar maintenance man, and the disabilities he had due to life circumstances and his lifetime of physical labor. This was also, socially, at odds with the fact that he was a poet and an artist and a deeply emotionally aware/intelligent person - which goes against a lot of Patriarchal expectations for men. The Patriarchy doesn't really give a shit about the emotionally in touch, disabled, working class, maintenance poet because he is not an asset to maintaining system.

So I do think there is absolutely space for solidarity between trans men and cis men in that regard! There is always more that joins us than divides us. Always.

I do think, however, that it might be smart to gain more experience - of any kind - outside of online discourse before entering into specifically online conversations (though I'm also guilty of jumping into this one too sometimes I'm not gonna lie).

When I say "experience of any kind" I really mean it though. Be that life experience, academic experience, interpersonal experiences, etc. I would just start with talking to people about their lives and engaging with their lived experiences and also letting them engage with yours!

I think here in this specific conversation on Male Privilege cis men hold a dual positionality of both people impacted by the same systems and as allies. To specfically be a stronger ally is to spend a lot of time learning before speaking yourself - while also never forgetting that the learning is never "over" - in my opinion.

Like, that's expressly why I took a break from writing about gender theory for a few years to explicitly spend time just reading racial theory so I could be a better ally as a White person and understand the ways in which White Supremacy both uplifts and harms me and the social positions I hold due to my race. I'm currently spending a lot of time reading intersex theory, but not directly involving myself too much, for the same reason. It's a similar concept here but with gender and Patriarchy.

I do also want to make sure it's very clearly stated that this conversation isn't really a binary "men arguing with women and vice versa" issue - despite it often being framed that way. Many of the people who have been the harshest towards me personally have actually been other trans men and nonbinary people and less so women. At least in this particular conversation, as I've also dealt with my fair share of TERFs/Radfems but that's unrelated to the convo on trans men and male privilege.

All in all it sounds like you're on a relatively solid path though. The solidarity and allyship is nearly always appreciated - especially when offered in good faith and with the intent of growth. I'd still really, genuinely recommend taking kind of a circular path outside of online discourse into academia (institutionally or on your own!!) or ground work or something like that before coming back around into engaging with the internet directly if you're able to though! It does wonders for the brain and helps give you more space to examine potential biases in safer environments than Tumblr or Reddit imo.

[bigfan-fanfic]

How do you feel about Damien’s Mom Talia Al Ghul? Because some people said she’s a victim of bad racist writing and she’s had a bad portrayal in the animated movies. Is Talia really just victim of bad writing or she’s actually a horrible mother/person? I’m just confused because when I read the comics about Talia and the bad things she did and I just assumed that’s was part of her character because she’s a morally questionable villain of course she’s not a “good civilian person.” I knew DC is a dark adult comic book series and I already expected going in that the villain characters like Talia would committed terrible/horrible actions against the heroes. Like for example when she drugged Bruce and took advantage of him, I was slightly shocked but wasn’t surprised. Cuz to me this was the dark stuff DC was known for doing.

Alrighty, so the answer is a little bit of both!

TW for sexual assault mentions, miscarriage, parental abuse, etc.

There's a TL;DR ("too long, didn't read" summary) under the cut if you don't wanna read my report which is pretty awesome and was fun to write.

So, nobody seems to be able to agree on who Talia is at her core, and that's generally par for the course for a comic book character with multiple writers. She's been around since 1971, so that's already 52 years! And like Greek myth, there's just a lot of different interpretations of the character.

Let's get to the nitty gritty before we talk history. In 2006, writer Grant Morrison established that Talia drugged and raped Bruce, conceiving their son Damian (and also for some reason adding a whole unnecessary "artificial womb" thing? I don't get it either). However, this is based off the fact, which Morrison later admitted, that they misremembered the story they based the Batman and Son arc off of, and later comic arcs (in 2012 and 2014) would retcon the incident as consensual. Put a pin in this.

Talia was originally more of a damsel in distress slash prize for Bruce. Remember, this was the 70s. Her main deal is being the daughter of Ra's al Ghul and thus if Batman marries her, he becomes the heir, which Ra's wants. Despite not wanting to succeed Ra's, Bruce and Talia do share romantic attraction and Ra's considers them married. Then, later on, they do actually marry and she gets pregnant, and then Talia realizes that Bruce will always be in danger having to protect her and their child, so she fakes a miscarriage and they dissolve their marriage. She gives the child to an orphanage, and he is given the name Ibn al Xu'ffasch, or "son of the bat". This is the story arc Morrison adapted later.

Talia was kinda badass in the period before 2006, where she was sort of an anti-villain. She breaks out and starts having her own self after Ra's engages her to Bane whom she despises. She, under the name Talia Head, runs LexCorp as CEO while Lex Luthor is President of the United States, and basically not only tips Superman off about all his plans, but sells LexCorp's shares to Wayne Enterprises leaving Lex functionally penniless. Then she gets brainwashed and basically evil-fied by her half-sister Nyssa Raatko who literally kills her over and over, resurrecting her each time in the Lazarus Pit as an extreme form of torture and reprogramming. She usually does more evil shit after this like joining leagues of supervillains and such. However, her motives of helping Jason Todd recover and train are usually ascribed to her love for Bruce and not wanting Jason to kill him.

Then after 2006 she goes full tilt crazy ex girlfriend and murders people, trained Selina Kyle to resist any and all psychological coercion to reveal Bruce's identity, and PLANTS A DEVICE IN DAMIAN'S SPINE THAT LETS HER CONTROL HIS BODY, and reveals that she's started cloning him because she thinks he's too weak and disowns him.

Then comes the New 52 (the part where DC did a reboot to make everybody darker and "more realistic" that absolutely nobody liked, so it started in 2011 and then DC did another reboot in 2016 to make it better) and Talia is just off the wall completely evil. Genocide, cloning Damian, killing Damian, being resurrected, then fighting an ancient alien cult and claiming she's redeemed, then literally rejoining the League of Assassins moments later.

Incidentally, apparently Grant Morrison wrote Bruce, Talia, and Damian from their own experiences as a child of divorce, which is just... wow. Like... that's just a lot to unpack there, but we're just gonna step past it.

As of the DC Rebirth reboot, Talia is more or less sort of back to being anti-villain, still yes a killer, but also more emotionally open and supportive of her son and back to trying for true redemption.

Let's take, as I usually try to do, the sum total of these experiences and from other sources and try to average it out.

Unfortunately, despite the retconning, a lot of people now still see Talia's rape of Bruce as canon. I did too for the longest time, and honestly, although it makes Talia despicable and completely irredeemable in a very visceral way, it also does allow for interesting dynamics for Bruce and Damian, the batfam and Talia, Bruce in general, and allows there to be discussion for the tragically underconsidered circumstance for female-on-male sexual assault, and by having Batman, who is often used by hypermasculine dudebros for their weird ideals of stoic toxic masculinity be a victim, and be vulnerable, and go through this could be a deeply powerful arc that nobody in comics really wants to touch. It does however, deprive us of an interesting and nuanced Talia and instead catapults her right into mustache-twirling evil.

Ultimately, Talia is the daughter and heir of Ra's al Ghul. She sees no problem murdering people, and in fact she usually shares her father's genocidal ambitions of culling much of the human race to help preserve the planet. Ra's boils down to an ecoterrorist and genocidal maniac, and Talia his henchman, though when she does strike out on her own, I can't quite get a handle on her motivations. She does tout a desire for "equality and peace" but there's really no standard she gives for what this means, so I can't really see if she's just crazy or if she has good intentions.

I think, even at her best, Talia is a perfectionist and is very strict, intent on Damian being who she wants him to be. I think she has very little empathy or compassion for others, although parts of her, at her best, regret this and she tries to grow. At her worst, she is irredeemably evil, and at her best she is... morally shady to the point of never really being able to be thought of as a good guy.

I can't speak to whether or not racism plays a part in her portrayal either as mustache twirling villain or whatever. I don't know that it's necessarily bad writing because I don't know if Talia was ever intended to not be a horrible person or morally ambiguous, apart from the early days when she was mainly a figure to be pursued by Batman. When it comes down to it, adding sexual assault to her list of crimes is not going to change much because she's a mass murderer, an ecoterrorist, an abusive mother any way you slice it because she's training her child as an assassin, and generally just not great. A fascinating character, yes, but a terrible person.

TL;DR: Talia al Ghul is a terrible person in general, but the Big Incident you refer to has been retconned and is based off a poorly-remembered story. However, considering she's a mass murderer, assassin, eco-terrorist, and also let's face it classist villain, she's still not great even if you remove that from her rap sheet. She's done some cool stuff like putting Lex Luthor in his place and that one Elseworlds story where she left Bruce and gave her son to an orphanage to protect him, but otherwise, once she was made her own character and not just a love-interest-of-the-week, Talia has been morally ambiguous at best and irredeemable at worst. I can't say if it's racist or not because I don't know the motivations in her writing, but I don't know that it's necessarily bad writing to make her unsympathetically evil.

[l8rs-gat0rs]

Can I make a Moonknight x reader request?

I would like hav the reader to be the moon boys friend which they have a secret crush on her. She gets kidnapped for accidentally witnessing a robbery gone wrong and the boys go and save her

Complicated

Thank you so much for this request!(And specifically for being my first ever request😁) I had so much fun writing this. I hope you'll like it!

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader x Steven Grant (a hint of Jake Lockley)

Warning(s): violence, guns, kidnapping, the fluff at the end physically made my chest ache, so i'm warning all of you! Use of y/n.

Disclaimer!!!!: There are a couple of Pov changes. Also, Marc and Steven's Pov is kinda in 3rd person, so bear with me!

Summary: The moon boys plan on confessing their secret crush. They are interrupted when they find her getting kidnapped after witnessing a robbery gone wrong, and they swoop in to save her.

Word Count: 2.2k

~~~~~~enjoy! :) ~~~~~~

Marc and Steven's pov:

"Today is the day. We have to tell her how we really feel" Marc said to Steven, looking in the mirror

"Oh god, I can't bloody do this" Steven said shaking his head violently in the mirror with his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

"We have to Steven! She can be swept away by someone else any day now while we sit here in the friend zone doing nothing." Marc said with furrowed brows, running a hand through his neat curls.

"Then why don't you make the move!?" Steven asked him with wide eyes.

"Because we have to do it together if we're both gonna be in a relationship with her. We gotta plan this out Steven." Marc said exasperatedly

"Okay okay, you're right." Steven said shaking his presumably sweaty palms.

"So how are we gonna do this?"

Y/n's pov:

"Hey mom" I said smiling as I picked up the call that was causing my phone to vibrate.

"Hellooo, I just wanted to check in and see how my little girl is doing." I heard my mom say on the other side of the phone.

I giggled a little before responding

"Yeah I'm doing great mom" I said with a smile on my face as I walked down the streets of London, enjoying the cool night time breeze and making my way to my flat.

"I really miss you, when are you coming home?" My mom said with a sigh.

I smiled sadly at the tone in her voice.

"Really soon, I promise, break is coming so soon" I replied.

Suddenly my heart froze as I heard screaming coming from an alley ahead of me. I stopped in my tracks.

"Mom, I love you, I gotta go" I said quickly.

"Wha-" I hung up on her and pressed myself up against the wall peaking into the alley way.

I saw two guys with guns, they had masks on. One of them was pointing their gun at a woman who was cowering against the wall with her hands up as she cried, and the other was rummaging through her purse.

I quickly ducked my head back as I started to breathe heavily.

Think y/n , think!!! What would Marc and Steven do?

Well, these men do have guns.

Maybe I should call Marc and Steven, and they can handle this...

I quickly got my phone back out and dialed the number Marc and Steven shared.

Suddenly I heard a large bang and my phone almost shot out of my hand but I gripped it tightly before it could.

I slapped my hand over my mouth.

Did they just...

"You bloody idiot! Why would you shoot her!?"

Oh my god.

Suddenly I heard a voice on the other end of the phone, and it was way too loud for my liking.

"Hello?"

"Hey, who's there!?" I heard one of the men in the alley way say.

Oh fuck, the speaker turned on.

I bolted past the alley, running as fast as I could.

"Shit shit shit, Marc!" I yelled into my phone while running.

"Hey, y/n what's happening!?" Marc said worriedly into the phone.

"Come back here you bitch!"

"Uhhhh, I might have accidentally witnessed a robbery gone wrong, and now they're after me, you know, some light B and E" I said dryly as I continued to run.

Of course the day I'm running from murderers, no one decides to be on the street.

"What!? Steven shut up! Y/n, where are you!?" I heard Marc yell, along with shuffling on the other side of the phone.

I looked around but I had already strayed from my path home and I had no clue where I was.

"Fuck! I don't know, but I'm somewhere around my flat!" I yelled.

I was getting tired and the robbers were gaining on me.

Fuck, maybe I shouldn't have skilled all those days In P.E during high school....

"Alright hold on we're coming!" Marc said urgently.

Suddenly I was tackled to the ground and my face met the concrete.

"Shit!" I cursed as my phone flew out of my hand and pain rapidly pulsed in my head.

From a distance I heard Marc yell over the speaker.

"Y/n!!! Are you okay!?"

I didn't have time to respond before the world turned dark.

Marc and Steven's Pov:

"Y/n! Y/n!!!!" Marc continued to yell into his phone as he ran, jumping between the roofs of buildings towards y/n's flat.

"Shit!" He cursed, hanging up the phone.

"Ay Cabrón! Check the apps!"

"What the- who the was that Steven?" Marc said as he heard the unfamiliar voice speak In his headspace.

"I've got no bloody clue!" Steven said, just as confused as Marc.

Marc did as the voice had said and checked the apps on his phone, be noticed an unfamiliar one and he opened it.

"Holy shit it's a tracking app, and it's got y/n's phone and smart watch connected to it!" Marc said as he jumped to the next building and continued running.

"Oh god, they've got y/n!" Steven yelled, and Marc could hear him in his head.

"Not for long!" He growled as he shoved his phone into his suit, and his locked his eyes onto a van speeding down the street.

Marc silently thanked the unfamiliar voice in his head and made a mental note to check up on that, and the tracking situation later. But right now he had to save you.

He jumped off the building, propelling himself forward and letting his cape open to slow his fall a bit.

Midway though the jump, Steven pushed to the front and Marc's armor transformed into Steven's suit.

Steven Landed on the hood of the car, crushing the metal beneath his feet.

"What the fuck!?" he heard the driver yell.

Steven quickly jumped off the hood and ripped the back doors of the van open.

The sight of you tied up, gagged, blood slicked hair on the side of your head, and the fear in your eyes crushed his heart, before his blood started to boil.

Marc pushed himself back to the front and the suit transformed back into Marc's Armor.

A scream of pure rage left his throat as he grabbed the man that was in the back with you and threw him to the ground.

The robber yelped and reached for his gun, but Marc brought his foot down onto the man's hand violently, causing him to let out a scream of pain.

Marc kicked the gun aside and grabbed the robber's shirt. He started to punch the man repeatedly, rage blinding his eyes.

He heard loud bangs and he dropped the man, who was now unconscious, and quickly turned around to see the other robber, who had been driving the van now outside as well, and pointing a gun at him.

Marc ran towards him and the robber tried shooting Marc again, but the bullets did not affect him due to the protection of his armor.

Marc grabbed the gun out of the robber's hand and used his brute force to snap the pistol in half.

The robber looked at him with pure terror in his eyes and Marc relished it.

Steven pushed his way to the front, his suit changing.

He grabbed the man by his head and shoulders and slammed his head full force into the van before letting the man's body fall to the ground.

"That's for trying to kidnap y/n!" He yelled at the unconscious man.

He turned around before pausing and looking back at the man.

"And for trying to shoot us!"

Marc pushed his way back to the front and his armored suit returned.

He made his way back around the van to where you were tied up and he grabbed a crescent blade out of his chest plate.

The mask of his suit disappeared when he got to you and he saw the relief in your eyes; warming his heart with relief at the sight of you safe.

His brow was still furrowed though, as he silently used his blade to cut your restraints and you pulled your gag down once your hands were free, and Marc put the blade back in his chest plate.

Y/n's Pov:

Steven pushed his way back to the front, his suit appearing without the mask.

"Oh my gosh, y/n! Are you okay!?" Steven said worriedly gripping your shoulders when you had two feet back on the ground.

"Yeah I'm fine Steven, and it's all thanks to you and Marc." I said smiling tiredly, my head still pulsing.

Steven pulled me into his strong chest and I wrapped my arms around him as he embraced me.

"You gave us the biggest fright of our lives. We were so scared we were going to lose you" Steven mumbled into my hair.

I pulled back from his embrace so I could look into his eyes.

"Well I'm here now, so you both don't have to worry." I said looking into his eyes and hoping Marc could hear my sincerity as well.

I noticed Steven's eyes shift to the side of me and I figured Marc had said something.

Something unreadable crossed his face and he tensed up.

"Steven?" I said, getting worried.

His eyes shot back to mine and a look of determination spread across his features, he almost looked like Marc.

"Y/n, I- we. Have to tell you something." Steven said very seriously.

"Okay, what is it?" I asked curiously.

Suddenly the nervousness returned to Steven and he shifted on his feet.

"Okay so, Marc and I, we love being your friend so much. Having you in our lives has been the best thing to ever happen to us." Steven said, visibly trying not to stutter.

I smiled fondly at him, waiting patiently for him to continue.

"B-But, we wanted to... Well, for a while now, we started to think, that, m-maybe... We could be m-more, than friends?? I-I mean if you wanted to of course! You could tell us to bugger off if you want to...." Steven said, ranting nervously, his stutter escaping him as he continued to get more and more nervous.

At this point Steven could no longer make eye contact and he was fiddling with his fingers.

My heart was bursting at his revelation, and the sight of this adorable man.

I took his hands gently into mine, and I felt him stiffen as his eyes locked onto mine.

"Yes of course, I would love to be more than friends with you and Marc." I said softly, a huge smile painting my face.

Steven's eyes suddenly rounded and his eyebrows raised.

"R-Really!?" He said, shock painting his entire face.

"Yes! Now come here you big dummy" I said grabbing him by his white tie and pulling his lips into mine.

I felt him melt into the kiss and I smiled against his lips and moved my hands to grab his face.

I heard a soft wooshing sound and I held my lips against his a little longer before I pulled away and I looked into his eyes.

It was Marc.

"Oh wow, a 2-in-1 first kiss, now that's an achievement!" I said jokingly, causing Marc to chuckle lightly.

Marc's suit retreated and he was now in his regular clothes.

"Hey, I would have confessed a lot smoother, but I knew Steven had it in the bag." Marc said raising his hand to caress my face gently.

"Yeah right, you woulda been just as bad." I said punching him lightly in the arm.

"Ouch!" Marc said removing his hand from my face and putting it over his heart.

His eyes shifted for a moment before locking back onto mine.

"Congrats, you just made Steven freak out because now he thinks it was bad." Marc said teasingly.

My eyes widened and I gripped his face.

"No-no Steven! It was great! You don't have to worry!" I said quickly.

I noticed Marc's facial expression shift slightly into a worried expression.

"Are you sure! We could like, maybe re-do it!" Steven's accented words slipped out fast.

"No no Steven, I was joking, just trying to tease Marc" I said, still holding his face in my hands.

He once again melted into my touch again and my whole body heated up.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain In my head and my hand shot to hold it.

"Woah woah, are you okay y/n?" Steven asked, gripping my other hand as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly before the pain slowly ebbed away.

"Ugh, yeah, but I think I might need to go to a hospital" I chuckled, letting go of my head and looking at my now blood-stained hand.

"Oh god, yes, let's get you there now!" Steven said fussily.

He looked up before Marc's voice reached my ears once again.

"Your flat is right around the corner actually, can you walk?" He asked me, leaning down to look straight into my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah I can." I said taking a shakey step forward.

"Nope! Absolutely not." Marc said before picking me up bridal Style and starting to walk forward.

I let out a yelp before starting to giggle.

"Wow, such a strong man, I could get used to this" I said looking up at him adoringly.

"Yeah? So can I." He said with a smile.

[evansbby]

ARI REALLY DID IT!!! HE REALLY BROKE UP WITH HER!!! HOLY SHIT!!!

When Sharon said she thought reader was the Ari was cheating on her with, cause she had a feeling deep in her gut… should’ve listened to it. Always, and I mean always go with your guy ladies.

SHARON IS BI CURIOUS SHE THINKS OF READER WHILE MASTURBATING!!!!!

Curtis is a damn sleazeball, Wanda is dumb and blind asf. Also a bitch! Hinting at having a threesome with Carla 🤣and Reader. Then when reader says he needs to respect his gf and he says she’s one to talk OHHHH BURRRRN!!!!!!

Also yes Ari how do you know where Steve’s parents live 🌚

He sighs, “If you want, I could come clean to her and tell her it was you who I was sleeping with. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, it’s my problem, anyways.” Does he not realize that that’s not gonna make the situation any better 🤦🏾‍♀️ MEN.

When reader finally had the outburst in the supply closet 😭 poor baby.

Definitely gotta make sure to keep out the part about letting Steve finger her in the Uber🤣 didn’t want Ari even more pissed that he already is.

Uh oh… Ari freaking out about Kira 👀

“Because I do care! I think I’d know what I’m feeling better than you would!” Calm down Stevey Boy 🫢

“I was always going to ask you out, Ari or no Ari. It’s only when I saw how jealous he got when he saw you with me, that I realised how much he liked you. That he liked you more than he liked his own girlfriend. That’s when I realised I could be with you and get back at him at the same time.” Umm… that’s not- yeah that’s still not cool Steve. Men are so so damn stupid I bet this has actually happened in real life before.

“Fuck you! Try an’ scratch me again and see what happens!” Steve arguing with the branch 🤣🤣 then when he claims that that’s it’s tryna pick a fight with him LMFAO!!! This man is drunk!

Poor Steve getting kicked off the team. Also, get this man in some anger issues classes.

Out of everyone, I feel bad for Kira the most. Especially after what Steve said she’s going through and how their parents are never home, and don’t know how bad she’s really gotten.

God, you would never understand men! YOU AND ME BOTH GIRLIE

Also should I feel bad for Carla? Yes, maybe. Possibly? Do I feel bad for her though? 🙂‍↔️ nope

He grabs her by the upper arm roughly, “Carla, shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for you,” He hisses. LMFAO!!! YEAH CARLA SHUT UP!!!

“Stop acting so holier-than-thou, Sharon. You’re not worth shit anymore, not since you got dumped,” yeah umm… Carla deserved what Curtis did to her at this point.

She says brokenly, “I..I liked you. I liked you so much. You have no idea how much I…” oh I know how much, that almost confession you made I remember that 👀

“I’m in love with you.” Ari breathes. HOLY SHIT HE SAID IT ARI REALLY SAID NO HESITATION THIS TIME!!!

“Why does it always take some sort of traumatic event for you to say these things?” You know that’s a really good question. WHY ARI?!

“Tell me, is that what you told my sister too?” JAW FUCKING DROP! ITS ABOUT TO GO DOWN!!! Again! 🫢🫣

Steve telling Ari about what Kira has been going through makes me feel even sadder than when he was telling reader about it

“She’s my sister and you were my friend and you fucking broke her, Ari.” I FUCKING KNEW IT!!! I KNEW THEY HAD BEEN FRIENDS BEFORE!!!! It always hurts more when it’s a friend that does the betraying, cause like you trusted that person. Never thought once out of the whole friendship that they would ever do something to hurt/betray you.

STEVEN GRANT ROGERS!!!! WHYY JUST WHYYYY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

“Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I think I finally made it last…” I-… 😓😢😭😣😔 damn Steve is really going through it. Poor baby

To answer your questions:

1. They were both sweet, but Steve was bittersweet so I think I kinda liked his more. It did hint/foreshadow at what would happen later on in this part.

2. Carla Wanda SUCKS ASS FUCK THAT BITCH!!!!

3. Because she pretended to be her friend, let her vent about Ari and cry on her shoulder. She knew the whole time why Ari broke up with her, had so many times to open up about the truth. I think if reader would’ve told the truth from the get go, and explain everything then she would’ve been a little bit more forgiving towards reader.

4. I’m not sure. Ari says Steve doesn’t know what he’s talking about, so maybe Curtis did it. I wouldn’t put it past him tbh. He seems like that kind of guy. But that begs the question… how did Curtis get ahold of Kira’s nudes if that’s what actually happened?🤔

5. Team STEVE!! I feel like they’re gonna have to pump his stomach. Attempted OD, maybe his parents will even have to fly back at this point.

AHHH BESTIEEE OMFG

Okay firstly YES I AGREE, as a woman, always trust your gut and intuition! But also, Sharon was kinda blind bc Ari literally carried y/n bridal style away after she got hit with a basketball like HE LITERALLY COULD NOT HAVE MADE IT ANY MORE OBVIOUS that they were together. But tbh I think Sharon was being blind bc she wanted to believe the best in y/n bc SHE liked y/n 🥺🥺

And yep lmfao Curtis was so damn sleazy in this chapter! Which is crazy bc he and Wanda were genuinely inseparable in the previous chapter! But now this guy is blatantly cheating on her with that brunette cheerleader AND he propositioned reader to have a threesome??? BRO FUCK THIS GUY FR.

ALSO YES. I really wanted to illustrate how stupid and clueless men are. Like when Ari says “you want me to tell her?” LIKE BRO??? That would just make it worse 😭😭 Also when Ari says “she’s a strong girl, she’ll bounce back” that is literally crazy 😭😭 men are fr so stupid and I don’t get them either and I’m happy you picked up on them being stupid in this chapter!!! Emotionally stunted fr! Steve too!! He also had some stupid dialogues and moments like him wanting so badly to explain, then his explanation being like “yeah idk why I did that, I just did” 😭😭😭

Thank you so much for this wonderful review bestie! I always appreciate it so much when people quote lines from my fic and then analyse or react to them!!! And your commentary is fr so funny!

Last thing I’ll say is… yeah maybe Steve will need to get his stomach pumped… IF he survived that is 😔😔😔😱😱😱 but would his parents care enough to even fly back to see him? 😔😔😟

[chainelunaire]

you go home at nine o’clock because of your job.

and your job.. well, you don’t exactly love it, but it needs a lot of time from you. it’s also not an exciting one. you just deal with papers - fold it, organize it, etc. that thing does not need much aside from your time, because there’s a lot of this shit, and somebody has to do it.

you’ve grown to be okay with a lot of things because of your job. and because of who you are - you’re not the brightest one, you’re not the worst. you are the very definition of averege in the world of every kind of fascinating. the most boring, ordinary person you’ve ever known is you yourself, truly. and you’re okay with that.

your boss, for example, is one of the brightest ones, and definitely not boring. quite the opposite, he’s very interesting to look at. you do that, when you get the chance, and it doesn’t happen often - he’s so busy, and you’re smaller than assistant, you’re basically no one. you highly doubt he knows your name. you hope he does, but he has a lot of things to remember, but he always strives to do more. you’d never even think to do that, but he - he does.

and he’s so kind.

like, not in a very obvious sense - sure, he’s funny and polite, not what you’re expecting from a guy who runs one of the best hero agencies, so it may cloud your vision a bit. no, you know that because you look at him and you see those small things he does for people around him. he goes far out of his way to make someone’s life better, he does that to strangers, and yeah, that’s what heroes kinda do, but he doesn’t save someone’s life every second of his own. he’s just... kind. it’s his nature, you see that. he’s around your age and he’s already so big, so famous and so strong. he doesn’t really need to be any more than that, yet he is.

he is kind. you know it doesn’t matter for a lot of people, they kinda take that for granted, but it’s important to you personally. you wouldn’t work here if it wasn’t for him, and he hadn’t even said anything to you, rather than “goodbye” or “have a nice weekend”. not something you should hold dear to your heart. he does that to everyone.

that’s why you do that. hold it dear to your heart.

he makes you believe that there’s something more to people. that they’re not all so malicious towards others, who have no power to protect themselves. and it’s really, really not because he’s a hero.

he’s a good man.

but you wouldn’t want his life. you know you don’t have so much strenght in you, to be kind to those who hurt you, who made you feel miserable because of who you were. you don’t do anything only because - well, it’s pointless, really, but you also hadn’t had the chance. you’re average and boring. your life means nothing in a grand scheme of things. you’re not someone’s rich kid, you don’t have useful quirk, or anything. you never really forget about that.

it’s eight fourty five. you need to organize your tutor’s papers, clean your boss’s office and then you’re free to do whatever. you don’t hesitate when you open your boss’s door - he’s always out by that time, going on a patrol or some meeting. you know he returns to office after, but you’re already at home, sleeping at this point. you heard from your collegues, he usually looked so much more tired and worn out after, moody and quiet. you can’t imagine that.

you wish you saw him more often tho.

so you do. his head is lying on his hands, while he sits at the table, wings closed. you see his chest rise from time to time. he’s definitely sleeping, and you definitely shoudn’t seen that.

but before you step out, you feel something sharp under your chin. you knew his feathers could do that, of course, but you never imagined your boss would slice your throat open in his own cabinet.

his eyes snap open in mere seconds, and you immediately feel feather disappear.

“sorry, sorry” he smiles so adorably, when he stands “didn’t mean to scare you, it’s just kinda subconcious.”

you nod, because you’re really not mad.

“sorry for interrupting, i’ll return later-”

“what time’s it?”

“eight fifty″

“shit” he mumbles. you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“sorry, can i borrow your phone for a sec? broke mine on a way here.”

“sure!” you say a bit hurriedly, but he doesn’t seem to notice. he types something and quickly sends, then returns it right in your hands.

you notice few almost invisible bruises on his upper hand. it wasn’t there two days ago.

“it’s fine” he says, noticing your gaze. you gulp. “nothing to worry about.”

you don’t worry about that thing in particular. you know he’s strong, he can handle a lot. it’s the fact that he slept in his own cabinet, and how many times he’d done that? when was the last time he got proper rest? what if this isn’t enough and it might end him in one of his battles.

you feel your heart clench.

“c’mon. say it.”

“i’m sorry, what exactly do you mean?”

“it’s clear you want to say something to me. go ahead. i won’t bite.”

of course he won’t. yet you say nothing.

“i’ll clean your office later, hawks-san-”

“you do that?” you nod “wow. thanks. must’ve been a lot of work.”

“it’s fine”

“you’re here so late” he chuckles a bit judgmentally. “that’s not really “fine”“.

“you are too.”

“yeah, well” now he just looks straight up annoyed, but clearly not with you “i’m already late, and i didn’t really notice when i fell asleep. should be somewhere else now.”

“where?” you ask absentmindedly. he sighs.

“somewhere i really don’t want to be, to deal with someone i’d rather never met. but i have a really pleasant job, do i?” you notice really bitter notes in his voice, it caught you a little bit off guard.

“then don’t go”

“ah, sadly, it doesn’t work that way” you both just stand silent for a bit, but you don’t feel uncomfortable. he stands before his table, so beatiful and so out of your reach, but you’re fine with that. he didn’t tell you to go out, didn’t lash out, even though it’s clear - he’s exausted. you fine with everything right now.

“may i ask you something?” he says after examine you for a bit.

“sure”

he closes his chin.

“have you ever felt like...like you have to do something bad, really really bad, but you don’t have another choice?“ his voice is low and tone careful. but you just shrug. he relaxes a bit.

“well, we all usually have one, it’s just even worse than what we choose” you answer thoughtfully, because yeah, you get what he’s saying. you think so yourself a lot. “how bad though? like from one to ten.”

“eleven.”

“well, shit”

he laughs.

“i think the most would understand” you think about those who hurt you and who didn’t. you know you’re grey - so is the world around you. it’s just a number of choices. “it’s just that they can’t accept what they would’ve done in your place”

“you think so?” he asks, and you can see, your words made him think, but nothing to ease his thoughts.

“yeah. kinda. i may change my mind later. i don’t stand on my points that strongly when i see it’s unreasonable.”

“that’s very wise way to deal with things, if i may say so.”

nobody ever called you wise. you wouldn’t call yourself wise for what you feel after him saying that.

“what do you do today’s evening after work?”

your heart skips a beat, even though you know he doesn’t mean anything more than what he asks.

“eat? sleep? i don’t have anything else to do.”

“damn, wish that was me” he laughs, once again, quite bitterly.

“i wouldn’t wish this life upon anyone, but it’s nice sometimes” you say, not really thinking about him.

“why.”

“why it’s nice?”

“no, i get that part. why wouldn’t wish this upon anyone?”

it’s complicated, you want to say. there’s a long, long story, you don’t really need to hear that.

“it’s boring” you don’t find what else to say. he almost scoffs.

“well, sounds great to me”

you know it’s not for him, you know he’s a hostage of his feeling of responsibilty, he wouldn’t handle this life. wouldn’t handle being unable to do anything.

“i doubt it’s for you” you whisper. he looks down. you wanna cry because of how sorrowful he looks right know.

“yeah, i know”.

the silence is crushing loud in your ears.

“hawks-san” you’re stuttering a bit, when his eyes immediately are on you, so bright and perceptive “maybe, you should rest a bit? it’s important to rest. you’re-”

“what, not looking as good as usual?” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “you know what’s funny? i know everyone thinks that, yet no one was brave enough to say that to my face. it’s amusing.”

“please don’t say that. that’s not what i meant.”

“i know” his gaze softens a bit “but i have work to do.”

“isn’t there anybody else to do that? i’m sure somebody would help if you asked.”

“not really, no” he shakes his head, sad smale never leaving his lips. “i can’t throw anyone under the bus other than myself.”

then don’t throw yourself under the bus, you want to say. but he’s still your boss, and while you can speak with him freely, that would be rude and unnecessary. it’s not your place to say him anything.

“i really should go” he says it so quietly. “take care of yourself, y/n. i hope your dreams will be good.”

you stare at the open window for a good five minutes, unable to move, unable to think. it’s windy and there are papers everywhere, yet you do nothing but stare at the place from where he flew out. then you compose yourself and start cleaning. it helps to clear your mind, it helps to stop your heart from almost breaking. you carefully close the door after, stand there for a few long moments and then almost run after your clothes.

it’s nine thirty when you leave the building. you know your boss is somewhere he doesn’t want to be, but it’s his job, because he’s one of the brightest ones, and you’re not. you know he’s miserable because he does something he doesnt want to do, and he can’t have what he wants. and what he wants is so, so simple and mundane. so boring.

but it’s late. nine thirty.

and you go home.

[pandasan-power]

Zeke is my favourite fictional character. He's just so... fascinating. He's initially presented as weird and mysterious but he turns out to be a giant dork and a huge loser with the most severe daddy issues I've ever seen.

I love him so much. Here's a very long ramble that's kinda sorta a character analysis (it's bad though).

He gives off Reddit mod energy (then again, Eren has Discord mod energy (disclaimer: I love Eren too)), has the sense of humour of a 12 year old, hangs around people who are quite a bit younger than him (granted, his only other option is creepy old military men), has smoked since he was probably like 15 and spends his life "pretending" to be stupid.

And yet he genuinely cares about other people in his own way. He really did just want to make it so that Eldians didn't have to suffer. He assumed that because he had a shit life and was treated terribly (as were his parents), everyone else was in the same boat. It never occured to him that other Eldians were happy, because, like, why would they be?

He's willing to go to the ends of the earth and beyond to fulfill his mission, which he's held on to since he was a teenager. Even though Ksaver did plant the seeds for Zeke, Zeke came up with his plan himself. Ksaver never mentioned anything about reproduction, just that the Founder could be used to alter Eldian biology.

He's devasted when Eren goes "lol jk bro" and betrays him, because he finally found someone he thought he could trust (his first mistake was trusting Eren of all people). He couldn't understand why Eren went against his plan, or what Eren was even trying to accomplish in the first place.

Also, I think it's worth mentioning that Zeke's euthanasia plan undermines everything Ymir Fritz went through. She suffered severely, but I like to imagine that she really did love her daughters to the best of her ability. Zeke saying that Eldians would be better off not existing in the first place and that he's going to get rid of them is telling Ymir Fritz that all her suffering was for absolutely fucking nothing. Whereas Eren wants Eldians to live on, because that way, Ymir can be freed, and she can see that there is beauty in the world (which she did via Mikasa, as badly explained as it was lol).

Zeke never saw that beauty. He was brainwashed and abused and taken advantage of his entire life. By his parents, by Marley (yes, even Ksaver), and, later, by Eren. To him, there was nothing redeeming about the world.

Hence his final line where he talks about what a lovely day it is and how nice/clear the sky is, but that it ultimately is too late to realise that (? I haven't read the chapter in a while, I don't remember the exact wording). That's him acknowledging that he was wrong about the world lacking beauty.

Yes, Ksaver did care for him and did love him, but he did also use Zeke for his own gain. He was projecting his son onto Zeke, as he said so himself in canon, and he was also hoping that Zeke could accomplish what he (Ksaver) wasn't able to. Zeke may not have been as determined to save the Eldians (in his own way) if he hadn't spent time with Ksaver.

Zeke and Eren are fascinating to me, because Eren threw away his humanity in order to save the world/his loved ones, yet was very upset that he had to do so (given his paths convo with Armin), yet Zeke... was stripped of most of his humanity before he had a chance to even embrace it. My personal interpretation is that he never realised he was lacking humanity (which is something Levi kept trying to point out, especially in the forest with reminding Zeke about his Rakago crime) because death and killing were so normalised to him (and to him, his enemies weren't human because they were mostly Eldians and he, as an Eldian, wasn't considered human -- or at least he may have used that as a justification for his actions), and it wasn't until the very end that it hit him.

Lastly, part of why I love the dynamic between Zeke and Levi is that they're two sides of the same coin. They're both admired and feared by people (for different reasons), are traumatised in every possible way, and are similar yet also very different.

When they're interacting, neither of them give a shit about the other's status or powers or whatever. They fight like equals on par with each other and don't hold back. Warchief Zeke? Captain Levi? Nope. They're just Zeke and Levi to each other. (And they'd be friends if they were on the same side, maybe.)

ANYWAY Zeke Yeager is a great character and I love my monkeyman so much. He had such good character development and his backstory is really well done. The "I love you, Zeke" paths scene is my favourite since in all of SnK just for how much that means for both Grisha and Zeke.

[kristailine]

On Kazuya's and Jun's Love Languages

I really love this ship with all my heart like I think I shipped them way before I have known what shipping meant. It's so frustrating that we really don't know much about their relationship and dynamic in canon but I can't help but wonder what they would've been like as a couple >.<

For me, personally, I really do think that Kazuya and Jun are both suckers on Quality Time. I feel like once they felt their attraction to the other, they kept longing to be in each other's presence, and at first Kaz was probably like "I just have to know more about her because she's mysterious." and shit like that like hunny, just say you're crushing on her 😩

Jun probably thought the same like "I need to be in his presence because of the darkness that surrounds him." Just say he's hot and you wanna date him, girl.

When they do hang out together, they make the most out of their time and just really let themselves get lost in the moment. It probably also supports that no matter how short the KOIFT 2 was, it was enough quality time for them to bond with each other enough for them to fall in love or get closer to one another or however viewers wanna interpret it (as we wait for tk8 to confirm wth happened between them in tk2).

Kazuya's secondary love language - I think I'm leaning mostly on Acts of Service. He probably isn't aware because he just thinks he's doing people a favor, but unconsciously, it's his way to show that he cares about the people he values. Like that man helped Bruce seek refuge after the plane crash and fake his death so he doesn't get caught by interpol. Hell he even granted Anna her request of being put in cryo sleep.

Doing acts of service to express his love for Jun was probably the most convenient and easiest way he could ever express how much he cares about her. Other love languages are just too explicit so he mostly tries to reason to himself that 'he's just doing Jun a favor' but it's probably him doing his best to get the message across that he truly values her so he's willing to do such things for her.

I can just imagine Jun having a bad day, and Kaz, being the man that he is who sucks with speaking comforting words and probably never initiated physical affection to anyone, gets up from his seat and goes "I'll show you some of the floras in the Mishima Estate garden since you love ecology so much." and then hopes she'll feel better. "I'll go get Lee to fix those papers you need for your work." or maybe even when they're sparring, Kazuya would always be the one to get her a bottle of water and a towel to wipe her sweat off with, since Jun is probably out of breath and needs more time to recover.

Jun's secondary love language - Words of Affirmation. Have ya'll just seen the sappiest ass shit she says to Kazuya in her tk8 intros and outros and even in Tekken Motion Picture like girlie has a helluva lot to say and she is so valid so let her speak 🗣️

Tekken Bloodline (tho non canon ugh) also kinda portrays Jun being comforting with words with the way she talks to Jin after his encounter with the bullies. Jun is seen as having some kind of profound sense of wisdom which enables her to empathize and feel people due to her being psychic and also spending most of her time during childhood getting in touch with nature. So I think with that, she always has the right words to say, and she knows exactly how to put into words how much she cares for a person. Plus she's an INFJ (lol).

Kazuya probably wouldn't have let her in his life had Jun not said the right words upon meeting him. Kazuya being in such a powerful position during TK2 had him surrounded with people who only spoke of deceit and lies to get to his good side and all that, and seeing how genuine Jun was with her words and how much it deeply soothed some of his inner wounds may have deepened the way he saw her. Thus, they became closer.

I do like to think that even though Jun is good with her words, she never really got the guts to outright say I love you to Kazuya 😩 I think she be too shy and bashful for that but argh with a little bit more of delulu to the ship, maybe I can convince myself that she did. Objectively speaking really, I don't think she could ever have said it during TK2.

Honorable mentions to Jun's secondary love language - Physical touch. Like idkkkkk, probably just me but I think I got it from somewhere that her tk8 outro literal translation kinda says she wants to snuggle up to Kazuya, and that is just so sweet 😩 im crying

Just a few two cents on them really :>>