#i planned this out terribly so i had to draw far more backgrounds for this short trailer than I did for minute long final project

[willczek-art]

Collection of The Museum backgrounds from my Super Squad High trailer intro! :D

All based on game artworks by Tan Ganguly

The project just got funded on Kickstarter, with few more days left to back it up! :D So if teenage superheroes and board games are your thing, be sure to check their page! (and my animation on there! :DD)

[amhrosina]

Your Pretty Heart (Billy Russo x f!Reader)

A/N: Anyone else widely obsessed with Pedro Pascal and The Last of Us right now? Being back in my Pedro era feels like getting home after a long ass trip. Should I write for some of Pedro's characters?? SOS! Also, I hit 800 followers today??? Like what??? Thank you to everyone who supports me and this account!!

Request: ex’s to lovers with Billy Russo or Matt Murdock. Where Frank and Karen “help” Billy/Matt get their ass together to get back with Reader. Because come on their clearly still in lovee. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: When you and Billy break up, Karen takes it upon herself to get you back together. Her plan comes to a head one night at Josie’s, and you and Billy must face the consequences of loving and leaving one another. 

(Warnings: so much angst, cursing, Billy is a soft!boy at heart, soft!Billy, descriptions of smut (but like romantic descriptions, not graphic ones??), I think that’s it, it’s literally just really sad until the end lol) 

“You look great.” Your date smiled, but he wasn’t looking at your face. Instead, for the third time in less than a minute, his eyes trailed the sloping curve of your cleavage as it disappeared into your dress. You shrugged his gaze off, hoping there was at least something interesting about him to keep you entertained for the evening. Something could be there. Deep, deep, down, but there, nonetheless.  

“So, Brad, what do you do for work? When Karen set this up, she didn’t tell me much about you.” 

“I’m an accountant.”  

Brad nodded his head along with yours, an awkward bob as you waited for him to return the question. He didn’t, instead choosing to fix his gaze on the jazz singer across the restaurant. Zero for two, Brad. 

“Do you, uh, have any hobbies?” You tried again to break the conversation dam, but Brad’s attention was so far away from the table you were sharing that he barely glanced at you when he responded. 

“I jog sometimes.” 

“Oh!” You lurched forward, desperate to grab onto anything that might make this date less awkward. “I like to jog, too. I’ll listen to books when I do it to pass the time. Do you read at all?” 

Brad’s eyes flicked to yours, then back to the jazz singer. Uninterested, bored, and inconvenienced. That’s what his glance told you. 

“People who need books or music when they run aren’t capable of self-reflection. It’s how you grow as a human being, you know? You should try it.”  

You blinked. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? A pompous, arrogant, prick seemed like the winning description, and you chuckled as you looped your purse handle over your shoulder. 

“Well, Brad.” You stood from your seat, drawing his attention away from the band. “Congratulations. You win. I think this is quite possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on, and that’s saying a lot.” 

You didn’t deem him with an explanation as you exited the restaurant, but a vivid memory flashed in your mind of Billy standing you up on your anniversary last year. Yeah, that date was terrible, but at least Billy hadn’t insulted you after standing you up. He’d spent weeks apologizing with flowers, jewelry, and even cutting down on his time at Anvil so he could spend more time with you, but that date would always stick out in your mind as the beginning of the end.  

You shook the thoughts from your head, digging through your purse to find your cellphone. Karen was going to explain where the fuck she met this guy, and why she thought setting him up with you would be a good idea. She picked up on the second ring. 

“Karen.” You tapped your foot on the sidewalk. “What the fuck?” 

“Hey! How was the date?”  

Wherever Karen was, it was loud. You could barely understand her through the speaker, muffled by music and what sounded like a crowd of people in the background.  

“The date was so bad.” You almost whined. Almost stomped your foot at how unfair the dating world had become. Almost thought about how much easier it was when you were with Billy. “Where did you even meet this guy?” 

“At work. Was he an asshole?” She sounded apologetic, but the volume at which she had to scream her question into the phone made the entire interaction feel a little less impactful.  

“Grade-A Asshole.” You groaned. “Where are you?” 

“I’m at Josie’s, but-” 

“Great. I’m on my way.”  

You hung up the phone before she could respond and hailed a taxi. You felt a little guilty for barging in on her evening. Karen was a good friend, one that you’d clung to since you and Billy had gone your separate ways, and she deserved a night out without your moping. But the nagging feeling rolling around in the pit of your stomach told you exactly the reason you had to go to Josie’s. If you didn’t go hang out with Karen, you’d end up calling Billy, and the last thing you wanted to do was let him see you after a shitty date. You climbed into the taxi and hoped you could drink away the memories of tonight with Karen once you arrived at Josie’s.  

- 

Billy took a hefty sip of his beer as he eavesdropped on Karen’s phone conversation. Technically, it wasn’t eavesdropping if Karen had whacked him on the arm the second her phone started ringing, but it made Billy uncomfortable anyways. What they’d planned felt too much like a trick, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. 

“She’s on her way.” Karen grinned, raising her beer in the air to clink bottles with him.  

Billy fiddled with the bottle in his hand, unsure if there was anything to be ‘cheersing’ to. 

“C’mon, Bill,” Frank grunted, meeting Karen’s still outstretched arm, “It worked. She’s on her way. Now, all you have to do is be a lesser asshole than her date.” 

“Don’t you think she’ll be furious when she finds out her entire evening was construed by her ex-boyfriend and best friends? She doesn’t even want to see me.” 

“Trust me, Billy,” Karen angled her head for emphasis, “She does. She just won’t admit it.” 

“How do you know, though?”  

“I see it on her face, and hear it in her voice, and she’s still sleeping on my couch. And you know what that tells me?”  

Billy rolled his eyes. “What does that tell you, Karen?” 

Karen’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “That she’s not looking for another apartment. That she still has hope that she’ll be able to go home, to your apartment.” 

Billy shook his head. “The market is insane. Maybe she just can’t find an affordable one.” 

“I saw three listed in the paper this morning. She’s not looking, Billy. She misses you.” 

Billy groaned, dragging his hands over his face. This entire situation was completely and totally fucked, and it was completely and totally his fault. He’d always been warned that his ambition would get the best of him. You’d slipped through his fingers so quickly that he got whiplash when he thought about the end of the relationship. It was like you were there one day and gone the next, and he had no idea how he ended up alone, stranded in his kitchen in the middle of the night because the idea of going to bed without you hurt too much.  

“What if it’s too late? What if I can’t fix it?” 

“All you can do is try, Bill.” Frank shrugged. 

“She loves you.” Karen spoke firmly, tapping her finger on the table, “And you love her. But she needs to know that. You have to show her that you love her.” 

“How? I thought I was doing that before.” Billy let out a disgruntled breath and cleared his throat.  

“Your priorities need to change. She deserves better than last-minute cancellations and rescheduled dates. You’re your own boss, Billy. You make the rules, and no matter how much money you spend on her, or how many gifts you buy her, she’s always going to remember the times that you didn’t show up.” 

Billy nodded. Karen was right, as usual. There’d been a significant change in the amount of time Billy was spending at Anvil, sometimes returning home early in the morning, only to change suits and leave again. It wasn’t your fault – it never was – but Billy couldn’t help himself from falling back into his old patterns. When shit got too real, he retreated, and it ended up costing him the most important thing in his life.  

Tonight was his chance to fix everything – to bring you home, to remind you that he adored you, to show you that his life was falling apart without you in it. All he had to do was get you to listen, and he was sure everything else would fall into place. 

- 

You took three steps into the bar before swiveling around and marching out in a dramatic fashion. Cursing Karen for conveniently forgetting to mention that Billy was with her, you tried not to stomp down the sidewalk that led to Karen’s apartment. If you had an apartment of your own, you’d surely be stomping your way there instead.  

You didn’t make it far before you heard your name being called behind you. Two distinct voices trailed you, but you were more focused on the lack of the third. Had he stayed behind at the bar? You swung around, almost slamming into Frank’s chest. Karen was a few steps behind him, and behind her, stood beautiful and broken Billy, hands in his pants pockets.  

“What?” You screeched, eyes flickering between the group. 

“I just wanted to tell you thaaaat,” Karen’s eyes twinkled, and you should’ve known that she was about to make your night go from bad to worse, “I’m going back to my apartment with my boyfriend, who is going to do very loud things to me for hours. If I were you, I’d steer clear of the whole block tonight.” 

You rolled your eyes and looked at Frank, whose innocent expression gave away Karen’s plan faster than you could piece it together. Clearly, this coup had been planned, and they were leaving you with no option but to spend time with Billy. 

“Is that so?” You narrowed your eyes at her, hoping she could read every nasty thought you’d ever had about her in your gaze.  

“Yep!” She hooked an arm through Frank’s and tugged him down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow!” 

You watched them until they turned a corner, and you could no longer see them. When you turned to face Billy again, he had inched closer to you, standing a heady meter away with his hands still in his pockets. 

“Did you plan this?”  

The anger in your voice echoed across the concrete, slamming into Billy. He grasped his chest as if you’d shot him in the heart.  

“No. I didn’t even know there was a plan until I showed up at Josie’s earlier.” 

You hesitated to believe him, but something in the way he was looking at you told you to trust him. You looked him up and down, focusing on the way he looked worse than you’d ever seen him. For a brief second, you felt triumph over it. He deserved this after everything he did to you. He deserved to feel like shit. The triumph faded faster than it came, and an overwhelming sadness replaced the ire thoughts you were having about him.  

There were bags under his eyes, and you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well. He never did when he couldn’t sleep with you. The facial hair that he usually kept so neat and maintained had grown beyond his usual boundaries, and the fact that he kept subconsciously scratching at it told you he didn’t like it. You tried not to let it get to you. You probably looked like shit, too.  

“How’ve you been?” His focus remained wholly on you. You rubbed the back of your neck to try and shake off his stare. 

“We don’t have to do this, Bil.” You looked at the ground, focusing on the crack in the concrete that crawled its way across the sidewalk, drawing a line inbetween you and Billy. You couldn’t decide if that was fitting, or incredibly sad. Maybe it was both. 

“We’re not doing anything.” He shook his head innocently. 

“You know what I mea-” 

“Come home.”  

There was a pregnant pause in the conversation as the two of you eyed each other. 

“Billy, I-” 

“Just for tonight. Until Karen’s apartment is...safe again.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for an ulterior motive. And of course, there was an ulterior motive. You couldn’t blame him for it, because you knew if the roles were reversed, you’d be doing the same thing.  

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, more towards yourself than at him.  

“Why not?” He cocked his head to the side. 

“You know why.”  

He nodded but shrugged his shoulders anyways.  

“I’m not going to leave you out here with nowhere to go. It’s either the apartment, or we spend the next few hours in awkward silence at a diner.” 

The apartment. Not ‘my’ apartment. He didn’t consider it his when you weren’t there to claim the other half of it. You couldn’t lie to yourself. You wanted so badly to go with him, to see the home that you’d built with him. You wanted so badly to see how he’d faired over the last month without you. It was with all this in mind, and not how much you missed him, that had you nodding, agreeing to go home. Just for a visit, you repeated in your mind, just for a visit. 

When you stepped into what was once the living room you shared with Billy, you were struck with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. There was nothing different about it, except that the bookshelf was a little less stuffed than usual. You’d grabbed your favorites on your way out, unable to part with them, even just for a little bit. 

“Can I get you some wine?” Billy asked, already heading toward the kitchen to pour himself a glass. You nodded, shrugging your jacket off and trying to ignore the strangeness of being treated like a guest in the home that you’d lived in for years.  

When Billy returned with two particularly full glasses, you plopped down on the couch. You didn’t know how to act, or what to say, or who to be when you were around him anymore and falling back into old habits seemed like a grand way to get your feelings hurt again. 

“You didn’t answer my question earlier.” Billy took a swig from his glass, sitting on the armchair across from the couch. You silently thanked the universe that he had put distance between the two of you. The closer he was, the less clearly you could think.  

“Which one?” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Oh.” You took a sip, only because it gave you something to do with your hands. “I’ve been alright.” 

He smiled, but the corners of his mouth didn’t reach his eyes. Anyone who looked at you longer than two seconds could see that you’re clearly not doing alright, but you’d grown comfortable living in denial, and you weren’t going to admit how not alright you were.  

“Heard your date didn’t go well.” 

You scoffed. Maybe it was the wine, or the way he looked smug about the fact that you’d had a shitty date, but you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.  

“Fuck you, Billy. It’s none of your business.” 

Billy looked startled by your outburst. You gulped down another mouthful of wine before rubbing your hand down your face. 

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from.” 

“It’s okay. I probably deserve it.” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. 

“What happened to us?” You asked, gazing at the ceiling. 

“You tell me, sunflower. You’re the one that left.” 

Your heart ached at the nickname. It wasn’t fair that he used it, especially when you were clearly in a vulnerable mood, but you cherished it anyways.  

“You left first.”  

It was barely a whisper, said so quietly that you weren’t quite sure he had heard you. If the palpable tension that followed wasn’t indicative of his acknowledgment, the deep sigh that erupted from his chest soon after was indication enough. He stayed quiet, swirling the remaining wine in his glass around in small circles. 

You stared at him, unflinching in your assessment of his body language. He didn’t look as miserable as you felt, and a spark of anger ignited in your belly because of it.  

“Did you ever really love me, Bil?” You barked. It was bait, and both of you knew it. You’d never questioned his love for you, and he knew you were trying to get a rise out of him, but he couldn’t help stepping up to the plate and taking the bait. 

“What kind of fucking question is that?” He watched you closely. You tried not to let your triumph show on your face. “Of course, I love you.” 

He stood from his seat and rested his hands on his hips, willing you to do the same. Meet him where he stood, he dared, show him how much you still care. You were nothing if not a daredevil. You joined him in the middle of the room, pressing your index finger into his chest. 

“Well then, what the fuck happened?”  

“You. Tell. Me.” He gritted from between clenched teeth. 

Billy wasn’t being fair to you, and he knew it. You were asking a valid question, and he was cowering behind the anger and frustration in the room.  

“I can’t do this again, Bil.” You turned, reaching for your purse. A heavy tug on your elbow had you crashing into Billy’s chest, where he enveloped his arms around you and pulled you into a crushing hold.  

“You’re not leaving, are you?”  

There was a softness in his voice that tugged at your heartstrings. For a moment, you forgot you were speaking to a grown man and not an orphaned little boy. You blew a long breath out before shaking your head. He rested his forehead against your shoulder. 

“No, Bil. I’m not leaving.” 

“I always knew I’d end up breaking your pretty heart.” His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you didn’t miss the slight crack in his words. “I knew I’d fuck it up eventually.” 

“I don’t understand what happened. Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t.” You blinked away the tears that had built up on your waterline.  

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

You cupped his face as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His eyes, now red-rimmed and glassy, pleaded with you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lowering your body next to his. 

“What’s going on?” You asked him, eyes flickering between his fast-blinking eyelids and rapidly shaking hands.  

“I was afraid.” He cleared his throat. “Am. I am afraid.” 

“Of what? Where is this coming from?” You gaped. You knew Billy struggled with commitment more than most – it had taken him almost a year of serious dating before he could tell you he loved you – but you thought he had moved past that. 

“Tom’s getting married.” 

Your brow furrowed. “What does Tom have to do with us?” 

“Tom’s getting married, and all I can think about is how I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give that to you, and how you deserve someone who can give you everything you want and more.” 

You let his words sink into your chest, dissecting every interaction you’d had with him leading up to your breakup. It had been a slow descent, and when it finally became too much, you’d left with no clue how you ended up alone and sleeping on Karen’s couch every night. 

“Billy,” You shuttered, shaking your head as tears began to travel down your cheeks, “I never said I wanted any of that.” 

“It’s what you deserve.” 

“But it’s not what I want. Why couldn’t you see that I was happy with the way things were?” 

“I was terrified that you’d leave me. And then I became a shit boyfriend, and you really did leave me, and it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You wiped the tears from under your eyes and sniffled. “You weren’t always a shit boyfriend.” 

Billy snorted, letting a small smile cross his face as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“Can you ever forgive me, sunflower?” 

You considered his question. If you were being completely honest, you’d forgiven him as soon as you saw his pretty, brown eyes across the bar earlier, so sad and searching for you.  

“Can you promise that you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like this again, instead of shutting me out?” You cupped his cheek, eyes flicking down to his lips and then back up to his eyes.  

“I can promise that I’ll try.” He swallowed, searching your expression. “Is that enough?” 

You lurched forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss tasted of red wine and salt, and you were suddenly grateful that you’d slumped to the floor earlier instead of waiting until now, when your knees were weak and shaking with anticipation.  

“I love you.” Billy mumbled inbetween kisses. 

“Show me.” You responded, opening yourself to him for the first time in over a month. 

He took you right there on the living room floor, a flurry of intertwined limbs, swollen lips, and skin brushing skin. His lips only left yours long enough to whisper praises against your neck before returning to yours in a bruising kiss. When you came apart underneath him, you couldn’t stop the tears from forming, but he didn’t mind. He kissed the tears away, apologies in their own right, as he continued showing you how much he loved you. 

Later on, after hours of reconciliation and apologies, you collapsed next to Billy on the couch. You’d lost your clothes a long time ago, only covered with the throw blanket you’d purchased the year before on a whim, and you watched as he sighed in quiet contemplation.  

“We should tell Karen and Frank that their plan worked.” You rested your head on his shoulder. He smiled, pulling you into his chest.  

“Let them figure it out on their own. They’ll come around at some point tomorrow when you still haven’t gone back.” 

He was right. The next morning, when Karen and Frank knocked on the door, you and Billy were still cuddled together on the couch, so worn out from the night before that you hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to move to the bedroom. You took one glance at Billy before you were on him again, uncaring that your friends were waiting. That’s fine, you thought, let them wait. Let them wait. 

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[classasurreptitiouslurker]

Gabriel's Memory, Again

So, a while back I mentioned that I found that, with a nitpick-y approach, you could arguably say that all of the times (I make it five, but let me know if I've forgotten anything) when Jim remembers - using the term loosely here, because I'm also including his trances - something of Gabriel all operate differently. This, now, is the nitpick in question. Fair warning: there's no conclusion to be had here, since there's not enough similarities to draw one, and just the fact of the differences also isn't exactly sufficient for that, and as I mainly wrote this to lay it and my thoughts out - for clarity, recall and organisation, but also as a starting point and, so to speak, to-do list for things I want to look at still - it may be a little (or little more) rough.

First up, going by episode chronology, we've got whatever it was that drove Jim to seek out Aziraphale to begin with. From what he says, it seems to have been a combination of perceptions that led him to Aziraphale: a vague sense of doom - the "something terrible" - and an equally vague sense that this was a being who could help and shelter him - "as long as I came here [it] might not happen to me". Whether he's feeling love, or ethereal energy, or still subconsciously retaining a memory of Aziraphale's personality, or of a plan he formed while he was still Gabriel, and what exactly the "something terrible" actually was, since he can't actually remember, just that it's coming (and how did he find the bookshop anyways?), is, while interesting and a topic for the future, not making much of a difference here. Either way, whatever precisely's behind this, it's manifesting in a way that seems like a sort of sixth sense, a vague, generalised impression, strong enough to move him but not so strong as to give him any urgency, apparently emotion-based and possibly, at least partially, not actually a memory at all.

Next is when starts singing Everyday to himself in E2. He has no idea why he starts doing it - he doesn't even realise he is at first - or where it came from and it seems to have come to him later, rather than being something he knew from the start, with no particular trigger beyond a possible tenuous after K comes L -> L = love -> love = Beelzebub -> Beelzebub = Everyday connection, in which case it's still not jarring or abrupt in the way he suddenly gets snapped into his trance later in the episode. Everyday featured prominently in two of the three key Beelzebub meetings we were shown, and is a symbol of their relationship, not to mention played a fairly major role in the memory of him receiving the fly, the critical component of his escape plan, making it a personally significant piece of information. Like the instinct that made him seek out Aziraphale, it revolves around emotion; however, beyond that, it's practically entirely opposite. Whereas the former's broad, seemingly slightly random, and without the details to make sense of it, Everyday's essentially one single important detail, completely isolated and context-free, something we later learn is special to Gabriel, but which is without that additional background far too narrow in scope to explain even its presence, let alone its meaning.

In the same episode, we also get his first trance-like altered state. He 'snaps' into this state after Crowley directly questions him about "the first thing [he] remember[s]" - possibly what he meant in the last episode by "ask him properly" (and another post - really this whole paragraph is) - although snaps isn't really the right word for the way he struggles into the trance, wrestling either with his own memory or a possessing force. The process seems exhausting and painful, and he says he can't keep going, adding "not anymore" with a surprising sudden flash of insight into his former capabilities, and he appears disorientated - but aware of the situation - afterwards. His eyes go back to Supreme Archangel Gabriel purple and God's voice echoes alongside his when he speaks. The words are also God's, spoken when Gabriel was not actually present. It seems unlikely that the Bildad masquerade would have gone the way it did if he'd been spying on that scene, but there's no way to truly eliminate the possibility that he somehow overheard God, though that seems an utterly random memory to procure. It's possible God is somehow speaking through him, or perhaps Gabriel simply has access to Her words, in form of some kind of God's Messenger function, however, I've also wondered whether they both use the same words because they are both referring to the same, third, thing. Regardless of what exactly's going on here - as I said, I'd like to make a separate post for that sometime - it doesn't fit into a pattern with either of the previous occurrences, which, okay, this is a separate matter, but it doesn't seem the same as his next trance either.

Coming to said next trance: at the end of E3, Jim gets (apparently) triggered by Crowley's use of the word "tempest", which features in his own words, and accordingly, seems to have acted as a sort of key or index. Once again, there's a clear verbal cue, though of slightly different format, that snaps him into his trance, delivered, again, by Crowley. It looks smoother this time however, less of a struggle and more a fluid transition from one moment to the next. His eyes revert to Angel-Gabriel-BluePurple and while I personally don't hear anyone speaking, I'm taking other people's word that it sounds like there's a woman voice overlaid; it's certainly not God speaking again though. The words themselves, bizarrely enough considering that this is all about memory, sound very much like a prophecy. Of course it's possible that the memory element comes back in if he's either repeating a prophecy he's heard or read before (greetings to Agnes) or if it's referring to an event that's already happened (or that it's not a prophecy at all) but at first glance, we seem to be dealing with the future instead of the past, which, besides being strange, is distinctly the opposite of last time's distant biblical past. After the trance ends, with a moment's delay that almost gave the impression he was going to say more, Jim's memory appears inexplicably reverted to its E1 state, something I'd say doesn't seem to happen after the first trance. Having presumably plot relevant for as-yet-unknown reasons, clearly otherworldly moments of recollection, they would naturally be distinct from the 'regular' workings of Jim's amnesia, but the issue is that they're also different from each other.

Finally, there's his conversation with Crowley in E5, in which he describes where his memory is: "In a matchbox. No, I took it out first... and I put it in the box and I brought it here...". There's only really one piece missing here, the fly, which is the most important bit, sure, but at the same time a fairly small one. Beyond that, this is a fairly focused, specific, relevant memory of direct personal importance, decently detailed and even showing signs of putting a chronology back together, with which he is able to give a direct, on-topic answer to a question. He then follows this up with the "institutional problem" comment, which is unfortunately, unlike the matchbox-memory segment, back to being totally abstracted from context. It does relate to the topic, since it was connected to his trial, but of course, for the characters it's once again an entirely random statement. Still, this whole sequence (triggered once again by Crowley's probing) is the most precision Jim ever shows regarding Gabriel's memories, offering specific details and relevant, targeted, albeit not actually useful, answers, an on-point factualness that doesn't really align with the emotionally-driven, intuition-like flashes of his previous memories. He also says that it hurts to remember, which seems to be more the case in his first trance - he's even repeating the 'head not big enough' here - than in the two previous - and despite their differences, still more similar to this than said trance - cases of 'normal' remembering.

[gildinbainas]

i almost lost you. //Beschu in the middle of carnage, slaughter and war - but it's not even his blade that swings anymore. Only the hellfire that incinerates the battlefield as his heart pieces itself together again for Atem's awakening.

PROMPTS FOR the budding romance

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ || @nvrcmplt

Everything happened rather quickly. There was no time to think --- only act --- and that's exactly what everyone did before the king could even give the first order. Beschu was torn between staying at the king's side at the first sign of trouble or heading out to survey the trouble that had marched through the gates towards the palace. In the end, Atem convinced him he would be of far better use out there and so Beschu headed for the first window, jumping out of it and transforming mid air. It didn't take long for the cries of Egypt to reach the king's ears. No matter how much the vizier insisted he stay inside and 'let those who trained for this' handle it, Atem could not bring himself to stay inside without seeing first hand just how bad it was out there.

And it was BAD. The breeze carried sand and smoke towards the palace with ease giving much cause for concern with how strong the stench burned his nostrils. Defying the old man was the likely out of order, but Atem fled the throne room ignoring the old man's cries as he raced towards the source of the fires.

He didn't remember much. Ka spirits and his army marched through the streets swinging swords and spears while blood littered the sand. In the background, fires raged on while Ka spirits fought in the midst of it all pushing back the enemy. His kingdom had been prepared for this, as it was no easy feat to draw them farther away from the city. Citizens had been evacuated through tunnels built long ago --- at least until it was safe to return ( if it would ever be safe ) leaving the streets mostly free from too many civilian casualties. This part had been planned for long ago, but the actual casualties… Despite the upgraded weapons and light weight armor, they were struggling if the carnage he observed from his horse was any indication.

Dammit!

He could not let the fall of his home be the legacy he left behind. And so despite lingering injuries from another incident months back, he called forth one of his faithful gods and entered the battle alongside his army flanking west. With a sword in hand as well, he would attempt double his efforts setting aside the knowledge that exerting himself too much was probably a terrible idea.

The last thing he remembered was being surrounded by foreign foot soldiers, but holding his own all the same. There was shouting all around him; war cries and orders being given that he couldn't bother to adhere to in the moment. His ba was incredibly low and the sword in hand was beginning to feel heavier with each swing taken. Whether or not he was finally hit, he could not recall. All he knew was that upon opening his eyes, Bes was leaning over him looking rather distressed. He could hear anguished cries all around him and the sounds of people being gutted, choking on blood. He could smell the strong fumes from the smoke and sand nearly suffocating him, but more than that was the heat from the fire brushing against his skin.

Atem looked to Bes, noting the look of relief upon his face despite blood and dark hair obscuring most of it. From the pain in his body, Atem had to wonder if he had given everyone a scare. Bes' demeanor had him thinking that perhaps he was out for quite a while. Atem tried to sit up and perhaps reassure Bes that he would be alright but in truth, his body felt anything but great. A sharp pain shot through his body and he gasped, with Bes being quick to scoop him up.

"I got you, I got you. It's going to be okay."

Words were softly spoken though in truth, they did little to comfort the king --- not when Bes still looked rather concerned. Atem didn't have the heart to inquire about the battle. Truth be told, he knew his spirit would be crushed should he find out that they lost. So instead he let his eyes close, drowning out the sounds of war as Bes carried his aching form. There would be plenty of time for catching up. At least that's what he told himself. . . .

[ff7central]

Mod Miri here! Today on the blog we have Upside (she/they), who can be found here on Tumblr and Archive of Our Own. 

General FF7 Questions

Who is your favourite character from the FFVII setting? What do you love about them?

I write most often with Sephiroth and Cloud, but my favorite character is Barret. I love Barret and I always have. He starts out rough and gruff, but you find out fast he is not at all. He fights because he feels he has to. Most of all I love that he is a great father. It's a huge point of contention that he leaves Marlene behind, but I think it gets glossed over that it kills him to not be with her. If he's with her, however, it means he isn't fighting to make sure she has a future worth living, but every moment away he is thinking about her and missing her terribly. I love him. I love that inner conflict and the guilt he faces and fights past. He's just so *chef's kiss*

Favourite party (three person team) idea when playing FFVII? They don’t have to actually work mechanically (or even be possible in the game), just that you like the idea of them together as a fighting party.

Cloud-Barret-Nanaki. I don't know why I played as these guys so much. I forced myself to try and even out the team XP, but I always came back to these guys.

Is there a headcannon or AU you want to see more of?

That's a question I'm more likely to ask everyone else. I'm always coming up with headcanons and AUs. They just pour out of me. I can't really think of one that's stuck with me for super long.

Do you have a favourite memory associated with FF7 (any part of compilation) or something particular you did while playing (such as what you named the characters, or how you arranged your materia) that you think is unique that you'd like to share?

Creator Questions

Who has been the most difficult character to write/draw? Who has been the easiest?

Aerith. I love her and her characterization, but she is a tough nut to crack for me. She is a far, far cry from a damsel needing rescue, but there's a lot of issues to unpack for her. A lot of secrets she never told and probably planned to. I struggle to reach the parts of her that probably did need help without taking away the chaos and the strength she 100% had.

What’s your ideal creating environment? Background noise/silence, indoors/outdoors, desk/couch, etc.?

I am a freak of nature. I write best in a silent room, laying down or sprawled over a couch. It doesn't have to be dark, but it does have to be inside.

What’s your creative process look like? Pantser/Emotive Writer/Gardener or Planner/Structured Writer/Architect? (Do you outline or just go with the flow?) If you’re an artist, do you do a lot of sketches, or just dive right in? Backgrounds first, or the main focal point? Multiple layers or all in one?

I'm a definite pantser. I go with the flow, but it only works so long as there is a flow. I'm trying desperately to at least make a general outline of fics now and I write those in pencil so I can't say I lost the drafts.

What do you do when you get stuck on a project?

Walk away. Sometimes literally. I'll go for a walk and just think it over, try and walk a mile in the character's shoes. Sometimes (often) I walk away for far too long.

Do you do commissions, requests, or prompts? (If you have a page for it, drop a link.)

I take headcanon prompts almost all the time on tumblr. On occasion I will do full-fic requests in exchange for a charity donation (your choice).

Which of your works is the most memorable to you? I don’t necessarily mean favourite or best work, it could be the work that taught you the most through making it or that holds a special reason in its creation. Drop a link.

Test Notes from the ShinRa Handheld Portal Device is a fic I wrote, in several large chunks during Do Good Weirdly sessions in the Summer and Winter. This event is a huge challenge but a ton of fun. Authors and Artists from fandoms all over spend a set amount of time just creating non-stop. At the end, the creators donate to a charity of their choice. It is an amazing time to spend with some rad and creative people and I highly recommend joining us this winter for the next session

Without them I never would have written this crossover fic I'm insanely proud of: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32666962/chapters/81036598

It’s hard for me to go through everything you’ve done to pick stuff to mention. Is there a particular piece you’d like plugged, other than the one in the last question?

Nerd Chic is my most popular fic. It's an ASGZC slow burn where Cloud gets glasses: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170231/chapters/6884306

I also particularly love You are What you Eat. It's cheesy, sappy soul mate fun and good for a rainy day: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22742071/chapters/54342010

Community/Fandom Questions

What aspects of fandom spark the most joy for you?

The people. There is negativity everywhere, but once you curate your followers and your friends there's nothing that can beat just seeing what the people you let around you create. Y'all are amazing.

Is there something you'd like to see more of in the community?

Commenting and Reblogging. I'm guilty of liking and moving on and forgetting, but art and fic die if it doesn't spread around. Reblog and Comment if you like it and want to see more. It means more to the creators. It really does.

Anything you’d like to say to the community?

Thanks for making this a space that has sparked so much joy. I've loved this game since I was a kid and I'm so happy to just sit and talk with others who do too.

Is there a work belonging to someone else that you’d like to plug?

I love Pedulum by Evil Robot Cat: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170231/chapters/6884306

And also all of the Cat's artwork. It's good stuff

I would also recommend all of Illusioneery's work art and fic. There's a lot to pick from.

Thanks so much for joining me, Upside! You are a pleasure to have in our community. 

Interested in participating in a FF7Central interview, or nominating someone? Check out the form here.

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[galaxythreads]

may i, perchance, inquire about the lovingly named Thing.2 for the wip thing?

Of course, bestie! <3

Fun little background first and a basic plot then I'll add a little teaser that will probably be inaccurate by the time that I get this finished in approximately six years. XD

I originally started working on this in 2019(?) and not even in a google doc. I was just writing in a journal and the idea struck me so I started to write out a scene and from there it kind of spiraled into this rolling mass. It was terrible to write this all up into a computer, haha, and thankfully I've just worked on it in a doc since.

Which, proof of concept:

Oh my gosh I was still using Georgia as a font when I last worked on this. Lol. Okay. Definitely 2019.

I lie:

2019 was when it STARTED.

Basic plot idea: In Avengers 1, Natasha notices that something isn't quite right with Loki when she's interrogating him and realizes that, oh, he's actually severely injured right now. She points this out and Thanos, in an effort to protect the secrecy of his mission from Asgard, attempts to kill him over the mind link. The Avengers + a mostly dead Loki are then left scrambling to stop an invasion and also keep Loki from being murdered.

*This is, as a heads up, a story where Laura doesn't exist because Clintasha is my comfort pairing.

Snippet:

This is where he’s off. Natasha is here to get answers, and she’s going to press for them. She’s not afraid to draw blood, and if that’s what it comes to, so be it. She is the balm and the torture.

But she’s it.

No one before.

No one after.

So why is he so tight? Rogers went after Loki in Stuttgart, but beyond throwing a few useless punches until Stark tossed Loki a good few dozen feet, they didn’t fight. He surrendered rather quickly. No one has really touched the Asgardian; Natasha doesn’t understand why he’d be in pain. His hair is slick with sweat, too, as if the cell is blistering hot when it’s barely comfortably warm in here.

Natasha hesitates. It’s barely a second, but Loki’s smile widens all the same, eyes conveying a message she doesn’t understand. Her tongue twists in the roof of her mouth, stuck. His expression is all wrong, tips a grimace, and his eyes so empty, but cold. And blue. She has never seen an eye color this vividly blue before. They’re almost glowing.

She...didn’t expect this. Did Fury even notice? Loki is in pain, and the reason evades her. Yes, no one has been gentle with him, but it’s not to the extent of this. It’s well hidden; truly if she hadn’t been taught to exploit weaknesses, like pain, she probably would have missed it.

But she hasn’t.

A question over Clint wants to spill out, demands to--I want to know what you’ve done with Agent Barton--but Natasha, with effort, holds it back. It can wait. It’s been three days thus far, wherever he is, he’s still alive and that’s all that matters. It has to wait. (She doesn’t want it to, but it has to).

It takes her less than five seconds for this to flash across her head, but it’s enough time for Loki’s smile to drop just slightly so he can scoff, “They send a child to draw my plans from me? How quaint. Agent Romanova, I must say--”

“You’re in pain. Why?” Natasha takes a step forward as Loki freezes. So subtle, quick, but it’s there. His face pales, hands tighten, spine attempts to straighten again before failing. But it’s over just as swiftly when his features smooth.

“I think you’re seeing what you wish to, my dear.” Loki’s voice is silk. “Fury’s fire and brimstone I have yet to make acquaintance with, though I know you wish I had.”

Natasha’s teeth set. It’s convincing, he’s good, she’ll give him that, but she trusts her instincts. “No,” she tilts her head, moving closer. “You’re in pain. Why?”

“I’m not in pain.” Loki’s voice is flat.

Natasha’s eyebrow raises in disagreement. His insistence really only makes her believe this more. There’s a desperation to the tone, as if he doesn’t want her to believe him. The four words are one of the most poorly constructed lies she’s come across to date.

“I’m not.” The Asgardian presses, eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing wrong with me. You are treading into dangerous waters, Agent Romanova, and I really would suggest you stop.”

Ha.

“I want to know what left you so crippled you can’t even keep yourself upright. Our guys have barely left a dent on you.” She says the words carefully. She saw the footage. Loki took a dozen bullets to the face and hardly seemed bothered by it. His resilience is impressive, which really only makes this all the more concerning.

His jaw tightens and eyes flicker, almost as if changing color, but she shakes it off to a trick of the lighting. His head draws back as he inhales deeply. Then, his smile widens. “Shall I tell you what I’ve done to Agent Barton?” Her stomach churns with disagreement. “How willingly he divulged his past, yours, those of the little gathering of lost pets. He was so willing to betray his lovers trust--”

No. That can’t be right. He wouldn’t do it willingly.

It’s mind control.

Clint’ wouldn’t--

What if Loki hurt him? What if Clint’s dying out there somewhere, and instead of gaining information about where he is and how to help, she’s chasing after a fanciful idea that Loki is in need of medical attention, when he’s clearly not--thief. He took Clint. But he’s in pain.

“--His mind has expanded, he’s beyond such petty attachment to useless, murderous ingrates like the famous Black--”

Natasha’s hand slams against the glass. It echoes, and Loki’s mouth snaps shut, but that smile is still here. Control, control, control. She reminds herself. She has the upperhand. He’s just playing with her. Taunting. Clint wouldn’t--

Focus.

Clint is a distraction for now. Love is for children. She needs to concentrate.

She draws in a deep breath, but keeps her knuckle on the glass. Loki’s expression is nothing short of delighted behind it. She’s never been more tempted to punch someone in the face. She squints, studying him. “It’s not your hands,” she lists out, steady, as Loki’s expression furrows with clear confusion, “because you’ve used them readily since arriving here. Shoulders is a fifty-fifty, but I’m going to vote no. No limp. Broken bones are such a nasty thing to compensate for, so it must be a flesh wound. Even so, I’d say ribs, but those are harder to keep upright with, so it must be--”

“Shut up, woman!” the light in his eyes flashes intensely and Natasha draws back, startled by both the flame and how raw Loki’s voice sounds. Broken. “This vessel is undamaged.” Loki hisses, drawing back a step. His face has fled of any emotion, leaving it barren and dead.

Something is wrong.

They missed something.

--- End.

Reading old writing is humiliating, lol. I cleaned this up a bit and I'm still ashamed. But yeah. Thanks for the ask, this made my day. :)

<3<3<3

Also talking about this makes me want to write it again. Maybe after You Screamed For So Long We Forgot To Care Anymore gets finished, I'll work on this one again.

[amjustagirl]

Hogwarts x Haikyuu AU

pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x f! reader 

genre: angst / fluff

warnings: a series of misunderstandings

wc: 2.3k

m.list. ~ taglist. ~

a/n: back by popular demand, another installment of the hogwarts x haikyuu fluff series featuring the Gryffindor quidditch team and one exceedingly persistent Iwaizumi Hajime. you may want to read the installment featuring one very smug Slytherin beater Kuroo Tetsuro (here) to appreciate the first scene in this story. 

“What are we doing here, Iwaizumi?” 

He’d grabbed your hand on a hogsmeade weekend, asking if you had any plans. You lied, crossing your fingers behind your back, telling him you hadn’t. So you find yourself seated opposite him in Madam Puddifoot’s, smothered by pink and white frills, surrounded by porcelain teaware.

By all appearances, it looks like a date. It should be a date. 

But it isn’t. 

Instead of chatting with you, he looks distinctly out of place amidst the swarm of happy couples with a scowl on his face, tapping his fingers so aggressively you fear for the survival of any crockery on the table. 

“I needed to check up on someone”, he tells you half apologetically. You follow his line of vision.  

Ah. 

Kuroo Tetsurou - Slytherin beater, top potions student, is seated cozily with Iwaizumi’s junior on the Gryffindor quidditch team. You heard of the infamous bet between them, you’re surprised if anyone in Hogwarts doesn’t know of it given the ruckus that followed when Kuroo swaggered up to the Gryffindor team to wager the fate of his hair for a date with their substitute chaser (the sole girl on the team).

“I see”, you murmur, twisting the lace napkin in your fingers. “I shouldn’t have assumed otherwise.”

Iwaizumi frowns, finally turning to look at you.   

“Huh? What d’you mean - I thought you wouldn’t mind since you’ve always been a good friend - ”

You catch a glimpse of a dark head of hair moving towards the door from the corner of your eye. 

“They’re leaving. You should follow them”, you interrupt his stuttering with a wide smile that hurts your cheeks. Iwaizumi halts his incoherent flurry of excuses, only sparing you a glance before grabbing the bill and dashing off in the general direction of Kuroo. 

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling. 

You should’ve known that he wouldn’t be interested in you. Not when he’s so painfully attractive (especially when Oikawa and/or the Slytherin team aren’t around to knit his brows into a frown), so much so that his bloody biceps have their own fanclub. Not when he’s so laser focused on quidditch and his studies and his teammates and his friends, running flying tutorials for the younger students, keeping Tanaka and Nishinoya and Hinata and Yaku from blowing up Gryffindor tower or running afoul of the professors.

It’s your fault for assuming, for hoping, for wishing that Iwaizumi Hajime, your housemate of 6 years, longtime charms partner and the boy you’ve harboured a huge crush on for the past year and a half - might return your feelings after all. 

You should have known. You’re not winsome. Why would you ever win him? 

Wishing otherwise only ruins the heart. 

So you trudge back to school alone in the snow, skirting past the Gryffindor team who seem to be in some sort of an uproar, only allowing yourself to cry when you’ve drawn the curtains on your four poster bed to make sure you’re alone. 

It is not terribly difficult to avoid Iwaizumi Hajime for the next couple of days, at least until charms class rolls around. You’ve sat next to him ever since you were both first years, when his voice hadn’t broken and you were still taller than him. That’s how your friendship blossomed, but you haven’t worked up the courage to face him just yet. 

So you choose to displace Daichi by stealing his usual seat next to Sugawara, pointedly ignoring the furrow in Iwaizumi’s brow and the confused looks he tosses at you until you flee back to your dorm after class. 

You’re being dramatic, you know. But you figure the best way of getting over Iwaizumi Hajime is to cut him out of your life, at least for now. 

“Yoohoo!” 

You turn to stare at Oikawa Tooru, captain of the Slytherin team, a classmate you’ve maybe exchanged less than ten words with in your entire Hogwarts career. 

He’s probably shouting at someone else. 

“Gryffindor-chan!” 

Nope. He’s definitely referring to you. 

You curse your parents for your laughably short legs when Oikawa effortlessly catches up to you in the hallway, pulling you into an empty classroom heedless to your protests. 

“I have a name, you know?” you snarl, snatching your wrist back. 

“You Gryffindors are always so fun to tease!” Oikawa lilts, head tilted to look down towards you. “Don’t be grumpy like Iwa-chan” - his eyes gleam when your lips tighten - “oh did I hit a nerve? Heard you’ve been ignoring him for a few days now.”

“It’s really none of your business”, you inform him pertly, inching towards the door. 

“No, it isn’t”, he agrees easily, with a smile you instantly distrust. “But I have a proposition for you.”

Curiosity kills Mrs Norris. It is no different for you. 

“What?” you ask, fingers already grasping your wand, ready to curse him at the first sign of trouble. “What do you want from me?”

“So prickly, just like Iwa-chan - no wonder you’re friends”, Oikawa teases, holding his hands up to placate you when you brandish your wand at him. 

“Speak or I’m leaving.”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh. You know - if you really wanted Iwa-chan’s attention, you should go on a date with me. That’ll show him.”

You stare at him. You’re not even aware that your jaw hangs open and your eyes bug out inelegantly. 

“What!” he cries, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart to get my best friend a girl he deserves.”

You gather yourself, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s in it for you?” 

“Well - you could sit on the Slytherin stands and cheer for my team, that’ll distract Iwa-chan to no end”

“Go to hell, Oikawa”, you tell him flatly. “Go to hell.”

You slam the door behind you. 

“Hey.” 

Iwaizumi Hajime springs to his feet the minute you step foot into the common room. You nod jerkily to acknowledge his greeting but you walk right past him, heading straight for the girls’ dorm. 

“Can we talk?” he calls after you when you’re already halfway up the flight of stairs. 

You pretend you don’t hear him. You think that should deter him, but Iwaizumi Hajime is persistence personified, so you really shouldn’t have been surprised when Akane Yamamoto comes barrelling into your room yelling that the Gryffindor quidditch team is determined to breach the centuries old magical barriers barring boys from entering the girls’ dorms. 

“What the hell is going on?” You hear Daichi thunder when you peer over the bannister. 

Yaku, Hinata, Tanaka, Yamamoto and Nishinoya are all dogpiled onto the staircase - now a steep slope, cheering Iwaizumi as he clambers on their backs, face set in determination. You giggle despite yourself as you watch Daichi flail in confusion when he notices his otherwise trustworthy vice captain in the thick of this mayhem. 

“IWAIZUMI!” 

“He’s boldly going where no man has gone before” Yaku tells Daichi approvingly from the bottom of the pile. 

“Charting new frontiers!” Hinata pipes up, though he immediately cringes when Daichi turns the full force of his glare on him. 

“To infinity and beyond!” Tanaka and Nishinoya whoop.  

“This has gone on ENOUGH!” Daichi roars, and the enchanted staircase clearly agrees with him, because with an echoing creak that eerily resembles a blech, the smooth wood of the slope ripples, rolling the entire Gryffindor quidditch team (sans Daichi, of course) into a pile on the common room floor. 

Even though the rest of his teammates are complaining laughingly and railing against the antiquated enchantments, Iwaizumi continues to stare stubbornly at you. 

It’s not over, his intense gaze promises you. 

You shake your head, heading back to the safety of your room. 

Your window rattles. The wind howls. 

You shrug it away as a particularly violent storm, burrowing deeper into your nest of blankets. 

Then you hear a loud crack. 

“We’re under attack!!!” you hear one of your roommates shriek before fleeing the room. 

The sorting hat must’ve made a mistake with her, you mutter under your breath, grabbing your wand before stomping towards the window. You yank the curtains back. 

Iwaizumi Hajime stares at you sheepishly through the glass, pebbles in hand, hanging on to his broomstick in the gale for dear life. 

“Are you crazy?” you shriek. “Have you lost your mind?” 

“You weren’t talking to me”, he mouths, forehead creased in frustration. “I want to know what’s wrong.” 

Never mind your other idiot roommates cooing in the background at how impossibly romantic the entire situation is. He’s never once looked at you with any ounce of romantic interest, which is fine, really, you’ll get over that, but he’s making it so much harder by badgering you incessantly. You want him to leave you the hell alone, so you can lick your wounds in peace and mope to your heart’s content. 

“Get lost!” 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

You’re about to rip your hair out from frustration. 

“Fine. Meet me in the common room then”, you mouth back, hands on hips, looking decidedly annoyed. Iwaizumi doesn’t even pretend to look fazed, grinning at you as he speeds off. 

You trudge down the staircase, waiting until he tumbles into the common room, broomstick still in hand. There are far too many eavesdropping ears in the common room, and you have no wish to embarrass yourself more than he has already, so you march him to his dorm. 

Daichi and Yaku watch with wide eyes as Iwaizumi meekly follows your order to strip off his wet robes and get into dry ones now - or serve him right for catching his death from a cold. Then with a sharp muffiliato, you draw the curtains, shielding yourself from any prying eyes.

“So.”

“What can I say to get you to leave. me. alone?” you ground out. 

“Why don’t you tell me why you want me to leave you alone”, Iwaizumi replies, painfully earnest as he inches closer towards you. “Cos to me it seemed to me you just got mad with me right after Hogsmeade and I really don’t know what I did wrong. And even though Shittykawa kind of told me I’m a fool for not knowing what happened - maybe you’d want to tell me yourself?” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong”, you inform the godzilla toy sitting on the bottom of the bed (courtesy of his muggle mother, he told you once). 

“Was it because I left you at Madam Puddifoot’s? I was worried about my teammate and thought Kuroo was up to no good, but it’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have left you to walk back alone.”

“It’s not that either”, you murmur, even though that memory stings. “It’s not you, Iwaizumi.” 

“Really? I’m having a hard time believing that given the lengths you’ve gone to avoid me.” 

“Really,” you emphasise, still refusing to meet his eyes. But you know he’s not convinced and you owe him an explanation, if only to get him off your back so you swallow nervously, take a deep breath and -  

“I just - I just really need to get over you.”

“Wha - What d’you mean, get over me? I don’t get it - ” 

Your temper flares up. 

Iwaizumi Hajime stares at you, open mouthed. You itch to reach out and shut his mouth for him, but you barrel on to the bitter end - 

“Do I have to spell out everything for you?” you snarl like a cornered animal, frantically gathering up the remnant shreds of your dignity to piece it together into a makeshift shield.

“I like you, okay? I like you, Iwaizumi Hajime, and I got so ridiculously excited when you asked me to Hogsmeade that I didn’t realise you were only asking me as a friend. “ 

“I’ve liked you for so long that I need time to get over you, okay? Can’t you even give me that?” 

The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop in the room. 

This is embarrassing, you think to yourself. This is embarrassing, and you shouldn’t need to put yourself through further humiliation by waiting for him to turn you down again. 

So you reach out to tug the curtains to make a hasty escape when Iwaizumi’s arm shoots out to grab your wrist. 

“I don’t want you to get over me.”

“What?” 

“I said, I don’t want you to get over me”, Iwaizumi mutters, his ears turning so red you’re surprised his hair hasn’t caught fire yet.  

“Why not?” It’s your turn to make him squirm. 

“Because I like you too, okay? I didn’t - I didn’t really figure it out until you stopped talking to me and I missed you so much I swear on Merlin’s balls I was willing to try even the stupidest suggestions from my idiot teammates - “ 

“I could tell”, you interject dryly and he chuckles, cheeks bright pink. 

“Daichi was not pleased, let me tell you that”, he admits with a twinkle in his usually serious eyes. 

“But it’s worth it. You’re worth every bit of it.”

“Really?” you breathe. “You really, really like me?”

“Really” he says firmly, lacing his fingers with yours. “I really, really like you.”

“We’re a pair of fools then”, you say and he laughs aloud, a glorious sound you’ll never grow sick of.

“You both really, really are”, Yaku calls from the other side of the room. 

You both stiffen. You don’t even realise your conversation has stretched long enough for your hastily cast muffiliato charm to wear off. Now you can even hear Daichi trying to shush his irrepressible teammate muttering about ungodly six am practices that he’s not going to get enough sleep for if his idiot vice captain doesn’t get his love life in order soon. 

“We’ll talk more tomorrow”, he whispers, breath warm against your cheek.

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow then”, you whisper back, your heart fluttering in your chest as he escorts you back to the foot of the staircase to the girls’ dorm, chivalrously refusing to turn away until you step into your room. 

You fall into bed, a giddy smile on your face. The foolish wish your heart made has come true. 

Previously: 

Miya Atsumu (Slytherin).~  Miya Osamu (Slytherin).~ Kita Shinsuke.  (Ravenclaw)~ Kuroo Tetsuro. (Slytherin) ~  Bokuto Koutarou. (Hufflepuff)~  Sakusa Kiyoomi. (Ravenclaw) ~

[goodqueenaly]

What myths and tales from the Shivering Sea do you think could be real?

Noting as an initial matter that we're speaking of a fantastical and fundamentally magical world, so what is "real" may be a very different discussion from what we consider "real" in our world. After all, shadowbinding is "real" on Terros in the sense that it can actually be performed, but is obviously not "real" in the sense of having a natural or scientific explanation we could recreate in our world. I'm approaching this, therefore, as "real" meaning "natural", caused by the phenomena of nature and not by magic or the supernatural.

(Also noting that I am not, so to speak, something of a scientist myself, so I have no education or professional background to comment on any of this.)

Sailors, by nature a gullible and superstitious lot, as fond of their fancies as singers, tell many tales of these frigid northern waters. They speak of queer lights shimmering in the sky, where the demon mother of the ice giants dances eternally through the night, seeking to lure men northward to their doom.

Yeah, this seems like the northern lights of Terros to me.

They whisper of Cannibal Bay, where ships enter at their peril only to find themselves trapped forever when the sea freezes hard behind them.

Perhaps the sailors here are describing the dangers of pack ice - sailing into what appears to be simply chunks or plates of free-floating ice, only to have unpredictable shifts in the ice plates (aided by sudden drops in temperature) come together to freeze solid around any ship unlucky enough to be in the area. Pack ice can trap and even destroy ships, and has done so throughout the history of maritime navigation; Henry Hudson's Discovery became trapped in pack ice over the winter of 1610-1611, and while the Discovery wasn't destroyed, the experience was so terrible for his crew that when Hudson planned to continue the expedition afterward the crew mutinied and marooned him. Famously as well, Ernest Shackleton's Endurance had to be abandoned in pack ice (and eventually sank because of it) during his 1915 Antarctic expedition; ironically, very recently a crew attempting to locate the sunken Endurance also found itself trapped in ice, at almost the exact same spot the Endurance was lost, when temperatures dropped suddenly and ice froze around the ship (though luckily the crew of that ship was able to free it).

They tell of pale blue mists that move across the waters, mists so cold that any ship they pass over is frozen instantly;

This report might be referencing the dangers of freezing ocean spray. In the right conditions - air sufficiently chilled below the freezing point of salt water, winds strong enough and waves high enough to drive up spray - normal ocean spray will freeze upon contact with a surface - like, say, any ship unfortunate enough to be in its way. This can happen very quickly, especially if the seas are rough, and the consequences can be deadly; the rapid buildup of ice can easily add a fatal amount of weight to a ship, causing it to list or even capsize. I read an account of a sailor in the Battle of the Atlantic during World War II who recalled a harrowing battle with what he referred to as the "white mist", which added tons of weight in ice to his ship and nearly caused it to sink.

of mermaids pale of flesh with black-scaled tails, far more malign than their sisters of the south.

If GRRM is drawing on the old idea of dugongs and manatees inspiring tales of mermaids, then maybe these "mermaids" are orcas. Orcas have white underbellies and black tails, and in our world are most commonly found in cold waters around the Arctic and Antarctic. Too, while far from common, orcas have been known to attack boats (sometimes out of stress or fear of the boat as a threat, sometimes just to be playful or curious). Likewise, while definitely rare, wild orcas have attacked humans, especially when mistaking humans for their typical prey; more to the point, perhaps, orcas are apex predators who are effective and deadly hunters of, among other animals, seals, sharks, and whales. Conflating these observations might have made sailors of Terros believe that Shivering Sea "mermaids" were vicious creatures who would attack anyone and anything (especially if these orcas had learned to fear whaling ships attacking them and/or fishing ships competing with them for food). (Admittedly, though this is at best a thin guess.)

Again, however, keep in mind that Terros is a supernatural world, so even trying to make natural sense of these phenomena may be missing the point. Those "drowned spirits who rise at night to drag the living down into the grey-green depths" sound more like wights operating in water (something Cotter Pyke seems to have affirmed can happen) or Deep Ones-esque creatures (widely speculated as real, if not seen on page yet) than anything I can think of on Earth. Likewise, ice dragons have no analogue in our world, although (non-ice) dragons were real creatures on Terros for millennia. Any of the above could have supernatural explanations that might make perfect sense in this world while being totally nonsensical in ours.

[goonification]

yungi smut

[18+] Mingi gets hard before stages and has no idea why. Neither does Yunho but he’s happy to help.

The fast-paced voice of a MC echoed through the hallways over a loudspeaker to introduce the lineup for the night’s show. No one was listening too carefully though to the tinny voice, as the livestream usually only acted as a reminder that, in the same building, the Music Bank stage was soon to be lively with performances for the next 90 minutes. It wasn’t uncommon for the muffled sounds of the host to be overshadowed by the busy chatter of stressed out staff and excited idols, donning various elaborate and colourful outfits. 

It was less than an hour until Ateez were supposed to be rounded up and ushered to the wings of the stage, prepared to give the nth performance of their most recent comeback.

While most idols we’re counting down the minutes to their upcoming stages, Mingi was rushing back to his group’s green room, hoping to god it was empty.

He scuttled through the crowds, politely bowing at passing staff and tucking behind ongoing interviews to not draw attention to himself. A lanky, 6ft man with a hand on his crotch lumbering through the background of someone’s acrostic poem segment would be bound to draw the wrong kind of online attention.

Hand grasping the doorknob of their assigned green room with relief, the sounds of the hallways were snuffed with the thick door shutting behind him. 

He gave the space a quick once-over, falling at ease when he found it seemingly empty. With the room barren of members or staff, Mingi pressed his back to the door as a makeshift lock and shamelessly dropped his pants below his waist.

This wasn’t an uncommon scenario.

There are plenty of different ways that the human body can react to a stressful situation. Some people overthink to the point of a headache. Others have physical reactions, like shaking or sweating. Some people even feel faint or collapse.

However, Song Mingi got boners. Plain and simple. He doesn’t know why it happens. Often, he doesn’t even know when it’ll happen. 

The regularity of stage fright had faded away to a fear of the past. With the exception of the occasional special stage, Mingi typically didn’t get stressed out over every individual performance but, for some godforsaken reason, his body seemed to know what a pre-show countdown sounded like and reacted regardless. 

Nervous or not, popping a semi backstage was a shamefully familiar feeling for Mingi. He was well aware that there had been a couple of fancams where his half-hard cock made far more of an appearance than he wanted and, determined to not repeat history if he could help it, intended to try de-escalating his problem before stepping foot on stage this time.

Mingi looked down at his dick, standing fully upright.

It was mocking him.

Frustrated at his situation, Mingi furrowed his brow, scowling at his penis before feeling grateful that no one saw him do that. Nothing like a healthy dose of random horniness to cloud every crevice of his brain with a layer of fog, stopping him from thinking rationally. 

He collected his composure with a deep breath, using his knees to pinning his pants at his mid-thigh in case someone entered unexpectedly, and got to work.

A large hand wrapped around the proportionately large shaft and began to pump, so quickly in fact that his whole body lurched forward at the sudden relief. It wasn’t long before his knees instinctively spread and baggy pants fell to his ankles. There was no use picking them back up. Not a minute could be wasted. The door behind him could open at any second. With his very noticeable presence missing, someone was bound to be looking for him to reunite him with his members.

Mingi didn’t know how much time he had. A few drops of spit and a dab of precum was all he could gather as lube, forcing him to slow down his pace to avoid discomfort. Mingi whined. He knew this wouldn’t take long at all if he was back in the dorms with his usual creamy lotion or the constant flow of a soapy shower to keep his length slick.

He could practically hear the threat of a ticking clock in his head. The bustling sounds of people on the other side of the door weren’t helping. The MC’s voice echoed again, saying something about a commercial break, probably the first of several. He was desperate to fix his problem fast and would need to try something different.

A shaky second hand joined the first, holding it steady as his hips took on the task instead. The closed tunnel of his fist stopped the air from drying away his precious moisture, allowing for a more comfortable friction than before.

“Ah-” Mingi couldn’t stop the escape of a single low moan as he fucked his hand, balls slapping against his curled fingers and stretched wrist with each thrust.

It felt good, definitely better. But he was still too distracted. While his new technique was undoubtedly more successful than the first, his brain was still going a mile a minute with the looming reminder of the risk he was taking. His hands were shaking, needing to readjust their grip every few seconds. 

Mingi didn’t want to cry; he had just had his makeup done. Yet, still, every shaky slip of his hands was contributing to a growing frustration. 

It was becoming more difficult to keep quiet. Mingi was being assaulted with the buildup of both dull pleasure and throbbing pain and needed some way to express it. Small grunts were turning into breathy moans, low and long, to try to keep the sounds contained in the room.

Suddenly, even through welling tears, his eyes caught sight of a slight movement caught in one of the dressing room mirrors. What Mingi assumed were just piles of jackets on a couch began to shift, before he noticed the pant legs of a stage outfit, matching the one Mingi was currently “wearing”, donned on a long set of legs. A pair of large boots stuck upright off the end of the couch.

“You’re terrible at staying quiet.” Yunho’s familiar voice spoke out from under the pile before he threw a heavy jacket off of his head, exposing his tired face in the reflection of the mirror. He was basically eye-level with Mingi’s cock.

“Ah, what the fuck!” Mingi shouted, trying and failing to pull up his pants. In that moment, he silently cursed the stylists for always putting him in the baggiest outfits. He repeated his expletive of choice. “What the fuck were you doing under there?”

Yunho squinted tightly, shaking his head as his eyesight adjusted to the harsh fluorescent light of the room. “I had a headache and couldn’t find the light switch.”

“Oh.” Mingi stood dumbfounded and beet-red. Yunho was as giant as he was and it wasn’t like he was exactly hidden. He mentally scolded himself for not checking the room better before fully exposing himself, accidentally baring his entire cock and balls to his friend.

“I knew you were horny earlier!” Yunho exclaimed, like it was his own personal victory for guessing correctly. “You were all bouncy and quiet during stage rehearsal. Kinda like before you take your extra long showers. Always before the stages too, huh? Why is that?”

Mingi shrugged. He didn’t know what to say. He especially didn’t know that Yunho was so attentive to his behaviour. It made him think back to every time he busted what he thought was a secret nut but maybe he wasn’t so private after all.

It was a lot of information to take in with his pants around his ankles. He had so many questions. Mingi started with an easy one. “Why didn’t you say anything when I came in here? I would’ve stopped.”

“Honestly, I thought you were here to get me.” Yunho was fixing his hair at the mirror, composing himself while stealing occasional glances of Mingi’s cock in the reflection. “At least, until I heard you all -” He mocked the deep timbre of Mingi’s voice and moaned comically. Painfully to Mingi, even the unflattering imitation made his exposed dick twitch. He hoped to god Yunho was too busy laughing at him to tell.

Noticing the shift in posture, Yunho offered some comfort, not wanting his friend to feel too embarrassed. “I didn’t mind. Really.”

“But why did you scare me like that?” Mingi’s embarrassment shifted to anger. Yunho’s logic wasn’t making any sense and Mingi still didn’t have a plan for how he was going to get his dick down.

Yunho avoided the question. “How long until we go on?”

“Huh?” Without context, the request went right over Mingi’s head.

“Fine, I’ll look for myself.” Yunho raised an eyebrow before checking a nearby phone. “Forty seven minutes until our stage? That’s tons of time.” 

The tension on Mingi’s face unwravled with a small ounce of relief. The events of what felt like hours of pure frustration likely took place over a mere thirty seconds. He just needed to be reminded.

Still, the reality was that Mingi was rock hard and not as alone as he thought. As one problem disappeared, another became even more prominent. Yunho made his way towards Mingi and the door, hopefully to leave the room, and pretend he saw nothing. 

Even in that best case scenario, Mingi wasn’t sure if he could ever recover from the mortification of what just happened.

Wanting to drop the hint and give Yunho better access to the door, Mingi shifted to the side, movement restricted from the pants still pooled around his legs and too ashamed to pick them up.

However, Yunho didn’t turn towards the door. He instead turned his attention towards Mingi, who had backed himself into a corner. They were uncomfortably close considering the fact that Mingi’s lower half was fully nude.

Yunho smiled stupidly as though the confusion on Mingi’s face was unwarranted. “What? You were struggling to get off, right?”

“Yes...” Mingi admitted, still confused over what exactly his friend was doing. “It was that obvious?”

“Believe me, I know what it sounds like when you’re getting off. What I just heard sounded like a struggle to me.” Yunho never broke eye contact with Mingi. There was a glint of joy in his eyes as he explained his thought process, while never actually revealing his intentions.

Everything he said only raised even more questions. So many that Mingi didn’t have the brain capacity to sort through. Right now, he was more curious why Yunho had him cornered in their dressing room. 

“Mingi,” Yunho uttered his name as though he was scolding him with endearment. Telling him off for being so apparently stupid even thought Mingi thought his confusion was very much justified. “Do you want me to help you?”

Yunho wanted to jerk him off? Mingi thought he had heard wrong.

On first thought, it would fix both problems at once and still leave time to spare, even if the idea of his friend touching his dick would leave Mingi with a whole new slew of questions to plague him until they got back to their dorms. That is, if Yunho would even want to talk about it.

Mingi was getting ahead of himself. He needed to answer the question first.

He kept thinking, pushing through his stress and arousal to conduct a clear thought. Yunho was handsome. He was always clean and smelled good, and liked holding hands with Mingi. Though his qualifications were sparse, Mingi was almost surprised at just how unopposed he was to the idea of Yunho helping him cum. After all, that’s all it would be, right? A friend helping out a friend.

“C’mon, you’ll feel so much better afterwards. I don’t like seeing you in pain.” Yunho pouted as he got closer to Mingi’s face. He was being sweet. Buttering the other boy up without knowing that it wouldn’t even take any convincing to get him to agree.

If only Mingi could answer the damn question. All he could muster up was the confidence for a moment of warm eye contact and a gentle nod.

It was signal enough for Yunho, who leaned in for a hesitant kiss. Mingi’s puffy lips were already parted and set to lock with his own. As they brushed against each other, Yunho’s tongue peaked out, sliding over Mingi’s bottom lip and making him shudder before dipping inside his gaped mouth. 

The gap between them closed even further when the fabric of Yunho’s pant leg accidentally brushed over Mingi’s hard cock, which was poking out and occupying most of the space between them. Mingi moaned into Yunho’s mouth, a gentle reminder that they had a goal to achieve.

“Mmm. No more,” Yunho sighed with regret. He pulled back as Mingi stupidly chased his lips in a daze. “We need to be quick, remember?” 

“But you don’t need to see your hands to jerk me off.” Mingi pouted comically, trying to convince him to return to their greedy kiss. He didn’t expect to enjoy kissing Yunho that much and was wondering if it could turn into a hobby of theirs.

Yunho simply chuckled, obviously knowing more than Mingi about his plans for his mouth. After a breathy “huh?” Yunho took the cue to drop to the floor.

Mingi froze. He was expecting a steady hand to help jerk him to completion at the most but this was so much more. The sight of Yunho on his knees, locked upright so he could keep his face raised inches from Mingi’s cock was making his head throb in more ways than one.

He watched as Yunho’s eyes darted around, carefully examining every inch of him as fast as possible. If he knew Yunho was going to be that close and personal with his junk, Mingi would have shaved that morning. 

“I knew you were big but, damn.” Yunho’s vision stayed locked on to Mingi’s shaft. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted. He looked just as needy as he felt.

“I mean, you don’t have to go d-” Mingi couldn’t even provide an alternative, let alone finish his sentence before Yunho’s tongue was curling itself around his head, soaking his cock with a sudden warmth. Mingi’s hand flew to the wall, then his thigh and, finally, Yunho's hair, needing to grab a fistful of something to keep him steady.

Yunho tilted his chin, relaxing into Mingi’s touch and exposing the length of his neck towards the ceiling. Still, he stayed connected via his tongue. Mingi gulped loudly at the sight of Yunho’s throat swallowing, which was suddenly looking very empty to him.

The soft stimulation prompted beads of creamy white to escape from Mingi’s cock, directly onto the flat surface of Yunho’s tongue. He moaned at the taste and vibrations surrounded Mingi’s stirring cock head. Embarrassingly and against his will, Mingi pushed forward a bit, cock sliding across Yunho’s tongue and spreading the pre-cum all over the wet muscle.

“Sorry.” Mingi sheepishly apologized as he returned his hips to where they were before but, to his surprise, Yunho bobbed his head. He artificially repeated the motion over and over until the entirety of the cock’s head was trapped inside Yunho’s mouth. His tongue was running indulgent laps as it circled the pulsing tip.

Mingi was a panting mess. He wasn’t sure if he should speak. Should he tell Yunho how it felt? Would that be too much?

It was then that Yunho’s gaze flickered up to make eye contact with Mingi. His eyes were glossy as though he was stuck in that moment. Mingi’s stomach did a flip at the sight. He was waiting for Mingi’s approval.

“It feels good, you know?” Mingi whispered as the fist in Yunho’s hair released to scratch at his scalp. Mingi didn’t exactly sound confident but Yunho could tell the words were genuine considering how the other boy was falling apart above him. The upper half of Yunho’s face lit up with a would-be smile at the praise.

Meanwhile, his mouth stayed open wide, lips surrounding Mingi’s cock with a gentle suction, before pushing forward slowly. Yunho didn’t look away, not even once, as Mingi watched his cock disappear inch by inch inside his friend's mouth.

“Jesus, Yunho...” He hissed as more of his shaft was coated with the slippery friction from Yunho’s spit.

Yunho was only two inches from fully swallowing Mingi’s cock before he came to a halt. As he paused, he shifted with discomfort on his knees. The breathing from his nose became more erratic, puffs of warm air bouncing off of Mingi’s pelvis. It was clear he had reached his limit. Even while he couldn’t get Mingi’s dick all the way down, his determination was admirable. Cute, even. It was especially impressive considering Mingi presumed it was Yunho’s first time doing this. 

Mingi dropped his hand to fall behind Yunho’s ear, rubbing his neck with a long thumb. Not experienced with dominant dirty talk, he merely offered a simple smile to let him know it was okay to retreat.

When Yunho began to pull back, Mingi caught sight of a bulge in his throat deflating as his dick reappeared. The thought of being that deep inside any of Yunho’s holes made him shudder with excitement.

Less than a second of the cold dressing room air had cruelly returned before Mingi’s dick was throbbing with need again. The shaft was a reddened, slobbery mess as Yunho cupped him against his hands before returning his mouth to the leaking tip.

Now, when Yunho bobbed down on the cock, his movements were more confident, knowing his limits and puffing up with pride over his abilities. Once he reached the checkpoint, he twisted two slippery hands over the base to make up the difference, fully covering Mingi’s large cock in one way or another.

This time, when Yunho pulled back, he tried sucking in his cheeks. He was so concentrated on making Mingi feel good, eyebrows furrowed in a way Mingi would’ve thought was adorable had the air not been just knocked out of his lungs by the new sensation of suction inside Yunho’s mouth.

Yunho never let the tip leave his lips before taking the entire shaft deep into his mouth again, producing extra spit only to suck it up again when he pulled back. It was clear he was enjoying himself discovering his newfound talent. 

Not as much as Mingi was enjoying himself.

The feeling was unlike anything Mingi had ever experienced. Yunho’s mouth was like being surrounded by an always-moving, sopping-wet warmth. The boy on his knees took the term ‘sucking’ dick very literally. Wet and sloppy sounds echoed through the tiny room as Yunho slurped at his cock. 

Mingi was fully collapsed against the wall at this point, fighting gravity to keep himself standing. His moans were deep, guttural and spurring Yunho to move even faster, knowing that Mingi must be close. 

He was. Mingi was seconds away from cumming and already panicking over where he was going to finish. As pretty as he would be covered in streaks of white, Yunho was already in his stage clothes and makeup, ruling out that option. Alternatively, it wasn’t like Mingi could just leave a puddle of his release on the green room floor. The clock was ticking and Mingi didn’t have any alternatives left.

Yunho, more intuitive than Mingi was aware of, must’ve sensed his panic. He looked up at Mingi as though he was trying to tell him something, eventually slowing his neck’s momentum to a standstill and grabbed his attention.

As Mingi’s eyes were full of panic, Yunho eased his fears with a small nod of approval, motions mostly restricted by his throat accommodating the deep curve of Mingi’s cock. Yunho’s eyes were glistening with tears but dark with determination. He was ready to let Mingi take over.

Mingi whimpered, clawing at the wall as he realized what Yunho was telling him. 

“In your mouth? Are you sure?”

A gurgle escaped from the back of Yunho’s throat as he pushed his limits even further, allowing the cock to sit the deepest it had been. Despite his gagging, his actions were entirely permissive, knowing he wouldn’t have to endure the pain for long before Mingi would finish.

Dormant hips sprung into motion, sliding back at first and dragging his cock along the inside of Yunho’s mouth. Strings of thick saliva followed the path, dripping from Yunho’s bruised lips. Carelessly, Mingi’s ass hit the wall with a thud with how roughly he fucked backwards, making Yunho wince in preparation for him to return.

When his hips snapped forward, it wasn’t as bad as Yunho expected. Sure, Mingi was rough in his desperation but the slickness of collected spit gave the cock a smooth re-entrance past Yunho’s lips, into his mouth, and down into his raw throat. Yunho couldn’t help but moan as he felt himself loosen up to accommodate, hoping that the sound got concealed beneath the low sounds of Mingi’s own pleasure.

Mingi fucked his willing mouth again and again, inching just a little deeper each time whether he knew it or not.

“Yunho. Feels good.” Mingi grunted out, unable to conceive proper sentences as his vision was flashing white with fast growing pleasure. “So good. Fuck.”

With the added motion of Mingi’s thrusts, those final two inches that he couldn’t quite conquer seemed like a task from forever ago, Yunho’s throat gladly opening itself up to accommodate until Mingi’s cock was buried completely. It wasn’t long until his nose was bumping against a set of abs.

Ready to be emptied, Mingi’s heavy balls smacked against Yunho’s chin with each greedy snap of his hips. It should’ve been humiliating but Yunho found himself arching into the motions. It felt good to have Mingi use him.

Yunho kept his needy gaze up at Mingi, watching the way his mouth fell agape and the muscles in his jaw clenched. His chest was heaving as he got closer and closer to completion. The sight inspired Yunho to work through the increasing soreness to help Mingi succumb to his pleasure.

“Ah!” Mingi yelled loudly and abruptly, followed by several softer stutters. His hips suddenly began to jerk in a rhythmless pattern he couldn’t quite control and then the first hot spurt of cum splashed against the back of Yunho’s throat. The second erupted into the cavern of his mouth as Mingi fell back further, shaking with pleasure.

Yunho hollowed his cheeks, not allowing Mingi to retreat any more and trapping the twitching cock inside his mouth. He sucked deeply and used the rest of his energy to relax the entire length of his throat and milk Mingi’s shaft until he was empty.

Mingi’s head fell back in awe as Yunho’s tongue lapped every last drop of cum that emerged from the hole on his tip. He was going above and beyond at this point, the aftershocks of Mingi’s orgasm already starting to subside.

“You can stop if you want.” Mingi’s voice was shaky, hoping Yunho wouldn’t take him up on the offer. The gentle warmth felt nice against his softening cock, easing him back to reality gradually instead of all at once.

“Mm, I probably should, shouldn’t I?” Yunho croaked out against his dick, giving the tip one final kiss before letting it fall limp against Mingi’s thigh.

They paused for a brief moment to catch their breath. Mingi dropped a hand to Yunho’s shoulder, giving it a soft massage as a thanks. “Are you okay?” 

Yunho tried to answer but, at first, the words got caught on their way out. Clearing his throat, Yunho choked out a laugh at the discovery of how raw his throat was. “It’s a good thing I didn’t plan to sing live tonight.”

Mingi giggled at the half-joke before yanking up his oversized pants, needing both hands to hold the flowy fabric up so they wouldn’t fall again. Kindly, Yunho helped him tuck the now satisfied cock away before zipping up his fly.

“You know you might have less of a problem if you just wore underwear?” Yunho poked roughly at the downsized but still prominent bulge in Mingi’s pants.

“But it’s uncomfy.” Mingi whined, clearly more willing to go the lengths of jerking off before a performance rather than just wear another layer. Tired and needing to conserve his energy, Yunho rolled his eyes and found another spare phone to check the time. He clicked on the homescreen with little care for the fact that one of their fellow member’s phones was currently being contaminated with Mingi’s dick particles.

“Was that really only ten minutes?” Yunho’s eyes widened at the screen and Mingi went red in the cheeks. “Guess I’m pretty good at that, huh?”

“Yeah. You could say that…” Mingi nodded, getting shy again as the realization set in that his best friend’s lips were just around his cock and they were already back to business as usual. That is, if they didn’t count how disheveled they both looked from the aftermath. Mingi ruffled his hair back to look as close as possible to how the stylists left it.

Not having too much time to dwell on what their new experience meant for their friendship, a loud knock on the door made both boys jump out of their skin. The knock was only a warning as the hinges creaked and the door swung wide, trapping Mingi behind it.

Panicked and then relieved, Mingi stumbled against a plastic knob on the wall, the room falling into darkness just in time for someone to enter the doorway.

“Yunho, are you in here?” Hongjoong’s voice carried through the small room until he saw Yunho by the mirror, hopefully only looking like he woke up from the best nap of his life and nothing else. Definitely nothing else…

“Hey, what are you doing in the dark?”  Luckily, he couldn’t see Mingi. His voice continued. “And why are you on my phone?”

Mingi cringed when Hongjoong snatched the phone back and placed it on the counter. He thankfully had no idea where Yunho’s hands had just been and he would probably never find out.

“Just checking the time.” Yunho replied nonchalantly, rubbing at his jaw.

“Yes, we’re on soon!” Hongjoong sounded excited. Enthusiastic about even the task of coraling up his fellow members for their performance. He seemed too distracted to notice Yunho dabbing away at his lips to clean himself off.

He patted Yunho on the back for encouragement before turning to leave out the open door. “Can you find Mingi on your way back too? We don’t know where he is.”

“Sure thing, Hyung!” Yunho did a goofy salute, playing the clueless role with ease as he bid Hongjoong farewell out of the room. The door slammed shut, leaving both Yunho and Mingi in the pitch dark.

“Hey Yunho,” Mingi whispered loudly, as though the darkness would make it harder to hear.

“Hm?” Yunho’s boots squeaked as he turned to face the voice.

“I think I found the light switch.”

.

.

.

[bitty-bits]

Back In Action

DALL-E 2 Background (Prompt: Dreamy background painting with a checkered pattern grass and blue mountains in the distance), Emojis made for the SineTri Discord. Join us!

After a few months, I'm finally back doing this thing.

I'm back here probably cuz I do have a lot more to say than last time. Tumblr's embeds of posts don't seem to be very good, I've noticed. Oh well. Again you'll likely see me on that dreaded hellsite a lot more than here, but I'll still try to write here to maintain a tradition, and hopefully I won't be gone for too long again. Anyways here's what I've been doing lately.

New Computer

Yeah!

Without giving away too much details as for how this happened, I indeed have a new computer (notebook, specifically, as I've been used to the form factor my whole life, probably) and probably the first time it is almost on par with the latest high end specs, and, no memes, it has an RTX graphics card. What else can I say about it... well, using it so far has been a positive experience for the most part, my only complaint would be how "not good" the trackpad is. Cuz you know, I actually got used to drawing with the trackpad (believe it or not) on my previous notebook, which is still a pretty good notebook that still works and can still do a lot (I was able to play and beat Super Mario 3D World emulated on it at almost full speed, so I think that says something) so I hope whoever uses it next makes a good use out of it. I'd say outside of being "mid" (that's the Funny Word Them Kid's These Dayz R Usein' Right) its only problem is its battery doesn't really work anymore so it'll only work while plugged in, which is probably completely my fault, so I'm hoping to avoid this issue on the new computer. (Tip: There's an useful VBScript you can get and put it on Windows' "startup programs" folder that will show a message whenever your battery is close to 100% charge. Google it!)

Trackpad issues aside, I still have a standard optical mouse to use, but even then, It's still gonna take getting used to... using one again. I'm weird.

Cut it Out, Ninjin! - Preservation Efforts (Post-Warner Bros. Discovery Fiasco Update)

With all the clownery going down lately with the Warner Bros. + Discovery merger, the Ninjin cartoon series (my biggest "brainrot" of the year pretty much) unfortunately also fell victim to the "great cartoon purge" that happened as a result of WBD's terrible (and inefficient) cost cutting decisions. Fortunately, the timing for me to get into this series couldn't have been better, and at least the show staff got to finish a season right before the shitstorm, so finished material didn't go unreleased. That said we can only hope the series somehow makes a comeback or is revived in some form, as at least Warner doesn't own the Ninjin IP (as far as I'm aware).

With the series gone from HBO Max, YouTube and all of Cartoon Network itself (though not without a few exceptions still left here and there), it's important to remember that preservation is a must, and something to keep in mind from start to end in any project. Here's what a staff member at Birdo studio had to say on the matter (Portuguese):

for those who work on animated shows, for the love of god, don't forget to always keep a copy of the final versions of your scenes/episodes downloaded (and if you're the director, back up the entire series) cuz if we just rely on the son of a bitch companies and channels everything will be gone then we won't even be able to assemble an animation reel / portfolio afterwards

As I have shared in the first blog post, I have made an archive of pretty much all the CN Ninjin content that I could find, on a MEGA folder, which I've recently updated in light of the unfortunate news - Every episode is now available as MKV (Matroska Video) files with multiple audio channels (Original Portuguese, as well as the Spanish and English dubs!) which I plan to later still update to have English fansubs done by yours truly (So you don't have to stick to the... not very amazing English dub), you will also find the shorts (which I've already given subtitles!) and some comics too, which I still gotta translate.

I'll also make extra links for easier sharing soon.

We can't let the big corporations win again as they usually do.

You can buy Ninjin: Clash of Carrots (the game the series was based on!) on Steam here, and Pocket Trap's latest game, Dodgeball Academia, here!

Let's try to keep Ninjin alive. Please.

Do it for her.

Calimero Subtitles Project Returns

After staying stagnant for at least 2 years, interest in subtitling Calimero's 1992 anime by Toei Animation (easily my favorite Calimero-related media) ressurged. Likely due to me... having figured out what an MKV file even is and what it can have, as well as coming across what is now my favorite software for subtitle making in general, SubtitleEdit (Not very creative, I know), and learning about the more advanced, fancy subtitle formats a good chunk of anime (fan)subs use. Also the project expanded a little; it's gonna be more than just the subtitles over a single specific dub of the anime, actually it'll have most of the dubs ever made of the show that can be found. A lot of audio tracks in still considerably small files! I sure do love me some Matroska files. The current plan is for me to subtitle the first half of the series (26 episodes, "season 1", if you will) all by myself, while the second half is a bit tricky, as only the German, Italian and Arabic dubs have the entire series found. But I already have a German friend willing to help with those, and there are also a couple episodes from the second half in the original Japanese version found, so if you're fluent in any of these languages and are interested in helping out, feel free to tell me! Once the project is finished we will finally have one convenient place to watch this series, in a variety of language dubs, and English subs, and hopefully more people in the West will acquire interest for it.

My Channel for posting Video Game Music, CalimeroVGM on YouTube

Not "high quality rips" in the SiivaGunner sense, but actual VGM that either can't be found on YouTube elsewhere, or if it can be, the quality kinda sucks, or it's in a video with other tracks. I may have done a lot for SiivaGunner, and continue to do "high quality ripping" over on my music channel (ples suscribe), but I also have been contributing a lot to actual ripping and video game music preservation in general, and decided to make a channel dedicated to it (here), so I don't have to pollute my channel of miscellaneous whatevers, Lu9.2, which is already kind of polluted. So whenever I have any new rips, or even a few "experiments" with VGM, I'll put it on this relatively new channel. I encourage you to subscribe to it at least so I can get to 100 and get a custom URL, because I just am the weird kinda guy who likes neat looking URLs.

What I've Been Playing / Watching

Just in case people would want to know, I'd probably talk about it on Twitter anyways, but let's go:

Klonoa Phantasy Reverie Series

I love Klonoa. Babe, GIVE me Klonoa. Played the first game (original PS1 version) back in either 2015 or 2016, though I was already a fan for longer, but loved it. The remastered version is very charming and combines the best of both the original colorful PS1 version and the Wii remake. And with this I was finally able to experience the sequel for the first time, and again, a masterpiece. Wish they kept some of the classic UI for the first game and other minor details, but that aside, this collection needs to succeed. This franchise needs to succeed.

Lucky Star

After giving up on watching it in 2015 (I was watching the English dub and didn't know what type of anime I was even expecting, Oops) I decide to give this another shot, this time subbed. What I can say is - I enjoy. It's fun. I guess my tastes have changed over the years too.

More Stuff

Moving (Again)

Seems like I do that a lot, but hopefully it'll actually stick now. Some unexpected problems rose in the current apartment I'm in. Nothing too serious (though it's only a matter of time) but the new place will be pretty big I think. I just hope I don't lose anything during the moving process again.

Fonts For Fun

Sometimes I also try my hand at typography, mostly recreating stuff I see, and this year I've made a few (and posted some older ones I had) fonts just for the fun of it (though they probably are useful)

You can check them out here.

Where's Part 3 Of Closing Logos Extended By Jukebox AI?

Not too long ago after releasing Part 2 of my intriguing Jukebox AI series, already some of the more "peculiar" logo-obsessed (presumably) children started to "predict" Part 3, some eben by just posting what will be on Part 3, conjuring up facts, classic Greeny Phatom style. Told that guy to wait until August.

...and I really wish I could keep such promises but I really just don't find the time and energy to put into those videos, not to mention the upsampling process that I still have to put some of the samples through. Though it's less time consuming now, there's still the entire editing and visuals part. I'm doing these videos completely for free, you know. Unless you're fine with something half-baked, be patient.

Also there will be more Jukebox AI videos in general, not just the logo ones, I hope you look forward to those too.

Donald Alves' Original Flash Website Is Now A Progressive Web App

Yeah. Did this just for fun. And to see what kind of stuff I can do with PWA features in general. It's still not a full "installable" web app, but it should work as its own thing on your phone no problem. Don't know who Donald Alves is? Well, this is one of those things that you just had to be there at the time, dude.

Conclusion

That was a big one! Hopefully next post will come before Christmas. Maybe before Brazil's presidential elections too... oh god I'm scared

Bitty's Message of the Day

I do not like beans.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 25, part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Holy crap, Episode 25! We’re halfway through! *Cue Bon Jovi*

Hunt Invitation

After taking a nice long break to watch Word of Honor pick lotus pods, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli return to stressing over the shitshow that is the post-Sunshot cultivation world. Jin Zixuan has come to invite them to the Phoenix Mountain Hunt, with a special invitation from his mother to Jiang Yanli. Jiang Cheng reacts to this in a mature and reasonable manner, while Wei Wuxian...doesn't.

On the surface, Jiang Cheng has matured in recent months; much more than Wei Wuxian, with his secret burdens, has. But it's only on the surface, as we'll see later in the episode, when Jiang Cheng's insecurity will take the reins.

Jin Zixuan is adorably pleased by Jiang Yanli's acceptance of the invitation. Wei Wuxian is less pleased, but sort of tries to suck it up. 

Jin Zixuan kind of undercuts the romance of his errand by asking Wei Wuxian for the Yin tiger amulet as soon as Jiang Yanli is out of earshot. 

As always, Jin Zixuan makes an impression by being the best Jin currently in existence, but the Jins are terrible. JZX is working to advance his dad's ambitions, and as such he is currently Wei Wuxian's enemy.  

(more after the cut)

Opening Ceremonies

There's a bunch of cultivators arranged for the opening ceremony. Later someone will say that this is more than 5 thousand people. Ok, sure.

As I've said before, it's best to think of it like a theatre production and assume the other 4,900 people are offstage or, you know, painted on the backdrop.  

The young lead cultivators from the four main clans are standing together. Nie Huaisang is trying out some new body armor.

The clan leaders are seated up on the stage, along with Jin Furen and Jiang Yanli. Unfortunately Jin Furen doesn't seem to have a personal name that I can discover. Her title Fūrén ( 夫人)  means she's the primary wife of the head of the family, according to this excellent meta. 

So “Madame Jin” is a decent translation...if you're French?  I feel like instead of English subtitles including borrowed words from French (”Marquis” in NIH), Greek (”Water of Lethe” in WOH), and other European languages, we could try borrowing Chinese words instead. Jin Zixuan's mom is titled, not named, Jin Furen. Since we don’t know her actual name, I'll call her that and abbreviate it JFR.

Wei Wuxian's childishness continues at the opening of the hunt, as does Jiang Yanli's encouragement of his childishness. I know she's had a rough couple of years, and it's understandable to want to baby her little brother out of a sense of nostalgia. But it's not good for him, and she shouldn't do it; she should encourage him to be more mature, just as she does with Jiang Cheng.

War Crimes Contest

Jin Guangyao says they're going to have an archery competition, and they're going to liven it up by endangering some prisoners. These prisoners are Wens in Wen cultivator uniforms, meaning they're not the noncombatants that were being hunted down earlier. But they’re still helpless people in chains. 

There are three different reactions when the Wen prisoners are brought out.  All the Jins are pleased, or neutral. All of the Jiangs, including Wei Wuxian, are upset.

The Nies and the Lans, what we see of them, are a little shocked, but not obviously upset. Based on those reactions, it seems like this is a maneuver that in-world is considered shocking and cruel, but not necessarily unethical or immoral.  Shocking, cruel displays of power are pretty normal in this world; remember when Wen Chao lit a Lan cultivator on fire just to say hello, and nobody complained? 

This whole scenario, of course, has been designed to provoke Wei Wuxian. One major goal of this event, and the whole reason for wanting Wei Wuxian to come,  is to get the Yin Tiger amulet.  Making him lose his shit in front of 100 5000 cultivators is a good step toward compelling him to hand the amulet over.  

We see Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli both signaling Wei Wuxian to keep it together, and he takes a step back and tries to chill.  

Meanwhile, Jin Zixuan seems annoyed by all this, and goes to take a shot at it, making it clear from his demeanor that this is easy and JGY is making a show of nothing. 

He hovers in the air and makes a perfect shot, pleasing most of the crowd and impressing Jiang Yanli. 

Then his cousin Jin Zixun taunts the crowd, challenging anyone to do better.  This presents a bit of a problem for Wei Wuxian. For the sake of the Wen prisoners, Wei Wuxian should just take this taunting and let the contest end, if no-one else is willing to take a shot. But for the sake of the Jiang Clan’s status, and his continued control of the Yin Tiger amulet, he needs to put the Jins in their place.  

Every Day is Blindfold Day

This moral dilemma is resolved with an abrupt tonal shift, where the humanitarian concerns of all parties seem to vanish. Wei Wuxian flirts embarrassingly with Lan Wangji and then goes as far over the top in besting Jin Zixuan as it's possible to go.

The flirting hits differently, incidentally, when you edit Jiang Cheng's annoyed reaction out of it: 

Lan Wangji doesn't seem embarrassed by Wei Wuxian's request, despite it happening in front of 100 5000 of their fellow cultivators. He looks Wei Wuxian straight in the eye for longer than necessary before turning away; it’s not exactly stern disapproval. We’ll get very used to this look, in Wei Wuxian’s second life. 

Fortunately, Wei Wuxian carries a blindfold with him wherever he goes, (gifset here), and he is such a good cultivator he can hit 5 parallel targets simultaneously without even holding his bow straight or tightening the string.

(OP fixed the angle of the bow for this gif, which is why everyone is standing on a hill in the background).

Everyone is pleased by this shot except Jins Guangyao and Zixun; even the Jin cultivators are clapping, and Madame Jin is presumably this happy any time Jin Guangyao’s plans go wrong.

With that they start the hunt. Jin Zixun challenges Wei Wuxian to do the whole hunt blindfolded. Wei Wuxian agrees, but the censorship committee said no, apparently, so we don’t get to see that.

Flute Hunting

We do get to see Wei Wuxian luring monsters into his nets by being too sexy for his robe, too sexy for his robe, and playing the flute.  

We also get to see Jiang cultivators looking puzzled while random monster roars happen in the woods around them. We do not get to see any monsters, which is probably just as well.

Jiang Cheng is annoyed and concerned, muttering "I told you not to overdo it" which means he didn't, you know, tell Wei Wuxian NOT to do this, just not to do it quite so well. Jiang Cheng knows what Wei Wuxian’s abilities are and he is making use of him, as he should, but he doesn’t have the courage of his convictions. 

Tree Confession

Wei Wuxian sees Lan Wangji and starts to say hi, but then he has a desaturated flashback to Lan Xichen telling him to back off, so he stops himself.  But then Lan Wangji comes over to talk to him.

Lan Wangji starts off talking to him about his latest anti-resentment musical discoveries, and Wei Wuxian pushes back, even calling him Lan Wangji, but gently.  Wei Wuxian asks "who am I to you?" and Lan Wangji turns the question right back at him, then waits a looooooong time, eyes downcast, while Wei Wuxian thinks of a serious answer.

Wei Wuxian says "I used to treat you as my zhījǐ" --which, as we’ve discussed before, is variously translated soulmate, confidant, intimate friend--with a strong meaning of "the person who truly knows me." Lan Wangji says "I still am." Coming from Lan Wangji, who NEVER says how he feels about Wei Wuxian or about anything, really, this sounds a lot like a confession of love. 

It definitely takes the form, visually, of a love confession, as Lan Wangji speaks, then gazes at Wei Wuxian while he waits for a reply.  Wei Wuxian's reply is this:

I don't think Wei Wuxian is oblivious (I'm speaking strictly of CQL, not MZDS, as always with these posts; they are different works). I think he loves Lan Wangji back, and knows it. But Chenqing and everything it represents are between them.

Lan Wangji is quite literally NOT his zhījǐ any more, because he doesn't truly know Wei Wuxian right now. He loves him desperately, but he doesn't know about his core, and hasn't accepted his cultivation method.  So Wei Wuxian answers his confession by showing him Chenqing, effectively declining to accept his still-conditional love.

Snake Measuring

Next we get terrible hetero courtship in the form of Jin Zixuan finding snake discharge on the ground and talking to Jiang Yanli about comparative snake measuring. Seriously: that is the actual conversation that they are having.

Jin Zixuan boasts for a bit, and then awkwardly tries to ask Jiang Yanli on a date. When she turns him down he gets mad, because he's a typical heterosexual dude even though he's secretly a delightful person...very, very secretly. Jiang Yanli, for her part, can't string a fucking sentence together to save her life whenever he's around, so she's not helping their mutual understanding. 

Lan Wangji attempts to hold Wei Wuxian back from beating Jin Zixuan’s ass yet again, but eventually JYL wants to leave, JZX tells her to wait, and WWX intervenes. Why doesn't Jiang Yanli have a maid or Jiang cultivator with her while she's on a date, incidentally? These kids are confused about whether they're doing feudal patriarchy or whether they're doing modern social life.

Jin vs. Jiang

Wei Wuxian jumps in between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, which JZX objects to. Jin Zixuan has no fucking business objecting and Wei Wuxian is 100% right, at this point. As soon as WWX shows up JZX should hand her off to her Shidi, bow, and leave her the fuck alone. Instead, he draws his sword on Wei Wuxian, and kind of on Jiang Yanli since she's right behind Wei Wuxian.  Fortunately, Lan Wangji blocks him. 

This instantly blows up into a Jiang-Jin Clan conflict, with Jiang Cheng unfortunately absent since he let his unmarried sister go off in the woods alone with the son of the Cultivaton world's most famous lecher. It looks like it’s a personal conflict, but since Jin Zixuan already told Wei Wuxian directly that Jin Guangshan wants his amulet, any arguments between them are part of a larger power struggle. 

Cousin Jin Zixun comes running up to start shit. Wei Wuxian pretends--I am SURE he's pretending--not to know who he is. The dude hassles Wei Wuxian every time he sees him; Wei Wuxian is a troll, and right now CJXZ is butting in to something that doesn't concern him. Rather than argue, Wei Wuxian insults him by telling him he’s not memorable.

Jin Furen shows up with several maids and cultivator dudes in tow, which is the proper way for a highborn woman to wander around in the woods. She also brings Clan Leader Yao, because if it's Wei Wuxian Blaming Hours, Yao is going to be there.  

I initially found the deep friendship between superhot Yi Zuyuan and dumpy Jin Furen implausible, but then I remembered that my lifelong bestie is a smokin' hot redhead with impeccable fashion sense, while I am a roly-poly nerd.  Friends don’t always match. Also, Jin Furen's actress, Hu Xiaoting, looks like this: 

...so she is actually hot in real life. Not as hot as Zhang Jingtong (who plays Yu Ziyuan) but literally nobody is as hot as Zhang Jingtong. Don't @ me, you know I'm right.

This is a heck of a long scene, so we’ll pick it up in part two! 

Soundtrack: Livin’ on a Prayer by Bon Jovi

Writing prompt: Newly-divorced, cold-hearted CEO Yu Ziyuan buys an apartment next door to newly-divorced, warm-hearted pastry chef ...uhh let's call her Jin Dàngāo (蛋糕), sure. She can name her business after herself. 

They discover their daughter & son are in the same college class, and so they meet up over coffee....several times...trying to matchmake their hopeless, hapless kids, while bonding over their own terrible (former) taste in husbands. Who will Cupid strike first, the kids or the moms?

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x12 Review

Second Chances was a lacklustre finale for an uneven season. Let’s dig in!

Earlier this week I re-watched S1 in preparation for the S2 finale and the contrast between the two seasons is jarring. In almost every way S2 has been worse and after seeing this finale I’m less optimistic that Tim will be able to fix the long list of things that have gone wrong. Tim has said in some of his interviews today that pretty much all of S2 was written before the pandemic and that they didn’t have to do as much re-writing as people might think due to the stringent safety measures Disney put in place. Of course, that removes an excuse for the bad writing we’ve seen so much of this season as according to Tim what we saw of S2 is largely what he envisioned minus big crowds and background dancers.

 Across his many interviews today, the one consistent point is that Tim does not have any real plans for future seasons; things like Ricky’s endgame he hasn’t decided on and he can’t even guarantee the summer season the finale sets up due to the weather in Salt Lake. I do think a S3 is an almost certainty given the show’s popularity but I’ll take Tim at his word that he truly doesn’t know if they’ll be renewed since it seems to be a new Disney tradition to wait until seasons are done airing before making a renewal decision (the same thing happened for the popular and well received Mighty Ducks: Game Changers which got a silent renewal only after all of S1 aired). That being said as poor of a season finale as Second Chances is it is also a terrible potential series finale. In large part it goes back to his lack of planning, he wants to keep all options open but in doing so Tim is crippling the show’s ability to deliver any pay offs or tie up loose ends.  

The one mostly well done plot line this season was Portwell which got a happy ending tonight as they canoned. The only good thing about the big brother angst was that it was so insane that it had to be addressed and sure enough it was and Gina got her first kiss with a guy she really liked. If Tim is to be believed the reason we didn’t get an on screen Portwell kiss was not because of their age difference or covid concerns but because he felt that everyone’s first kiss was different so he wanted it off screen so viewers could fill in the blanks themselves. Tim’s line of reasoning is profoundly stupid. Imagine if they had Jamie show up and he and Gina talked off screen and Tim tried to claim that because everyone has a different relationship with their own siblings that he wanted the audience to fill in the blanks as to how their conversation went!

Still we saw great character development on Gina and EJ’s part as both really grew from the people they were in S1. As Tim noted, EJ bringing Gina back in 1x10 was kind of the set up for this story line. The only thing missing was a brief Portwell scene sometime in eps 2x01-2x04 to set them up. The consistent development they got from 2x05-2x12 is unlike any other ship on the show; only Rini exceeds their development. 

Unfortunately I don’t think that will last in S3 because Tim will always favour Ricky over EJ and if he wants to do Rina he’ll dispose of Portwell before doing so. I was surprised that they never bothered to have Ricky and Gina have a conversation about Gina’s S1 confession. It was a huge mistake to have Gina pine over Ricky for half the season and it was no surprise that Gina’s story line got instantly better once she stopped interacting with Ricky. Tim has made clear in interviews that he’s still interested in the possibility of Rina which makes his poor writing of them even more bizarre. What conclusions are the audience supposed to draw from the Rina story line this season? That Ricky never cared that much about Gina? That it’s totally fine for the show if they don’t interact for 6 eps in a row? That Gina has moved on? I’ve said before that a wiser man than Tim would recognize that doing both Portwell and Rina will do tremendous damage to the show and he should pick one and not do the other. Of course he’s not that smart but it is wild how he’s accidentally written their story line to make for a perfect end to Rina. 

Second Chances was great and is the only part of the finale that would have been well suited to being part of a potential series finale. 

The Rini closure was a sad inverse of their S1 opening night confession. They’ve fallen so far from being the it couple of the series and I fear Tim doesn’t actually know what to do with them now. He really needs to decide if he’s tearing down that treehouse for real. 

The less said about the Valentine’s chocolates the better but at least Gina and Nini are cool again and Nini can explore her budding music career with Jamie’s help. Tim repeatedly said in interviews that the scripts about Nini’s music career were all written before Driver’s License came out and I think he understands that the audience is just going to see the show as copying from Olivia’s life. 

The wildcats just deciding to drop out of the Menkies was a lame cop out. Tim has said he always meant for that to happen though they were originally going to compete at the Menkies then drop out (presumably that’s where we would have heard Lily singing Home). Somebody should have mentioned the $50 000 prize money which the East High theatre department could surely use after Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara burned it down (remember that story line that had no consequences?). And that NYU scholarship could have been life changing for one of them and yet no one even brought  it up once this season. 

I did like the twist that it was EJ and his dad who got Mazzara into Caltech. He’d be a fool not to take it but I’m glad he confessed to Miss Jenn. She’s had a really rough season and I hope she redeems herself in S3.

Howie was acting so weird tonight and last ep that I have a hard time believing he was really so awed by Kourtney’s talent rather than feeling guilty for helping to steal the harness. The harness is another useless plot device; there are no consequences for Lily stealing it, she’s not caught, East High pulls off another version of the transformation off screen, and then East High withdraws from the Menkies anyways. Doubtless the harness will eventually come up to serve Rily angst. 

At least Lily was straightforward, I’ll give her that. She has such an odd way of speaking, almost child like. As awful as it is there is potential for a forbidden/secret romance story line with Rily. It really does not speak well to Ricky’s character that he’s so easily fallen for Lily’s act when he has no reason to trust her and she never apologized for making fun of Big Red during the auditions or making Ashlyn feel insecure during the dance off. 

The one way in which S2 was drastically better to S1 was in regards to the Seblos story line. Clearly Joe being bumped up to regular made a big difference. We got the first same-sex kiss between two boys and the first love song sung by one boy to another in Disney history and that is a legacy to be proud of. Of course, there was still some Disney censorship such as Carlos and Seblos being unable to use the word gay in the same ep that focused on Carlos singing In a Heartbeat to Seb. 

S1 of HSMTMTS had a clear direction, the wildcats would have to try and come together to stage High School Musical and Ricky and Nini would have to decide if they still had a future together while Gina and EJ had to work on being better versions of themselves. It was simple sure but it worked very well. There was a lot of heart but also a lot of humor and the show never took itself too seriously. What has S2 had? Beauty and the Beast was hardly the main focus of the cast or the writers and the central couple that S1 was built around is now broken up either for a long time or for good. There was a lot less of the meta moments that jokes that made S1 such a hit, for far too many eps this season the show took itself way too seriously. Hell even the lighting this season was darker than in S1. 

Olivia Rodrigo’s team had complained in a recent article that Olivia wouldn’t be able to potentially tour until fall 2022 due to her contractual commitments which is a sign that they think a S3 is very likely though I wonder how late S3 filming would have to start to keep her occupied until late 2022. There’s no confirmation of this but I thought it might be worth keeping an eye on; a post on r/hsmtmts by someone who claims to have a source working on production says that the plan is for S3 to be a summer theatre camp possibly with Camp Rock renditions and the plan for S4 is to jump 6 months ahead to the final semester of senior year and end with Ricky, Nini, Big Red, and Kourtney graduating from East High. They also say that part of the delay in the S3 announcement is a conflict between Tim and Disney executives. Tim wants to move production to LA and film on sets as it’s easier and cheaper while the Disney execs still want some on location shooting in Salt Lake. Again this is all unconfirmed but if it pans out it will represent a major shift in the series. 

Regardless if Tim wants the show to remain successful he needs start planning out what he wants to happen. He should not assume he’s getting more than 4 seasons. If the series gets a S3 but then is suddenly cancelled then how would he want all the main story lines to wrap up? And if they make it to S4 where does he see it ending? The graduation of the current juniors is a logical series ending point but if Tim wants to do something different he needs to start thinking of that now. I can’t say I’m excited anymore for S3 but I do really hope that Tim and his writers can turn things around and that will only happen if they recognize what they did wrong and learn from their mistakes. 

Until next season Wildcats

[yanderecandystore]

How about some yandere!giant headcannons please?

(Yes I took the lazy route when drawing this, and if you see people you don't recognize it's because I decided to put my friends in it-)

(( I also had drawn Mikudayo and Miko because I just thought it was funny to make them considering the time I had mistaken them for each other-))

TW/tags: gender neutral reader // I'm gonna make the giant male because you didn't really say giantess? So I'm assuming it's male/gender neutral pronouns // being treated like a doll/pet // kidnapping // language barrier cause I'm yearning- // very generic giant story // delusional thinking // slight stockholm syndrome

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Don't even ask me, y'all read about eldritch creatures so a giant is literally no big deal- [Yandere!Giant x Reader - Headcanon]:

Oh dear, oh goodie, oh Lord-

Does anyone need a bit of context? Maybe a little storyline to start with? I could just go straight to the good stuff though??

Listen- I could pull out so many mother fucking posts under the category of Yandere Giants- Almost all Eldritch content in my blog involves the height difference of: vewy tol x vewy smol UwU

Anyway- Malos, the giant of our story. I'm going to go very generically since I didn't want to say something that could possibly not be of your taste boo-

Malos is your classic troublemaking giant, the type of which you would hear about in fairy tales created to scare the human folk all around your kingdom. All those stories talked about the world beyond the clouds, the giant's kingdom, living their lives in wealth, very far from the ground below where humans (their "favorite delicacy", allegedly) lived.

The one thing that all those stories shared in common was the violent behavior of the tyrants above, their arrogant and greedy nature mixed with the horrifying sightings of giants who would somehow find their way to get on land, specifically targeting a small town to torment. Many have said to have faced a big beast walking around in the woods, some would claim that they actually fought a giant or two, although there is no way to confirm such bold claims of being true.

Were you a common townsfolk who got themselves too far into the woods? An adventurer finding their way into a town surrounded by mystery? Or were you perhaps a noble who by terrible misfortune, had their carriage be stuck during a heavy storm in the dark of night?

It doesn't really matter which one you choose, considering that what happens next would be inevitable. You get lost at the dead of night, the townsfolk not even being able to comprehend how someone can simply disappear like this. You would wake up at a place you couldn't even begin to recognize, it was a very well decorated room yet none of it felt familiar to you.

Maybe it was because of how fancy and modern it was compared to what you were more accustomed with on land, or maybe it was the simple fact that everything in this room was awfully huge compared to you. It took you quite some time to realize that you were not only on top of a massive bed- But that you were trapped inside a bird cage.

Before you could question whether you were having a hallucination or not, your joyful captor made its way inside the bedroom. With such a blissful expression that makes a chill run down your spine- He was so big, it was obvious your captor would have been a giant considering your current location, yet it still shocked you for some reason.

Much to your dismay, your captor does not speak the same language as you, which made you scream at him to free you and put you back where he found you. You have noticed he wasn't understanding a single word coming out of your mouth the moment you started crying at the giant, begging for mercy in fear of what could be your destiny here.

Yet here you were, just- Being observed by such gentle eyes, concerned of your current state. He could talk and shush your cries all he wanted, but you couldn't understand a single thing he meant, the only certainty in this case being the fact you ain't getting out of here so soon.

Malos isn't evil, even if you can't understand what he says- You can tell he is very gentle with you, maybe because he sees how scared and panicky you are, or because he sees you as a pet- Who knows?

He did give you a lot of signs of seeing you as possibly just a "pocket companion", a pet and a doll, someone he could take care of and take wherever he wanted. You noticed how there was no one else who lived with him, maybe he was that lonely and desperate to find a friend that he took you- Without considering your actual feelings on the action.

You weren't too small compared to him, you were basically the height of his hand- A small doll to him, just for him. Whatever life you used to have could be kissed goodbye at this point, because even if you wish everything could go back to normal, that ain't happening, boo.

Malos loves dressing you up, giving you little trinkets to use, giving you small portions of his own food, hearing you make all those lovely sounds he doesn't understand one bit off yet it is still willing to try and comprehend it. He is a very skilled crafter, you know? He knows how to create small toys that will make wonderful gifts for you, at least in his own mind.

Whatever situation you were in that would have brought you to meet him, he would have thought the same thing regardless of what background you could choose for yourself- In Malos eyes, you were lost in the cold of the night, looking so lonely and in need of someone's attention, which he could relate to since he was also lonely and looking for company.

Malos is quite delusional, he has his moments where he has to face reality as a lonely toy maker who kidnapped a human to be his little companion. In these moments of lucidity, he will look at you as if he was lost, as if he was searching for an answer- A confirmation of his actions.

And looking at your cute small little self, confirms his beliefs. You were lost, he was also lost- Yet you found each other, and that's all that matters for him.

After being faced with so much love and attention, considering how weeks and months have passed since he got you here, it's not hard to imagine you feeling more comfortable in his presence.

His skin is so much warmer than yours, his rough hands hold you with such care- It's hard to not give yourself in to his gentle touches, to his incomprehensible whispers, he has such a smooth voice that is hard to not enjoy listening to it.

You didn't plan this to happen- But on each day that passes by, you start feeling like being taken care off is way better than having to fend for yourself down there with the other humans. His company has been so heartwarming, and it hurts you the times he has to go out and take long periods of time outside his house, probably selling his toys or even buying more food for you two.

It's so unfortunate to think that you, someone who was once a person, was now submitting to him and enjoying being treated like this- You would curse at yourself for being so weak, so desperate for his affection, to the point you enjoy being petted and loved as a doll.

With Malos, you could ignore the voices screaming at you to get yourself out of his house in the clouds, but whenever you were left alone locked inside a doll house he built, you would cry yourself to sleep until you could ignore your conscience telling you how much of a failure you are.

If Malos was somehow aware of this confusing thoughts inside you, he would try his best to calm you down, while also pulling you closer to the confirmation that he is here to help you, to take care of you and that there is no shame in you liking him as well. He already loves you so much, he just needs you to do the same for him.

However, Malos isn't always gentle with you- Not only is he easily excited, but he is also easily angered, very childishly. His outbursts are never on you, but rather on the things around you. You can feel the table under you shake whenever he has his temper tantrums, you can see him taking away some of your items as a form of punishment in case you have been acting up.

He would also give you an ice shoulder for some time if he felt as if you were in need of apologizing (even if he didn't understand your language, he could still see through your mannerisms if you were truly sorry or not). He wouldn't ignore you for long, considering how he is also very touch-starved, which leads into the next point:

Malos loves petting you, and touching you. You're soft and squishy and so charming to hold- How can he not love you to bits??!

He gets very confused sometimes, he isn't sure if he sees you as a small pet-like companion, or as a possible- Well, partner. His adoration towards you will start to twist into actual romantic interest, and I warn you to be careful darling-

The moment he sets his mind into something, it's nearly impossible to change it back.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[scuttle-buttle]

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Part of the Baron on the Run series. Also available on AO3 @  scuttlebuttle. They say that life inspires art. i was vibing while making pasta last night and viola.

Summary: You and Zemo do a little dance.

Word Count: ~1.3

Rating: T

Tags: fluff, mildly suggestive, cold war talk, mentions of child loss, indiana jones, disco, italian food, just dance reference

______________________________________________

Zemo entered the kitchen and set his coat on the back of the chair. "Evening, liebe. How was your day?"

You walked over to him. The one nice thing about being quite tall was that you didn't have to go far to reach his waiting lips. Giving him a soft peck, you hummed "it was good. I finally got to look over that set of documents from Belarus this morning. There wasn’t much that I didn’t already know in it. Although, it did confirm that the push for economic and social stability in the capital, as well as the implementation of some westernized practices, was not so that the BSSR and USSR could modernize or even compete with the west - rather it was a means to draw people to settle in Minsk instead of the countryside where it would be easier for Hydra to keep tabs on anyone they perceived to be a threat…” you continued to ramble in the most analytic jargon about the historical implications you discovered.

Helmut made himself a glass of scotch, occasionally nodding along to what you said. Running out of breath you finally stop; "anyway… enough about me."

“I like listening to what you are passionate about. You have worked hard to be so successful and so young.” You gave him a look as though you didn’t believe a word he was saying. And it wasn’t like you were that young, only a little over a decade between you two.

“How did the recon mission go?”

"It went well. I was able to get close enough to the mark to get what I needed. They make it so easy when they openly discuss their plans. You would like the cafe - perhaps later this week we will go. The agreed rendezvous is late tomorrow night; I won't wake you." For the last month Helmut had dedicated his efforts to helping you with your dissertation research. You had limited resources on Sokovia due to the rampant corruption the nation faced. Those few that you had access to Helmut would help translate.

Hands gently massaging your shoulders as he leaned over you. His cologne invades your senses. “This right here - I’m not sure what it means,” you would tell him, pointing to the passage.

Glancing over it for a moment, Helmut responded with the translation. “You know schatz, I’m beginning to wonder if you truly need my assistance, or if you just want an excuse for me to touch you,” he chuckled.

The fall of the country and subsequent annexation made matters even more challenging. Some unsavory underground groups had been smuggling documents and the like for a profit. With his background in EKO Scorpion and the intelligence community it was an easy way for him to spend his time tracking the materials. "It won't just be for you, liebe. If I can recover any of the surviving artifacts and records from before the Avengers destroyed my country it is a step towards preserving my heritage," was his justification. He wouldn't admit it, but you knew he liked being back in the field, so to speak. You also knew that the more information he had the more cards were up his sleeve.

"Don't forget to bring your hat and whip when you go," you ribbed, referencing one of your favorite film series; Indiana Jones.

"Of course... Hmm. Maybe when I get back I will have to wake you. I'm sure we could put them to better use than just treasure hunting." Helmut loved to tease you after he discovered your fondness for a young Harrison Ford. In fact, teasing and flirting with you had become his favorite pastime since your first night together.

Groaning out a laugh at his suggestive joke, you turned and headed back over to the stove. You set on a large pot of water to boil. Helmut approached the stove. "And what are you preparing for dinner this evening, liebling?" he asked, rubbing your back through your top. You knew he didn’t expect you to cook for him, but you wanted to.

"Spaghetti and a homemade sauce with spicy Italian sausage - my father used to make it when I was growing up." You stirred the simmering sauce, letting the flavors continue to marinate together.

"It smells wonderful,” he moaned. Somberly he added “I used to make a bolognese. It was the one dish I knew how to prepare. It was my son’s favorite.” You squeezed his side in hopes to offer comfort.

“You’ll have to make it for me sometime,” you request tenderly.

His lips turned up in a soft smile. “Yes I will, liebe. I'm going to go change before we eat, I will be back shortly." He kissed your temple before heading to the bedroom of the house you were occupying.

When the water boiled you placed the noodles in the pot and set a timer. Grabbing your phone off the counter you pulled up Spotify, queueing your "feeling it" playlist. The beginning notes of ABBA's Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! began. Heading to the cabinet you brought down two glasses. Picking a bottle of red wine - sweeter to balance with the spiciness of the sauce - you opened it and poured yourself and Helmut a glass each.

Hips beginning to sway to the rhythm of the music, you returned to the stove. This playlist always put you in a great mood. You continued to move to the music, singing along softly. You take a generous swig from the bottle of wine still in your hand before adding some to the sauce, stirring the pot thoroughly.

Dancing through the kitchen you sing out 'gimme! gimme! gimme! a man after midnight!" You knew you were a terrible dancer, even worse than Helmut. That didn't stop you from partaking in the activity, your hips gyrating and shoulders shimmying.

You didn't notice the movement in the hallway, still caught up in the song. Wine glass in hand, you attend to the stove to ensure the water doesn't boil over. The song eventually changes over to a Boney M classic. "There lived a certain man in Russia long ago…." Excitedly, you put down your glass. You remember the choreography like it was yesterday, middle school you always danced to the song in an old video game.

Without hesitation you clapped your hands and swung your hips to the beat. Turning you notice Helmut leaning against the kitchen door. How long he'd been there, you didn't know. Based on the amused smile he wore he clearly enjoyed watching you look like an idiot dance.

Making your way to him you reach out for his hands. Helmut followed along, albeit hesitant to move his body yet. You locked your eyes to his. Wiggling your eyebrows exaggeratedly at him, pushing and pulling his arms in time with the beat. “Come on, Helmut - dance with me!”

“I thought I was a terrible dancer? Did you not say that in Madripoor?” he interrogated without a single trace of seriousness.

“Oh you know I love the way you dance,” you giggled, still moving to the beat.

There was a glint of something in his eyes; suddenly Helmut took charge of your little dance. He twisted his hips from side to side, breaking one hand away from you to twirl you under his arm. The two of you danced like dorks, firsts pumping and hands in the air and wagging your fingers around the kitchen.

A sudden shrill from the timer stopped your movements, both bursting into fits of laughter. Turning off the timer Helmut took care of draining the pasta for you. As you caught your breath you couldn’t help but admire the man. He had spent so long seeking vengeance, yet now here he was dancing like a weirdo with you in the kitchen. His face was so relaxed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this happy and at peace you thought to yourself. Maybe, just maybe, you had something to do with that.

“Is the sauce ready?” Helmut inquired with a lingering smile.

You took a minute to keep appreciating him before answering. “Yeah. Yeah it’s good.”

Tag list: @ay0nha​

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

it’s a fucking metaphor!

Titans 3.08

i’ve finally gathered the mental and emotional resources to do this thing, so let’s go! as always, i’m typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. on watching this opening scene, i was thinking back to how gar was in s1, or even the early bits of s2. the way he idolised the others, particularly dick, and his readiness to go along with whatever they said, and the way he practically bled the need for acceptance. and here he is now, openly defying dick, fully open to and aware of the flaws of the people he loves and admires, knowing he is accepted no matter what and extending that generosity elsewhere. it’s a remarkable bit of character growth that’s... sort of blossomed in the background and so rewarding to see and acknowledge. 

1.25. i guess what i really love about this conflict over how to respond to jason--as clumsily as it is sometimes written--is how their histories and individual traumas inform each character’s reaction. dick is torn between his guilt over what’s become of jason and his drive to do what batman had essentially given up on doing: he is motivated to track down red hood at all costs but there’s a sense that he’s not completely sold on the idea that the only way to stop him is to kill him. (he might go the comics route and try to put him in arkham? god, imagine if the season ended with jason in arkham.) kory’s never had much of a connection with jason in the first place, and jason has done one of the worst things he could do in her book: track and kill a member of her newfound family and is threatening to kill more. 

and gar... sure. look. the idea of jason and red hood as separate entities appeals to him; that red hood emerged when jason was drugged to the gills by scarecrow and lost his usual inhibitions. gar’s struggled with what he becomes when he’s pushed to his limits, too--he did rip open that experimenting scientist with his teeth way back in 1.07, after all, and he was brainwashed by cadmus in s2 into becoming a literal monster. he needs to think, to know, there’s a dichotomy, a line that can only be crossed under extreme duress or by outside influence. 

and he says--and we say--that he was accepted back into the titans in spite of what he’d done, but was he really? gar’s always struggled with his footing in this group; relegated to the caretaker, the tech guy, the gatekeeper, and sometimes punching bag even though everybody’s paying lip service to how much of a family they all are. perhaps gar reaching out to jason and offering acceptance is aspirational on his part: perhaps this is the effort he hoped the titans put/or will put into getting gar back, even when it would seem like he’s too far gone.

1.5. anyway my point is that i don’t think it’s worth discussing this in terms of right/wrong decisions because all of their reactions make a lot of sense given their backgrounds/personalities. gar is doing a fine job here of tracking down jason’s friends and trying to find him that way, but we the audience know that jason is ultimately going to end up an anti-hero/eventually-hero character, so with that knowledge in mind we know that gar’s reaction is the right one. it’s knowledge that the other characters don’t have, so to judge them on it is... uh, unfair.

1.8. also, molly is awesome, yay!

2. dick and barbara flirting over the phone is so cute! i love to see this side of dick: lighter, peppier, willing (even if somewhat reluctantly) to put his mission aside to go out on a date with his girlfriend. and i love how easy this makes his dynamic with kory too: it’s all very domestic and utterly delightful. 

(also, re: the water leak in barbara’s office--you’re saying GCPD could afford fancy-schmancy table-wide touch screen computers and evil-lair lighting but needs its frickin’ commissioner to catch leaking water from above her desk with mugs and fishbowls????)

2.2225. this is probably a teeny tiny thing and i’m not sure i want to bring it up at all BUT. the fact that dick feels compelled to lie to barbara about not liking fancy gala food and eating something more substantial before the date? not a terribly great sign, though i wouldn’t call it a red flag per se. 

“this from a man who forced his students to eat cauliflower crust pizza...”

3. so.... conner and kom are a Thing. huh.

in theory i really like the idea of them bonding over an innate alien-ness and longing for a place they could really belong. both of them are alien twice-over: conner a mix of kryptonian and human, practically generated in a test tube, and kom being somebody that was born different and rejected by her own people, now stuck on a planet dominated by an entirely different species. i even like them exploring this bond physically. i guess it’s the sense of... uneasiness around what we do and don’t know about kom that makes this scene land slightly left of centre to me. i think titans, especially through s2, has cultivated in its audience a sense of distrust even until the final episode, just in case somebody vital to the season is suddenly revealed to have had ulterior motives (i’m even low-key suspicious of leslie). i really want to see this kom-conner dynamic play out but the anticipation of watching the other shoe drop is sucking out the enjoyment.

4. for fuck’s sake dick, gar’s not your gatekeeper.

TIIIIIIIIMMMMM \O/

4.5. i love this nod to tim’s origins in the comics, the way he just comes in and lays out all his evidence and makes it clear to dick that he needs tim’s help as robin. the fact that he was there at the flying graysons’ last performance, he was obsessed with their acrobatic moves, and was observant enough to connect those moves with that of robin and later nightwing... all of this came together to put him where he is right now.

(i also love how he can’t contain his giddy excitement when talking about the day dick grayson’s parents died... to dick grayson. even if dick weren’t nightwing, that would be a deeply uncomfortable thing! yet tim can’t help himself, and i love him for it.)

4.8. it’s a testament to how much dick’s caught off-guard that he can’t come up with a better response to tim’s allegations other than “uh... he stole my moves! as you know, no two gymnasts in the world are allowed to do the same moves. now, let me escort you out while pretending poorly that i’m not at all shaken by this...”

4.9. i’ve talked about this before, but i find the logic around secret identities in this universe utterly fascinating. the titans don’t make much effort in keeping their identities secret: everybody seems to know that kory is starfire for instance, or that gar is beast boy. dick grayson is seen hanging out with kory a lot, especially at crime scenes. it won’t take a lot of sleuthing to find out that the titans are currently camped out at wayne manor, and to put two and two together.

my theory was that superheroes and villains have become such an integral part of daily society that it’s almost not worth it to seek out their secret identities, or that it’s just not a big deal anymore. like politicians or diplomats, not everybody bothers to look into who exactly their local politician is, but the people who know just... know. it’s a sort of unspoken social contract.

tim’s broken this contract by confronting dick about his identity, and dick’s not ready to deal with it. not entirely.

look at him! *pinches his cheeks*

5. ngl, it was quite satisfying to see jason knock the scarecrow out like that. 

5.5. i guess... the question of jason’s culpability is always going to be a thorny one and would make for a great courtroom drama spinoff. there are a number of factors to consider: jason’s personality, the rough circumstances under which he grew up, his undoubtedly stressful transition to being robin, bruce wayne being... well, bruce wayne, never feeling accepted by the titans and having most of them turn on him, being roundly defeated and almost killed by deathstroke, alfred’s death, a fuckload of ptsd, his violent death, crane’s manipulations, coming back to life, crane plying him with a drug. but there is no easy line to draw between any of these factors to his actions. i think it would be a disservice to jason’s character to attribute his actions entirely to these things and rather irresponsible to do so. i think jason has to reckon with the fact that when he took crane’s drug, he wasn’t reckless and chaotic like the thugs he gave it to; the planning that went into hank’s death was meticulous and the way hank died--dawn essentially tricked into pulling the trigger that blew her lover into bits--is so drawn out and cruel. 

5.75. it’s occurring to me that crane might have given jason a placebo. maybe jason’s dependence is psychological, and he’s externalised his fears in such a way that he believes crane’s drugs literally wipe them out, however temporarily.

in any case, the boy needs (more) therapy.

6. “he walked like robin...” fuck, tim

“gait recognition sweep” god, this show. i don’t know whether to laugh or cry. hey, once we’re done doing this gait recognition thingy, can we get a goddamn plumber in the house??? or move the commissioner’s desk so that sewage water isn’t dripping on her head or the million dollar touchscreen desk???????

6.5. oh no dick!!!!!! i am delighted that you got hurt but i feel ashamed about it! that looked like it really hurt!

he’s really not having a good time of it, is he. from being shot by a sniper to slamming at full speed into an suv, he’s got to be really fucking battered by now. and that’s just the physical side of it.

“can you believe that just over a week ago i was sitting in san francisco eating cauliflower crust pizza and feeling good about myself for the first time in five years...”

7. kory’s having visions again! now that she’s figured what they are, do you think the show’s just dropped justin? it’s curious that HPG hasn’t been brought up in a while after featuring relatively heavily in the beginning. hmmm.

8. dick’s in hospital but... he looks remarkably whole for someone who took a spill like that. you’d think he’d at least have a bruise to show for it. on the other hand, i love that the first thing he says is ‘i need to call home’. reminds me of season 1 dick and his clumsy attempts to explain away his found family as an ‘alliance of necessity’ or some bullshit. what a long way he’s come!

*gasp* dick’s hallucinating again!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m doing the dick’s hallucinating dance! can you believe that we’re carrying over these huge honking issues unearthed in season 2 onto season 3? can you believe?!!! all that time and effort i spent talking about dick’s mental health from last season has not gone in vain!!

... ahem. anyway. more on this later.

“hold on barbara, i think kory gave me the number to this therapist that she kept calling Hot Psychiatrist Guy...”

9. just an interlude to say that i’m barely halfway through the episode and i’ve already written 2k+ words... ugh. i’m going to try and be more concise.

10. man i fuckin love it when titans goes all out with its weird mindscapes and i’m extra glad that kory’s the focus this time. is that baby kom or maybe a secret sibling that neither of them knew about? was that lady luand’r? and is this place where kory was circling where the secret sibling is? it’s all very intriguing. 

(if justin turned out to be that sibling... we’ve a real luke/leia situation on our hands.)

11. aw, i knew that nice security guard was going to die, but it still hurt to see him go :(

12. this show is so bizarre. like i get the mindscape as a narrative device, but jason using sex workers to try and vocalise his guilt about killing hank was just weird. like. i have to use tamil, sorry: idhulaan yaaru pa room pottu yosikara??? some things just can’t be translated into a second language.

i guess one way to interpret jason’s reckoning with what he did to the titans as a sign of him coming off crane’s drug, but i think it’s more to do with the disillusionment of realising that he was a mere pawn in a more sinister plan, and not, as he thought, a player in control of his destiny, rising to the purpose of liberating gotham of its fears in a way batman never could. along the way, he’s done some truly irreversible damage. it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

13. another hallucination! it’s really intriguing that it’s a young dick(?), younger than we’ve ever seen him, wearing an early-era robin costume from way before he even became robin. (this is also interesting in that it gives credence to the idea that ‘robin’ is an identity that dick created entirely on his own, and as a possible homage to his family.)

“old road, old house... it’s all gone.” i wonder what it all means.

13.5. it’s entirely likely dick’s hallucinating because of a brain injury from the accident, though just hallucinations without any other focal neurological deficit is unusual. he might’ve been microdosed with fear toxin at some point, though i wonder when... did jason do so after dick’s accident? did he get dosed at the factory from last episode? 

it’s also possible it’s a continuing manifestation of dick’s issues from last season--which, if you remember, he never told anyone about and therefore never properly addressed. maybe he was hallucinating bruce wayne in a psychotic episode accompanying an acute stress reaction and maybe that’s what’s happening now. nobody’s denying that he’s under an extraordinary amount of stress right now. another way to look at it is that this is how he externalises conflict that he can’t bear to suppress anymore; if in s2 halluci!bruce manifested his insecurities and self-loathing, then these hallucinations... something to do with his fears, no doubt.

yet ANOTHER way to look at it might be: rachel is reaching out to him through their, well, psychic bond. after all, they were able to use that bond unconsciously last season to get the titans back together; maybe rachel has learned to gain a degree of control over it in themyscira and is sending across warnings? it’s all very intriguing.

anyway:

“i hear you skipped over the discowing suit in your evolution to nightwing... how could you??”

14. can you imagine, gar did all the work of reaching out to jason via molly and jason wants to meet dick? smh.

14.5. “i’m just a regular guy doing regular things” he says, standing at the opening of a secret old tunnel, like a secret person doing secret things, confronting someone who can now officially be called his stalker. neither of you guys are ‘regular’

14.8. ‘my dad was a cop and he taught me how to investigate’ - hmmm. i guess they’re trying to Explain Tim but i don’t think that’s really necessary. so he’s smart and he’s obsessed with batman and robin--that should be enough, imo. 

15. that scene with scarecrow and his mother was... wow. i’m just laughing here helplessly, because what the hell? for a while i thought it was an extended dream sequence and i’m still not entirely sure that it isn’t...

anyway. i still love that titans is happy to throw out its plot in favour of extended character-exploration sessions.

15.5. it seems to me that this scene with crane and his mother (i have no idea if there’s anything in the comics similar to this) serves to move forward this season’s theme of harmful legacies and how parents can damage their children in the name of their mission. in a way it’s been the underlying message of the entire show but we’re really seeing it being reinforced this season. the titans, serving as a foil to scarecrow, are using the damage to rebuild themselves and actually work through their issues together, instead of spiralling further and further into the morass of their issues.

other than that... god, that scene was painful to watch. i can’t say i like this version of scarecrow or how this actor plays him at all.

16. i wonder what’s jason’s play here. i think he’s smart enough to realise that the titans aren’t going to just forgive him and let him be a titan again after what he did, and that dick agreeing to it is just a bid to pin both him and crane down. maybe it’s a ploy to trap them, get back on scarecrow’s good books so that he can have the drug again. who knows.

17. i absolutely felt dick when he said “we’ll bring him in and then re-assess the situation.” what the fuck else is he going to say? the priority is to get him.

so kory and dick are both hallucinating while potentially trying to rehabilitate their murderous siblings. CONFIDE IN EACH OTHER ALREADY

18. TIM NOOOO! you beautiful, reckless fool!

18.25. just to quickly address it here because i know it’s been brought up before: i think it’s perfectly justified to not have conner take tim to the hospital via superspeed because a) i don’t think we’ve seen conner do that with anybody so far and b) it’s probably not a good idea to submit tim’s body to that kind of stress without knowing what it would do to him. the paramedics with actual equipment and experience would be there in a few minutes, so on a risk assessment, i would say dick and conner absolutely made the right call.

18.5. i guess we won’t know what jason really intended to when the titans came to the pump to see him, but this is definitely going to set a big wedge in his relationship with crane. then again, crane got what he wanted--using starfire’s powers to blast through to the underground pipes--so jason can argue that this is exactly what he was working towards, too. 

anyway, mortal peril, hallucinations, murderous family members, creepy visions and robins sprouting left and right. time to get rachel and donna on the scene, i think.