#I mean it I’m SO FRAGILE RN

[kakerutori]

Thinking about how Nancy didn't have another female friend after Barb until Robin. Nancy even had flashbacks about Barb that Fred had to snap her out of in s4 oh my gosh and Robin was the first female friend she ever accepted into her life after that trauma. Can you imagine how worried Nancy must be about making any more new friends that she has the potential to lose again? And hence she never seems to search for any closeness or intimacy with any other women besides her own mother? Only for Robin to break her and even make her smile at the thought of them becoming friends?? Holy cow.

[alittlecartoonie]

the mutation must survive

[rosicheeks]

Is this why you want to get dp’d so you can make a big mess with 2 cocks inside your needy little holes? 😇

👀

[arolesbianism]

Grrr

[darlinimamess]

i hate having only adult friends bc they want to go to bars and stuff and they know i still want to hang out with them so they ask me to drive for them and ofc i’m gonna say yes but then they’re pregaming and playing drinking games and i’m just sitting in the other room with the dog

[bigtreefest]

So….

For fall do I need to make werewolf Jakey and vampire ran?

[cheolstrider]

screaming crying throwing up rn bc of one of my moots on twt (they like getting involved in fan arguments/petty staantwt shit for fun and i am so sensitive and hate when people are mean over things that aren’t harmful

[sunberies]

How is the Village taking Poppy and Branch’s surprise egg in the Silver Linings AU? As an introvert myself my heart goes out to Branch for how awkward this must be 😅

i genuinely can’t imagine the village being anything but happy about this, i mean come on. a new royal baby to take care of? yeah, they’re stoked. and i also am an introvert so i need things to go right or else i will feel every emotion this guy would feel and i CANT. DO IT.

Branch was flipping out about this but was able to do so with Poppy constantly in his ear telling him that it was going to be ok and that she’d be there with him :3 he is SHOCKED that everyone was so happy about it, he was worried that everyone was going to think less of Poppy for even thinking about liking him(someone get this guy a therapist)

Branch is still kinda in shock afterwards, but he’s really happy and relieved that things are actually looking up for him for once.

also, Poppy and Branch needn’t worry about getting baby supplies because the village gifted them literally everything they needed(Branch is so confused)

(i’m so fragile rn i genuinely can’t think about angst cause i will crumble into a million pieces)((i want branch to be LOVED and TAKEN CARE OF))

ok bye bye until next time :3

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐍𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k (short and not-so sweet🥲)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wife!Reader, heavy angst (no comfort), arguing, grief, hallucinations, birth complications. Italic writing indicates a flashback scene

𝐀/𝐍: Hey <3 missed me? If you follow me, you’ll know how much I’m fixating over Cyberpunk: Edgerunners. I’m still not over that ending with this song playing 😢 so I’m in an angsty mood rn

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Grief-stricken, Miguel struggles to escape the past as the lines blur between reality and haunting memories.

Miguel couldn’t remember the last time he felt this unhinged— like everything was held together but a fraying thread, moments from snapping.

His hands trembled by his sides as he stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him with a force that rattled the whole room.

The calm, peaceful night shattered instantly. Your head snapped up at the sudden noise, startled, your eyes widened as you looked at him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he hissed, barely holding back the explosive frustration boiling beneath the surface.

You blinked, taken back by the intensity in his tone, but you stayed firm. “Like what? Aren’t you going to apologise?”

Miguel scoffed in disgust, a harsh sound that seemed to cut through your resolve momentarily. Apologise? Why should he be the one to apologise?

Out of everyone, at least you should have seen his side of things, to hear him out. But now, even his own wife seemed to be against him.

“Aren’t you supposed to stand by me?” His voice grew harsher, every word carrying resentment. But, you didn’t flinch this time.

“You’ve been pushing everyone away, you’ve been distant. And now you’re getting angry at me for trying to help,” There it was. the gentle, yet unwavering, voice you always used on him— a soothing balm that always calmed the jagged edge of his nerves.

You always managed to reach past the storm inside him. If it were a different night, any other fight, he might’ve collapsed into your arms and tucked himself between the dip of your neck.

But tonight was different. Tonight, everything felt like it was slipping out of his control. Most people had the luxury of worrying about their own corner of the world, their own issues.

But not him. For Miguel, there was no peace, no relief. The weight of entire realities hung on his shoulders, a responsibility so immense it threatened to suffocate him daily.

“I’m not getting angry,” he bit out, but the words came out hollow. If he grinded his teeth any longer, they would turn into powder any moment.

“Then what’s with the tone? Why are you speaking to me like this, Miguel?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he rose from the bed, crossing the room in quick, heavy steps. Before you could react, he grabbed your wrists.

His grip was tight, almost too tight, but he couldn’t stop himself. His frustration, his fear, all bled into his hands. He held onto you as though you were the only anchor in the world that stayed intact while his world crumbled around him.

“You have no idea what I’m going through right now,” he gritted through clenched teeth.

He saw the momentary surprise on your face at the sudden grip. But you quickly masked it with something more determined.

You wouldn’t let him pull you under him. “Then tell me. Explain it to me.”

“You don’t have to be the one to make all the sacrifices…” The ice was slowly starting to crack, the anger beginning to unravel into something more fragile. “You’ll never understand.”

There was no way you could understand. You weren’t a Spider-Person, you didn’t know what it was like to live like this— isolated, constantly fighting, knowing every small mistake, every canon that’s disrupted could mean one step closer to losing everything.

He could never be the husband you deserve…

~

Miguel pulled you closer in bed, his arms securely around you as the quiet of the night settled in between you both. The soft rustles of sheets was the only sound in the room that filled the silence.

“Jess seems to be adjusting well,” you murmured, tracing idle patterns on his biceps. “With her new baby, I mean.”

Miguel instantly knew you were referring to Jessica Drew, the Spider-Woman who was part of his inner circle at the Society.

Jess had always been a natural leader, diligent and reliable, so it was no surprise that she’d embrace motherhood with the same effortless grace.

But it was a pain in the ass finding someone to cover her duties during the last stages of her pregnancy, albeit he had never once doubted her ability as a mother.

“Yeah, she’s adjusting pretty well,” he said, voice low with the weight of the day tugging at his exhaustion. He let out a slight weary yawn before he continued. “She’s a natural.”

“She makes it look so easy,” you remarked, fingers still dancing lightly over his arms.

Miguel only nodded in agreement, too tired to fully engage. Your eyes fluttered close. Your touch over his arm was enough to lull him to sleep, sending shivers up his spine. But your next words kept him from slipping away completely.

“I’ve always wondered what it’s like…having a little baby depending on you. Watching them grow, helping them find their way in the world.”

He sighed softly, even with his tiredness, his mind drifted along with your thoughts. The idea of having a child, raising someone who would depend on him, shaping their future.

Being responsible to teach them what’s right and wrong and how to be respectful. It wasn’t new to him. He had thought about it before, though only fleetingly, given how much he already had on his plate.

He let out a soft hum at the thought. “I imagine it’s a lot of work.”

“Do you ever think about it?” you asked, your voice soft, as if testing the waters.

He hesitated for a bit before he answered. “Every now and then…”

“A family? You thought of having a family?” He could hear the hint of curiosity, maybe even hope, in your tone.

“Yeah I have thought about that plenty of times,” he admitted, his eyes heavy with sleep but the conversation kept him tethering to the moment.

You fell silent, and for a while, the quiet between the two of you was comfortable again. But Miguel was oblivious to your racing mind.

He thought that might be the end of it, that you would both drift off to sleep. But after a pause, you spoke again, this time more tentatively.

“Do you think I’ll be a good mother?”

Your question had a hint of insecurity to it, enough to stir him awake. Miguel opened his eyes and lifted his head, turning to fully look at you.

“Of course you would,” he said, trying to sound as convincing as he could. He gave you a reassuring smile. “You’d be an incredible mother. I have no doubt.”

“I really want a baby…” you blurted out, as if your hints weren’t obvious.

“Yeah…maybe someday, when things aren’t so complicated,” Miguel leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Someday…” you echoed.

Hope was always dangerous. Miguel learned that the hard way. It was like building a sandcastle too close to the ocean— no matter how much time or care you put into it, the tide will come and wash it away.

He wanted to give you everything you dreamed of— a family, a future— but everytime he tried to be optimistic, the fear crept back in, looming over him like a dark shadow.

Yet laying next to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, he found himself daring to hope again. You made him believe there was something more, something worth risking for.

How long was he going to run away from the possibility of happiness? He had been playing defence for so long— saving the world.

But what if this was the one thing worth letting his guard down. The one thing he couldn’t afford to lose.

~

“You think I don’t understand? I’m here trying to support you, and you’re lashing out—”

“Every second of my life has been about sacrifices. I don’t get to choose what I want anymore, everytime I try it’s ripped away from me.” His voice was teetering with rage.

“Miguel…” you said softly. Your voice was a plea, but he didn’t hear you. He was far too gone.

“I’m here saving the world, holding the whole multiverse together.” He seethed, teeth still grinding. “I’m always the one who has to give something up. Always. When does it end?”

“Miguel,” you repeated, louder this time, but your voice still didn’t reach him.

“I’ve given up everything. My life isn’t mine anymore.” His voice cracked, raw with heated emotions. “It’s nothing but an endless loop of fixing someone else’s messes and losing! I’m losing everything, and now I’m starting to lose this…lose us.”

“Miguel!” you shouted, finally snapping him out of his heated trance, like a lifeline yanking him back to the present. His head jerked up to look back at you, but something felt off.

You seemed…fainter, like you weren’t even here. But he brushed it off, to rationalise it— maybe he was just exhausted and his mind was not fully in the moment. He blinked, shaking his head to clear his vision and bring you back to focus.

“You need to move on,” you stated, your voice fading in the air.

His frustration flared hotter. “What?” He scoffed at you. “Move on? From what? I can’t just walk away from all of this. You know that. I’ve already given up almost everything—”

“You’re just making this harder for yourself. You need to let go.”

He blinked again, harder this time, as you flickered slightly. What the hell were you saying? Why were you talking in riddles when he was clearly upset?

“What do you mean ‘let go���? I won’t just—” his words caught in his throat as the realisation hit him like a sucker punch.

He was talking to no one.

The memory-your death— the empty space where you should have been— rushed back with crushing force.

Miguel was dimly aware of the emptiness around him, and the fact that he was talking to the ghost is his own making.

His chest heaved. His pulse thudded in his ear.

His mind was a mess of memories and emotions all tangled together in a knot, and he couldn’t find his way out.

“I can’t…I don’t want to let go of you…you’re all I have left.” his voice cracked, the anger from earlier now dissolving into pure desperation.

The room felt colder now, your foam was barely visible. The outline of you was shimmering like a fragile illusion, on the brink of vanishing. “I know Miguel.” you whispered. “But you’re losing yourself, too.”

He reached out, gripping tighter onto your wrist, but all he felt was air where your soft skin should have been beneath his touch.

His eyes fixated on the spot where he believed you were to be, squinting his eyes in a desperate attempt to see you again.

“Miguel…you have to let go.” he heard you say.

“No, I don’t want to.”

He tried to grip tighter, trying to anchor himself to you, but your image was becoming more insubstantial with each passing second. He could only hear your voice in his head now.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He confessed. The pain and loss that had been twisting in his gut finally rose, bringing a flood of tears to his eyes. He tried to fight them back, but it was a losing battle.

Damn his eyes burned.

“You’re everywhere in my thoughts, in my dreams…and…” his words trailed off, his breath hitched as he fought back against the breakdown.

He couldn’t scrape off the thoughts of you in his mind, no matter how much he tried to keep himself occupied, to keep his mind busy.

You were always there and he didn’t know how to navigate through all of this.

“Miguel…” he heard you call his name again, but he didn’t want to listen to it, he didn’t want to face the reality that it wasn’t real.

“Don’t…” he choked, a futile effort of holding back his sobs that wanted to tear themselves out of his chest. “Don’t…say that. Please. I can’t…”

A helpless strangled sound escaped from the back of his throat. The pain was suffocating him, and he could barely breathe. No amount of pleading would bring you back.

“You’re…not really here,” he said to nobody, as if reminding himself, breaking his heart all over again. “You’re dead…I’m just deluding myself, imagining you're here with me.”

His hands finally dropped to his sides, fingers twitching helplessly as he stood in the deafening silence.

“Please,” he begged, his voice a quiet plea in the empty room. “Tell me I’m going to be okay…tell me you’re here for me…that you won’t let go.”

The silence felt suffocating, his chest tight as he searched the shadows for any traces of you. He felt like he was losing his mind, spiralling into madness without your voice and your words to pull him back from the edge.

Just one more time. He needed to hear you once more, to feel the comfort of your sweet reassurance.

But the silence persisted. Your figure was gone. He wiped his face roughly, swallowing hard against the crushing emptiness.

He had been trying to keep strong for so long, to keep everything contained. But at that moment, his exhaustion was catching up to him.

The weight of his loneliness and despair was too much to bear, squeezing the chest until the last bit of air was out of his body.

But the sound of a baby crying cut through the moment, drawing Miguel abruptly back to reality. His body went rigid as the sound wrenched something in his heart. It was the sound of your baby crying in the middle of the night.

Miguel hesitated for a moment, stuck between staying in the room— hoping the universe will be merciful enough to show the image of his wife again even if it was just a hallucination— or leaving to take care of the baby.

The weight of the responsibility and his fatherly instincts outweighs the former, and he let out a ragged breath.

He turned back to the wall.

“I have to—” he started, but the words faltered as he saw nothing. There was no one here to reassure him. No one here to answer.

The room was still empty. He wanted to stay in the room, and savour the remnants of the illusions in his head. The bittersweet bliss of your presence.

But the sound of the baby crying grew more persistent, calling for her father’s comfort. He stepped back reluctantly letting go of the hallucinations.

With a heavy heart and heavy footsteps, Miguel slowly made his way into the nursery, where your one-year-old daughter was crying, her arms reaching up, desperate to be held.

He still remembered the day you woke him up when you felt your first contraction. Your expression was a mixture of excitement and nervousness— a fragile joy clinging to the edge of fear. Miguel kept his grip on your hand, reminding you to breathe.

As the contractions intensified, he watched helplessly as your face twisted in pain. It aches him to see you suffer while he could do nothing but offer words of reassurance, as the nurse had told him.

Still, you held onto his hand, like it was the only thing keeping you tethering through the agony.

Finally, the moment came when you were ready to push the baby out. He'd never felt you grip his hand so hard, even with his broad strength. It felt like an eternity before Miguel saw you baby girl for the first time.

Miguel would never forget the look in your eyes when you saw her. He’d never seen your face light up like that.

But the joy was only fleeting. Little did he know at the time that the happiest moment wasn’t going to last. He hadn’t picked it up at first— the subtle changes in your breathing, and the way your hand went slack in his.

You were just tired, he thought. Just exhausted from hours of labour. But your breaths came in short, shallow gasps, and your face clouded with confusion. He’ll never get over how you looked back at him, your face slowly growing to a panic.

The doctors rushed in, everything happening so fast. They told him to step back, but Miguel refused to leave. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as your body grew limp, a doctor frantically trying to resuscitate you.

It took several staff members to pull him out of the room, the baby still clutched in his arms. Hours later, a doctor returned, their sullen expression enough for Miguel to know what was coming.

Pulmonary embolism. That’s what they said. A blood clot had traveled to your lungs, cutting off your breathing— cutting off your life. The words blurred, his mind tuning out everything except for the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

No…that was the baby in his arms. As if she sensed the moment you slipped away. Her mother, once threaded to her by an umbilical cord, was now gone.

Miguel gently lifted her from the crib, holding her close against his chest. She quietened slightly, her cries turning into soft ragged hiccups.

Tiny fingers curled into his shirt, clinging to him as if she knew he was all she had left. Through the haze of grief, he could’ve sworn he saw you standing there— your figure, ethereal, stroking the baby’s hair away from her face with a tender smile.

A loving motherly look in your eyes. Could she feel it too? He shook his head, dispelling the vision, and continued to cradle your daughter.

She was so small, so fragile. And now, he was all she had. He was her father, her protector, her everything.

It’s okay mija. I’ve got you

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nina-from-317 @stargirl-mayaa @ch3rry-bl1ss @monarchberrysblog @francesca-the-1st

@shakespear-picaso-lovechild @watertribeissuperior @kavimoo @ruled-by-regulus @lazyjellyfish300

@red-crystalize @devotion @riameriash @scaryplanetdestroyer

Here’s something to lighten the mood from that ending, since you lot are all here. I’ve made two….magazine inspired posters that I was planning to use for my ao3 work.

You can find the work here. A collection of ALL my Miguel one shots in one. And because I’m extra, I made a custom work skin with it and a Miguel playlist.

Title inspired by There’s Blood in my Hair. I wanted it to have the same jarring feel

Ayrus xoxo

[revasserium]

i’m CRAVING a sanji fic rn 🤤🤤

maybe something on showing affection with him? cause i feel like he’s kinda superficial with his affection when first trying to get with u, but then as the relationship progresses the affection becomes so much more.

well ur in luck bc i do have a sanji fic cookin currently but who knows how long it'll take me to actually finish... in the meantime... here are some sanji domestic/affectionate!headcanons bc why not

in the beginning, it would be the grand gestures -- always waking you up with a kiss and coffee (or tea, if you're sick, or just don't feel like coffee that day) and your favorite foods; a bouquet of fresh flowers (do not ask him how he obtains these in the middle of the ocean; he will not tell you and robin remarks loftily one day that you might not like the answer)

in the beginning, he'd tell you he loves you every single hour, lest you forget for even a minute, even though it's only been like... a week and you're not entirely sure what "love" means quite yet

and then, it'd taper off, not because the 'honeymoon phase' is over, but because he'd find other ways to show you -- other ways of tellin you he loves you without telling you in so many words

there's still breakfast, but sometimes instead of coffee or tea, there's a book that you mentioned you'd been wanting to read, there's an origami crane folded out of the napkin with such excruciating care it almost breaks your heart, there's a note written in his sloppy, slanted handwriting that he dreamt of you last night and couldn't figure out if he wanted to wake up to tell you or keep sleeping not to break the fragile dream

and the "i love you"s become something else too -- they become "how did you sleep, love?" and "i knew you'd be craving that" and "c'mon, drink up -- there's more where that came from" and "tell me about your dreams" and "funny, those sound an awful lot like my dreams too".

it'd solidify, this kind of love -- his kind of love -- into something much quieter than anyone might suspect. this kind of love that simmers, the kind of love that curls around you like a hot bath, that draws you in

it's the way he always saves the wishbone whenver he cooks up any kind of bird, how he always waits till everything is done and the kitchen's all cleaned up before pulling you toward the counter, to the tiny little bone with it's winged flanges, him holding one end, the other offered out like a promise (or a wish)

you've pulled so many between you that you've lost count of how many wishes you've made, until you're laughing and complaining that you're running out of things to wish for

"what do you wish for?" you ask one day, when you've tugged and sanji gets the wish, to which he only looks at you and says, "always the same thing, actually. always... just another day with you."

[paintedonmyteeth]

Pyramid Head thoughts 🩸🔪 △

Catering this to myself and my hornee NEEDS and anybody else’s ig because I’m a dirty boy rn and I have too many thoughts in my head revolving around my man and I need to spill my guts before I lose this precious brain rot. Oh yeah this got some nsfw shit (it’s gonna be like further down so MDNI) so be sure to read at your risk, and don’t mind the occasional out of context shit bc that’s just my comments and me giggling so hard abt this fine mfer— this was pretty fun to make too ngl, I might do more in the future if I ever get anymore ideas from things or from people, Idk we’ll see.

Pyramid Head’s possessive asf over his s/o, when you’re living inside a hellhole of a town full of monsters and a cult run by a bunch of lunatics, who else is gonna protect your ass none other than this 7’0” deity??? Man wouldn’t even hesitate to kill anybody or anything that came way too close to you.

Man’s not even gonna let you out of his sight for a second, wherever the hell you’re going he’s coming with you, you’re a fragile little thing after all. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to you, not on his watch.

The size diff between you and Pyramid Head is endearing as well as arousing just thinking about how he could manhandle you into any positions he wants and watch you struggle to take him in. You’re just so short compared to him, he finds it cute. <3

It’s fun to carry you around everywhere he goes because of how short you are compared to him. Doesn’t matter if you get a say in this or not, he’s gonna carry you whenever the hell he pleases and he’ll never let go.

Pyramid Head would’ve associated you with the colour white and some times gives you white clothing because you’re pure and the only non-sinner in this shit hole of a town.

Who the fuck needs a bed when you have Pyramid Head??? Hell, he’d probably prefer you to sleep on top of him so he could hold you in your sleep and protect you from all the dangers of Silent Hill. Not to mention he’d like the feeling of how squishy you are in his embrace, particularly your thighs, he likes wrapping his hands on them and squishing them gently in your sleep. Might be a form of comfort saying “I’m here, everything’s okay”, or he’s just admiring them. Who would’ve thought a large monster living on violence and inflicting pain on sinners would be so gentle with you? (Unless you wanted him to roughen you up a little of course then by all means, he’ll fuckin’ do it.) >:))

Because Pyramid Head only exists in Silent Hill and doesn’t know a lot about the outside world, it’s rather adorable watching him get all confused with that head tilt of his whenever you explain certain things to him couples do on a regular basis besides sex, but he does show some curiosity on said topic and possibly willing to do those things with you as well.

Pyramid Head enjoys receiving attention from you, be it either hugs from behind or give him kisses on his helmet or the tongue— anywhere else is prolly gonna give him some other ideas of sorts, rnskfbsjfbw.

OH BOY the fucking dirty brain rot persists. If this man ever happened to be feeling horny he honestly wouldn’t hesitate taking your clothes off in one tear the second he has your consent.

Did I mention abt the size diff last time? Making you take in his cock nice and slow isn’t gonna do much, he’d want you to get over with the pain fairly quick so he’ll just push it in without warning lmao, of course once he’s in, he’ll allow you a brief moment to adjust to his size and once you’re all good he’s going to pound the fucking daylights out of you.

AGAIN WITH THE SIZE DIFF it’s just so satisfying and enjoyable to him watching you writhing and moaning underneath him like that, accounting to that just seeing you stuffed full of his come and utterly blissed out is adorable. (Like man I— let him rail me already PLEASEE)

And he’s for sure going to tease the fuck out of you to overstimulation until your mind is nothing but a puddle of mush and you’re begging for him. <33

Aftercare in the end is amazing, he’ll help clean you up by fucking eating you out with his tongue and then he’ll lay there with you in his arms, with a blanket big enough pulled over top to cover the both of you while you snuggle up in the mean time. A possible guarantee you’re gonna have a blast trying to walk in the morning./j

🥩⋆♱✮♱⋆🔪 🩸

[tojisth3rdwife]

So i'm laying here sick as hell..

Thinking about the time I read somewhere that one of men’s “secrets” when it comes to women is how much they enjoy having sex with us when we’re sick (like cold/flu sick) because of how warm it gets down there….

And I immediately thought of Satoru mf Gojo.

cw: just suggestive/flirty Gojo. My sick brain cant do smut rn..maybe later tho

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satoru leaned against the doorframe of the shared bedroom, arms crossed and a playful smirk dancing on his lips. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting a warm light that mirrored the radiance of the girl nestled under the covers. You looked fragile, cheeks flushed from the fever, creating an almost ethereal beauty that made his heart ache. Of course, you just thought you looked exactly how you felt.

Like shit.

“How are you feeling over there sweetcheeks?” he asked, stepping inside, his voice a mix of concern and teasing.

You glanced up at him, your normally vibrant eyes dulled by fatigue but still managing to sparkle with mischief.

“Like I’m about to be put on trial for crimes against my immune system,” you replied, your voice sounding off due to the congestion, a weak smile breaking through the haze of discomfort.

Satoru chuckled, moving closer. “You know I’m the best lawyer in town. I could get you out of this.” He sat on the edge of the bed, letting his fingers brush against your forehead, feeling the heat radiating from your skin. He fails to control the way his face wrinkles up in a grimace.

“You’re burning up, baby..”

You just closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. “Yeah well, no shit, it’s not exactly a spa day over here. Unless you wanna get sick too, I suggest you keep your distance. Infinity dont work against germs..”

Although, you don't know why you bothered when he didn't give a damn. Getting sick meant he got to spend more time at home with you, and less time being pulled around like a puppet by the higher ups.

“Maybe not,” he said, ignoring your warning with teasing lilt to his voice.

“But you’re definitely warming me up.” He leaned in closer, the playful glint in his eye shifting to something more serious as he studied you with those gleaming blue eyes. You wanted to turn away and hide from him under the covers, knowing damn well you were probably all crusty and sweaty from being curled up in the bed all day, but Satoru didnt seem affected by it. He looked at you the way he always did. Like he was hungry.

“You know, you’re really cute when you’re all feverish like this.”

You opened your eyes, rolling them playfully, but the corners of your mouth twitched up because you knew him too well.

“You’re terrible.”

“But you love it,” he replied, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

He shifted, leaning closer, and you could feel the warmth radiating off his body, mixing with your own feverish heat.

“I mean, come on. Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?” He gestured to himself dramatically, earning a laugh from you that inevitably turned into a cough. You immediately turn away to cover your mouth with the back of your hand because that was just best you could do. Pain rattled in your chest with every heave, but you managed to find your breath soon as your boyfriend regarded you warrily.

“Smooth, Toru. Really smooth,” you said, your tone laced with sarcasm and discomfort, but the faint squeak in your voice made you sound even more pitifully adorable.

“Just stating facts.” He leaned against the headboard slightly, contemplating. Since he was there and showed no signs of leaving, you allowed yourself to get cozy on him, clinging to his long form like he was your body pillow and resting your face on his chest. Satoru hugged you closer to him, his cool hands running up and down your back until one of them slipped under the hoodie you were wearing. Likely one of his. Your skin blazed under his gentle touch, the insulated garment trapping all your body heat and creating a cacoon of warmth.

He then pressed his lips on your forehead, the sign of affection also serving as a way to check your fever.

“When was the last time you checked your temp?”

You shrugged weakly.

“Mmm not long ago. Said 101.4 but I just feel cold. I took some medicine though..”

Satoru hummed back, kissing your forehead once more. A few more beats of comfortable silence passed as you cuddled against your clingy boyfriend, the pace of his relaxed heartbeat and the faint volume of your TV on in the distance damn near lulling you back to sleep.

That would have been too perfect of course.

“You know…they say fevers make you feel warmer inside and out, right? I could help with that.” His tone turned playful again, but there was an underlying sincerity that made your heart race. That, and the very unsubtle way Satoru’s fingers were toying with the clasps of your bra underneath the hoodie.

“Is that your way of saying you want to…Uh uhn..” you finish the sentence in your head as you attempt to wriggle free of his embrace.

“What??” he laughed, feigning innocence but not letting you pull away completely.

“You know what..everytime I get sick, you come in here tryna fuck on me. Freaky ass..” you mutter, ultimately giving up on moving away from him. You were just too comfortable.

“Okay, but hear me out..” he interrupted, a glimmer of mischief in his voice.

“You dont know how warm and wet you get down there when you have a fever…It’s insane. And you never tell me no so who’s the freak here?”

“Still you.” You mutter against his sternum, hiding your little smirk.

As depraved as it might sound, you could just about imagine how warm your pussy felt to Satoru when your internal temperature was a little less than half way hot enough to boil water. And the way your entire body ached, you just knew your pussy felt more tender than usual, increasing your sensitivity and arousal when stimulated.

Who were you kidding? Having sex with Satoru in any condition felt good to you so you could imagine why he was so eager to be inside you if the feeling was mutual. If not better.

“Plus..It’s scientifically proven that skin-to-skin contact can help regulate body temperature. So really, I’m just trying to be a good boyfriend here.”

“So….youre suggesting I get naked?”

Satoru shakes his head, still as playful as ever.

“I'm suggesting we both get naked and just see what happens from there.” He responds nonchalantly.

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto your face. “Uh-huh. And how does that help me again?”

“Think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement,” he suggested, shifting his position for him to look at you, foreheads almost touching. “You get my warmth, and I get to be close to you. You get to cum. I get to cum. I know your entire body is aching right now and an orgasm or two might cure that.” He lowered his voice, a hint of sincerity creeping in.

“I just want to make you feel better, baby..” he adds, caressing your cheek and rubbing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip.

You lifted your head and your breathing hitched at the intensity of his gaze, the warmth radiating from him drawing you in.

“You're insatiable, you know that?” You scoff, heart fluttering at his usual boldness.

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied softly, his playful demeanor shifting to one of genuine affection. He reached out, tucking a loose curly strand of hair back under your satin scarf.

“But I wouldn’t want to push you. If you’re not feeling up for it…”

“Nah nah,” you interrupted, a spark of determination in your eyes.

“Don't try to backpedal. I require your warmth and a few orgasms for medical reasons, Dr. Gojo. So come up off it..” you joke and Satoru’s grin widened, filled with both mischief and tenderness.

“That’s the spirit!”

With that, he quickly shed his clothes and helped you out of the hoodie ( that turned out to be his) , and slipped under the covers beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

The heat enveloped you both, literally and sexually. And for a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the comfort of each other’s presence.

[kooggukk]

epilogue - jjk

💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

word count: maybe 1k..

contains: argument, break up, jk is stubborn but got a point ngl..

myth - beach house

note: im hurting rn so ima make yall hurt too, xo

the rain poured in relentless sheets, wrapping the empty road in a suffocating shroud of cold. it had been days since your fight, but it felt like an eternity. you stood across from jungkook, your entire body trembling, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from the storm raging between you.

jungkook wasn’t the kind of man who raised his voice often. he was quiet, a fortress, built tall and unyielding by years of learning to survive on his own. growing up in a household where love came with conditions and apologies were unheard of, he learned to bury his feelings beneath stubborn silence. to him, love had always been a fragile thing — beautiful but fleeting, easily shattered if he didn’t protect it.

you, on the other hand, wore your heart on your sleeve. you grew up believing that love was something you fought for, something worth breaking yourself open to hold onto. your parents had shown you that fights didn’t mean endings — they meant growth. but jungkook wasn’t like your parents. he didn’t fight. he fled. and it had always been this way.

your fights were rare, but when they happened, they were devastating. jungkook’s instinct was always to retreat, to withdraw into himself, leaving you to desperately try to climb the walls he put up. this fight had been no different.

it started over something small, like most of your arguments did. he had canceled on your dinner plans for the third time in a month. “i’m just tired,” he’d said over the phone, his voice detached. but you knew better. you knew the distance between you wasn’t just physical. it was emotional, growing like a chasm you couldn’t bridge.

“why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” you had demanded, your voice shaking with frustration. “why do you always shut me out?”

“i’m not shutting you out, ___,” he had replied, his tone clipped. “not everything needs to be a conversation.”

that had been the spark, and the fire had spread quickly. accusations were hurled, old wounds reopened. you accused him of running away from your problems, and he accused you of always needing to fix things that didn’t need fixing. he’d hung up on you, and since then, every call and text you sent had gone unanswered.

now, here you were, standing in the middle of a storm, the distance between you feeling insurmountable despite being only a few feet apart.

“say something, jungkook,” you pleaded, your voice trembling as tears mixed with the rain on your cheeks. “please. don’t just stand there.”

his head hung low, his hair plastered to his face, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. he looked like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. finally, he raised his head, his eyes meeting yours, filled with so much pain it made your breath hitch.

“what do you want me to say, ___?” he said, his voice low and raw. “that i’m sorry? that i regret everything? because i do. but it doesn’t change anything.”

“of course it changes everything!” you shot back, stepping closer, your fists clenched. “we can fix this. we always fix this.”

jungkook shook his head, his jaw tightening. “not this time,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “not this time, ___.”

“why not?” you demanded, your voice rising. “why can’t we fix this? tell me, jungkook. give me one good reason.”

he hesitated, his eyes flickering with hesitation before he looked away. “because i’m tired,” he finally admitted, his voice cracking. “i’m tired of fighting. i’m tired of hurting you. i’m tired of being the person who always drags you down.”

“you don’t drag me down,” you said, your voice trembling as you stepped closer, your heart breaking with every word he spoke. “you lift me up. even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. you’re everything to me, jungkook.”

“and you’re everything to me,” he said, his voice barely audible over the rain. “that’s why i have to let you go.”

your breath caught, the pain of his words cutting through you like a knife. “no,” you whispered, shaking your head. “you don’t mean that. you can’t mean that.”

“i do,” he said, his voice breaking. “because i don’t know how to love you without ruining you. i don’t know how to stop myself from pushing you away when things get hard. and you shouldn’t have to keep breaking yourself to hold us together.”

you reached for him then, grabbing the front of his shirt, your tears falling freely. “you’re not ruining me, jungkook. you’re not breaking me. but you are breaking us. stop this. stop running away.”

“i can’t,” he whispered, his hands covering yours for a brief moment before he gently pulled them away. “because if i stay, i’ll only hurt you more. and i can’t live with that.”

your knees felt weak, your body trembling as you watched him step back. “jungkook, please,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “don’t do this. don’t walk away.”

he hesitated for a moment, his entire body shaking as he looked at you, his eyes filled with tears. “i’ll love you forever, ___,” he said, his voice trembling. “but sometimes, love isn’t enough.”

and then, he turned and walked away.

you stood frozen in the rain, your arms wrapped around yourself as his figure disappeared into the darkness. you wanted to chase after him, to scream, to beg him to come back. but you didn’t. because deep down, you knew this wasn’t just a fight. this was the end.

the storm began to die down, the rain slowing to a drizzle, but the ache in your chest didn’t fade. and as you stood there, alone under the flickering streetlamp, you realized that some people aren’t meant to stay in your life, no matter how much you love them. sometimes, the greatest act of love is letting go.

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Pool party.

Summary: You visit the hotel pool with your boyfriends, expecting a relaxing end of your day. Turns out you were totally wrong about the relaxing part.

Word count: 1.8k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: OT8 x female!reader, San x female!reader

Warnings: pool sex, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, degradation, dirty talk, cum, unprotected sex, begging, this is just really filthy (let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: I’m supposed to be working on my requests rn but I couldn’t help it. If you have a complaint, direct it to San. I’m not sorry (ok maybe a little but i beg yall to be patient with me haha) SUFFER. Tagging @hwaightme @legohwa @hoshischeekss @yeosangsbiceps and @shinestarhwaa for this one. Die with me.

Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

Finishing the day off at the hotel’s pool? Sounded like a relaxing idea. So when your boyfriends asked you to join them, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. It was pretty late already and all of you were exhausted so you were sure it would be uneventful. But you were so wrong.

Pretty soon after you had arrived at the pool, everyone was minding their own business. Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Jongho made themselves comfortable on the pool loungers, Wooyoung and Yeosang were off the get some drinks and the rest, including you, slid into the pool.

The water was warm and since the pool was on the rooftop, the view was amazing. You rested your arms on the edge of the pool dreamingly staring into the night. You could hear Yunho and Mingi play fighting in the water behind you and Seonghwa’s calm voice as he talked to Hongjoong. A deep breath escaped your mouth as your body relaxed. It had been a while since all 9 of you could spend time together like this.

You laid your head onto your arms and closed your eyes when you suddenly felt arms wrap around your waist. You gasped, surprised by the sudden touch, making the man behind you giggle. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you Y/n.” San’s deep voice caused goosebumps all over your body. You let out a relieved sigh as you felt a soft kiss on your shoulder. You smiled lovingly as you turned around to face him but you didn’t expect the way he was looking at you. You had thought that he just wanted some cuddles, like most of the time, but his glance was different.

“San what-“ Before you could finish your sentence, he pulled you into a close hug, pressing his whole body tightly against yours. You inhaled sharply as you felt exactly why he was looking at you like that. You immediately wrapped your legs around him, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Y/n but this swimsuit makes you look like a goddess. And I bet I’m not the only one who noticed that.” He murmured against your neck. You could feel his shaking breath against your skin as you pressed him closer by tightening your legs around him. 

“Sorry for what?” Your cheeks were heating up. You knew that playing dumb would make this situation even worse but you couldn’t help it. You looked up from his shoulder to see Mingi swimming just a few meters away from you, obviously having no clue what was going on. You felt this familiar tingle in your belly which was slowly making its way between your legs, exactly where San’s bulge was pressed against. 

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your fingers nervously playing with the clasp of the fragile necklace he was wearing. 

“Oh Y/n don’t make me say it.” He responded harshly, pushing his hips forward. You whined into his skin as you felt one of his hands move down, fiddling with his swimming trunks. 

“Let’s see how long it will take until they notice.” He whispered into your ear while he rubbed his shaft against your crotch. Even though the fabric of your swimsuit was stopping him from directly touching you, it was driving you crazy. You were dripping wet already and it wasn’t from the water around you. 

To the outside it looked like San was just getting his usual cuddles but in reality you were shaking, trying not to make a noise as he rubbed his hardness against your clothed clit. 

“Please San…” You cried out quietly, making him chuckle deeply. You wanted to feel him inside of you. Wanted him to fill you up to the brim while you were surrounded by your clueless loved ones. Keeping it secret because you knew that if they noticed, it would turn into something even dirtier. You were glad enough that it was only the nine of you at the pool and no stranger was there to witness what might happen.

“Please what angel? I thought you didn’t know what I meant?” His back was turned to the others and your bottom halves were deep under the surface of the water. Otherwise the others would have already noticed the suspicious movement of San’s hips against yours. You pushed away from him slightly. 

Your hands wandered down his shoulders, over his chest, to his abs. San absorbed your every move, ignoring the sensation that was sent through his body by your touch. 

“Like what you see?” He growled, leaning in closer. He knew that he couldn’t kiss you. It would be too suspicious or well, it would cause the others to get curious. Instead he gently nibbled on your neck, knowing he would definitely be leaving a mark. 

He was driving you crazy. You wanted to moan out loud, wanted to beg for him to finally fuck you but you couldn’t. Your lips were pressed on each other firmly. Look normal, look normal, look normal. You thought while San pushed your swimsuit aside, one of his fingers disappearing between your warm folds.  

“Stay quiet angel.. we don’t want to be interrupted, do we?” You nodded firmly as another finger of his entered your warmth. You whined, a bit too loud, and immediately looked up in panic. But nobody seemed to notice. At least that’s what you thought until you met Yunho’s eyes. You cursed quietly. Everyone else was oblivious. Mingi was at the other side of the pool where Wooyoung and Yeosang were sitting with drinks in their hands and the other three were still sitting on the pool loungers. Only Yunho had separated himself from the group, now sitting in the corner opposite you, one hand on the edge of the pool, the other underwater. 

“What’s wrong?” San asked carefully removing his fingers from your entrance. 

“We have an audience.” You whispered into his ear, still keeping eye contact with Yunho. San giggled, stroking his own dick and pressing his tip against your clit. “Who is it?” He asked, preparing himself to glide deeper and fill you up. 

“Yunho.” You murmured, making sure that Yunho could read your lips. Making sure that he knew that you knew. “Well then… How about we give him a little show, angel?” San groaned before pushing his hips forward. You hissed as he slid against your walls, stretching you out. 

“San-ahhh..” Your legs were holding on to his hips tightly as he slowly started to move. And all of that happened without you breaking eye contact with Yunho. And the closer you watched him, the more obvious it became that his hand was not only underwater but inside of his trunks, moving up and down. 

“Does he like it?” San’s voice was breathy as he pumped into you. “Does he like watching as I fuck your tight little pussy?” His voice was low and filled with pure desire as his hands wandered higher, now caressing your breasts. His broad body was covering you almost completely but it was still visible that something had changed. If someone watched you closer it would be pretty obvious what you were doing now. But he didn’t care anymore.

It was his favorite poison. Feeling the stares and the jealousy on his back. Knowing that he had what everyone in the room wanted. “I bet he is stroking his big dick watching me fuck you dumb huh? Wishing it was him that was buried inside your throbbing cunt?” You threw your head back, whining as he picked up the speed. 

“San.. they are going to hear you..” You cried out as one of his hands slid down to harshly rub your clit. 

“So what? Don’t you think they enjoy watching? Like Yunho?” You had a hard time opening your eyes, your body overwhelmed with pleasure, but when you finally managed to, you choked on your own breath. It was not only one pair of eyes watching you now, it was seven. 

No need to hold back anymore.

“San please… harder!” You moaned out loud, causing their eyes to glow with this dangerous desire. You smirked satisfiedly.

“As you wish, my angel.” San smirked back at you. “I will make sure you’re prepared for what's to come after I’m done with you.” He grunted as he rammed his dick inside of you as hard as the water was allowing him to. And that’s when you locked eyes with Yunho again. He had moved out of the water, now sitting on the edge of the pool, displayed for everyone to see. 

He had pulled his dick out of his trunks and was stroking it vigorously. Sweat was running down his forehead while he panted loudly. Yunho loved being watched just as much as San did. One reason why either of them was usually the one to initiate it. 

Your attention was brought back to San by him growling at you. “Attention to me angel.”

You whined. All of this was too much for you. Feeling all those eyes on you while San’s dick was hitting all the right places put you close to the edge. You were clenching around him uncontrollably as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

“Please San.. make me cum. Show them how much of a whore I am, letting you fuck me right beside them..” You said, knowing exactly which buttons to press to make them go crazy. 

San was panting heavily, one from the exhaustion and two from his approaching orgasm. “Of course my angel. But don’t think it will be the last time that you’ve cum tonight.” He said, adjusting the speed of his fingers on your clit to his thrusts. And that’s what did it. 

With the next thrust, your body began to shake. Your whole body was tensing up before you saw stars. You were completely knocked out by the wave of pleasure that was hitting you, losing control over your body completely.

The next thing you felt was San gently pulling out of you. Multiple seconds must have passed because you felt his cum inside of you but didn’t remember to feel him cumming. When you looked around, still not grasping what just happened, you found Yunho lying on his back, covered in his own cum. 

San was holding you close, carrying you out of the pool after fixing his and your swimwear. 

“Are you back angel?” You nodded, your mind still foggy. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before placing you on one of the pool loungers. 

“Good because this isn’t over yet.”

—————-

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives @hoshischeekss

—————-

[artemisiatridentata]

Merry Christmas. just came across this wishlist I made last year and it still holds true

having the annual "my mom asked me to send her my christmas wishlist but i can't think of anything" crisis despair spiral, so in lieu of gifts, here's what I truly want:

my inspiration and insatiable spark to create art. I want it back. I don't know what i've been battling against these past several years - art block? severe depression? crippling fear and hatred of the way social media algorithms grind artists into dust? whatever it is, I hate this feeling. my hands feel lost. I want my pens to bleed again.

an end to the killing. all of it. take the bigots' power away. I just want them to stop killing trans people and queer people and I want cops to not exist so they can't kill anyone else and I want Israel to stop killing Palestinians and I want the US government to stop killing my disabled brothers and sisters and I want the Russian-Ukrainian war to end without anyone else dying and

the rainwater to be drinkable again

to not have to scrabble for survival in a world that is trying its damndest to be too expensive and dangerous to survive in, let alone thrive

i want to thrive. i want to live. And I want that for everyone else. I want to have my basic needs met for the rest of my life so I can focus on what matters to me - tending my garden, cooking food for my friends from the harvest, learning new skills like throwing better pottery and rowing bigger rapids and how to suture a wound and how to point a telescope at the crab nebula, hugging my friends and family more, teaching children about how wonderful this world is and how to get to know it better, talking to people about the rare books I work with, volunteering at the multicultural center, squandering an entire day wandering in and out of towering canyons, etc.

a few new tattoos

to not be allergic to cats

to be able to hug my grandma again

a radically different world in which we will successfully halt and even reverse the worst effects of climate change; a world in which historically marginalized voices are heard and heeded; a world where we never drove the lord god bird and the bramble cay melomys and the dutch alcon blue butterfly and so many more of our precious relatives to extinction; where no one has the power to take more than they need from others, so that every single person receives the care and the resources they need to live their best possible life.

to re-experience the feeling of drifting off to sleep in the back of my parents' car on the way home from a family dinner and to dimly feel myself being lifted out into a light rain and my dad's arms, and carried inside and carefully lain down on my bed, and to awaken the next morning feeling safe beyond measure

to pet my little childhood goat again and tell him that I love him and I'm sorry I couldn't save him

to forget and read Rebecca Elson's and Mary Oliver's and Joy Harjo's poetry for the first time

covid to have never happened, and for the 6.6 million people it's killed so far to still be alive and laughing with the people who love them

etc.

[voidspiraling]

Time to talk abt everyone’s fav toxic yaoi LukaTill!!! Wait whattttt??

Hello friends have you ever noticed the weird similarities the number one rookie and the ruler of the stage have? Cuz they’ve been rattling around in my pea sized brain for a while now. (They were also my first Alnst ship but that’s not relevant rn) I think their “relationship” with one another is interesting based on the crumbs we have so far. I wanted to look a little deeper at how they relate to each other. Bc out of everyone in the cast Luka and Till are the most mysterious. This isn’t really an analysis just me rambling abt these two.

Anywho let’s start from the beginning and to do that we have to rewatch the sweet dream MV!

This is the first “interaction” between LukaTill and what sparked my love for the ship in the first place (Sorry Ivan! I love u too tho!)

In this scene a young Till is confined in a room and is forced to watch videos of a young Luka. However the way these shots are framed it looks like Luka is watching Till. I say this bc when you watch the full video it ends with Luka burying his face into his knees to escape from the bright lights of the camera flash (it could be triggering a migraine since I think I read somewhere he gets chronic migraines) But when you switch scenes it ends on Luka looking at Till but Till’s eyes are covered.

Thematically I think this is meant to show how Luka is like a final boss that looms over Till looking down on him. Even though they’ve never met Luka has had some influence over Till’s upbringing. In fact Urak calls Till “the ultimate weapon” probably bc Till is meant to be Luka’s foil. Where Luka is fragile and elegant Till is resilient and rough. In fact Luka’s popularity actually increased the rate of pet human ownership. I took this shot to mean that what Luka represents and symbolizes had played a part in shaping Till. Remember Urak was trying to make Till obedient through violence, likely what Heperu did to Luka. We don’t know exactly how bad Luka was treated by his guardian but we can assume from the crumbs that we have that it was bad bad. Like Till levels of bad. I’m pretty sure Heperu stopped Luka’s heart when he rebelled and is overtly like “Luka is only perfect because I made him that way.” It’s such an awful thing to say and somehow as malicious as Urak saying “His talent is what kept him alive.”

So while we know that Till is aware of Luka, we aren’t given any insight on how he actually feels about Luka. But we can assume due to the pressure put on by his guardian he probably doesn’t like Luka and maybe even fears him.

We also know that Luka has had his eye on Till as well. This is the ending scene in R3 after Ivan sang abt his yearning for Till. Here Luka has completed a Rubik’s cube and is staring at the teal and red sides, these are Till’s colors. Teal for his eyes and red from his brand, Till is mostly seen wearing some type of red. I think that even from the beginning rounds Luka knew that he would face off against Till in the final round. I say this bc out of all the contestants in Alnst stage Till is the most musically gifted. (I’m talking abt in canon the actual singers are amazing) We see Till start to sing and write music sheets when he was a literal baby. He sang more than he spoke. And in most shots of Till in the garden he’s playing an instrument or writing in music sheet paper while the other kids played with each other.

Ivan mentions it in his R3 interview but Till is literally an artistic genius. I think his profile said he struggles in everything else, but in stuff like art and music he excels way beyond his peers. That’s why even though his vocals are rated criminally low (like c’mon akugetsu vocals are heavenly what are you aliens on) he has the fastest selling album and consistently tops the charts when he releases a song.

There was also a chart showing the market value of each contestant over a period of time as well as the strengths and weaknesses of each contestant. At the end of the graph Mizi and Sua we’re both around 60/100. Hyuna and Ivan were at 80/100. And Luka and Till were at 100/100 (Important to mention that Lukas graph was a straight line at 100 meanwhile Till’s graph went up and down like crazy before settling at 100). Basically Luka and Till were like the best of the best. The only flaw on their profile was that Luka was fragile due to his health and that Till was aggressive. Musically they were perfect. And Luka likely knew this. I interpreted this as even though Till hasn’t met Luka yet he is still being watched by him. Like a hunter vs prey situation. It also sets up the power dynamic between LukaTill early on.

Now let’s talk abt the artwork of Luka and Till.

Another similarity they have is in this art from the school AU. All the characters have a cute drawing like this with hearts in their pupils looking at the other half of their pair. IvanTill are looking at each other and Hyuluka are looking at each other. But the thing that jumped out to me was that Luka and Till are the only two without hearts in their eyes. If it was just one character I would just think it was a mistake, but the fact that it’s these two makes me think it’s intentional.

Also in this series IvanTill and Hyuluka are heavily focused on, it’s through these relationships that we the humanity of the characters. Yet in the artbook Luka rates his affection with Hyuna at 70% and Till rates his affection with Ivan at 70%. As we the series progresses we see how important Hyuna is to Luka and Ivan to Till. So why the lack of hearts and the 70% rating? Do Luka and Till love in the same way? Are they incapable of romantically loving someone? Do they distance themselves from their loved ones for fear of vulnerability? And why don’t we have their pov of the pivotal moments in their relationship? Like Till’s pov of the meteor shower scene and Luka’s pov abt hyunwoo’s death. There’s so much mystery surrounding them and how the love their most important person.

Let’s also talk abt this merch from Alnst stage. Sorry for the poor quality but I’ll try my best to explain my delusions. So something I wanted to point out is that here LukaTill are the only two seen with flowers and with gore. Luka is standing on a stage made from the corpse of the alien that looks like the moon and has purple roses. Meanwhile Till he is standing in the blood of Freddie the alien in his guitar that he killed, and it looks like green grass. Till has a red clematis flower crown. I thought it was interesting how here LukaTill have this contrasting them in their merch. Life vs death, Till is surrounded by blood while Luka is surround by bone. I think this is meant to show how they both cope with their situation. They both live in a dystopian society and to cope they have to revel in the bloodshed of it all. For Till it’s violently rebelling against the aliens, seen by the freshly spilled blood of an alien, and for Luka it’s about having a reputation of being more powerful than his opponent, so overpowering that they have no chance of surviving if they’re up against him, evident by the long decayed corpse of an alien.

However the flowers represent their softer side. I think at their natures they are actually very gentle people. For Till it’s more obvious that he’s a sweetheart you just need to read his birthday comic to know how cute and lovable he is. For Luka you have to reach a bit bc we rarely see any sides of him besides his ruler of the stage persona. But I think in his interview when they ask what his favorite part of Anakt garden was he said it was playing hide and seek with the other kids. I thought that was uncharacteristically sweet to say. I was expecting him to say the classes were good or the music theory was really interesting. But no. His favorite part of being in the garden was getting to play with the other kids. (I hate that Till died but my heart also feels bad for Luka ;-;)

Another thing I wanted to mention is that Till has a flower crown in his art while Luka has a rose with thorns in his merch art. I honestly thought they would be reversed since Luka is “crowned” ruler of the stage and Till is pretty spiky, pretty sure there was merch where he’s just a spike ball lol. They almost seem to be referencing each in some weird way. This is most likely a coincidence tho since the flower crown is suppose to represent Till’s attachment to the innocent fantasy of the past and I’m like 99% sure Luka is a reference to the little prince. (A book abt a blond haired kid and a rose you should read it you def won’t get depression from it) Still I thought it would be interesting to point out.

LukaTill also share a lot more similarities than even I realized when i was looking back at all the content we have so far. For example, they’re the only two characters we’ve seen play an instrument. Guitar and violin. In their early rounds they both overwhelmed their opponent and won by a landslide. The only reason they’re alive is because of their musical talent. They both got messed up hands Luka and his purple fingertips compared to Till with his bandaged ones. Their alien owners are literal trash who have no regard for their life in anyway (i feel like the other guardians weren’t as bad bc to my knowledge Ivan, Sua and Mizi didn’t have their life put in immediate danger. Meanwhile Luka’s owner stopped Luka’s heart as a punishment. And Till’s guardian just assaults him without any regard for his safety or blood loss.) There’s so many little details these two share despite the fact that they’re just suppose to be two characters that clash with each other. Like imagine if LukaTill was the ship that had more focus in the series. This stuff would’ve driven me nuts!

The point I’m trying to make is that while LukaTill are like polar opposites they are also really really similar. I wonder if Luka is what Till would’ve turned into if he lived long enough. And I wonder if Till is similar to a younger Luka.

Super excited for the next video Vivimeng puts out! I’m going back to grieving for Till cya.