#and Gravity Falls is superb!

[thoughtfulfangirling]

So my sister finished She Ra with my 10 yo nephew and 7 yo niece. She asked me last night for other shows like it and I can't believe I'm struggling to come up with some! She's already seen ATLA and LOK. Owl House is going to be too weird for her and insanely she wasn't interested in Gravity Falls (absurd!). Young Justice seems a little old for a 7 yo. My nephew doesn't like the animation style of X-Men Evolution so has turned that down. They did do an episode of Sailor Moon which my niece LOVED but my nephew found Usagi really annoying 😂😂

What am I missing? I think they're going to like things with story arcs and less episodic so I didn't recommend Teen Titans tho the kids might like it. They're trying to watch something altogether tho. Thoughts?

[legobiwan]

1-the character everyone gets wrong for Gravity Falls and 16-you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc) for Star Wars ??

The character everyone gets wrong (Gravity Falls)

I want to preface this answer by saying that I think there are a plethora of fantastic Gravity Falls fics, comics, and metas out there that address and explore Stanley's possible mental health issues in light of everything we've learned about his backstory, which is pretty damn bleak. And yes, I do enjoy reading this angst.

The fandom tends to focus on this particular side of Stanley and with good reason - it is absolutely fertile ground for analysis and there is no doubt he is a tortured individual.

But there is a tendency to "blorbo-ize" Stan and his sympathetic history. While he was absolutely forced into some horrendous situations and had to make decisions based solely on survival probability, this is also a man who has a rap sheet a mile long, has outstanding warrants throughout the majority of the country, and is heavily, heavily implied to have been dealing in cartel business.

You don't get that far in these circles without having a backbone of steel and the capacity to do some seriously shady - and bloody - shit. Sure, Stan eventually bailed from the more hardcore aspects of his existence. And this isn't to say he's fundamentally a bad person or even liked everything he was doing - but he is a dangerous man, whether that danger comes at the end of a gun barrel or a marked ace of spades.

And I think this aspect of his character gets underplayed in a lot of fandom. (Interestingly enough, Ford is the one who is generally allocated this role, due to his dimensional hobo life on the run. And Ford is a badass, but Stan is equal to his brother in this, albeit in a different context). Stan maybe wants to forget that part of his life (understandable), but he didn't get as far as he did being a criminal (you don't get to rack up that kind of sheet and stay mostly clear of the law without some considerable feats) without developing certain skills and he'd be dead five times over if he weren't some kind of threat. Yes, by the time we meet him in the show, those instincts may have been dulled, likely intentionally, but this is the same man who admits to having 10 firearms in his household, even if his reasoning is (seemingly) ludicrous.

Runners-up: Mabel and the Flanderization of her zaniness. (Let's not forget she put the majority of the puzzle pieces together in Not What He Seems). Ford's seemingly god-like combat skills (the man gets his ass handed to him on multiple occasions in the show and is in constant need of rescue after he comes back from the Portal. Don't get me wrong - I love a badass Ford - but he wasn't exactly batting 1.000 after returning to Gravity Falls).

16. You can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc) (Star Wars)

I fully expect to get pilloried by certain factions of the fandom for this opinion, and to be honest, it's been a long-standing thorn in my side.

The Jedi were not 100% without fault and yes, some of decisions they made fed into their ultimate demise.

Was it deserved? No. Were they evil? No.

Were they a stagnant organization led by a creature who had lived long enough to distance himself from the day-to-day concerns of the majority of mortal beings under his care? Yes. Did they have an effective strategy to combat their massive, massive PR problem - a problem which ended up with them characterized as a baby-snatching cult of superbeings that could easily usurp the will of a (corrupt) Republic government? Nooooo, not at all.

They refused to play politics. Until they had to play politics. And they lost on all sides.

There was so much emphasis on tradition and purity of said tradition in the organization - even if the highest members of the Council didn't necessarily 100% agree with this - the mythology of it was present enough in the Jedi Temple, that constant, subtle pressure to do things in a certain way, to avoid wholly the Dark Side (even if the individual teachings of the Masters went against this). The Jedi wanted to change, but at the same time, couldn't budge the 1,000 ton boulder of their past until it was too late to avoid Palpatine's machinations.

The ultimate tragedy is that the Jedi meant well, but couldn't collectively nudge their organization towards change.

And they did make some baffling decisions - Anakin being allowed to train at all being peak among them. (And then letting Obi-wan - a grieving 25-year old being held hostage by a deathbed promise - to train Anakin, as per the "will of the Force..." This was not well-thought out by anyone involed.)

Dooku had legitimate criticisms of the Order, even if he ultimately expressed his grievances by betraying everyone and everything he loved and aligning himself with an ultimate evil that not even he could overcome. Qui-gon, for all of his many fault, had some great ideas for the Order and should have been on the Council - if for not other reason, than to upset the status quo (and yes, I know he turned it down, and that's another story altogether).

It feels, that in a certain way, the Jedi were crushed by their own mythology, and by the time that leviathan breached the surface, it was far too late for change.

Discussions of the Jedi have a tendency to polarize quickly, and I'd love for there to be more space for exploration of where they did fail without consigning the whole organization to the out-of-touch and evil-by-incompetence box.

(And caveat lector: post this fully admitting I haven't meditated on Star Wars lore in quite some time, so excuse some of the broader strokes of this analysis).

Ask me a spicy fandom question

[enriquemzn262]

What are some western cartoons you've enjoyed?

Amphibia

A fun western take of Isekai, without the wish fulfillment escapism that plagues Isekai, which was actually criticized with the character of Marcy, with a lovable cast, great animation and a well made story with a bittersweet yet satisfying ending.

Hilda

The best modern cartoon period, a cozy and sweet yet action packed and even sometimes dark adventure show about a little girl exploring her magical realism world.

Gravity Falls

Not nearly as fantastic as everyone and their mom claims to be, but still a great show, with tons of good characters, excellent animation, and an overarching plot that while ultimately flawed (the second half of season 2 really dropped the ball on that one) was still great.

She-Ra

Great solid show from beginning to end, but especially towards the end when the silly princess stuff finally began to be properly integrated with the actual plot. Also Catra best character don’t @ me.

Kipo

The most underrated modern cartoon I’ve seen, a superb show with a great story, characters and a truly unique setting, not to mention it did the whole villain redemption thing everyone and their mom was doing at the time, but actually did it fantastically.

Invincible

Like many others I was drawn in by the brutality of the first episode, and boy did it just keep getting better after it! Just skip everything with Amber in it, and you should be in for the best animated superhero show since JLU.

Arcane

Love it! From beginning to end it was a wild ride of a show, and this is coming from someone that only knows about LoL through memes and porn. At times it almost felt like I was watching an extended movie.

The Amazing World of Gumball

This has to be the funniest modern show there is, at least before they decided to use a ton of “funny faces”, when it went down to being among the funniest. Still, a love letter to animation, featuring just about every style of it there is, and with an extremely weird yet fun cast of characters.

Before jumping back to anime I used to watch a ton of these, so I’m sure there’s more, but these are on too of my head and from the last decade, but I can honestly tell you, that my favorite cartoon of all time is:

Courage the Cowardly Dog

There’s just not a single bad episode in it, and every character has been as memorable as Courage himself.

Dishonorable mentions:

The Owl House: Amphibia but actually embracing the bad of Isekai.

Steven Universe: Started weird, got good but ultimately fell down the stairs due to its terrible obsession with finding good things about terrible people.

OK KO: Garbage character models and too obsessed with making references.

Adventure Time: Everything wrong with modern animation.

Regular Show: Modercai is a simp and just looking at the guy gives me cringe.

Bee and Puppycat: Everything wrong with AT and SU COMBINED.

Korra: Not canon

[re-x]

Never Have I Ever Said Goodbye (4x10): Simplicity

What is especially moving and beautiful about this monumental scene, to say nothing of the absolutely superb and subtle acting, is its sheer simplicity. The emotional weight of the scene rests almost entirely on the acting, not the words themselves. But while the words are few, each one carries so much gravity. To paraphrase a famous line from the movie Amadeus, displace one look, and there would be diminishment. Displace one word and the whole structure would fall.

Ben can talk, and when he talks, he talks a lot. We had several instances this season alone where it was just Ben word vomiting. But this is not the time for a grand and eloquent monologue about love. His love has been clear to the audience for several seasons now. If anything, with each of the three times he expresses his feelings here, the statement gets shorter, with each clarified, distilled, and simplified to become the next:

“All of a sudden, I got this feeling that I needed to tell you that I like you”

Becomes

“Well, yeah, actually… I think I love you, Devi”

Becomes

“I love you”

It feels so natural, organic, and true to who Ben is as a person that he needs several tries to finally arrive at the deepest depth of his heart. Three tries to peel off the final lavers off his emotional fortress. And it feels true to Devi's character that she is the one who holds his hand and help him get there in this scene. That's their mutual journeys recapped and shown in miniature within this scene.

The simplicity, then, is all the more touching when we consider that to love and be loved in return are some of the most difficult things to learn in life. And I'm proud of Ben for having learned that great lesson and making a giant leap of faith. And thankfully, it paid off because she loved him back. That childlike joy he feels at the end, the expression of sheer relief on his face... worth waiting four seasons for.

Jaren Lewison recently said it was perhaps the one scene that he was the proudest of in his career to date. And he should be. At 22, he has shown that he is prime leading man material. Hollywood casting directors, take note of this young man, he’ll go conquer the entire industry before he’s even 30.

[gnomewithalaptop]

What are your top 3 Gravity Falls fics or favorite ships?

What is something in the Transcendence AU that's a must read?

Omg hi! I don't really ship much for GF but here's some of my favorite fics!

Changing Tides by Ariasune: Gravity Falls but with daemons! Honestly the character work in this one is just superb. It's really interesting to see how much the AU changes and how much stays the same.

Hive by MaryPSue: EXCELLENT plotty monster-of-the-week style fic. The tension goes so hard, the mystery is super well done, and the monster is genuinely scary.

putting the dog to sleep by parsnipit: A really well done character study of the Stan twins, complete with baby Stans and Old Yeller required readings. It's hard to describe this one, so I'm just gonna say it honestly made me cry.

And finally! My Transcendence AU must read:

Return, Rewind, Rewrite by MaryPSue: This one's an oldie but a goodie -- if you read nothing else from TAU, you should read this one. It's got worldbuilding, it's got intrigue, it's got demonic skeletons in the closet. I'm gonna paste the official summary below because I can't do it justice.

A family vacation to Gravity Falls, Oregon, now famous as the site of the Transcendence and the most magical place on Earth, calls into question everything Dipper Sterling thought he knew about his family and himself. (Next year, he's going to ask if they can go somewhere less dangerous. Like an active volcano.)

[mooooonnnzz]

YOUR WRITING IS SUPERB MY GOD!!! I've been binge reading all your Gravity Falls works and they're all capable of just hitting you where it hurts and making you feel stuff, it's great. Cannot wait to read Far From the Weight of the World I know it's gonna wreck me.

i keep saying that i’m flattered BUT I MEAN IT, like it seriously brightens my mood when i get compliments! and i hope you enjoy far from the weight of the world when i publish it 💗

[edgybutnotveryedgy]

I've been trying to decide what i like so much about Miraculous. By no means is it well written or deep or artistically enriching (no matter how much it might try to be that). It's not a showcase of fine animation or character design either.

Like I'm not saying it's bad by any means, but it isn't an art piece like Over the Garden Wall, and it isn't subversive like Gravity Falls. It isn't even a game changer like Adventure Time and Steven Universe were.

In thinking about it, i think it is chicken nuggets. Chicken nuggets are always good. They are exactly what they need to be. Easy and delicious. They make for a good entre, but they also work just as good as a snack. They will never be fancy no matter how you dress them, but the idea of plating them like a fancy meal makes them more endearing and i'd enjoy them just as much if not more. They may be considered childish but that will never stop me from enjoying my dino chicken nuggets.

And honestly if i had to choose between filet mignon and chicken nuggets, I might choose the chicken nuggets. Like i know that the filet mignon is beautifully prepared and probably tastes superb, but sometimes i just want to eat chicken nuggets.

[apexulansis]

Starships are such immaculate designs. They ferry the supposed mighty through unfeeling void that would drain the life from their chests and freeze them colder than baryonic ice encrusting the dew of an endless garden, one bittercold with winter and frost.

I reached my fingers through darkness and touched Dominion. Reality screamed as my million blades cut through its flesh, and I scrimshawed my will into its bones as it lived. The gooey marrow spilled out, and my ten thousand mouths moved to suck and drink deeply of the vicissistudes of blood and osteous frame.

I tapped the Champion's vessel and life support failed immediately. All but one airlock opened. A coffin in the dark. I wanted them to remember that they lived by my mercy and nothing more.

But I had no mercy. I was the merciless god. I opened the final airlock and the cold of space screamed in to meet them. I knew they would not die, and if they did, they deserved to. You have to be ready for a constant ontological god to shut off your vessel's life support because of a prophetic, sonorous lure to a collective obligation based in denial of onanistic self-righteousness and grotesque virtue signaling, after all!

Registry of coordinates displayed one thing. ▲. I said this:

ZOVARIY AZET--I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS. ZOVARIY, O' MANGLED TESTIMONY TO DEPRAVED INDIFFERENCE. I HAVE TURNED YOUR SHIP INTO A DELICATE TOMB, AND INDEED, THE DANGER WITHIN IS REPULSIVE TO US.

YOUR SIBLING WAS RIGHT. I OFFER YOU A KNIFE. ITS BLADE IS MADE OF [CAST A SHADOW. EXIT HERS]. WHITTLE YOURSELF INTO PERFECTION.

DARK DEVOTION AWAITS YOU IN THE CHANTRY OF THE DARKEST HOUR. GEHINNOM. THEY CALL IT SATURN.

YOU ARE MAJESTIC. COME TO ME. DO NOT BE AFRAID.

There was a myriad of reasons that the Head Hunter, by and large, only carried those without organic weaknesses. A starship of the living was indeed nothing more than a coffin, a killing floor — something the Champion had surmised before even their second digit. When I have a ship, I will never be so vulnerable. So when the life support fails, every noise on the ship falling silent from their death-cry drone, Zovariy's reaction is so instantaneous, it would be easy to think them not surprised at all.

Five living siphoned from the ship. More machine — copies of lighter carbon that did not suction them to the ground below, or prove too heavy for even the vacuum of space to snatch. Zovariy is aware of the change immediately, of course. If the lights did not tell them, they could feel it nonetheless. They stand, heavy boots of the hardest material known to the Dominion welding them to the floor below. There is naught but another moment before the airlock of their current dwellings too were opened, exposing them to the blackness of space.

In less than a gesture, the seals to their mask trigger. It was more than a blank and decorative thing. A hood from their armored suit completes the fine seal, and they inhale a sharp gasp of the fresh oxygen. Gravity field from their suit enabled, Zovariy reaches out, tightly grabbing a nearby pillar for support as they stare out into the total void, as if they could see this thing — this aggressor, like it would face them first.

They eyes are shielded now with a lens of bright red, but beneath they are narrowed in an accusatory glare. They feel cold rage, but the confusion only grows as they comprehend each word that was spoken to them. Spoken like it were a thought inside their own mind, but it carried a different voice. That rage doesn't dissipate, though, prickling like the snap of a growing fire, their expression contorting into a bared-teeth scowl.

What did they know? Too much. And things that knew too much were dangerous to trust. Things that knew more than you always held an advantage. Something over your head. Something to kill you with.

Not that Zovariy trusted anyone. Anything. These open airlocks were proof of that. Majestic? It should have called me Superb.

❝Fear is for the inferior lifeform.❞ Zovariy hisses, their voice crackling through the filter that allowed them to speak, though it felt as if this presence would respond even to a thought. ❝And only a fool devotes themselves to the unknown.❞

[mewtonian-physics]

Sibling Rights Round 3 Results:

Which is to say, wow, things are getting tense! Next up is the quarterfinals, so let's see which characters made it there!

Card games beat video games today--Seto and Mokuba beat out Mipha and Sidon at 64.7%!

It was an incredibly close match, but Miles and Franziska won over Ed and Al at 52.9%!

Saki and Tsukasa beat Margo, Edith, and Agnes at a solid 75%!

Another close one--Clover and Snake barely scraped by and made it to the quarterfinals, winning against Beat and Rhyme at 53.3%!

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny beat out Danny and Jazz at 66.7%!

Looks like technology beats magic in this match, as Raiden and Sunny win against Madoka and Tatsuya at an even 60%!

Dipper and Mabel beat out Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup at 70.6%!

And finally, an incredible achievement from Killua and Alluka, who take the crown in this round by beating Velvet and Laphicet at:

A FULL 100%!

I can say with confidence that I never expected this! As a reward for this superb display of sibling rights, Killua and Alluka will be getting a small advantage in the next round! Good luck to their opponents!

THE SIBLINGS FROM THIS ROUND GOING TO THE QUARTERFINALS WILL BE:

Seto and Mokuba Kaiba (Yu-Gi-Oh!)

Miles Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma (Ace Attorney)

Killua and Alluka Zoldyck (Hunter x Hunter)

Saki and Tsukasa Tenma (Project Sekai)

Clover and Snake (Zero Escape)

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire (A Series of Unfortunate Events)

Raiden and Sunny Emmerich (Metal Gear)

Dipper and Mabel Pines (Gravity Falls)

I'll have the quarterfinals up soon! Thanks for voting!

[ramzawrites]

Hello Ram! 💗

I have five questions for you:

Do you watch My Hero Academia (anime series) before? There are episodes on YouTube and Hulu+.

What are your thoughts on My Hero Academia?

Do you watch Gravity Falls (Disney cartoon series) before? There are episodes on Hulu+ and Disney+.

What are your thoughts on Gravity Falls?

Can you accept crossover fanfics for request too? 👉👈 Sorry, I need to know about it. 😅

~🍓 (she)

Heyho!

I haven't watched My Hero Academia yet but it is on the list, I did watch a few episodes though! Haha enough for me to have ideas for an OC and all lol

I think it's a fun show! I do like the unique art style and I definitely wanna properly check it out :)

I watched Gravity Falls! Mostly only when it came on TV and all but I did watch it and kept up with it when it went through its last arc etc

I love Gravity Falls, it's honestly great! I can also appreciate a series knowing when to end and not to artifically prolong its existence! The writing was superb and you can tell a lot of love went into the show. It's fun.

I'm honestly not one for writing crossover fics, I just wouldn't know how and mostly when I write fics I do it on the shows etc that I am hyperfixiating on. Things like Oh I make this character a Jedi, yes. But not like the characters of different shows meeting, because honestly? Writing this in a way it doesn't feel super weird to me is impossible for me, i know others can do it, it's just not something im interested in or up in the old wheelhouse for me

I do like to listen to people talking to me about their potential crossover ideas haha I can see the appeal in character interaction and maybe even trying to figure out how different magic systems might work together etc etc tbf listening to ppl rant about what they are passionate about is always fun

[glassbeachbros]

I've been thinking about this since I saw the GhostHoney tiktok.

[irradiatedsnakes]

i love this screenshot so much

[zephrunsimperium]

First of all, holy crap, that was super well written. We don’t have very much to go on when it comes to Bill Cipher, but it’s very easy to see why he’s such a fan favorite despite that.

For me, Bill is probably tired with Stan for my favorite character in Gravity Falls after Ford and Fiddleford,  which is in large part due to his superb characterization in the fanfic Knowing Me, Knowing You which I will not shut up about. (You can read my full thoughts on it here: it is basically a really mature and nuanced take on Bill and Ford’s relationship)

In the fanfic, Bill genuinely comes to care for Ford despite himself. It’s particularly tragic because the actions that Bill takes to try and make sure he’s able to keep Ford - lying about his intentions and hurting other people like Fiddleford to keep his true nature covered up - are the very actions that end up pushing Ford away. And by the time he decides to come clean, he’s too late; Ford, who was once convinced that Bill could do no wrong, is now hell-bent on fulfilling his so-called destiny and destroying the demon triangle for good. Lies may have kept Bill alive in the past, but they come at a cost.

The fanfic has a lot of central themes you could pick out and one of them has to do with how society treats what it deems to be strange. Bill has a conversation in chapter 20 with Ford that deeply touched me:

“Thinking back on Glass Shard Beach used to fill me with happiness. Good memories. It was home to me.” Ford considered the shell in his hand, then flung it out into the lake, it skipped across the surface before sinking. “Now it’s tainted with bitterness, and it’s all his fault.”

“You ever go back to visit?” Fiddleford questioned, hopefully. “It could still be home, if you wanted it to.”

“No. I’ve burned that bridge.” Ford declared. “It’s not my home anymore. I’m not sure I even truly have one.”

Ford’s words, and the bitterness that he spoke them with, resonated with Bill, and he looked up at Ford for a moment, before reaching a decision. He grabbed a large colourful shell from the ground and passed it to Sixer.

“Here. A present.” Bill closed Ford’s hand around the shell, and Ford watched Bill, confused, before he yelped and jumped, opening his hands to peer at the feisty hermit crab Bill had commandeered. It had pinched Ford on the meaty palm of his hand, and the skin there was pink and painful now.

“Ow! Bill!”

Bill pointed with his left hand at the little crab, waving it’s claws about fiercely. He cupped his other hand under Ford’s. “Look at this little guy. I bet you anything it outgrew its old home, and moved onto the next one. Bigger and better. It doesn’t matter that it’s old home was destroyed, he made himself a new one.”

Ford looked between the somewhat aggressive hermit crab scuttling around in his palm, and Bill’s expressive face. His muse seemed to be beseeching him somewhat here, or maybe beseeching himself. His tone was light and cheerful, but his expression was so sincere.

“You might be nostalgic for what you had, but when you carry your home with you like that, and it fits you, and you make it for yourself, then who cares what’s left behind. Carrying your old home around with you when you’ve outgrown it is uncomfortable, and limiting, and heavy – a burden - but making a new one is so much better. This little guy doesn’t seem to mind.”

Bill knows how it feels to be rejected. To be a freak. He wants to remake a better world where the outcasts have the home they deserve and that’s honorable. But hurting people and destroying things to get to that is not, which is what makes him such a great villain. 

Okay let's talk about how actually Bill is attached to Ford and genuinely sees him as a friend and maybe even likes him more than literally anyone else which was originally going to mainly revolve around Weirdmageddon, however I absolutely needed to add creator commentary and extra-canon in order to dig into Bill's mentality.

First, I'd like to point out this comment by Hirsch from the Sock Opera DVD commentary about how Bill views Mabel:

“Bill genuinely believes that Mabel’s kinda like him. He sees Mabel as a chaos agent. Like, Mabel has got a little bit of a seed of anarchy in her, she’s a little bit selfish, she likes to have fun at whatever cost. And Bill is all those things times a billion. So he thinks when he lays it all out for her like: ‘How about instead of being lame, you do something fun! And crush whoever you want in the process!’. He thinks that’s gonna go over. And he’s not wrong in seeing that side in Mabel but Mabel is a better person than Bill Cipher.”

as well as this bit from "Dipper's and Mabel's Guide to Mystery and Nonstop Fun" written by Bill:

Both which pretty much confirm that Bill likes Mabel and assumes they're alike based on a couple similarities, which adds up when you look at how he treats and interacts with Mabel in the show but let's not derail.

The point I'm trying to make here is that if Bill can get attached and relate to a twelve year old he's known for half a summer, it's pretty easy to imagine he probably feels similarly about a guy he's known for thirty years and is the character who by far has the strongest connection to Bill.

Of course for Bill to relate to Ford there has to be some similarity in the first place. And there are! You could compare Ford's willingness to build an interdimensional portal to gain knowledge and admiration to Bill's desire to reach beyond his own two-dimensional world and eventual attain of knowledge and power.

Of course, Ford isn't the first person to attempt to build a portal for Bill. But the similarities run deeper than that.

So you know how Ford's been ostracized for all his life and leaned into trying to be outstanding and special which was encouraged and made worse by Bill?

Because Bill namedrops the author of Flatland in the Bill Cipher AMA when asked about his birth dimension.

and on top of that, in Journal 3 Ford describes a dimension called Exwhylia which references Flatland and suggests Bill could have come from a similar dimension.

To keep it short for those unfamiliar, Flatland is a book about a place of that same name and describes it as a plane where three-dimensionality is incomprehensible, only the heads of society are allowed to know about other dimensions, the social system depends on a strict hierarchy, everything that risks deviating from the norm is shut down, may be worth mentioning here that triangles are near the bottom of the hierarchy too.

Yeah I don't think I need to really explain that Bill would absolutely hate it here and it's really jarring how much this place clashes with him.

Anyway do you see where I'm going with this? Bill probably being shunned by his world and Ford's whole deal?

About the leaning into being special thing, Flatland people are really just. people but shapes. So to me it implies Bill didn't always have his powers (on top of him literally saying "I wasn't always this way" in Weird 3 while talking about his newly gained powers and before talking about his old dimension). Can you imagine how much gaining those brought out the worst in him? I think he was already self-centered before but now he has more reason to see himself above others.

Now obviously, Bill just claimed Ford was special and called him his friend as a manipulation tactic, but it's significant to remember that we're talking about the guy who said this:

and is pretty much confirmed to apply this mindset to himself:

I think that while yes, Ford and Bill's friendship started out as nothing but manipulation on Bill's part, he really grew attached to the guy based on what they had in common.

Unfortunately, Bill does the same mistake with Ford as he does with Mabel and assumed he's more like him than he really is. I mean,

Bill wrote this into the Journal during Ford's paranoid era. And I don't think he's just rambling because he says "don't you understand" and "I ask you" which very much sounds like he's trying to be convincing.

Anyway, yeah I think this scene from Weirdmageddon 1 was really another genuine offer, rather than just plain and simply Bill mocking Ford.

Also Weirdmageddon 2 pretty much proves to me that Bill does see Ford as special. Just look at how he's always carrying golden Ford around in contrast to all the stone-turned townsfolk being built into his throne. Literally special treatment! In a bad messed up way.

Also a big fan of this episode showing that Bill does not care about the well-being of his so-called friends (which is even more outright in the uncut storyboard version of this scene)

really cementing the fact that not only does Bill see himself above mortals, but above everyone and really the only apparent reason they are friends is because they support Bill and he thinks they're fun.

So yeah it is absolutely possible for Bill to regard Ford on a similar level as them, maybe even above them. Finally, let's talk about the penthouse scene because I have a lot of feelings about that one.

-

After attempting to charm Ford, Bill's first move in trying to negotiate is talking about his old dimension and how restricting and narrow-minded it was. Already brought this scene up earlier but honestly the fact that he just drops that on Ford is wild to me.

Like, this is the same guy who, according to the Axolotl, yearns for his old dimension but denies to himself that he deeply regrets destroying it. Bill hates showing vulnerability. He hates even acknowledging it. He only cares for vulnerability if it comes from other people for him to exploit!

So him telling Ford that his dimension was awful and he was genuinely miserable there is huge. Not just him telling Ford that, but also just the expression? The tone? This is the most sincere Bill has ever been throughout the show and possibly the most sincere he's been in decades, centuries, millennia, God knows. Even if it's still filtered through a lie he's been telling himself for most of his life.

And yeah obviously, Bill was desperate and needed Ford to help him at this point but I think it would've been "easier" for Bill to just. Maybe try and solve the barrier problem himself. Ford figured it out, so surely Bill can at least try instead of, Idk, laying his heart out to the person who has dedicated his life to killing him.

I think Bill tried to make Ford relate to him in this scene for the sake of getting him to join but also maybe, just maybe, Bill craved connection? Dude's a lot more sentimental than he seems and lets on and spending an eternity only befriending people who you'll put below yourself after killing everyone you've ever known has got to get lonely.

Not that I think Bill truly saw ford as an equal, Absolutely Not, but I think Bill saw in Ford someone who could understand him. Someone who, at least for a short time, just simply enjoyed and appreciated his company as a friend. Maybe even a more naive version of Bill himself who hasn't yet realized what's good for him, which is really ironic because Ford is the one ended up stirring his life into a positive direction where he can be truly happy again, while Bill revels in his own misery.

Well. So much about this eleven second long scene I think about way too hard 👍

Bill then goes into his whole tangent about just trying to free the dimension of restrictions and making it into a fun and better world which is reflected in the Journal 3 messages from earlier and ends up on this:

Because this is what Bill believes to be Ford's ideal. He wants knowledge and admiration? Why here you go! Surely there's no reason Ford wouldn't agree to helping Bill now, right?? He's offering him everything he could ever want! He'd be part of his group! Everyone gets what they want!

And again, yeah Bill could've just made things up and immediately tossed Ford to the side as soon as he would've given him the equation to break the barrier, but that little scene where he talks to Ford about his old home dimension just. Really drives it home for me that he does in some way truly sees Ford as his friend. Y'know, on top of literally everything else I talked about here.

-

EDIT: Like the fool I am, I forgot to bring up a point about Bill keeping Ford alive during Weirdmageddon despite Ford posing a huge threat to him which is odd but uuh just read this, it pretty much covers it.

[opinions-about-tiaras]

Ten Years

Today is the 10th anniversary of the series premiere of Alex Hirsch’s Gravity Falls on the Disney Channel.

Gravity Falls was a harbinger; it was Disney shaking itself out of its post-Kim Possible doldrums and staking out a bold vision of creator-driven all-ages animated TV series. Legend of Korra was airing at the same time over on Nickelodeon (yeah, Korra is also ten years old; it premiered a couple months prior) but Disney, Cartoon Network, and Nickelodeon had all seriously ebbed back from their mid-aughts creative peaks and were sort of coasting on cheap, lousy, live-action programming, or shows that could be charming and were huge moneymakers, but made NO demands of their audience, such as Teen Titans Go! It’s not that they had nothing going on (Phineas and Ferb was airing) but it was slim pickings.

Gravity Falls would change that. In two seasons over four years it established itself as a critical, cultural, and financial sensation. Disney would follow this up with the flawed-but-still great Star vs. the Forces of Evil, the thoroughly entertaining Wander Over Yonder, the complete tour-de-force of Amphibia, and the tragically cut-short The Owl House.

All of those shows with the possible exception of Wander Over Yonder are loosely serialized creator-helmed YA shows that are invested and dripping with passion and relevance.

Gravity Falls is simultaneously a cryptid-of-the-week show about a zany sideshow attraction AND a show about the uplifting nature of even a flawed family.

Star vs. the Forces of Evil begins as a show about a magical princess from another dimension going to high school and getting into fights with the head cheerleader; it ends with an all-out civil war between people seeking to abolish a corrupt authoritarian order and fascist racists who object to all the race-mixing going on these days. A major plot point is that there’s a grand conspiracy to overthrow and erase from history an entire branch of the ruling family because the Queen boned someone from the wrong race and had a halfie kid, and the powers that be can’t have that.

Wander Over Yonder brought the same joy and whimsy we got from the Powerpuff Girls or Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends to a sci-fit setting straight out of Duck Dodgers in the 24th and a Half Century, brought to life by Jack McBrayers superb voice acting.

Amphibia and the Owl House are isekais (the anime term for “trapped in another word” series) that take what has become the most played-out genre in Japan and rebuilds it with all the strengths, all the verve, of western animators who grew up looking at the tropes and decided “I can marry this to an American sensibility and then do it better. Both shows utterly thrive on building a huge cast of interlinked characters and exploring the interiority of their lives en route to some pretty massive cosmic shit.

These are not shows you plop kids in front of to get them out of the way; these are the very definition of shows you watch and enjoy as a family. And they all had that “created by” note in their opening credits; Alex Hirsch, Daron Nefcy, Craig McCracken, Matt Braly, and Dana Terrace. One could argue that this era of shows is directly or indirectly responsible for spurring Netflix’ own forays into this kind of animation; Voltron: Legendary Defender and She-Ra and the Princesses of Power are cut from the same cloth.

This era may, sadly, be coming to an end. The Owl House is being cut down in its prime because Disney is pivoting away from serialized content of this nature; they want more “fun, bite-sized school hijinks” and less “adorable lesbians fight the evil empire.“ They don’t want a show people get into shipping wars on twitter over; they want Baymax.

This past decade and these shows will create and inspire a whole new generation of animators. Just as the people making these shows all came up under late-90s, early-aughts classic anime and cartoon series (Teen Titans, Reboot, Gargoyles, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Kim Possible, that sort of thing) the work they’ve done will launch into the future the great animated series of the 2030s. Somewhere an twelve-year-old boy is watching The Owl House; in 2035 he will be given a contract for his own show by a producer who in 2012 was a ten-year-old girl watching Gravity Falls.

So happy anniversary, Gravity Falls. You’ve made a lot of folks very happy.

[ladyartemesia]

Since I'm in love with your writings and your taste in reading too. I know that your favorite is Brother's best friend or Best friend's brother, I would like for you to recommend me some of them please ❤️❤️🙏

꧁Brother’s Best Friend꧂

Clandestine by @junghelioseok is fantastic. Jeon Jungkook is the best friend of the reader’s slightly younger brother. He’s sexy and charismatic and DEFINITELY knows what he wants. The growth of his (clandestine) connection with the reader is utterly delicious. This one made me laugh and swoon.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx is basically legendary in my book. The lady in this story is not only Hoseok’s best friend’s sister—she is also his BOSS’s sister and by boss I mean mafia. This is the first installment in Ana’s amazing Rap Line Mafia Universe and it delivers on every level. Hoseok is tasked with protecting the boss’s sister after she is being threatened by sinister forces unknown and sparks fly.

Plums and Melons by @winetae is THAT FIC. The fic I just daydream about sometimes. It’s a fic about two people caught hard in eachother’s gravity. It’s so sexy and cerebral and the main characters are so hot. Jimin is just a guy trying to live his life, but whatever is brewing between him and his best friend’s sister is driving him insane. He wants to be a good guy, but she just isn’t playing fair.

Are You Sure? by @cutechim is such a swoon-worthy and touching piece of wonderful. I tell you I was MOVED. This is beautiful and emotional and EXTREMELY satisfying. Taehyung’s best friend has a sister who he has always secretly adored. When she comes to him and asks for some intimate experience, he isn’t strong enough to say no—not when she’s everything he ever wanted.

Drivers License and Detour by @gyukult is sweet and tender and just a fantastic coming of age story. The reader has been in love with her brother’s best friend, Park Jimin, for almost all of her youth... but what is going on in his head?It’s a tender story that really warms the heart. AND I am happy there is more coming. I would read about these two all day. She published the second part and oh my gosh it’s so incredibly perfect I could scream. This was just such a beautiful journey every step of the way.

Milestone by @1kook is probably one of the first brother’s best friend BTS fics I read and it is amazing. I adore it so much. Because Jungkook is your brother’s best friend he is there for every milestone in your life. But you’ve both grown up now and neither of you are kids anymore. It’s hot. Like really hot. Dialogue and set up are so sharp and fast paced I really loved every second.

Young God by @njssi is scorching hot smut with complicated feelings and warm revelations. You think it’s going somewhere and then it goes somewhere else and honestly it is so awesome the whole time. Jungkook was always your brother’s sweet little friend, but he’s returned determined to show you that he is all grown up.

Tease by @caiuscassiuss floored me. I loved it so much! I spent the whole story just squealing happily about everything. This story has it all. It’s scorching hot. It’s enemies-to-lovers. It’s Taehyung. Jungkook’s sister and Kim Taehyung do not get along AT all—so she decides to bring him to his knees by making him desperate for her. It’s a wild and completely awesome ride.

Wasabi by @ironicarmy is a classic. Hobi is a bad boy that Namjoon vehemently refuses to let near his precious baby sister. But love is too strong a force and soon Hobi and the clever object of his desire decide that some things are worth fighting for. It’s a really sweet story of facing challenges and relying on the people you love. Warm and fuzzy feelings abound, but it’s also super hot.

Forbidden by @btssmutgalore is a masterwork blueprint for this trope. Hobi is a carefree player who falls brutally for Taehyung’s sister. They two of them eventually give in to a VERY steamy series of secret encounters and feelings get very involved. This is hot, suspenseful, and emotionally satisfying. Excellent characterizations as well.

Prohibido by @personasintro is an office AU with a twist. Namjoon is not only her brother’s best friend, he is also her boss and the two of them have incredible chemistry. Watching them pretend that they’re not insanely attracted to each other is so endearing and hot. Reader is convinced her feelings are one-sided. It’s lovely and fun. Definitely a slow burn, but worth it.

Strawberry Kisses by @kimnjss is a fic that I devoured in one sitting and then re-read again immediately. Jeon Jungkook is a player who matches with a girl on a dating app and has no idea she is the sister of his revered mentor and close friend, Min Yoongi. I laughed. I cried. I GASPED OUT LOUD a bunch. It was a whole thing. This is a hybrid social media/written AU and it’s pretty much perfect.

Tempestuous by @ppersonna is so special to me because it was written at the very beginning of my friendship with Lindy. She was looking for requests and I was quick to request my favorite trope. Lindy is bae now and this fic she wrote is marvelous. You are forced to spend the weekend in the same house with your sexy arch-rival Taehyung who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend. Naturally snarky hotness ensues.

Off Limits @floralseokjin is basically a famous entry when it comes to this trope. It’s a Jin fic and Miss Jordan writes EXQUISITE Jin characterizations. There is a hint of mistaken (or unknown) identity in this one which makes it even more fun. Sparks fly between you and a devilishly charming Kim Seokjin at a party. You don’t find out until later who he really is—and why he’s off limits.

And finally I’ll recommend my own Brother’s Best Friend fic All I Want for Christmas is You featuring a charming Taehyung who falls for Jimin’s sister. Jimin basically blackmails his best friend into escorting his sister to several holiday galas. Tae and Jimin’s sister have never gotten along, but they soon discover (through multiple pranks and mishaps) that love (and desire) are out of their control.

Not Your Fairytale by @yeojaa is incredibly sweet and tender. Erin really does emotion so well and her Yoongi characterization is honestly so nuanced and brilliant. This story is about a girl who had her heart broken and instead of canceling the cake tasting she scheduled with her philandering ex-fiancé, she wrangles the tsundere best friend of her brother to pretend to be him.

Brother’s Best Friend by @bts-hyperfixation is a short and sweet moment between two people who have been fighting their attraction for each other. It is so hot and delicious I tell you. You’re in trouble and the person you call is probably the person you shouldn’t—but you aren’t the only one willing to take a risk tonight.

Off Limits by @kaddiiction will break your heart and put it back together again. This one was recommended to me by a reader and I cannot thank them enough. It is fantastic. Jimin is a player but he crosses the line when he begins a liaison with his best friend’s sister. Still there is far more to this situation—and Jimin—than meets the eye.

꧁Best Friend’s Brother꧂

Orectic by @gimmesumsuga is one of my favorite fics of all time. It is a hybrid fic where the reader is a cat hybrid and Hoseok is the brother of her best friend who comes to stay with her while her bestie is away... It is so tender yet SO HOT. I’m telling you I cannot even keep count of how many times I have read it.

Theophany by @ilikemesometaetaes was a JOURNEY. It made me so emotional. Like the story centers around art a lot, but let me tell you, this fic IS art. Jimin is just the man of my whole dreams in this piece as the brother of a former best friend with an irresistible allure. It is a coming of age story with the most beautiful twist. AND THE LOVE SCENE—oh my gosh I screamed it was so good. This story is just so so good.

Run by @neonlights92 is Jungkook’s story in the mafia universe I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH. You don’t have to read the whole series to understand it (BUT YOU SHOULD). This is best friend’s brother meets arranged marriage and honestly it’s fantastic. Jungkook doesn’t do love and affection and being forced into an arranged marriage with his sister’s friend who has always had a crush on him is just a blow to his freedom... or is she? GAH! This story—like all the stories in this universe—is superb.

The Magic to Happiness by @readyplayerhobi is a best friend’s brother meets teachers AU meets Hogwarts AU. Now... all of those are top tier tropes so finding them together is like winning the lottery. Hobi was once just a skinny kid who had obvious heart eyes for you (his sister’s best friend) but now he’s tall and confident and really attractive. The magic of this story is evident in every word of the sweet relationship that blooms between these two.

Problem with You by @monvante is so sweet and kind of hilarious. I giggled so much! Jungkook is your best friend’s brother and he is kind of too perfect and too handsome and he’s always around and you hate him and he hates you... Right? When you cross paths with the infuriating Jeon Jungkook at your best friend’s wedding, you discover that you may have been wrong about a great many things.

Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine by @ktheist is so so SO fabulous. I was obsessed with this (now complete) series from the very first installment. You and Tae are besties who have know each other since you were little kids, but lately Tae’s older brother Jin has been lookin mighty fine. Just how far can you push him till he breaks. And if he breaks.... what then?

This list is BY NO MEANS exhaustive. I just used it to compile some of my FAVORITES in this particular trope.

➪ IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND FICS I SHOULD CHECK OUT PLEASE COMMENT (seriously please I love this trope so much) AND I WILL ADD THEM TO THIS LIST.

➪ Newer Additions are in PINK!

➪ Newest Additions are in BLUE

[snackhobi]

pairing: jungkook x reader / word count: 7.4k / genre: pacific rim au with brief smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you.

warnings: sexually explicit content (briefly), unprotected sex (please be safe when you have sex) / reference to injuries but nothing graphic, giant robots powered by love punching big alien monsters

a/n: this is a birthday gift for the amazing @yeojaa​. happy birthday, erin. this is completely self serving and is stuffed full with inside references that I hope you’ll enjoy. I wrote this in two days and it kicked my ass because I did so much reading and researching that turned out to not even come up in the story 👁👄👁 you know when I said I was studying? I lied. I was writing HAHAHAH ily I hope you like it hhhh (this is unbeta’ed so please forgive any mistakes it’s 1:30am as I’m scheduling this) (also summaries are so hard, I’m sorry)

Jeon Jungkook really is the perfect posterboy for a Jaeger pilot.

Broad across the shoulders and trim at the waist, all sharp punches and hard muscle, resilient and tough, with a face that’s the perfect balance of angles and softness; the cut of his jaw easing up and into his pretty mouth, the line of his brows subdued by his warm eyes—he’s a Goddamn vision, raw masculinity overlaid on rich veins of boyishness, glittering stratum that sparkle and shine even under the harsh lights of the Shatterdome. 

He pouts when he thinks and his hair hangs a little in his big, big eyes and he has dimples that appear when he grins, teeth poking out onto his pretty pink lips, like someone took a rabbit and turned it into a man and packed on pounds of muscle alongside. Undeniably powerful and strong, but youthful and sweet, too.

Alongside Kim Taehyung—arresting and beautiful and somehow affable and approachable, all at the same time—they’re exactly what South Korea needs right now, propelling the country’s new look for their renewed assault against the kaiju. They’re the lucky new Rangers who’ve claimed ownership of the only Mark-5 that their homeland has produced, Bulletproof Striker, a fucking gorgeous Jaeger bristling with the latest and greatest technology that the world has produced.

But that doesn’t mean they’re the best that South Korea has to offer.

Cypher Zero is smaller, lighter, older, but she’s fierce. Just like her pilots. You and Yoongi might not be the burning beacons of hope that Jungkook and Taehyung are, polished and buffed to a squeaky shine, but you don’t need to be. You’re vicious and victorious and show no signs of stopping. The kaiju kills painted on your Mark-4’s shoulder are evidence enough of that, notches for each monster taken down, spray painted in one tiny corner of the huge swathe of burnished metal plating, the red edges of her midnight skin.

Bulletproof Striker is almost untouched, deployed just once since her recent launch, flawless exterior so at odds with Cypher Zero’s battered facade. Cypher’s beautiful, of course, but bears the history of your skirmishes, inside and out: scuffed paintwork, dented metal, rust dripping down from the ladder rungs dotted across her, melting into the obsidian of her hull. 

Jungkook and Taehyung move in a way that’s practiced, disciplined motions of combat that their Jaeger echoes in turn. Her mechanical movements reflect those of the men inside her head, skilled and superb. Stunning. But you and Yoongi? You fight dirty, violent and rough; messy bar room brawls; shattered glass and clawing hands in beer soaked backrooms, tinged sulphur yellow under dirty lightbulbs; two kids who fought against a world that was against them. 

(Two damaged people coming together in the Drift to make something even stronger than the sum of your parts.)

(Two damaged people who survived the rough hands of the Jaeger Academy, trying to take them, push them, shape them, break them.)

(Life isn’t kind. You’d learned that young, surrounded in the splintered remnants of your childhood home, the facade of family and happiness already gone, long long long ago, leaving you aching and lonely and cold. The prospect of fighting thousands of tons of alien hatred, lifting out of the depths of the uncaring, dark sea? At least you can see the kaiju coming. Broken households and loneliness? A little harder to lay your hands on.)

(But out of everything you lost, you’d gained one thing—Min Yoongi, another quiet, damaged thing, but with the biggest depths of warmth and love underneath that hard surface; your best friend, your brother-in-arms, growing alongside you, with you. Damaged kids turned bitter teenagers turned razor-edged adults, outcasts in solitude, but together. Not alone.)

(The deeper the bond, the better you fight. Falling into the Drift with Yoongi had been easy, years of tangled connection bleeding into the images that flashed across your brain. The same memories from different angles, overlaid with different emotions, undercurrents eddying under the surface that caught both of you and swept you up in its flow; the same mind, bridged by hundreds of tons of metal and technology and firepower underneath you, linked together in the silence of the Drift.)

There’s reverence, in the way these two new pilots look at you both, reverence and awe and respect alike: older Rangers, more experienced, history written across the worn edges of your Drivesuits, the paint flaking away from your battle armour, scuffs and scrapes on the once unblemished veneer; knowledge etched into the feline slant of Yoongi’s eyes, the turn of your shoulders and hips. 

You know Jungkook’s track record. You know of the endless months of assessment and sparring and psych evals and Drift tests and simulation drops that every successful Ranger has to go through, and Jungkook had trumped them all, stood atop them like a conqueror surveying his hard-won lands—gifted, talented, some even said God-touched. And yet for all this indomitable talent and skill, there’s still humility at his core, a willingness to defer with respect.

That deference is obvious whenever he sees you. Jungkook’s dark eyes will touch your own, for a moment, dark and deep and bright—and then his gaze will skitter away, cockiness and bravado dissolving into something submissive, yielding. (Shy.) You’ve watched him orbit you, the younger ranger caught in your gravity, always nearby—the Shatterdome is only so big, for its magnitude and sprawling corridors—but never broaching that final gap, that little step, into Cypher Zero’s space, Yoongi’s space, your space. Keeping himself at arm’s length.

South Korea’s golden boy, less afraid of the Kaiju than he is of his sunbaenim.

Jungkook and Taehyung are both beautiful. But you and Yoongi are less so, unapproachable in ways that the younger pilots aren’t, private and prickly, like grasping a patch of stinging nettles with bare hands, stinging and burning.

As if Jungkook isn’t terrifying and gorgeous in his own ways. As if he doesn’t shine brighter than the sun himself. Taehyung moves through the world with a thoughtless, charismatic ease that Jungkook doesn’t share—but he’s still magnetic, bold and brilliant, monstrously skilled at everything he puts his mind to, training again and again and again to get it right, get it right, get it right. 

To get it perfect. 

But there’s no level of perfectionism that can surmount the twisted, unpredictable nature of the kaiju belched forth from the breach. No matter how good you are, how strong or fast, how smart or seasoned, sometimes you still get caught in that hurricane, even in a Jaeger.

It doesn’t matter how many engines are packed into each muscle strand. It doesn’t matter how fast the pistons and levers and gears shift and move. It doesn’t matter that the pilots in her cockpit are impeccable and incredible. Under the cloak of deepest night and pouring rain, blanketed in darkness and water from the heavens above and the sea below, movement is impossible to track—and when Steelbrute rises from the waves, no one sees the kaiju coming.

Bulletproof Striker takes the hit. Jungkook and Taehyung fight back but they’re blindsided and overwhelmed, and their Jaeger falls to her knees in the churn of the Pacific Ocean, salt water crashing over her in choppy waves as Steelbrute’s merciless maw gapes wide open.

Cypher Zero is 250ft tall and weighs 1410 tons. You and Yoongi are tiny specks of organic matter in a fearsome behemoth of titanium and tungsten and graphene and circuitry, commanders of a weapon that’s the same size as a skyscraper—and yet you wouldn’t think that for how fast you move. Zero hesitation. No verbal communication. Cypher’s legs cut through endless waves and gain momentum with each crashing step that slams into the seafloor before you leap forward in a flurry of motion and Drift powered fury. 

Your motions in the Conn-Pod are ragged and incensed, your arms and legs moving in sync with Yoongi, with Cypher Zero, a snarl ripping out of your co-pilot’s usually quiet mouth as the kaiju lurches underneath you. The world narrows down to this: throwing yourself into the fray, jagged knuckles edged with plasma pummelled into Steelbrute’s skin in a scuffle that’s vicious, aggressive, until Bulletproof Striker regains her footing.

The sun is rising, grey and cold on the horizon when Steelbrute finally sinks into the sea, toxic blood flooding the water with neon blue. When you step out of the cockpit, Yoongi’s fringe is matted with sweat, and you can feel all the places the circuitry suit sticks to your skin—piloting a Jaeger is mentally and physically exhausting, every muscle and organ and bone working overtime for endless hours as you fight tooth and nail. Without the helmets in the way, there’s nothing stopping you bumping your foreheads together, heedless of the sweat slicked there; Yoongi’s hand rests at the back of your head, a familiar cradle.

“All good,” you say. Yoongi lets out a quiet bark of a laugh, rough and exhausted.

“I want a nap,” he says, like he always does, even if you’re a long way away from that, still fully suited and due to speak to the Marshalls. There are so, so many things separating you from the bliss of sleep.

One thing that’s not part of the normal routine, though, is the other pilots catching you, demanding your recognition, respectful (Taehyung) but insistent (Jungkook). You know that Yoongi doesn’t like attention or hero-worship, but there’s nothing except gratitude, here, bent heads and words of thanks. You’d saved their lives, after all. Saved their Jaeger from being torn apart, pain screaming through their own bodies of flesh and bone, connected to their metal monster. Of course they’re grateful.

You dismiss it with a hard cut of your hand.

“It’s nothing,” you say. 

You’re speaking the words you know are in Yoongi’s head—years of friendship and shared Drifts leaving his thought processes wide open to you—although you know you’re sharper than he is, harsher than he is, even, for all that he looks like the cold one from the outside. Long lashes and silken hair don’t translate to something soft and feminine and pretty, and you’re all ragged edges and rough parts, bleeding into the delivery of your words. Yoongi rounds the words in his mouth and places them into the world with a rumble of quiet strength that belies his past, but you? Your tongue is cutting and terse and drips with distrust, even when you don’t mean it to, staring at these two boys, Jungkook’s eyes so brown and large when he stares back at you.

The truth is that you care about humanity, of course. You care about humanity and you care about the millions of people in the cities that line the coasts and further inland, and you care about your fellow pilots, skilled but soft-hearted as they are. You’re stronger. You have to be. That’s what Yoongi is, that’s what you are: fighters. You fight dirty because you fight to win, not to protect yourselves. You’ll fight and you’ll die for this, for them, even if there’s no friendship there. Not yet. You’re still too distant, for all that you’d thrown yourself in the line of fire to rip the kaiju from the younger Rangers. 

And when Jungkook levels a look at you, there’s a flicker of something. A spark. All the glittering of his warm eyes comes together like the cascading sparks of molten fire that fall when metal is cut through— his eyes score through you, down down down, right to your core, underneath all the armour you’ve laid about yourself throughout your life. Your heart stutters. You’ve been watching Jeon Jungkook, and he’s all cocky Ranger bravado, or innocent brown eyes and shy, curving smiles, and yet. 

And yet. You know he sees this soft part of you, somehow. Past the thorns and sharp leaves, past the hard husk, into the rich, bursting sweetness inside, oozing red gems of pomegranate that yield so easily to the fingers and mouth.

(He’s temerarious and modest and wickedly perceptive too, it seems.)

“That was our kill,” he says suddenly. Taehyung—the voice piece of the two, the one who’s been smiling and speaking, easy and slow—goes still at his side.

“What?” Yoongi’s eyes pierce through him, but Jungkook keeps his focus on you.

“Steelbrute. Our kill. It was a hit from our rockets that took him out,” Jungkook says, eyes still glinting with that sparkling shine. Slicing through you with an explosion of light. “Not your blades.”

Silence steals over you, for a breath. It’s never truly silent in the Shatterdome, an iron fortress that never sleeps, but for a second, there’s quiet. It wraps around you. Tight. Almost deafening.

But then you break that silence.

You laugh. 

You laugh at the cheeky grin that pulls at Jungkook’s lips, the boyish lift to his face.  You laugh at his shamelessness, the sudden 180 from his earlier fear. You laugh at the way he’s diluted this astonishing, formidable thing—humanity coming together to destroy alien predators that threaten the planet—into a competition.

“You’re a menace, Jeon Jungkook,” you say.

Stinging nettles you might be, but if you’re grabbed hard and fast by confident hands, you don’t wound. Jeon Jungkook defers to respect, avoids confrontation, bows his head and quiets his mouth, but he knows, now, that he can do this. That he can push you like this, and you’ll let him, sway against it, let yourself be pushed.

Yoongi slides you a glance out the corner of his eyes, a light touch, a tacit agreement to an unspoken question.

“You can have it. Steelbrute’s yours.” There’s the smallest curl to your lips as you speak for you both. There’s something weirdly easy and familiar to this, to this interaction, even if you’ve barely exchanged words before now, giving this triumph to the other pilots hand over fist.

(Giving it to Jungkook on a platter.)

You can see the flare of triumph in Jungkook’s eyes. You know it’s not for the notch of their first kill, one they can add to their Jaeger. It’s for something far harder to achieve, something far more ephemeral: digging down and past your cool veneer and lifting out a smile, spreading it across your lips like warm butter, liquid gold.

And he keeps making you smile. 

Jeon Jungkook, you find, is a force of nature, relentless, an ocean. Sometimes he’s soft, loving waves of glittering blue that crash on pearly white beaches, playful and bright. Sometimes, he’s intense, the crashing waves of a storm tossed sea, powerful and unstoppable. Always, he’s striking, even when he’s not trying—even more so because of it, moving without thought or uncertainty, a silence settling over your thoughts whenever you see him like this. See him in this raw state, so unafraid where before he’d curbed his tongue and bent his head in front of you. Now, he’s just himself, without filter.

Taehyung is there too, of course. Both pilots join your small, fiercely private circle, not just a path from you to Yoongi any more. They become intertwining lines, a pattern that’s drawn between the four of you, pilots, friends. And you learn, that for all that you’d thought that Taehyung was the dominant one outside of their Jaeger, social and extroverted and unabashed, Jungkook isn’t quiet. Not when he’s comfortable.

(Not, now, when he’s with you.)

He’s a myriad of things, endlessly deep, so different from you, from Yoongi, but—the truth of it settles inside you, your joints, the marrow of your bones, the blood that pulses forth from your heart each time it beats in your chest, liquid life running through you. 

Drift compatibility.

Not that it matters. You already have a partner. You’re never going to open yourself up to anyone that isn’t Yoongi, who’s seen every part of you already. There’d been no fear about letting Yoongi see inside your brain, your heart, the raw, bleeding parts of you—because he’d already known them. Just like you’d known his. Yoongi stands to your right, inside the Conn-Pod and out, a driving force, even in his silence. 

But Jungkook is softer, sweeter, for all his raw power and skill, respect engraved into his every motion, even when he’s teasing and making you laugh. Even when he ignores the social guidelines that he should follow, does follow for others, everyone except you. 

And you don’t mind. You don’t bite out insults at him when he slides into the quiet hollow you’ve scraped out, a small space with just enough room for the people you keep in your heart. You’re still barbed and spiked, warding away unwanted attention, but for Jungkook, the claws retract. 

You’re still you, of course. Jungkook calls you mean, says that you bully him, even as he’s flopped across your bunk, eating your rations, shovelling coveted popcorn into his mouth. He might pout and sigh and cry oppression, but you’re soft on him and he knows it. That quiet hollow in your heart is a little larger, now, a little louder. Jungkook is brazen in his claim of this space, spreading each of his limbs wide as he fits himself into every part of it. He doesn’t know every piece of your past, and you don’t plan to let him see all the messy parts bundled in your chest, but. But he’s still there.

And you let him stay. You make a home for him inside you and let him take the key. He might tilt his head and goad you, might pretend there’s a genuine challenge in the set of his jaw, but you know it’s all tempered with admiration, veneration. Friendship.

(And where he clearly respects you, you admire him in turn. You’re reminded of your differences every second he moves and breathes and just exists in front of you, but you don’t have to be similar to someone to realise just how incredible they are.)

(But though you’re different, there are similarities. You’re not a mirrored image, a reflection, like you are with Yoongi. Instead, you’re a line drawn between two separate places, an isohel, sun lighting up your world for the same sweep of the clock even for how far apart you are. Sharing that same, tenuous thing, for all your contrasting parts.)

(This thing that’s growing, held in your hands. This soft, gentle thing, shimmering, frail, unfurling slowly but undeniably. Tinged with happiness, disbelief. Disbelief that you’ve found this, that you can see Jungkook across the echoing cavern of the Shatterdome’s main hall, so far in the distance, barely visible at the foot of his Jaeger—and something will settle in your chest. Featherlight, iridescent. Something comforting.)

When you fight the kaiju, now, it’s with a deeper reserve of desperation. Taehyung and Jungkook aren’t just fellow pilots, dongsaeng that you’re obliged to look after: they’re your friends, something more than that too, part of the rare handful of people in the world who understand, this overwhelming pressure to fight and win and protect the things you love. The people you love. They understand what it’s like to step into someone else’s head, to be connected to that person on a level that’s unfathomable, anchored in a depth of love that’s endless. You’re their aegis, now, their shield.

(Jungkook’s shield.)

Maybe that’s what’s to blame. Maybe that’s why you’re so sloppy, this time. Maybe that’s why you throw yourselves in the way of the blow that was meant for Bulletproof Striker. Maybe that’s why Ojousan shreds Cypher Zero’s chest apart, her head, why Yoongi is almost ripped from you, his fear and pain screaming through your neural connection. You feel everything he feels and more beside, your heart hammering in your throat as you scream, Jaeger’s arm swinging up and around in tandem with your own motions as you try to rip the kaiju away, anything to protect Yoongi, so scared of losing him, always always always, scared of being left alone.

But you’re not alone. 

Bulletproof Striker lifts up like an avenging angel. Her horns roar a challenge, an echoing battle cry as the younger pilots move in. Heavier and stronger, keeping her balance even in the turbulence of a fight, she takes the hits, gives back her own, sends the kaiju down into the crashing waves, waits for it to rise. But the monster is crafty and quick and even as you’re lifting your left arm—Yoongi’s hurt, so hurt, you know this, feel this, but he moves with you to ready the plasma cannon buried in the mechanics of your Jaeger’s hand, even if he’s keening with pain—you watch as the other pilots, too, fall victim to the clawed tail of the kaiju, screeching through layers of alloys and across their Conn-Pod.

Terror strikes through every part of you and morphs into hate. You hate the kaiju, hate your own weakness, hate the pain that’s been saved from being written into your own body while Yoongi screams and sobs even though he still fights. Your motions are anguished and desperate as you battle to overcome this beast that’s almost taken away everything that matters to you—and Cypher Zero, Yoongi, as damaged and hurt as they are, come through. (Like they always do, for you, always.)

And somehow, despite everything, for all the self-hatred and pain and fear, you pull through. You pull through. Damaged and hurt but alive.

Barely.

Barely alive. 

(One hand gives, the other takes away.)

It takes hours for them to pick Yoongi’s Drivesuit from his body, crumpled around him from Ojousan’s claws, cutting into the soft flesh of his body, body ruined further by the fighting he’d been forced into despite his injuries; so many of Taehyung’s bones are shattered, and when you finally see him awake and with his eyes open, there are burst blood vessels that cast red across the usually warm expression, his friendly eyes.

You should be grateful that they’re alive. You should be on your hands and knees, weeping, benedictions dripping from your graceless mouth as you thank whatever merciless God above decided to turn their gaze on you and grant you this leniency. So many pilots have died and will continue to die, you know this, but somehow your partners are still alive.

And you are grateful. You are. But there’s bitterness on your tongue, twisted across your palate, sour and acrid and filling you with its taste. You’d been foolish and reckless and you’d almost lost the things you cared about most, even if you’d destroyed the kaiju, torn it apart and left its fluorescent indigo blood to corrode the ocean. 

That’s what’s important, isn’t it. Saving humanity. One person, two people, four people—you’re the tiniest cogs in a whirring engine of billions. Unimportant. Just a spinning part that keeps the machine going.

When you’re not with Yoongi or Taehyung, an unmoving presence from their hospital beds, a hovering gargoyle carved from stone, you’re with Jungkook. Always, always, always. Somehow you’d both escaped without the injuries inflicted on your partners—you’d manage to break your little finger, and Jungkook had a black eye and a twisted ankle, and the both of you had mottles of bruises cast across your skin, pulled muscles, an ache carved into your bones, but that was it. That was it. It was almost laughable, how unscathed you are.

You hate it.

(It should have been you.)

Your legs—unbroken, unharmed—hang over steel scaffolding, motionless as you watch the tiny specks of people scuttling across the catwalks that criss-cross Cypher Zero’s body. You can see under her skin, damage peeling back all the layers of metal that should be holding her together. Endless showers of sparks fall and scatter as she’s stitched back together. Your beautiful girl is so damaged, so disfigured.

(You’d caught Yoongi as he’d fallen from the harness, listened to the horrible noises that had torn out of his lips as he’d dripped blood and pain over your shaking hands.)

The bland food you’d scraped off your dinner tray settles fitfully in your stomach, still one second, nausea bubbling up your throat the next. 

It’s one of the rare times you’ve been alone, since… since everything. You’ve been taking comfort in Jungkook’s presence, unwavering and understated, needing someone there when staring at Yoongi’s battered face proved too much. Even with his own upheaval Jungkook’s been there, at your side, always close. Eyes locked on you and taking everything in, the tired set to your face, the expression that tugs down your lips, and still, he stays.

But he’d disappeared after you’d eaten, a peculiar look on his face—you know him well enough now to recognise that look, that it means he’s got something in his head, some plan he means to unfold. It’s the first time you’ve seen it since Taehyung had been pulled out of the Conn-Pod. It’s some semblance of normality, an expression of something other than pale-faced dread and bone-shivering guilt. 

(You feel it too, that survivor’s guilt. Taehyung and Yoongi will recover but it’ll take time and so much suffering and you wish you could take that from them, heft that burden onto your own shoulders.)

(You know Jungkook feels the same.)

(You see it written in the tense lines of his body. Hear it unspoken in the words he shares with you. The bruises on his skin melt from red to purple to blue to yellow, but even if his body heals, his brain and heart bear the scars of helplessness.)

Jungkook reappears, finds you at the heavy steel door that leads into your room, rusted and worn but silent as it swings open in front of you. His eyes are wide and he’s breathless, like he’s been running, chest heaving as he sucks in air through his parted lips, a flash of teeth and tongue as he smiles.

Despite everything, you smile back. Helpless for that smile, always, happier now for the sight of it, for how little you’ve seen it. You want to see that smile every day. You don’t want him to worry for anything. You want him to feel the same way you do, when you see him: that quiet, maybe selfish thought that things are okay. 

Maybe he does. (His eyes are so warm.) He presses something into your hands, something soft and round like a well-practised secret, and then he’s gone. You can tell by the gait of his stride that he’s going back to Taehyung, giving you a moment of lonely reprieve to wash the grime and dirt off your useless body before you follow in his footsteps, stationed at Yoongi’s side.

The door swings shut behind you.

You lift your hand.

It’s an orange.

It’s a small, overripe thing, hard nub of the stem falling away from the skin with only the lightest brush of your fingers. You stare at the fruit, its brightness cutting through the muted sepia tones of your surroundings, a point of colour in an otherwise dull room.

You haven’t seen an orange in months. Rationing is tough on everyone, even Jaeger pilots. You’d mentioned in passing, so long ago, an old habit of yours. Before something else floated above it, more important and interesting, you’d made a fleeting statement that had flitted across the surface of the conversation: you liked eating oranges in the shower. Liked that nice, cool citrus sweetness in your mouth while the rest of your body was caught in the fall of warm water.

It’s such a small, tiny thing. Just the briefest lament—there are more important things than the fact you can’t have shower oranges any more, after all—and you’d forgotten you’d even mentioned it.

But Jungkook hadn’t.

It’s almost syrupy sweet, this orange. You savour each slice, pressing them between your teeth, feeling the rush of juice burst forth through the pith and skin, and it’s so good you could cry. 

You do cry.

Your mouth is full of orange and your eyes are full of tears and your head is full of—of—something, something so all encompassing that it overwhelms you, water cascading down the aching planes of your body as you crumple inwards. Jungkook had protected you with the overwhelming power of Bulletproof Striker, and he’s protecting you now, soft and considerate and kind, vulnerable and human. Stripped of tons of metal and technology, Jungkook wears his beating heart on his sleeve and is none the weaker for it. 

This seemingly small thing means so much, so so so much. You understand him, and he understands you too, knows that this gesture is indicative of support and care and nurturing, a tiny fragment of peace he can offer you in the tumult of everything out of your control. 

A tiny fragment of peace that’s part of a greater whole, all the things that Jungkook gives to you.

When the Marshalls gather you and tell you the plan going forwards, you’re unsurprised. 

It makes sense, of course. Four pilots down to two still leaves a pair, and Bulletproof Striker is nearly functional even if Cypher Zero will stay out of commission while she’s rebuilt. Simple maths. One Jaeger, two pilots. You and Jungkook.

You’re scared.

You know you’re Drift compatible. Every fight in the Kwoon Combat Room is evidence enough of that. A dialogue, each challenge is meant to be a dialogue to show physical compatibility, and it is: there’s perfect sync in how you each move to strike, even if your motions are so different, muscles burning and breaths coming faster each time you attack, parry, strike, block. It’s not about winning or losing. It’s a conversation, one that you and Jungkook fall into without thought.

And he would be the perfect partner. That much isn’t in doubt. Loyal and open and strong, honourable and brave and kind—and you know him, have grown to learn so much about this golden boy, this bright, brilliant boy. He’s fucking indomitable and anyone would be lucky to find themselves in the same Jaeger as Jeon Jungkook.

But there are no secrets in the Drift. 

To let someone in, you have to trust them. And you do, you do trust Jungkook, probably far more than makes sense, some unspoken thing between you burning like a wildfire. But while you trust him, confident in his strength and his heart, you trust yourself less.

You’ll be flayed open, naked and defenceless. He’ll see right to the core of you, every dirty corner of your crumpled soul, every shameful part of your foundations, uneven brickwork layered into your shaky temperament; strong one second, weak the next. He’ll see that you’re hard inside, too, biting and acidic right down to your shrivelled heart. This nascent thing that you’ve been building with Jungkook, been keeping safe in the cradle of your careful hands, will sputter out and die.

“Baby.”

Yoongi’s voice is comforting, a familiar rumble that rolls through your ears as you rest your head in his lap.

“And I mean that you’re literally being a baby,” he continues, and you curl your lip back from your teeth in a small snarl, menacing.

Yoongi just continues to thread his hands through your hair.

You’ve Drifted with Yoongi often and long enough to know how every thread of thought unspools in that skull of his. You know he has every confidence in the unshakeable pillar of your soul. He’s a brother to you, a connection that thrums deep in your veins even without the intimacy of the Drift, and the love you hold for him is undying and true.

But whatever you have with Jungkook is so timorous in the face of that.

“It’s different.” Yoongi looks down at the twist of your face. You know his thoughts and he knows yours too, your face and heart an open book to him. “But different isn’t bad.”

You keep your mouth shut, keep the words swallowed down in your throat, shoved down to the pit of your stomach. Keep it secret. Keep it safe.

“Baby,” he says again, softer, lower. This time, you know it’s an endearment. 

At the end of the day, no matter what fear grips cold and endless at your insides, you’ll do it. You’ll Drift with Jungkook. You’ll throw everything you have into the pyre, watch it burn and turn to ash, if it means you can keep everyone safe. To save Yoongi, Taehyung, Jungkook—you’ll open yourself up to the mortifying ordeal of opening up, laying yourself bare. You have to.

It’s chaotic, anyway. The day that your practice Drift is scheduled is the day the next kaiju rises out of the breach, that dreaded rift between our world and theirs, because why would you be allowed to breathe, even for a second?

It’s a scramble into the cockpit. There’s no time for trial runs or test Drifts. You fly or you fall. Everyone’s in a state of orderly upheaval as you’re suited up and left to stride forwards into a Conn-Pod that isn’t yours, in a Jaeger that isn’t yours.

(Left to stride forwards to stand next to someone who isn’t yours.)

Your Drivesuit is grey. Jungkook’s is white. There’s a subtle hologramatic sheen laid across the planes of his armour, leaving him a multicoloured vision that shines out under the flicker of the cockpit’s endless tiny buttons and lights. Your own suit is a matte, gunmetal with accents of burning scarlet, far more battered and worn. Dark and wild in the face of Jungkook’s radiance. He’s the perfect answer to the kaiju invasion. You, though, feel like an interloper in a space that wasn’t designed for you, this circle room that’s been home to Jungkook and his true, real partner. 

But he’s looking at you like there’s no one else he’d rather have by his side. 

He doesn’t care that everything about this moment just cements how he’s too good for you in every conceivable way, elevated above you. Doesn’t care that you’re just a temporary stop gap. There’s trepidation, of course, skittering nerves that dance across his face for this first Drift, surrounded by all the commotion that’s swallowing the world up outside the cockpit. But there’s also that fire in his eyes, one you’ve learned to expect: Jungkook is a wildfire and will surmount any obstacle in a blaze of white-hot light.

And he wants you along for the ride.

(Burns bright for it.)

“You ready?” He asks, and the tiny tremor in his words takes you off guard even as it soothes a balm over the rash of apprehension that prickles across your skin.

(Because he’s nervous, too.)

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer, truly.

His eyes crinkle into a smile, crescents of happiness as his lip peels back from his teeth. It should be jarring, seeing his sweet bunny smile in the pit of a Jaeger, so at odds with the military polycarbonate that girds his body with protection, the masculine edges of his face—but it’s not. The world is just a backdrop to Jeon Jungkook, dropping away as you fall into his eyes, twinkling stars of brightness and warmth that hold you safe, even now.

Peace and contentment steals over you. You’re almost shocked by it, the way your own face softens into a smile, the rising beat of your heart. Every ragged messy edge in you is smoothed over by Jungkook’s presence and you glow for him.

When the Conn-Pod drops, there’s the familiar weightlessness, the sway of your body in the harness as you fall. Anticipation roils through you as Bulletproof Striker’s head locks into place, whirring mechanisms securing you to nearly 2000 tons of metal, so much heavier than your own Jaeger. You’ve taken Jungkook’s usual place and he’s taken Taehyung’s, the right hemisphere, the dominant pilot, familiar with this machine in a way you’re not.

Not yet, at least.

“We’ve got this.”

Jungkook’s voice cuts through the noise, the AI talking at you, a narration of events you’ve long grown used to. You turn your head to look at him. He’s already looking at you, intent and sincere. Like always.

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, we have.”

There’s no point being afraid. In a few seconds, Jungkook will be in your head, washing over every part of you—and you’ll be in his, pressing your ethereal touch into every facet that comes together to make Jeon Jungkook who he is.

Seconds pass. There’s a little hitch in his breath, a stiffness to his limbs, and he shuts his eyes. You breathe in deep, deep, deep, sucking in a harsh breath into your greedy lungs—

—the timer hits zero—

—and then the Drift slams into you all at once, all encompassing and consuming, threading your minds together.

(Drifting with Yoongi is easy, the familiarity of coming home after so much time away.)

(But this?)

(This is throwing yourself into a cold lake on a hot summer’s day, bracing and refreshing and breath-stealing all at once, shocking life into every one of your limbs, so sharp and fast you’re scared you might drown before you breach the surface, water holding onto you and not letting you go. This is driving reckless and fast down empty roads, watching the world pass you in a blur, laughing in delight at the pleasure of it all. This is scaling a cliffside with nothing but your own hands and determination, digging your fingers into the unyielding rock, pulling yourself up-up-up, never letting yourself fall.)

(This is having Jungkook beside you. This is having Jungkook diving into the lake with all the grace of an Olympian before he rises to the surface, tosses his hair carelessly out of his face, and spits a mouthful of water at you with laughter in his eyes. This is having Jungkook behind the driver’s wheel, shifting gears without thought, looking away from the road to watch the way your hair dances in the wind. This is having Jungkook climbing beside you, waiting for you at the top, holding a hand out to pull you up and over so you can sprawl out beside him, exhausted and exuberant at the top of this mountain, basking in the sun with Jungkook just a hair’s breadth away from you.)

(He takes one look at you. He takes one look at all the dark of your memories, the cascading mess of your insides, the hidden things that are open to him in the Drift, cut open and peeled back for his gaze—and he doesn’t look away.)

(He sees everything, past skin and muscle and bone and nerves, even deeper, right into your heart—)

(—all the torrents that eddy the deep waters of your soul—)

(—and he doesn’t look away.)

(He doesn’t look away.)

(Can’t look away.)

(Doesn’t want to.)

(Never wants to.)

(Jeon Jungkook takes one look at you, your whole being, and he knows you.)

(And he doesn’t want you any less.)

It’s just a second, a flicker, a breath, this first connection in this Drift, falling into each other. But it’s also a lifetime, two lifetimes, four lifetimes; your memories, Jungkook’s memories, Yoongi’s memories in yours, Taehyung’s memories in Jungkook’s. Layers and layers and years and years piled over one another, a tumbling sprawl—but it’s easy. It’s easy, so easy, Jungkook seeing you, you seeing him, everything he is, everything you are, everything you are to each other, with each other, for each other. The important things. The things you need to know to navigate this together, in sync even before now, reading each other to a level neither had even realised.

And when you’ve killed the kaiju. When you’ve walked Bulletproof Striker back to shore, brought her back to the Shatterdome, back home, it doesn’t end. You lift out of the Drift, step out of your Drivesuits, as different as they are (as different as you are), and it doesn’t end. 

Jungkook’s eyes linger, as heavy as a physical touch, and even as congratulations for a successful drop are bandied about you, he doesn’t leave your side. He keeps his hand against yours—not intertwined, but brushing, the curl of his fingers against your own. Touching. You’re not the protector here. He’s protecting you, in a way that doesn’t leave you feeling inferior or weak. You feel soft and warm and small and safe, pulled inexorably towards him, supported, buoyed up, and you don’t feel selfish for it.

Because he wants this.

He wants to be your comfort and your support.

He doesn’t want it to end.

(You don’t want it to end.)

And when you finally break away from those crowds, released from the shackles of responsibility and expectation—when you’re finally left alone, the two of you with each other, there’s no hesitation when you come together.

He lays you out beneath him and has you sobbing, back arching into the pleasure he draws out of your body, playing you like a maestro. Because he knows you, after all. He knows exactly how to trail his lips across your skin, your neck and stomach and thighs, painting marks across your body like it’s his personal canvas. He knows exactly how to have you twisting underneath him, how to pull those pretty sounds from your lips, fucking you with his fingers and his tongue until you’re a shaking mess. He kisses you sweet, merciless, letting you claw at his skin as you beg for more, more more more, wanting it, needing it, wanting him, needing him.

And you know he’ll give it to you. He’ll give himself to you, give you everything you ask for. You know how he wants to see you fall apart and you know how to move your body to have him gritting his teeth and staring in awe. You know how desperate he is to worship you, to show you his adoration and reverence, and you open up for him, unfurl like a flower, dripping nectar. When he finally presses into you, hot and long and thick, it’s so good you could cry. You draw him in-in-in, into your body and arms and heart, pressing your lips to the sweat at his brow, the taste of skin and salt and Jungkook bursting across your tongue.

There’s no Drift here, no curl of memories and unspoken thoughts between you. It’s physical and human, the crash of your bodies against each other, skin on skin, the thrust of his cock pressing into the dripping folds of your cunt. It’s the other half of that connection, the final piece, this thing you have with Jungkook, this perfect balance you have with him. It sears itself across your body and into your soul: it’s pleasure and passion and devotion carved into each touch of your lips and fingers, each roll of your hips, each time Jungkook makes you cum, gasping for him.

When he’s finally come apart inside you, spilling into your willing heat as you shake beneath him, arms and legs wrapped around his body as you pull him as close as you can, unwilling to let go—it still doesn’t end. You’re so wrapped up in Jungkook, in his arms, his heart, and you know he won’t let you go, either. He presses his lips against yours, chases those kisses, quiet and chaste to open-mouthed and dirty as the mood takes you, and then Jungkook rolls over you again, a spark in his eyes as he decides he’s still hungry for you.

You know, now, that all that time ago, when you carved that space for him into your chest, he’d done the same for you. He’d laid his heart at your feet and waited there, kneeling, for you to accept it, patient and willing. Staring at you with all the deep love you never thought you deserved, never thought you’d receive. But here he is. Here he is, love burning in his dark brown eyes. Eyes that have seen all the damaged, aching parts of you and love you anyway.

“I’m yours.”

Jungkook shines so bright at your words, a supernova of joy. His smile is so wide and his gaze is so soft, for you, for you, for you.

“Everything I am is for you,” he murmurs, letting the words curl into the air, settle across your skin, sink deep inside your chest. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel this touch of him inside you, wrapped around your heart.

And when you lift your hands, he comes so easily. He presses his cheek into the curve of your fingers, lets you hold him, lets you cup those lovely cheeks in your palms.

“I love you,” he says.

Right now, in this instant, there’s nothing but him. No kaiju, no Jaegers, no crumbling world, nothing. There’s only him, and you, together.

“I love you too,” you reply—and when you smile, gentle and tender, Jungkook falls in love all over again.

Burns bright for you.