#i have a tendency to ramble sorry 😭

[galaxgay]

In this post about Aziraphale reveling in Crowley's trust, @ravenofazarath2 got me thinking about why Crowley is actually so different from all the other angels and demons. It's definitely something that has stuck out to me especially since S2 but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

(Apologies, this meta is gonna be unnecessarily long and also might be missing information because I need to rewatch S1 and haven't read the book yet. Also, this meta is just for fun so take it with a grain of silly salt 💕)

@ravenofazarath2 mentioned that maybe Crowley isn't brainwashed like Aziraphale (and all the other ethereal beings) because he bit the apple- The apple that contains the Knowledge of Good and Evil. And I am now going insane because wait a second-

When we see him in Eden he says this line, speculating on why it's so wrong to have the knowledge of good and evil. It's such an... interesting thing to say- especially for an ethereal.

Sure, he could very much be talking about Adam and Eve choosing to eat the apple and being kicked from Eden for it (Landlords and their obnoxious rules🙄), but for fun, I'd like to play with another idea.

To be a bit more philosophical, I want to preface this theory by saying "knowing the difference between good and evil" means understanding its many complexities. It means knowing there are times where good deeds are poisoned with malice or even have evil unintended consequences and evil deeds can be justified by means outside of one's control and have good consequences- and what is good for one person, may be evil for another.

Angels and demons do not have this "knowledge". They have their strict rules and codes that they follow almost compulsively and are all collectively in on this bit. Good and Evil are almost always about immediate action and never factor in consequences. They recognize good and evil based on their respective sides. Nothing more, nothing less.

Additionally, the phrasing of that line is interesting to me. It kind of sounds like "as someone who has bit the apple, gained that knowledge and can now see the difference between good and evil, (and perhaps fell/was punished for it himself) I don't get what's so wrong with that knowledge."

The reason I don't think this is too much of a reach is because sure, halo-hugging angels who are still apart of the "cult" are going to be brainwashed, but what's so strange to me is that demons, who are fallen angels and have supposedly seen both sides themselves, don't seem to share Crowley's sentiment. Not a single one. They seem almost as brainwashed as the angels are. Is that not bizarre? Not to be a nerd but statistically speaking, at least one other demon should be able to agree, right? Why is it only Crowley?

Because it's not about seeing both sides, it's about understanding both sides. Something you can only do, if you take a bite.

(Sure, one could say the demon's quest to ruin humanity could be an act of rebellion and revenge but again, why is it all of them? I feel like at least a few of them would in one way or another agree with Crowley, even the littlest bit and they don't.)

In S1, we get this beautifully dramatic frame where Crowley says "I only ever asked questions". Which of course, is a line that everyone has been scrambling back to after seeing angel Crowley in S2. Which makes me think of this ask that Neil Gaiman answered:

Crowley's implication of not deserving to fall and Neil Gaiman saying that Crowley isn't a reliable narrator when it comes to his fall are certainly opposing views but why can't they both be correct? (we're exercising DBT today for fun)

If we know anything about Good Omens, it's that the entire theme of the story hinges on perspective. How the same instance can be viewed dramatically different depending on who is watching and where their morals are aligned. For both of these things to be true, Crowley would probably see his fall as a punishment for having simple curiosity. To Neil Gaiman, a much more neutral, outside observer, Crowley's fall wouldn't have been such a random, out of place happening. Which leads me to wonder what the Great War was even about. (I'm assuming the Great War happened before Eden-)

Perhaps it was about asking questions and making suggestions.

It seems kind of silly to say but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. If the Great War is what caused many of the angels to fall, it would make sense that the center of that war would be a lack of faith. And the thing about faith is a lot of the time there's this idea that you should hang your questions aside and choose to believe- questions can oftentimes be seen as a threat or a lack of faith. Even more so are suggestions. I believe Aziraphale's reaction to Crowley's questions and suggestions in S2E1 are a perfect example of this being just the case.

I can imagine Crowley, and many of the higher ranking angels such as Lucifer and Beelzebub finding each other to all have the same questions and suggestions and doubts about the future of the universe. Having the rank they had, I could see them planning to go to God to ask questions- they, at this point, have no reason to believe anything should happen to them should they ask questions.

With them having those questions, I could also see there being a rift between the Angels who wished to ask questions, and those who strongly opposed it. And as they debated it, it snowballed out of control turning into a full-on war.

(Small note: sure maybe they became demons before the war actually officially starts but I still think this theory could hold pretty strongly.)

Crowley was on the side of asking questions and making suggestions. They did in fact fight with the other angels who ended up falling. Her questions and suggestions were viewed as a lack of faith. If you view faith as being able to hang up your questions and doubts, it actually was a lack of faith. To Neil Gaiman and katiebird2000's point, Crowley's fall was in fact just the consequences of his actions. To say "all I ever did was ask questions" is to negate all of the other things Crowley did.

(I'd also like to throw out there that faith in this circumstance is faith in God, not faith in doing good which I think explains a large portion of Crowley's morality throughout the story because God and good are not synonymous. Crowley believes in doing the right thing but does not believe God is the one to do it.)

And so Crowley fell. To his point of view, he fell for simply having questions. So when Crowley heard about the Tree of Knowledge, she had to go. When they heard the word "Knowledge" they probably thought taking a bite would answer their questions- provide her with the thing she was denied in Heaven. It was also the perfect first act of rebellion- to indulge in something he was not meant to indulge in.

But when he took a bite, something completely different happened. The wool over her eyes had been peeled back and suddenly the universe became so much more complicated. Perhaps tempting Eve to eat the apple was originally about temptation but then became an act of setting them free- to give them the right to choose just like the apple did for Crowley.

And everything from there on is history.

I think that's why Crowley not only loves humanity but also why Crowley himself is so human: that is the one thing he shares with humanity- the knowledge and understanding that good and evil are not mutually exclusive. Knowing that good and evil are tied by a red string of fate, destined to dance circles around one another eternally.

[einsatzzz]

chibi hibakana acrylic stand, drawn adorably as always by @azaracyy 🥰🥰🥰 thank you @lixenn for your tags on this post, it made me remember I have another kana and hibird art I kept to myself for too long and forgot to post shvfgscfgscdf

some ramblings, but generally, animals don't like kana. maybe it's just that advanced animal sense/instinct that they have, so they don't like her vibes at all. for example, imagine tsuna getting terrorized by those dogs in his neighborhood again, if kana shows up they'll start running away asap. other times, they'll bark/growl at her if the animal is braver (but still run away in the end after one glare).

on the other hand, there's hibird. despite being such a cute bird, i do believe that it is also quite an unusual animal??? imagine having that sick bastard birds as ur master, then quickly just switching up to the hibari kyoya(tm). i would switch up so fast too if my choice is between ugly nasty oji-san vs strong & dashing ikemen i do think hibird is very similar to kusakabe, in the sense that they are drawn to people with some form of insane aura 😭😭😭 which is why i can see it vibing with kana too (not to mention her similar qualities with hibari), despite other animals going "NOPE" on her.

[pinkmirth]

i will forever be in awe about how reiner could have two fugly, hateful bitch-ass parents and still turn out so gorgeous . . . karina ate that one thing!

[superbellsubways]

the fact thta everyone has a different perception of me is so scary ohgod *hides away forever

[irritablepoe]

Is your patience with me running out already?

[jungkoode]

Strings Attached (to my heart)

→ PAIRING : Spider-Man!Jungkook x F!Reader

→ RATING: Explicit, 18+.

→ DATE POSTED: January 20, 2025.

→ SUMMARY : You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

→ TAGS : second person perspective used, female pronouns used, college au, spider-man au, noona kink, slight age gap (he’s 21, she’s 24ish), dry humping, virgin jungkook, first time, inexperienced jk, creaming his pants, sexual content, explicit content, library smut, clothed getting off, breast play, grinding, praise kink, crying during sex, crying after sex, embarrassment kink, humiliation kink, slight dom reader x sub jungkook, size difference, pining, jungkook has a big fat crush on you, secret identity, touch starved, protective jungkook, closet sexual activities, desperate jungkook, gentle domming, aftercare, emotional intimacy, fluff and smut, Korean setting, university setting.

→ PLAYLIST: set the vibes.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 11.8k

→ A/N: Hi everyone! Welcome to my first attempt at a Spidey!JK AU, where he somehow manages to be an even bigger mess than Peter Parker 😭. This story is very close to my heart because it dives into the dynamic between a confident noona and her adorably flustered freshman—who just so happens to be Seoul’s clumsy new superhero. To be honest, this Spiderkook oneshot was heavily inspired by Tangie, aka @rpwprpwprpwprw (love you bb!!!). I’d been lowkey daydreaming about Spiderkook for ages but thought, “Nah, that’s too silly.” Then I discovered there’s an entire community sharing the same brain cell as me??? Like, you’re welcome for my service, I guess?? Originally, this was supposed to be a short, smutty 5k romp. But do you think I can write smut without plot? I CAN’T. IT’S A MEDICAL CONDITION. Now it’s a 12k beast with feelings, webs, and chaos. Sorry (but not really). If you enjoy this, I might turn it into a mini-series because, let’s be honest, spider powers in… certain scenarios… sound very intriguing. Hihihi. Hope you enjoy this mess I’ve unleashed on the world! 🕸️

Edit: also, yeah. Tae is older than Jimin and Jungkook here because my sleep deprived brain slapped a ‘hyung’ on Jimin’s mouth and I’m not editing again. (≖͞_≖̥)

The thing about Spider-Man is that he reminds you too much of a certain freshman.

A freshman named Jeon Jungkook who keeps hovering around the journalism building with his messy hair and his wide eyes and his endless supply of convenience store snacks.

You've been telling yourself it's just a coincidence. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when they're flustered. It's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

Maybe that's why you're hiding in August Coffee, your usual spot tucked away in one of Sinchon's winding side streets.

The late autumn breeze carries the scent of roasted coffee beans through the open window, and your laptop screen glows with half-finished articles and interview transcripts. Your notebook lies open beside a rapidly cooling americano while the café's jazz playlist provides a gentle backdrop to your furious typing. You're on a deadline for tomorrow's paper, and the last thing you need is—

A flash of red and blue swings past the window.

You pretend not to notice. Maybe if you focus hard enough on your screen, he'll take the hint and—

"Noona!"

—of course he doesn't.

There he is, hanging upside down outside the second-floor window, the eyes of his mask wide and eager. A plastic convenience store bag dangles from his hand, swaying in the autumn wind. Several patrons are already pulling out their phones, and you can feel your carefully cultivated productivity slipping away.

"No," you say firmly, not looking up from your laptop.

"But noona—" His voice cracks on the honorific, and you absolutely refuse to find it endearing. "I haven't even said anything yet!"

"I'm working." You take a pointed sip of your americano, grimacing when you realize it's gone cold. Perfect. "Some of us have actual responsibilities, Spider-Boy."

"I brought you snacks!" He awkwardly maneuvers through the window—you're not sure if the owner keeps it open for him specifically or if he's just that persistent. "You know, the ones you like with the matcha filling? The new ones from that fancy Japanese brand?"

You pause, fingers hovering over your keyboard. "How do you know I like the ones with matcha filling?"

"Uh—" Even through the mask, you can tell he's flustered. His hands fidget with the plastic bag. "Lucky guess? Not that I know you, noona. Uh, I mean, you look like a noona. Not that I know for a fact you're a noona—"

"Stop talking." You pinch the bridge of your nose, painfully aware of the phones still recording this interaction. This will definitely end up on some university Instagram page later. Again. "You're making it worse."

He deflates slightly, shoulders hunching in that familiar way that reminds you too much of a certain someone who keeps "accidentally" running into you at the journalism building. The same one who somehow always knows your coffee order and brings you snacks you oh so casually mention fancying—

No. You're not going there. You're not connecting those dots, because connecting those dots leads to complications you absolutely don't need in your final year.

"I can leave if you want," he offers, but he's already approaching, placing the snacks on your table with careful precision. "But you've been here for four hours, and you always forget to eat when you're working on a big story."

You stare at him. "How do you know how long I've been here?"

"I, uh—" His mask's eyes widen comically. "Spider-sense?"

"That's not how spider-sense works."

"You don't know how my spider-sense works! Maybe it's... hungry-noona-sense?"

A laugh escapes before you can stop it, and you quickly cover it with a cough. "That's the worst excuse you've come up with yet."

"Yet!" He perks up. "So you're keeping track?"

"Go away." You open the snack bag anyway, pretending not to notice how he straightens up eagerly when you do. "Don't you have a city to protect or something?"

"Seoul can handle itself for ten minutes while I make sure my favorite n—while I make sure hardworking journalists eat properly."

You raise an eyebrow at the slip, and he fidgets under your gaze. "Your favorite what?"

"Nothing! No one! Just, you know, doing my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man duties. Very friendly. Very neighborly. Nothing specific or personal about it at all."

You bite into one of the matcha-filled snacks—they're fresh, which means he must have bought them recently. Specifically for you. Just like how a certain freshman keeps bringing you fresh triangle kimbap from the convenience store near your morning lecture hall...

No. Stop it. You're not doing this.

"Sit down," you sigh, pushing the chair across from you out with your foot. "And stay quiet, or I’ll kick you out."

He practically collapses into the chair, bag already placed on the table. You notice his hands shaking slightly, and something in your chest tightens.

You shouldn't find it endearing. You really, really shouldn't.

But then again, you probably shouldn't find anything about this situation endearing — a masked vigilante bringing you sweets in the middle of your favorite cafe, stammering through excuses that sound exactly like the ones Jungkook uses when you catch him "accidentally" walking the same way as you after class.

You really need to stop noticing these things.

You try to refocus on your notes after that, but it's hard—mostly because Spider-Man is still sitting there. Quietly. Staring.

And not in a "just glancing around the cafe" kind of way, either. No, he's full-on watching you, eyes darting between the scribbles in your notebook, the crumbs on your plate, and, worst of all, your face. Like you're the most fascinating thing in the world. Like he's never seen someone drink a mediocre americano and type furiously into Google Docs before.

It goes on for five minutes. Five full, agonizing minutes of silence, punctuated only by the occasional click of your keyboard and the muted sounds of espresso machines in the background.

Finally, you sigh, your fingers pausing mid-typing. "Don't you have better stuff to do?"

"No." The response is immediate. Too immediate. His tone is absurdly casual, like the very idea that Spider-Man—the literal defender of Seoul—could have anything more important than sitting in August Coffee and bothering you is completely ridiculous.

You raise a brow, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "No supervillains to fight? No cats stuck in trees? Nothing?"

"Nope," he says, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "Pretty quiet day."

You shake your head and turn your attention back to your laptop. "Must be nice."

There's a pause. You can feel him shifting in his seat, the chair creaking slightly under his weight, and when he speaks again, his voice is just shy of hesitant.

"How are the pastries? Do you like them?"

Your fingers freeze over your keyboard. Slowly, you turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes.

"You didn't spit in them, did you?"

"Wha—no!" he sputters, his whole posture stiffening in obvious horror. "Why—why would I—noona, I would never spit in your pastries!"

You let him sweat for a second longer, just to amuse yourself, before breaking into a small, satisfied smirk.

"Relax, Spider-Boy. I'm kidding." You reach for the bag of snacks he brought. "Yeah, they're good. Wanna try?"

His eyes widen a little—well, as much as they can through that mask—and he seems to hesitate, like he's not sure if you're serious or trying to bait him again. You wave one of the pastries in his direction. He glances at it, then back at you, before finally nodding.

"Okay. Yeah, sure."

You watch as he carefully rolls his mask up just to his nose, revealing his mouth for the first time. You don't know what you expected, but… it's a good mouth. Maybe annoyingly good, given how little you want to admit that very obvious fact to yourself. Full lips, slightly pink, with just the faintest hint of nervousness as he bites at his bottom lip before leaning forward.

He takes a bite of the pastry you're holding out to him, and the pleased groan he lets out immediately makes you regret offering him anything at all.

"God, that's delicious," he mumbles around his mouthful, crumbs falling onto his suit. He barely finishes chewing before continuing. "Now I know why you like them so much. I mean—why people say they're so good. Not you specifically. Just, you know, people."

You snort, shaking your head as you turn back to your laptop. "You're a terrible liar."

"And you're a terrible bossy noona," he mutters, mostly to himself, stuffing the rest of the pastry into his mouth before leaning back in his chair.

You're about to toss another sarcastic remark his way when something catches your eye. Or, more specifically, half of something. A small smudge of green—matcha filling, you realize—lingering on the corner of his mouth.

It's instinctive, the way your hand moves—completely unthinking, like muscle memory kicking in before your brain has a chance to catch up. One moment, you're perfectly stationary in your seat; the next, your thumb is brushing against his lip, swiping the smudge away with a gentle, practiced motion.

He startles at the touch, his whole body jerking slightly as his eyes snap to yours. And then, just like that, reality crashes back in.

Your hand freezes midair.

His mouth parts for half a second, like he's about to say something, but then his tongue darts out—slow, deliberate—to lick the exact spot your thumb had just brushed.

You snatch your hand back like you've been burned, your face heating despite yourself.

The silence that follows is awful. Deafening. Inescapable.

He shifts in his chair, his eyes flickering to the table, then back to you, then down again. He clears his throat—once, then twice—before adjusting the edge of his suit with what you can only describe as frantic energy.

"So… uh…" His voice is tight. Way tighter than usual, cracking slightly on the first syllable. "Thanks for that. The, uh. The whole… lip thing. That was. Uh. Cool."

You blink at him, deadpan. "Cool?"

"Yeah. Cool. Totally normal and cool. Happens all the time. Super casual."

If you weren't so flustered yourself, you'd have laughed at the way he's fidgeting in his seat, his hands gripping his thighs under the table like he's trying not to explode.

"Right," you say slowly, leaning back in your chair. "Casual."

"Exactly."

He nods a little too enthusiastically, and you notice his knees bumping against each other under the table before he quickly crosses his legs. His hands drop to his lap almost immediately after, like he's trying to adjust the spandex near his thighs.

Your gaze is momentarily drawn there before—

"Anyway!" The word comes out nearly an octave higher than it should. He's already standing—or, more accurately, bolting to his feet—his hands still awkwardly hovering in front of him. "I should, uh, get going! Supervillains don't wait, you know? Gotta, uh… save the people of Seoul. Yeah. Big hero stuff."

You stare at him, unblinking, as he starts inching toward the door. "Uh-huh."

"Thanks for the pastries, noona! Great talk, as always!" He clears his throat again, audibly struggling to keep his voice steady. "Okay! Bye!"

And then he's gone, practically sprinting out of the cafe before he can embarrass himself any further.

You sit there for a long moment, still frozen, your brain catching up to what just happened. Then, slowly, you reach for another pastry.

Whatever just happened? Definitely not your problem.

"I'm such a fucking idiot."

Jungkook's voice is muffled by his hands, currently covering his face in what can only be described as unrelenting shame. He's lying on Jimin's couch, legs splayed out haphazardly, the picture of a man defeated by his own existence.

Across the room, Jimin raises an eyebrow, lazily popping another chip into his mouth. The bag crinkles loudly, much to Jungkook's dismay. "It's not that bad, Kooks. She probably didn't even notice."

Jungkook groans, dragging his hands down his face until his eyes peek out dramatically between his fingers. "She 100% noticed. It was—like—a five-minute interaction. FIVE minutes, and I made it weird. Now she's gonna think I'm a fucking weirdo and a creep."

Jimin doesn't even try to hide the snort that escapes him, his expression somewhere between entertained and unimpressed. "Yeah, because stalking her as Spider-Man didn't have her thinking that already."

Jungkook bolts upright on the couch, eyes wide with panic. "She told you that?!"

Jimin chokes on his chip, wheezing as he waves his hand for Jungkook to calm down. "No! Shit, man, calm down. I'm just saying. Like, I guess? I mean, you do kind of… hover. A lot."

"I don't hover," Jungkook protests, indignant. But even as the words leave his mouth, he hesitates. "Do I hover?"

Jimin gives him a look.

Jungkook groans again, flopping back onto the couch like his limbs have given up on life. "Oh my god, you're right. I hover. I'm that guy. And now it's worse because who the fuck pops a boner from someone—" He pauses, embarrassingly aware of the words about to leave his mouth. "—touching their lip? What is wrong with me? I must be insane. She must think I'm insane."

Jimin, now thoroughly entertained, leans back in his chair with his bag of chips, one leg crossed over the other. "I mean... it's not great," he says unhelpfully, though there's a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jungkook lets out a strangled noise, somewhere between a groan and a whimper, and buries his face back into his hands. "She's never gonna look at me the same. I probably freaked her out. GOD, she's gonna think I'm some kind of pervert. Or—worse—she's gonna avoid me completely now. And then I'll never see her again. And then—"

"Okay, okay," Jimin interrupts, holding up a hand to stop whatever spiral Jungkook's about to drag them into. "First of all, she offered to share her snack with you, so I don't think she's avoiding you anytime soon."

"But that was BEFORE—"

"Second of all," Jimin continues loudly, ignoring Jungkook's interjection, "maybe just... stop calling her 'noona' every chance you get? It's not helping your case."

Jungkook frowns, peeking out from behind his fingers again. "What's wrong with calling her noona? That's respectful!"

"Yeah, but it's also kinda... you know," Jimin winces, waving a hand vaguely. "Weird, coming from you. Like, you're already bumbling around her like a lost golden retriever. Adding 'noona' into the mix just makes you look—what's the word?"

"Adorable?" Jungkook tries hopefully.

"Pathetic," Jimin finishes, deadpan.

Jungkook groans for what feels like the millionth time, throwing his head against the couch cushion. "Why do I even talk to you? You're supposed to make me feel better, hyung. Not worse."

"Hey, I'm here for the truth," Jimin says, pointing at him with a chip in hand. "You want a cheerleader, go call Taehyung."

"Taehyung's just gonna laugh at me," Jungkook mutters into the cushion.

"And yet, you're shocked I'm doing it too."

Jungkook mumbles something unintelligible, his face half-smashed into the cushion now as he replays every excruciating detail of his interaction with you earlier. The way your thumb had brushed his lip. The way he'd immediately been unable to control the—well, reaction. The way he'd panicked like an idiot, stammered something incomprehensible, and practically bolted out of the cafe without even finishing his sentence.

"Kill me," he says dramatically, still face-down in the cushion. "Just end me. I can't show my face again."

Jimin laughs, leaning forward to pat Jungkook's shoulder in a way that's more mocking than comforting. "Relax, man. You'll survive. Just... maybe keep your hormones in check next time, yeah?"

Jungkook flips him off blindly, his hand waving somewhere above his head.

"Love you too, Spider-Menace," Jimin quips, taking another chip like this is the best entertainment he's had all week.

The crunching sound of Jimin biting into another chip is loud enough to make Jungkook groan into the couch again. "Do you ever stop eating?" Jungkook mutters, his voice muffled by the cushion.

Jimin raises an eyebrow, unbothered, and is about to throw a smartass reply back when his phone buzzes on the coffee table. He glances at the screen, sees Taehyung's name, and shrugs, casually placing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he picks up without pausing his snacking.

"What's up?" Jimin hums lazily, chips still in hand, completely ignoring Jungkook's existential crisis unfolding just feet away from him.

Jungkook's ears perk up despite himself—because why else would Taehyung be calling Jimin right now? He lifts his head just enough to peek over the cushion, his hair mussed and sticking up in odd directions.

Jimin's expression doesn't change at first, eyes still fixated on the bag of chips in his lap as he listens. "Yeah, he's with me," he says vaguely, gesturing aimlessly toward Jungkook, who frowns at being referred to like some stray dog Jimin found.

But then Jimin freezes. His chewing slows. His eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline as Taehyung says something that causes him to do a violent double take at Jungkook.

"What?" Jimin coughs, choking on the chip he was mid-swallow. He pounds his chest a little before leaning forward sharply. "He—what? What, what, what—? Tae, calm down—!"

"What's going on?" Jungkook asks, sitting up now, his stomach twisting uncomfortably at Jimin's sudden change in tone.

Jimin waves him off with a quick flick of his hand, signaling for him to shut up. "No, yeah. Yeah, no, I know," Jimin mumbles into the phone, his tone getting increasingly more exasperated as he listens. "Tae—okay? Can you just—okay?"

"What's wrong??" Jungkook asks again, panic creeping into his voice. He hates not knowing what's going on, especially when Jimin looks... concerned? Flustered? Whatever it is, it's not good.

Jimin twists his head toward Jungkook, eyes narrowing as he motions aggressively with his entire head for Jungkook to shut the hell up.

"Okay, let me— what? You wanna talk to him?" Jimin repeats, his voice pitching higher in disbelief. "Oh, now you wanna talk to him? Fine! Okay, okay, okay, here."

Before Jungkook can process what's happening, Jimin is all but shoving his phone into Jungkook's hands, plunking the bag of chips onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.

"Take it," Jimin mutters, irritation bleeding into his tone.

"Wait, why do I have to—"

"Take it," Jimin repeats, louder this time, his hand already retreating as he grabs another chip to munch on, clearly done with whatever chaos Taehyung just unloaded on him.

Jungkook swallows nervously, holding the phone to his ear as Taehyung's voice immediately fills it in a panicked rush.

"Jungkook! Oh my god, dude, you're not gonna believe this—" Taehyung starts, and Jungkook feels his entire stomach plummet before Taehyung can even finish his sentence.

"Believe what?" Jungkook half-yells into the phone, his voice cracking just slightly at the end, betraying the anxiety bubbling under his skin.

"Don't freak out," Taehyung begins, which, of course, makes Jungkook's blood pressure shoot straight through the roof. His knuckles grip Jimin's phone tightly, and he shares a panicked look with Jimin, who's now leaning against the coffee table with a chip halfway to his mouth, watching the scene unfold like it's prime-time drama.

"I'm already freaking out, hyung! Just tell me!" Jungkook demands, pacing the room like a caged animal.

"Okay, so," Taehyung starts again, and Jungkook can hear the smirk in his voice, which immediately makes him want to fling the phone out the window. "You know Y/N, yeah?"

"Do I—what do you mean, 'do I know Y/N'?! Of course I know—just get to the point!" Jungkook's frustration is mounting by the second. He's wound so tight he feels like a single flick might send him spiraling.

"Okay, Mr. Touchy," Taehyung says innocently, and Jungkook can practically see him holding back a laugh wherever he is. "So, uh… apparently, she's been asking questions."

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks. His heart lurches in a way that makes his hands clammy against the phone. "Questions?" he repeats, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Taehyung continues, tone far too blasé for Jungkook's liking. "You know, like... about Spider-Man."

Jungkook swears his brain short-circuits. For a second, all he hears is static, like every neuron in his head has collectively stopped firing.

"...What kind of questions?" he asks quietly, his voice taking on an edge that immediately grabs Jimin's attention.

"Oh, you know." Taehyung's voice is light, purposefully teasing. "Like, how he seems to always show up when she's around, or how he just happens to bring her favorite snacks, or—oh, this one's my favorite—how his voice cracks exactly like a certain freshman she knows at Yonsei."

Jungkook's knees buckle, and he collapses back onto the couch like his strings have been cut. Jimin is now openly laughing, clutching his stomach with one hand while pointing at Jungkook with the other.

"She—oh my god," Jungkook mutters into the phone, his free hand running through his hair in frantic tugs. "She knows. She knows, doesn't she? I'm so fucked."

"Hey, hey, calm down!" Taehyung says hurriedly, though his voice is still laced with amusement. "She doesn't know know. I mean, I don't think so. She's not like, accusing you or anything. Just... putting pieces together. Y'know, connecting dots."

"Connecting dots?!" Jungkook hisses, his chest tightening as his worst nightmare begins to unfold in real time. "Do you have any idea how many dots there ARE, hyung?! I'm like a walking... dot-factory!"

Jimin absolutely loses it, doubling over in laughter as crumbs from his chips scatter across the floor.

"Okay, Kook, you need to calm down," Taehyung says, though his tone suggests he's also suppressing a laugh. "She's just curious, that's all. You know how Y/N is. She's a journalist. She's always sniffing around for a good story, right?"

"She doesn't need THIS story!" Jungkook yells, his hand clenching into a fist against his thigh. "Oh my god, what if she writes about it? What if she—what if it ENDS UP IN THE SCHOOL PAPER?!"

"Relax, relax, relax," Taehyung says in quick succession, his voice almost soothing now. "She's not gonna write about it. I don't think she'd do that to you... unless, you know, you give her a reason to."

Jungkook groans, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands again. "I'm so dead. She's gonna out me. My life is over. My life is literally over."

"Hyung," Jimin finally pipes up, gasping for air as he wipes away a tear from laughing too hard. "Tell him to just confess already. At this rate, she'll figure it out before he ever grows the balls to tell her himself."

"Confess?" Jungkook sputters, jerking his head up to glare at Jimin. "Are you insane?! You want me to walk up to her and go, 'Hey, Y/N, funny thing—remember how you thought I was stalking you? Well, surprise! I was, but it's okay because I'm Spider-Man!' That's your plan?!"

Jimin shrugs, smirking as he tosses a chip into his mouth. "Worked for Andrew Garfield."

"THIS IS NOT A MOVIE!"

Taehyung's laugh echoes through the phone, loud and clear. "Oh man, I wish I was there to see this meltdown in person. Seriously, Kook, stop freaking out. Just... play it cool, okay? She doesn't know anything for sure. Yet."

"Yet?!" Jungkook exclaims, horror-struck.

"Gotta go!" Taehyung says way too quickly, the call disconnecting before Jungkook can yell at him further.

Jungkook stares at the phone in disbelief, his chest heaving as Jimin's smug laughter reverberates in the background.

"Cool," Jimin repeats mockingly, curving his lips. "Yeah, Kook, just play it cool. You're so good at that."

Jungkook groans, tossing the phone onto the couch and collapsing after it. "I need new friends."

"You love us," Jimin chirps, reaching for another chip.

Jungkook screams into the pillow.

You were expecting something, anything, really. A subtle slip-up. A sheepish confession. Hell, maybe even some stammering and nervous sweating.

But the moment you confronted Taehyung—cornered him, really, by the vending machine in the student lounge—and the words "Do you know if Jungkook's Spider-Man?" left your mouth, all he did was cackle. Loudly. Mockingly. Like a full-on villain in a Saturday morning cartoon.

"Spider-Man?" he wheezed, doubling over and clutching his stomach like you'd just told him the funniest joke in existence. "Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook? Noona, you're joking, right?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by how visceral his reaction was. "No. I'm not joking," you said stiffly, crossing your arms. "What's so funny about it?"

Taehyung straightened up, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye as he glanced at you with barely contained amusement. "Do you know Jungkook? Like, know him? Because that kid has two left feet. I've literally seen him trip over air. How would he even swing that gracefully?"

For a brief, fleeting moment, you felt the smallest hitch in your resolve. Because, well, the evidence did kind of contradict itself, didn't it? Jungkook is clumsy sometimes. That much is true. You've seen him knock over a whole stack of textbooks just trying to nod hello at you in the hallway. He once walked into a doorframe because he was too busy staring at his phone.

Spider-Man, by comparison, is supposed to be graceful. Quick. Precise. Not... whatever it is Jungkook embodies most of the time.

But then you think about the stupid coffee shop incident. The way Spider-Man stammered and fidgeted and tripped over his words like a nervous wreck. The way he dropped his entire cool superhero persona when he handed you those damn matcha pastries. He wasn't exactly graceful then, was he?

And okay, let's talk about those pastries for a second. Because the more you think about them, the more your brain starts spinning. You distinctly remember mentioning them once—to Eunjae, over lunch in the cafeteria, weeks ago. How the hell would Spider-Man know about them if he wasn't there to overhear?

You frown, chewing on the inside of your cheek as the pieces start stacking themselves again in your head. Jungkook might be clumsy, sure. But Spider-Man was clumsy too. At least, that day he was. And the matcha pastries aren't just a coincidence. They can't be.

Your inner spiral is abruptly interrupted by a bright, familiar voice calling out behind you.

"Noona!"

You whirl around at the sound like a guilty kid caught stealing candy, heart practically leaping into your throat because you know that voice anywhere. And there he is, the devil himself—Jeon Jungkook, all floppy hair and dumbly wide grin, bounding toward you like an overexcited golden retriever.

He sidesteps a couple of students in his path, his long legs moving with just a little too much energy. Honestly, it's a miracle he doesn't trip.

"I brought you these!" he announces, holding up a plastic bag like it's some kind of trophy. His grin stretches so wide it practically touches his ears, and you hate that your first thought is how stupidly adorable he looks.

Stupid, you think, swiping the bag from his hand. Not adorable. Definitely not adorable. You're sure of it.

Peeking inside, your brows furrow. "Hotteok?"

Jungkook presses his lips together, humming as he nods eagerly. "Yeah! You—" His smile falters just a touch. "You don't like it?"

The way his face drops shouldn't make you feel so guilty, but it does, and it's annoying. "No, uh, I mean…" You struggle for the right words, because… hotteok? Really? You'd been expecting the matcha pastries again. This feels almost purposeful—like he's playing dumb. Is he? Or is this proof that you've been completely off base this whole time?

You're overthinking again. Shaking your head, you wave off the thought entirely. "Yeah, thank you, Jungkook-ah," you mutter, tone softer than you mean it to be.

The banmal slips out without much thought, but the effect it has is immediate. His eyes go wide, and then his whole face lights up in the kind of beam that makes you want to smack yourself for fueling his enthusiasm.

"This is the first time you dropped honorifics with me," he says, looking downright gleeful.

You clench the bag a little tighter and wish you could hate him. Why is he so excited over something so small? Why does it make your chest feel weirdly tight? And why is it so hard to stay annoyed at him when he looks at you like that?

God, this kid.

"Don't get used to it," you mutter gruffly, turning away before the growing warmth in your cheeks betrays you completely.

"So," he begins, falling into step beside you as you start walking toward the journalism building. "What are your plans for today?"

You don't respond. Not out of spite or anything—you're just not in the mood to entertain whatever puppy-dog energy he's radiating right now.

"Writing notes?" he prompts, glancing sideways at you, his tone just a little too hopeful for your liking.

Still, you say nothing.

"Coffee?"

Nope.

"Gonna catch leads for Spider-Man's identity?"

That one makes you stop dead in your tracks. You whirl around so fast he nearly collides with you, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. "Huh?"

His eyes widen marginally, mouth opening and closing like he's trying to come up with a quick excuse. "Taehyung told me!" he blurts, the words tumbling out in a rush.

For a second, you just stare at him, blinking once, then twice. "Huh," you reply, eyebrows quirking upward.

"Yeah!" he adds, voice pitching slightly higher, probably in an effort to sound casual. "He said you were, uh, investigating? Like, Spider-Man and all that? You know, trying to figure out who he is?"

Your head tilts as you study him, arms crossing instinctively. "Did he now?"

"Uh-huh," he nods enthusiastically, though the way his hand rubs at the back of his neck gives him away almost immediately. "I mean, not that I think that's, like, bad or anything? It's cool! Totally cool! I mean, you're a journalist, so, like, it's your job, right? Investigating stuff and—"

"Jungkook."

He freezes, looking way too much like a kid caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

"Why," you ask, narrowing your eyes just slightly, "do you sound like you're trying to convince me not to?"

"I-I'm not! I'm not," he stammers, waving his hands frantically. "I was just, you know, saying! Like, uh, if anyone were trying to find his identity, it'd definitely be you because, uh… you're smart? And observant? And not at all easy to fool?"

Your brow arches higher, his stream of nervous compliments only fueling the suspicion building in your chest.

"Right," you say slowly, dragging out the word as you step closer, watching the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously when your gaze meets his. "So hypothetically…"

"H-Hypothetically," he squeaks, leaning back like he's mentally bracing himself for whatever's coming next.

"If I was trying to find out who Spider-Man is," you continue, voice calm and steady, "you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, now would you?"

The way he freezes, body rigid and eyes darting everywhere but at you, would be funny if it weren't so telling. The sheer panic written all over his face is practically criminal.

"I—uh—no? N-No. Definitely not," he stammers, the pitch of his voice betraying him entirely. "W-Why would I have anything to do with that? I'm just a freshman! I don't even know Spider-Man! I mean, who even is Spider-Man? Could be anyone, right? Crazy world we live in, haha…"

You take a moment to just stare at him, fighting the urge to roll your eyes so hard they might actually get stuck. "Right," you deadpan, turning on your heel to start walking again.

Jungkook exhales audibly behind you, feet scrambling to catch up. "Y-Yeah, right! That's what I thought too!" he says quickly, clearly desperate to steer the conversation in another direction. "Anyway, uh, where were we? Oh! Notes! Are you writing notes today, noona?"

You don't respond. Again. Mostly because you're too busy replaying his very suspicious reaction over and over in your head like a mental highlight reel.

Yeah… no way this kid isn't up to something.

You keep walking, your steps steady, purposeful. Jungkook, as always, trots along beside you like he's afraid you might disappear if he doesn't keep up. And unlike you, who values peace and quiet, Jungkook doesn't seem to understand the concept of shutting up.

"So, like, I was thinking," he starts, voice bright and eager. "If Spider-Man's around all the time, do you think he lives nearby? Like, maybe he's a uni student? Or—or maybe he's secretly a professor? Oh my god, imagine Professor Kim as Spider-Man—he'd probably web someone for being late to class, right? Oh, oh, or he'd use his powers to booby-trap the lecture hall if we don't submit our midterms on time! Haha—what do you think, noona?"

You don't answer.

"And have you noticed he wears, like, the same colors as Yonsei's? Like, blue and red? Do you think that's on purpose? Maybe he's trying to rep the school spirit! Or maybe he's trying to throw us off! Who knows, right? I mean, what's your theory? You must have a theory—you're always so smart about these things—"

"Jungkook," you interject, your voice flat as you stop abruptly in your tracks. He almost trips trying to halt beside you, blinking wide-eyed like he didn't expect you to actually respond.

"Yeah?"

"Don't you have class?" You ask, turning your head just enough for him to see the pointed look you're giving him.

He licks his lips, and you know he's about to lie before the words even leave his mouth. "No?"

"Liar," you deadpan, already turning back to face forward.

"You know my schedule?" he shoots back, voice teasing as he trails after you again.

You roll your eyes but don't give him the satisfaction of a retort. If you respond, he'll just milk it—probably tease you further, or worse, distract you with another string of nonsense questions about Spider-Man. No, you're better off ignoring him.

So, you keep walking. He keeps rambling.

And then—

The sound of a bus engine roaring down the street takes you off guard. You don't even register the rush of movement until it's too late.

Suddenly, there's a firm pressure against your shoulders, and you're stumbling—but not forward, no—backward. Stumbling directly into Jungkook's chest, his arms bracketing your body like they're the only thing stopping you from tumbling straight into the pavement.

Your breath catches, your heart pounding against your ribs. You freeze, blinking up at him in shock. "What the—"

He's close. Too close. His face hovers just inches from yours, his expression wide-eyed and… strained.

"Are you okay?" he blurts, his voice laced with breathless concern like he's just sprinted a marathon.

You don't answer. You can't answer. Because all you can think about is how the hell he even managed to grab you like that.

He was five meters away. Five meters away, Jungkook. There's no way he could've—

"What the fuck," you murmur under your breath, your mind racing a mile a minute as you shove yourself upright, still staring at him like he's grown a second head. "How—when—how the fuck did you just—"

"It was nothing!" he rushes out, cutting you off before you can finish your sentence. His voice cracks, and he's already letting go of you, stepping back like he's afraid of the scrutiny in your eyes. "I-I mean, reflexes? Adrenaline? Fight or flight? Haha…"

You narrow your eyes, suspicious once again. "…Right."

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning red. "Yeah, uh… it's all good. You're fine, right? Totally fine! So, uh… should we—keep walking? Yep, let's keep walking!"

He starts to turn away again, clearly desperate to move on, but you don't budge. You're too busy trying to piece together what just happened, trying to figure out how Jungkook keeps doing things that defy all logic and common sense.

And that's when it hits you.

Spider-Man. Fast reflexes. The ability to move like that without warning. You glance down at his feet, planted firmly on the ground, and then back up at his sheepish grin.

No fucking way.

"I'm leaving."

"No—come on, Tae, you promised!" Jungkook whines, clutching at Taehyung's shoulder like a child trying to stop his older sibling from walking out the door.

Taehyung stops mid-stride, turning to glare at him with an expression that's this close to murderous. "I promised you I'd study with you at the library," he hisses. "Not that we'd come here so you can sit there and drool all over her."

Jungkook freezes, eyes wide. "I—what?!"

"You heard me," Taehyung deadpans, shoving Jungkook's hand off his shoulder.

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Jungkook mumbles, feigning innocence as he suddenly averts his gaze.

Taehyung rolls his eyes so hard it's a miracle they don't get stuck. "Kook, you've been staring at her table since we walked in. Don't even try to deny it."

"I—have not!" Jungkook protests, voice pitching just slightly higher than normal. His head jerks around, and of course his eyes instinctively flicker to your table. The one three meters to the left. The one where you're currently sitting, completely engrossed in your notes, pencil moving methodically across the page like it's the only thing that matters in the world.

You're breathtaking. Ethereal. Like a beam of light in the dull, dusty gloom of the library.

And honestly, Jungkook's not even sure why he's into you. Okay, maybe he's a little sure. Or a lot. But that's not the point—the point is—he is definitely not staring. Not staring, not drooling. Definitely.

"You're doing it right now, man," Taehyung mutters, arms crossed.

"I'm not!"

"You are."

"I'm not! It's just—" Jungkook swallows, gesturing vaguely in your direction. "I was just… checking out the table. It's a nice table! Good wood quality, sturdy legs. The craftsmanship is—"

"Good wood quality?" Taehyung repeats, staring at him like he's lost his mind.

Jungkook groans, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Fine! Okay! Maybe I glanced at her for a second. It's not a crime, hyung!"

Taehyung lets out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's already regretting his life choices. "I am so done with you," he mutters. But even as the words leave his mouth, he walks toward one of the tables anyway and plops his bag down into one of the vacant chairs.

"Sit," he grumbles, motioning vaguely to the chair across from him. "And don't make me regret this."

Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice. He practically trips over himself as he sits, trying to act cool and not-at-all-focused on the fact that you're sitting so close. So close that he can see the faint furrow in your brow as you concentrate, or the way you absentmindedly tap the end of your pencil against your notebook.

He's not staring. Definitely not staring. Probably.

"You're staring again," Taehyung says flatly, not even bothering to look up from his own notes.

"No, I'm not!" Jungkook hisses, slouching lower in his chair.

Taehyung snorts. "Okay, Mr. 'Good Wood Quality.' Sure."

Jungkook tries. He really does. He's here to study—or at least, he's here to pretend to study—and he's determined to do something productive. Something library-like. Something that doesn't involve spending the entire time sneaking glances at you like some lovesick idiot.

So, step one: grab a book. Easy. People in libraries read books, right? He can do that. Simple.

He meanders through the shelves, grabbing the first book that catches his eye. He doesn't even check the title. Doesn't matter. A book's a book.

Step two: sit down. Done. Chair, occupied. Book, open.

Step three: look at the book like he's actually reading it.

He squints at the text, hoping his brain will absorb something through sheer willpower because god knows his mind sure as hell isn't cooperating right now. Every five seconds, it drifts back to the table three meters away, where you're still sitting, still taking notes, still looking unfairly... breathtaking.

"Jungkook," Taehyung mutters, his voice barely above a grumble as he glances up from his own book. "Why the fuck are you reading that?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks, startled, then looks down at the book in his hands for the first time.

Advanced Theoretical Physics.

Oh.

"You don't even study physics," Taehyung points out flatly, his tone dripping with judgment.

Jungkook flushes, slamming the book shut and fumbling to shove it under the table. "I—uh—thought it looked interesting."

Taehyung stares at him. "Sure you did."

Before Jungkook can come up with anything to salvage what's left of his dignity, you—of all people—decide to stand up, and all the air in Jungkook's lungs promptly decides to leave with you.

Oh, god. You're moving. Why are you moving? Where are you going? Should he say something? Should he act casual? Should he—

You shift slightly, gathering your things, and suddenly Jungkook's heart is doing this weird thing where it's racing and stuttering and flipping over itself, and now his body is moving before his brain can even think to stop it.

"Gotta go," he blurts, practically tripping over his chair as he bolts to his feet. "To the bathroom. I have to—pee. Yeah, really super really need to pee right now. See you in a bit!"

Taehyung looks up, stunned, as Jungkook all but sprints toward the library exit. "What the—wait—"

But Jungkook's already halfway across the library, muttering curses under his breath as he tries not to make it obvious that he's absolutely not going to the bathroom.

Taehyung sighs deeply, dragging a hand down his face before muttering to himself, "He's gonna get us banned from this place, isn't he?"

Jungkook's halfway to the library exit, heart pounding, when he realizes something odd.

You're not heading to the exit.

You're not even walking toward the bathroom.

He skids to a stop, trying very hard to play it cool, to act like he's not absolutely clocking your every move. His hands find their way into his hoodie pocket as he leans against the nearest bookshelf, pretending to scan the titles like he's not also sneaking glances at you over his shoulder.

Okay, so you're not leaving. That's fine. Totally normal. You're just… heading deeper into the library. Toward some distant corner, weaving past tables and shelves like you've got some secret mission.

And Jungkook? Jungkook is absolutely not a stalker. He's not. He's just curious. That's it. Normal behavior. Normal library behavior for a normal freshman.

Totally not unhinged.

But then you disappear behind a bookshelf, and his feet are moving before his brain can step on the brakes.

He follows, not too fast—just casual-like. Normal person stuff. Nothing suspicious. His eyes dart between shelves as he tries to spot where you went, his stomach doing this weird twisty thing that's part nerves, part excitement, part oh-god-why-am-I-like-this anxiety.

And just when he thinks he's catching up, just when he rounds the corner of yet another shelf and is about to spot you—

Yank.

Jungkook barely has time to register what's happening before soft hands grab him by the hoodie and pull him into a small, cramped room. His back bumps into something solid—he thinks it's the door—and suddenly you're standing right there, close enough that he can see every detail of your face, from the faint line of concentration on your forehead to the subtle curl of your lips as you exhale sharply.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

"You," you exhale, your voice sharp but quiet. "Have some explaining to do, young mister."

Jungkook's mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His brain is short-circuiting, sparking like a broken circuit board, because—how? Why? When? What?

"I—uh—I—what?" he stammers, blinking rapidly as his eyes dart around the tiny supply closet you've dragged him into. It's all brooms and cleaning supplies and the faint smell of lemon disinfectant, and holy fuck, it is too small in here. You're too close.

"Don't play dumb," you mutter, arms crossing as you lean back just slightly—not enough to give him actual breathing room, but enough to make him feel like he's being scrutinized under a microscope. "You've been acting… weird."

"Weird?" He squeaks, his voice cracking embarrassingly. "Me? Weird? No, I'm not weird! I'm—uh—normal! Super normal! The most normal person ever!"

Your brow arches, the skepticism written all over your face making his knees weak. "Normal people don't act like they've got something to hide," you reply evenly.

"I don't have anything to hide!" he says way too quickly, voice pitching high again.

You don't look convinced. Not one bit.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry as he tries to come up with an excuse, a cover, a way to escape both this tiny-ass room and the weight of your accusing gaze.

But all he can think about is how close you are. How your voice sounds louder in this little space. How your shampoo smells faintly like citrus. How utterly and completely trapped he feels—not just against the door, but under the intensity of your stare.

And he's so screwed. So screwed.

"The bus thing," you say, and Jungkook feels his entire soul leave his body for approximately three seconds before crash-landing right back into his chest with a painful thud.

"What bus thing?" he asks, trying for innocent confusion, but his voice comes out more like a strangled whisper. "There are lots of bus things. Buses are everywhere. Seoul's public transport system is very efficient and—"

"Three days ago," you cut him off, eyes narrowing. "When I almost got hit."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

The memory hits him like a freight train. Three days ago. That stupid bus driver who didn't see you crossing. The way his heart had stopped dead in his chest when he realized you were about to—and he'd just—without thinking—

He'd used his webs.

On you.

In broad daylight.

As Jungkook.

Not Spider-Man.

Just... regular freshman Jeon Jungkook, who definitely shouldn't have access to web-shooters or superhuman reflexes or the ability to yank someone out of harm's way from five meters away.

"I don't—" he starts, but his mouth is dry, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth. "That was just—"

"Just what?" you press, leaning closer. "Just adrenaline? Just reflexes? Just another totally normal thing that totally normal freshmen do?"

"Yes?" he squeaks, pressing himself further against the shelf on his back like he might somehow phase through it if he tries hard enough.

Your eyes narrow further. "Really."

"Really!" He nods frantically. "I mean, haven't you heard those stories? About moms lifting cars off their kids? Same thing! Totally the same thing. Chemistry major stuff. Very scientific. Fight or flight response. Cortisol. Adrenaline. Biology... things."

"You're not a chemistry major."

"I could be!"

"You're in communications."

"...Minor in chemistry?"

You stare at him for a long moment, and Jungkook swears he can feel sweat beginning to bead at the back of his neck. This closet is too small. The air is too thick. You're too close, and your eyes are too sharp, and oh god, he's really messed up this time hasn't he?

"Jungkook," you say, voice low and steady. "How exactly did you pull me away from that bus?"

"I... ran really fast?"

"You were five meters away."

"I'm... very athletic?"

"Five meters, Jungkook."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Would you believe me if I said I've been working out?"

The look you give him could probably melt steel. "Try again."

"Yoga?"

"Jungkook."

"Pilates?"

You lean even closer, if that's possible, and Jungkook's pretty sure his heart is about to explode right out of his chest. "One more chance," you murmur. "Tell me the truth."

And god, he wants to. He really, really wants to. Because you're right there, looking at him with those eyes that see right through him, and he's tired of lying, tired of pretending, tired of—

"I just..." he starts, voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't let you get hurt."

Your expression softens, just slightly, but your gaze remains unwavering. "How did you do it?"

"I—"

Just as Jungkook's about to bolt, there's a distinct click that makes both of you freeze.

"What the—?" You whirl around, pushing past him to grab the handle. It doesn't budge. You try again, yanking harder this time. Nothing.

"You must be fucking kidding me," you mutter under your breath, jiggling the handle with increasing frustration.

And that's when Jungkook realizes several things at once:

1. Someone's locked you two in.

2. The closet is tiny.

3. You're pressed up against him trying to open the door.

4. Your ass is—

Oh god.

Oh god.

This cannot be happening. Not again. Not after the coffee shop incident. Not after he literally had to swing away to deal with his... situation.

"Fuck," he breathes, trying to press himself further into the piece of furniture behind him, but there's nowhere to go. The shelves dig into his back as he attempts to create even an inch of space between your bodies.

His hands hover awkwardly at his sides, not daring to touch you, not daring to move. His breath catches in his throat as you shift again, still wrestling with the door handle, completely oblivious to the way each movement sends sparks of electricity through his entire body.

"Hey!" you call out, banging on the door. "This isn't funny!"

Focus on something else, Jungkook tells himself desperately. Anything else. Math. Chemistry. Professor Kim's boring lectures. That time Jimin ate an entire jar of kimchi and—

You shift again, and Jungkook has to bite his lip to suppress a strangled noise.

"Seriously," you growl, hitting the door again. "Whoever's out there better unlock this right now or I swear to god—"

Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts. Dead puppies. Tax forms. Spidey suit chafing. Anything but how soft you feel against—

"Jungkook?" Your voice cuts through his desperate mental gymnastics. "You okay? You're breathing kind of weird."

"Fine!" he squeaks, voice way too high to be convincing. "Totally fine! Just, uh... claustrophobic! Very claustrophobic. Super claustrophobic. Did I mention I'm claustrophobic?"

You turn your head slightly, and even in the dim light, he can see your brow furrow. "Since when?"

"Since... right now?"

Another shift of your hips as you try the handle again, and Jungkook has to close his eyes, silently praying to whatever deity might be listening to either kill him now or get him out of this situation before he combusts from sheer embarrassment.

Because if you notice... if you realize... oh god, he'll never live it down. He'll have to transfer schools. Change his name. Move to a different country. Become a hermit in the mountains where no one will ever find him—

"Can you try pushing while I pull?" you ask, completely unaware of his internal crisis.

Jungkook makes a sound that might be agreement, might be distress, might be his soul leaving his body. He's not really sure anymore.

All he knows is that he's trapped in a closet with you, with your body pressed against his, and his spidey-sense is absolutely no help because apparently it doesn't warn him about situations that might kill him from pure mortification.

"Jungkook?" you prompt again, and he realizes he hasn't moved to help with the door.

"Right!" he says quickly, voice cracking. "Sorry! Just... give me a second to... uh... mentally prepare."

You snort. "For pushing a door?"

"Yes," he says weakly, because what else can he say? 'Sorry, I need a minute because you feel too good pressed against me and I'm trying very hard not to embarrass myself'?

Yeah, no. He'd rather die.

Jungkook does what you say. He really does. He plants his palms flat against the door, muscles tensing as he tries to push in time with your pulls. But it's too much. Too much to focus on, too close, too you.

His very healthy, very 21-year-old brain is absolutely screaming some unfortunate, very, very filthy thoughts right now, and no amount of silently yelling at himself to stop it, stop it, STOP IT seems to be working.

Push and pull. Yeah, he's thinking of that in an entirely different context, and honestly, sue him. He's a guy. A guy experiencing literal hell because your ass keeps brushing against him every time you shift, and it's doing things to him.

You move again, and Jungkook swears he's going to lose it. Like, right here. On the spot. His knees are weak, his palms are sweating, and his brain is running on some kind of autopilot loop of, "Abort mission! Shut it down! This is a disaster!"

Fuck him. Fuck his life. Just take him now, death. Send the reaper. Hell, send Taehyung to throw him into the Han River. Anything but this.

But then—just as his brain reaches critical overload—you stiffen.

Oh no.

You turn your head slightly, glancing at him over your shoulder, and the look in your eyes is... not great. In fact, it's terrifying.

"Jungkook," you say, his name an ominous warning.

His whole body seizes, every alarm in his mind blaring at full volume as sweat beads at the back of his neck. "Yeah?" he squeaks, his voice cracking so hard he wants to dig his own grave and lie in it.

"Are you hard?"

Oh, fuck.

Oh FUCK.

His brain short-circuits. His entire being freezes. His soul? Gone. It has left the building. His vision blurs at the edges as the words echo around the tiny closet, bouncing off every surface and hitting him square in the chest over and over again.

"I—uh—what?" he stammers, his voice so high-pitched it might as well be a dog whistle.

You straighten, still half-facing him, and your brow furrows with that look of realization that makes him want to throw himself into the sun.

"You are," you say, your tone shifting between disbelief and a growing edge of... amusement?

"I—I—no—what? No, I'm not! That's—no, that's ridiculous!" He tries to back away automatically, but there's nowhere to go, and his shoulders slam against the wood behind him.

You fully turn at this point, arms crossing as you raise a suspicious eyebrow. "Really, Jungkook?" Your eyes drift ever so slightly downward, and oh no oh no oh no don't look down don't look down don't look down.

He flails. Not physically, thankfully, but mentally? He's losing it. He's scrambling for something, anything, to salvage even a shred of dignity.

"It's—it's not what you think!" he blurts out, his hands flying up defensively. "It's—it's the—the door! Yeah! This stupid closet! I told you I was claustrophobic, right? That's gotta... do something... biologically... right?"

You stare at him, unimpressed. Completely, utterly unimpressed.

"It's not me," he continues, voice cracking again because his body is betraying him. "It's—it's like—science! Random reaction!"

"...Random reaction." Your expression is unreadable now, which somehow makes this worse.

"Totally random," he insists, nodding way too quickly. "You know, like... blood flow! Hormones! Human anatomy! It's a thing! You can look it up!"

"Oh, I'll look it up," you mutter, the corner of your mouth twitching like you're trying very hard not to laugh.

"Please don't," Jungkook whispers, his face burning so hot he's genuinely worried the fire alarm's going to go off.

And honestly? He doesn't even care if the fire alarm goes off at this point. He'd happily burn in this library right now if it meant escaping the absolute mortification of this moment.

Jungkook is fairly certain he's about to pass out, maybe die, and definitely disintegrate into dust when it happens. You turn around, shift again, just slightly, your body brushing against him in a way that feels… deliberate?

Or is his brain just playing tricks on him now?

Oh god. Oh fuck. Is this some cruel, sick hallucination brought on by his overactive imagination? Is his mind punishing him for thinking all those filthy, traitorous thoughts earlier? Why can't he have some kind of superpower to read minds right now? Be Professor X or some shit, because at this point, anything would be better than not knowing what the hell is going through your head right now.

Do you think he's a creep? A weirdo? A perverted little freshman who can't keep it together for five fucking minutes?

Or—

The thought makes his stomach flip violently, a spark of something hot—and definitely dangerous—shooting down his spine as you shift again.

Or do you find this… fun?

Amusing?

Arousing?

Because there's something about the way you're not stepping back, the way you're not recoiling in disgust, the way your breaths are just slightly heavier than before, that's making Jungkook's head spin.

And then you chuckle—low, quiet, but unmistakable.

"This is the first time this has ever happened to me," you mutter, the sound light but laced with something he can't quite name.

But he doesn't care what it's laced with. He doesn't even care what it means.

Because oh god, that chuckle—he'd bottle it if he could. He'd trap it in a jar and keep it with him forever, listen to it on repeat like a favorite playlist, let it echo in his head until he went insane from the sound of it alone.

His mouth opens, but no words come out. His body is frozen, his brain completely fried, every single one of his senses hyper-focused on the fact that you're still right there, pressed against him, closer than you've ever been before.

Say something, dumbass, his brain screams at him. Anything. Literally anything.

"I—it's not my fault?" he manages weakly, his voice cracking so pathetically he wants to punch himself.

You laugh again, and this time there's no mistaking it—there's something mischievous in it, like you're enjoying watching him squirm. And oh no, oh god, you're enjoying this.

"I didn't say it was," you reply, your voice smooth, calm, fucking deadly.

Jungkook swallows hard. His legs feel like they're about to give out any second now. His palms are clammy. His heart is doing that thing where it feels like it's both racing and stopping entirely at the same time.

"I—uh—should we try the door again?" he stammers, trying desperately to redirect the situation before his entire body spontaneously combusts from the sheer tension in the air.

You hum softly, not answering right away, and Jungkook feels every muscle in his body tense in response.

You keep moving, but now it's with purpose—up and down motions that are too deliberate to be anything but intentional. Like you're actually trying to... to get him off. Right here. In this tiny closet. In the fucking library.

Jungkook's mind is gone. Absolutely fucking gone. His consciousness has left his body, floating somewhere near the ceiling as he tries to process what's happening. He's honestly shocked he hasn't passed out yet, given how fast his blood is rushing south.

His hands hover awkwardly over your hips, trembling with the effort not to touch. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, desperate to hold back the embarrassing sounds threatening to escape. Because he refuses to pant like some desperate animal, even though that's exactly what you're reducing him to.

But then—oh fuck—you reach back, grabbing his hands. And before his brain can catch up, you're placing them firmly on your hips.

"It's okay," you murmur, your voice low and honey-sweet. "You can touch me."

The permission makes him shudder, a full-body tremor that he couldn't suppress if he tried. Your hand slides over his, guiding it upward, and his breath catches in his throat as you move it higher, and higher, and—

Oh god.

You press his palm against your breast, and Jungkook's brain completely flatlines.

A pathetic whimper escapes him before he can stop it. His fingers twitch against the soft swell under your shirt, and he's pretty sure he's died. This is death. This is heaven. This is some kind of fever dream his horny brain has cooked up.

"Is this really happening?" he whispers, his voice raw and desperate. "Like, actually happening? Not just another dream or—"

He cuts himself off, realizing what he just admitted, but it's too late. The words are already out there, hanging in the heated air between you.

"Another dream?" you repeat, and he can hear the smirk in your voice. "You dream about this often, Jungkook-ah?"

Fuck.

"Way too often," he confesses, the words spilling from his mouth before his brain can catch up. And yeah, that's definitely because his mind has completely checked out. Because normal Jungkook? Coherent Jungkook? Would rather die than admit something like that.

But normal Jungkook isn't here right now. Normal Jungkook left the building the moment you pressed his hand to your breast. Now there's just... this Jungkook. The one who can't think straight because you're letting him squeeze and touch and feel, and your ass is doing absolutely criminal things against his cock.

His forehead drops to your neck, breath coming in heavy pants that he can't control anymore. Fuck trying to be quiet. Fuck trying to be composed. His hips move on their own, grinding forward to match your rhythm.

Because you gave him permission, right? You said he could touch. You guided his hands. So this is okay. This is allowed. This isn't just another fevered fantasy his desperate brain cooked up at 3 AM.

"Noona," he breathes against your skin, the honorific slipping out again because his filter is completely gone. His fingers flex against your breast, testing, exploring, learning what makes your breath hitch. "Fuck."

You guide his movements with a confidence that makes his head spin, showing him exactly how to touch you. His fingers find your nipple through the fabric, and the way it peaks under his touch makes him dizzy with want. Your hand stays over his, encouraging him to squeeze, to explore, to learn.

And Jungkook? He's never been this hard in his entire fucking life.

He's pathetic, really. Getting this worked up from some dry humping and breast play like he's fifteen instead of twenty-one. Sure, they're absolutely amazing tits—perfect, actually, fitting in his palm like they were made for his touch—but still. He's broadcasting his virginity like a fucking neon sign, getting this desperate this fast.

But he can't help it. Can't stop the way his hips keep rolling against you, seeking more friction, more pressure, more. He knows he's close—can feel it building in his abdomen, that telltale tingling that makes his toes curl in his stupid mismatched socks.

"Noona," he whimpers against your shoulder, the sound muffled by your shirt. "Noona, I'm—fuck—"

His breath comes in sharp, desperate pants. He's making these absolutely embarrassing sounds—little whimpers and moans he has to muffle against your skin because if anyone heard him like this, he'd actually die on the spot.

The pressure builds, and builds, and builds, until he's grinding back helplessly, practically sobbing because it feels so good he can't stand it. His free hand grips your hip like a lifeline, probably too hard, definitely leaving marks, but he can't help it.

"Please," he chokes out, though he's not sure what he's begging for. "Please, I'm—I can't—"

He's going to come in his pants like a fucking teenager, and the worst part? He doesn't even care anymore.

"It's okay, Jungkook-ah," you murmur, voice honey-sweet and deadly. "Let go for noona."

And that's—that should be illegal. The way those words hit him is criminal, making his whole body seize up like he's been electrocuted. His hips stutter, losing rhythm as everything goes white-hot. He groans against your shoulder, embarrassingly loud even muffled against the fabric, as his orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train.

He came. He just—he actually just—came in his pants. Like some inexperienced kid who's never been touched before.

Mortifying. Absolutely fucking mortifying.

A hiccup escapes him, something between a sob and a whimper, and he wants to disappear. To evaporate. To cease existing entirely.

"Hey," you whisper, so soft it makes his chest ache. Your hand reaches back, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck, and his skin erupts in goosebumps immediately at the gentle touch.

He wants to cry. Wants to apologize. Wants to explain that he's not usually this pathetic (lie), that he can last longer than three minutes (another lie), that he's not always this embarrassingly eager (the biggest lie of all).

But the words stick in his throat like clay, thick and suffocating. Because what can he possibly say? 'Sorry I just creamed my pants from some dry humping and titty grabbing?'

"It's okay," you murmur, and another hiccup escapes him.

No. No, don't do that. Don't pity him. Don't say those words like anything about this situation is remotely okay. Because it's not. It's the furthest thing from okay. He just—he literally just—

"I really liked that," you add, voice soft but sure.

Jungkook's head snaps up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. "What?"

You… liked it? How could you possibly have liked that? He barely lasted three minutes. He came in his pants like a middle schooler. He probably squeezed your tit too hard and left bruises on your hip and made the most embarrassing sounds and—

"How?" he croaks out, voice raw and disbelieving. "How could you—that was so—I'm so—"

Pathetic. Desperate. Inexperienced. Embarrassing.

His brain supplies about fifty different self-deprecating adjectives, but none of them make it past his lips because he's still trying to process the fact that you said you liked it.

The dam breaks.

Jungkook is crying. Tears spill over his flushed cheeks, unbidden and hot with shame, and oh god, he's really lost it now. He's crying, actually fucking crying, because apparently, being mortified isn't enough. No, his body has to betray him in every possible way all at once.

His blurred vision catches you turning around to face him, and then your hands—soft, warm—reach up to gently brush the tears away from his eyelids. The gesture makes him hiccup, and he immediately wants to crawl under the floorboards and die.

"It was cute," you murmur, and your tone is soft but steady, like you actually mean it.

"Don't say that," he mumbles, voice cracking as he ducks his head, his tears threatening to spill faster. He can't handle this. He really, really can't.

You smile—a smile so kind it feels like a dagger to his chest. "Why? I'm not lying."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"It was so embarrassing!" he bursts out, the words tumbling from his mouth in one long, panicked string. "I made such embarrassing sounds and—and I—I came in my pants and—"

"It's what I wanted," you interrupt, your words cutting through his spiraling like a blade.

He freezes, the tears still clinging to his lashes. His breath catches, the air suddenly clammy.

"...What?" he croaks, the word so small and broken it barely makes it past his lips. His mind blanks, unable to process what he just heard. Surely he misheard you, right? Surely this is some kind of cruel, shame-induced hallucination because there's no way.

"It's what I wanted," you repeat, your voice unwavering as you look him straight in the eye, your gaze too steady, too certain.

His breathing stutters. His tears momentarily forgotten, he stares at you, wide-eyed and silent, like you've just flipped his entire world upside down.

Your hand is still on his cheek, thumb brushing away the lingering wetness under his eye, and Jungkook can't look away from your face. Can't process the way you're looking at him—soft but certain, like you actually meant what you just said.

"But—" he starts, voice wavering. "But why would you—I mean, I—" He swallows hard, his face burning. "I barely even touched you. I just... got off on you like some desperate—"

"Because," you cut him off, your other hand coming up to frame his face, holding him still when he tries to look away. "I liked making you fall apart like that. Liked knowing I could affect you that much."

His breath catches. "But—"

"And," you continue, your thumb trailing down to brush over his bottom lip, making him shiver. "I liked how honest you were. How you couldn't hide how much you wanted it."

Jungkook's brain short-circuits again. Because what the fuck? What the actual fuck? You liked that he was desperate? That he was pathetic and needy and—

"The sounds you made," you murmur, leaning closer, close enough that he can feel your breath against his lips. "Were fucking hot."

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, caught somewhere between a whimper and a groan. Because this can't be real. This has to be some kind of fever dream. Some kind of post-orgasm hallucination.

"Noona," he breathes, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure if he's allowed to touch you again. "I—"

And then the door clicks.

Both of you freeze, heads snapping toward the sound. Light floods the closet as the door swings open, and there stands Taehyung, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Time's up, lovebirds!" he announces cheerfully. "Did you two work out your... tension?"

Jungkook is going to kill him. He's actually going to murder his best friend. Right after he dies of embarrassment. Again.

"Hyung," he croaks out, face burning hotter than the sun. "Did you—was this—did you plan this?!"

Taehyung just grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "You're welcome!"

Yeah, Jungkook is definitely going to kill him.

Just... maybe after he changes his pants.

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[noemilivv]

Here I am with the ask!!! I was wondering if I could request headcanons for Adam, Alastor, Lucifer, Vox and Lute with how they would be with a sloth like S/o. I saw someone ask this on a blog I follow and I was stoked, I love this concept so much it's so funny I decided it's my favorite. INSANELY sleepy s/o, they sleep ALL the time and still manage to be super sleepy, they'd be walking down the street? They randomly fall asleep while walking, needless to say that's very dangerous in hell. In heaven a bit less, but let's say falling asleep while flying is definetely dangerous too. They're talking to someone? They might be trying to pay attention but still can't help help falling asleep, characters like Adam and Luci would definetely have no problem with that tho. They are incredibly slow, and also have the sloth tendency to climb(for the tall ones) and cling to said partner and hang onto them like ragdolls. They can stay awake if they replenish the energy they use immediately or by being monitored, but they're very concerning. I imagine warm milk would probably knock them out cold, coffee probably does little to nothing, maybe a huge amount would keep them on the brink of consciousness lol. (Sorry this got long, that's how much I find this concept hilarious, you don't actually have to include all everything I said if you don't wanna I was just rambling)

heyy again!! this is so cute and honestly i’m fangirling at the ideas i have for this haha, enjoy!!

Adam, Alastor, Lucifer, Lute, and Vox x Sloth!Reader

Adam

There’s a solid chance he makes fun of you for your sleepy antics, but only he can do that, no one else!

Unlike Hell, if you fall asleep on the side of the road in Heaven, he’ll just toss ya over his shoulder like nothing happened

Honestly, Adam is pretty tall, and he’s got a bit of muscle under his fit, so he doesn’t mind a bit if you climb about him and all that

Alastor

Honestly, Alastor doesn’t mind your sleepy antics, it gives him an opportunity to get whatever he needs done for that time until you awake again

Although, he probably won’t let you climb him though, due to his dislike of physical touch, but dw he’ll let you cling to him a bit

If you start to daze off while he’s talking he won’t mind, his smile will soften, and he’ll tug you to his chest, talking you to sleep

Lucifer

You guys don’t go out much, so it’s not often you fall asleep on the streets, but if you do, he’ll pick you up bridal style, he won’t make a big fuss about it, at least until you get home

Like Alastor, if you fall asleep mid convo, he won’t mind, he’ll just bring you to his chest and talk you to sleep

Although he is on the shorter side, if you wanna climb him, he’ll certainly let you! He thinks it’s the cutest thing!

Lute

Honestly, Lute hates it when you sleep a lot, as because of her job, she’s busy most of the time and can’t see you, so when she does see you, and you’re asleep, it’s eh…

If you climb on her, she’ll tense up a bit, but she won’t deny it, but there’s a chance she will the first few times. Affection is new to her.

Vox

He’s another tall one, so you could climb on him, but he’s a bit of a twig tbh, so he might not be able to hold you 😭

If you fall asleep during conversation, he’ll be all pissy, but if you fall asleep ON him, bro glitches so bad

Tried to make sure you don’t fall alseep on the streets in the first place, but if you do, bitch is waking you up, ain’t no way he’s carrying you

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Which op yan do you think would be the most annoying texter in a modern au?? I think sanji would drive me insane, I know he'd be texting nonstop. I also think buggy would ask his romantic interest if they'd still love him as a worm. Many times.

Sanji would be so excessive. You have to put your phone on do not disturb just to have a moment's peace. It literally never ends.

Sanji: Good morning, my love! It's another beautiful day of being able to call you mine 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

*pic attached*

Sanji: Here's the breakfast I'm making you! I'll bring it over as soon as it's done 😋😘

-

*sends a pic of any two things next to each other*

Sanji: This is literally us 🥺

-

Sanji: I just wanted to say again how much I love you💞❤️🩷💕💞💓🩷💕💞 (he says this even though he saw you in person three minutes ago and said the exact same thing then)

-

Sanji: Where did you go???? Are you mad at me??????? Have you been kidnapped?????????

Sanji: Oh wait never mind I see you now

Sanji: I'm calling your name why are you running the other way?

Buggy is someone who needs constant reassurance, and he uses having your phone number as a means to constantly get that from you. But like he's also very dramatic about it.

Buggy: do u hate me now? say it to my face at least

You: literally what are you talking about?

Buggy: I asked you a question and you ignored me!

You: I was gone for like 2 minutes????

Buggy: AND???? Why were you gone???

You: I was ordering some food for us but nvm I'm gonna go home and eat it all myself 😒

Buggy: ...

Buggy: I'm sorry please don't hate me for real now 🥺🥺🥺 I love you so much baby please don't leave me 😭😭😭

Zoro is on the opposite end of the spectrum because he doesn't text excessively, but you are lucky to get more than a one word response out of him. You could send him a several paragraph long text spilling your guts to him and all you'll get from him is a "k" or "alright" or "👍". If you send more than two texts in a row, he'll tell you to just call him if you're going to yap that much.

Luffy doesn't text, he sends voice memos. Not only does he send an absurd amount of them, but they're also all stupidly long because he gets distracted and rambles to his heart's content. What was supposed to be a simple voice memo asking if his jacket is at your place comes to you with a 31:46 time on it because he saw a cool looking beetle outside and just had to tell you about it in the memo. Half the time he forgets that he isn't actually on the phone with you and will ask a question several times before he remembers.

Doflamingo sends a lot of texts, but all of them are voice to text and are almost entirely unintelligible. The voice to text function wasn't designed to interpret his weird inflections and maniacal laughter. He also has a tendency to talk to other people in the middle of sending a text to you, so you have a whole ass random conversation smack in the middle of the text. He then has the audacity to have an attitude with you when you didn't catch the important thing he told you.

With Ace, you're going to feel like you're communicating via hieroglyphics because of how many of his messages to you are just memes/reaction images. He won't elaborate and lets you figure out what they mean. Did he just find that meme funny, or is there a hidden message in it? Who knows.

And then you have all of the old men (Sengoku, Garp, Whitebeard, etc) who can't text for shit and will send a series of unintelligible and confused texts before sending a very defeated "please call me"

[pastel-medic]

So, wait, if Axel is the Spy that Red Medic removed the head of, how are they in a relationship? Wouldn't that spawn some kind of resentment?

I'm going to trigger warn this post for topics of s//cide, depression, and poor health because I can't exactly explain their dynamic without getting into Axel's mental health. I tried to make this as brief as I could but it ended up becoming an oc ramble anyway 😭 sorry in advance for the long post!!!

Also please note my personal lore and hcs for them isn't strictly based on canon lore, so RED Medic having Axel's head in fridge is due to different reasons than just being a crazy doctor :V

You have been warned!!!

This will be delving a bit more into Axel's character, and a lot of this I will try not to spoil too much as it is a plot point in an ongoing fic I'm writing.

Axel is, to put it simply, someone who struggles immensely with self identity and has a very nihilistic point of view. Working as a Spy for years since he was young has created a sense of worthlessness in his mind, as he viewed himself as a nobody who wears the faces of other people (especially after an incident that I won't detail since it's spoilers). He hasn't been able to hold relationships because he constantly "changes his identity", adopting a new fake name and fake history with every new assignment he's given while leaving the people he once formed bonds with behind once his work is done.

On top of that the people who had taught him to be a Spy often compared him constantly to his brother Pierre (RED Spy), so he never felt like he was good enough. He developed depression when he was a young adult and hasn't been able to cope in healthy ways, which led to him having very poor health and malnutrition. Every time he was offered help and support he rejected it out of fear and ran away (metaphorically and literally), the folly of pride and the guilt of being a burden to someone else. He's had many s//cidal tendencies (a lot of Axel is split from my personal trauma so bear with me), and believed that if he were to just disappear one day nobody would notice. He's waiting, HOPING, that one day he can just disappear forever...

So when he's taken by the RED Medic as a mere head in a fridge imagine his confusion when the enemy doctor refuses to kill him immediately no matter what he says. "Kill me" he keeps saying. "Later" is the only response he gets. Yet the doctor doesn't ever seem to want to. At first Axel thinks it's because of scientific curiosity, and he'd be right at first, but that's not the real reason Medic keeps him around. As it turns out Ludwig has a slightly twisted and odd excuse for keeping him around.

Seeing the Spy in a state of self destruction and withering health hurts Ludwig as a medical professional. A doctor's duty to heal others is something that even with his crazy mind still remains true. He can't help but feel the need to heal this person, his own enemy, who has become nearly broken beyond repair. He wants to help the Spy, but his solution is pretty bizarre and unconventional. If he keeps the Spy around he can try to heal the brokenness in his mind. As a head in a fridge he can't run away from the help offered to him. He realizes he doesn't want to just heal the Spy, he wants to help him; He wants to give Axel that feeling of value in his life that he struggles to have. He wants to be the person who can save Axel no matter how insane his methods are, a Don Quixote.

He wants to help Spy live.

"You are not the masks you wear, nor are you a nobody without them. You are you. And you are important no matter what."

As foolish as this logic is it's effective, as it doesn't give Spy that door to escape to. Now he HAS to see the damage to himself. Though the longer Spy stays with the enemy Medic the more he can see that he isn't the only one who needs healing. Out of all the people Ludwig can heal, he doesn't seem to be able to want to heal himself. All of his struggles are private, and he keeps the pain hidden away behind closed doors. It seems Spy is not alone when it comes to blocking others out. Medic knows he has sins crawling up his back, yet he actively pretends the Devil on his shoulder isn't there. Yet the more he ignores his mental strain the more volatile and unstable it becomes. He cannot see the damage he is inflicting on himself, and Spy knows he will continue to turn a blind eye unless he sees the harm it is causing. Regardless of how crazy it is, he realizes he wants to help the doctor too.

Spy wants to be someone who can help Medic see his self worth, a mirror to show him that he is more than simply a healer for others.

"How can you help those around you if you refuse to help yourself? You are deserving of healing too."

TL;DR to reiterate one of my previous posts about my MedicSpy ship their dynamic has always been about healing and finding security and comfort in someone who cares about you. Yes they have their flaws and are not perfect by any means, but they uplift and support each other because they care.

[kuschelkissen]

Trying to sort my thoughts, but man... the more we see of the Villains here, the more I'm... very confused.

Probably long and rambly under the cut, sorry for everyone who reads it lol

They're all somehow... off.

Xia Fei is somewhat of a dork, his cool/arrogant attitude that we see in his shootings and most official artworks seems more and more like an act, while the somewhat whiny, a bit hyperactive persona seems... legit?

Like. I can see him acting like that with Shiguang, but why would he act like that with Liu Xiao? Or Vein? Vein, who told Liu Xiao that you (he?) can read what's on Xia Fei's mind on his face (and immediately proven right lol). Vein, who also DISLIKES LYING?? Uh. Yeah, so that was a bit of a surprise on his character sheet??

Edit: Since it has been brought up that his song heavily implies that already: I didn't interpret it that way. I read it as he's open with/about his intentions and doesn't (need to) lie to win in a fight, and that it's useless to lie to him since he will see through it anyway. I guess I can see how this can be read as having strong principles about lying.

Though my gf pointed out that he probably doesn't like being lied to, which, tbf, is a different thing lol. But point still stands, so, do I have to assume that Xia Fei just is... LIKE THAT? (I don't mind, I love that he's silly lol)

Ok, so. Vein. Vein, hng, I have no idea what to make of him, tbh. His PV shows him as this unhinged, creepy menace (and that's also what we see in Lu Guang's nightmares/memories. "What? You want more punishment?"), we see him like a bit of a stalker in Xia Fei's PV, and... what we see in canon is...

We see him fight Shiguang and try to shoot Lu Guang, shooting Cheng Xiaoshi in the process. We still don't know WHY he's doing that (two more episodes to go... how is that gonna work out 😭). We also see him save Xia Fei from those assholes trying to freaking DROWN him.

The first thing he says to Cheng Xiaoshi is "You look tasty", and... uh, yeah, that's odd, don't say that, ESPECIALLY not in that tone omfg. But to Xia Fei he says "What, that was supposed to be a compliment!"

We see him flick off Xia Fei's forehead, and then petting his head. ... ok, that was cute, what the hell is your relationship???

We don't see, but we know that he told Liu Xiao about Xia Fei's upcoming birthday? Why, what was the context here?? |D

His character sheet is, uh... something? Like, I get that LC has a tendency to keep stuff from us, so we don't officially KNOW that (if???) he actually is a mob boss, so it only says he owns a model agency and is head of the chinese chamber of commerce?

His skills... are that he's good at card games and can shake dice to line up straight? WTF?? He's a pretty good fighter, why isn't that on the skill list |D

(he likes eating... guys, stop that)

Dislikes: lying. LYING. WhAT. And then the first thing he does is pretending not to speak chinese, I guess?

So why is he friends with Liu Xiao, Mr Master Manipulator?? Though have we seen him lie yet? I mean, apart from kinda playing the poor student.

And Liu Xiao... what is his deal (apart from being really bad at making friends I guess lol)

UGH, I hate it, you can't believe ANYTHING ANYONE says and does, can't trust any official info because it's not like they didn't lie before, two more eps to go and I'm really just sitting here with questionmarks all over my face LMAO

[cumulo-stratus]

“Lend Me Some Vanilla?”

Pairing:spencer x Baker!reader

Description: Y/n goes to spencers house to ask spencer if he has any vanilla extract when theres a possible gas leak and no ones allowed to leave their aparment until the morning when someone can come check it out..

Warnings: fluff, one eensy weensy curse

Flufftober Day 14: Locked in/trapped

A/N: ik the "Gas leak" is shit but I couldn't figure something else out I'm sry guys😭😭

"knock knock knock" 

Spencers attention was pulled from his book by the sound a of a knock at the door. Wondering who it was- Spencer hoisted himself from his comfortable spot on the large leather couch to answer the door. 

“creakkk”

as the light of the hallway bled into the much more dimly lit apartment, a man in sweatpants, a white shirt that read “bad-ass baker” is a rainbow font (u know the meme font im talking abt), and an apron with bits of flower and egg splattered over it.

“hi im so sorry spencer- but i really need some vanilla extract- im on my last batch of cookies and i ran out. I would ask if it wasn’t super necessary but since i had to close my bakery because its under renovations right now, so to make money i’ve been doing orders and making them from home and i need to get these cookies done tonight im so sorry-“

“i have vanilla..”

spencer cut off his neighbors rambling, silently inviting him inside while he fetched the vanilla.

“thank you so much by the way, i can make you something as thanks!”

y/n stood awkwardly behind the couch, eyes surveying the room. spencers back was to the common area, his arm outstretched to reach the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. Spencers body language was comfortable, as he and y/n had been friends since he moved in 2 years ago, and he knew the baker well. spencer knew him as the neighbor with silly shirts and a bakery, and the neighbor that gave him the extras that didnt get sold at the end of the day in little plastic take out containers. 

“Oh no its okay the leftovers from your bakery are thanks enough”

spencer said with a chuckle, and y/n laughed too. And just as spencer was walking over both y/n and his phones dinged from the pocket of y/ns apron and the coffee table where spencer had left it when he got the door. Y/n pulled out his phone, seeing a text from the landlord. As y/n read his face fell, getting the attention of spencer and causing him to ask;

“What? Is something wrong?”

“check your texts- Larry sent something about how we cant leave our apartments..”

The look on spencers face was one of confusion, and he grew even more confused when he read the text detailing that no one was to leave their apartment- at any cost because of a possible gas leak, meaning they had to send people to check in the morning- but until then Larry didn’t want to risk it. 

“soooooo.. what do i do know?”

y/n looked to spencer for guidance, wondering what to do. spencer didn’t quite know either, but being the rule follower he is he decided the best course of action was for y/n to stay. He also knew the statistics of gas leaks and how dangerous they could be- so he wasn’t taking any chances. 

“well, i dont know how safe it is to be in the hallways right now, its probably best if you stay here until morning, or at least for a couple hours until Larry can get someone in here to check it out..”

now if this was most anyone else y/n would’ve just declined and held his breath while he walked the 10 feet to his door down the hall, but this was spencer. And much to no ones surprise, y/n had been crushing on the FBI agent from afar for 6 months now. He was in love with his style, his apartment (from what he’d seen), his face, his hair. Y/n had a tendency to romanticize things, just ask his friends, and this was the perfect opportunity. So when spencer proposed he stated over night just to be safe, y/n agreed almost immediately.

“ya i should probably stay the night, just to be safe you know? And by the way, if im staying over night do you mind if i put my apron in your kitchen? i dont wanna get flour on your couch…”

spencer chuckled and nodded, using his chin to point towards the kitchen where y/n could leave his dirtied apron. After y/n left his apron splayed out on the counter, abandoned spencer chuckled at his shirt, which was now visible. When y/n noticed spencers laughs he looked at him confused, following his line of sight, and he was met with his shirt. 

“oh ya- my shirt? i got it as a joke gift from a friend- and i couldn’t help myself”

they both chuckled at this while y/n moved across the room to join spencer where he had taken his spot on the large leather couch back. Y/n plopped down next to spencers, sitting as far away from him as he could without it it being awkward- or at least more awkward than it already was. because little did Y/n know but spencer had been simultaneously admiring y/n from across the hall. And when y/n suggested they watch a show spencer took the opportunity to do away with the awkward silence, suggesting Doctor Who. y/n almost immediately agreed, taking the remote from the coffee table and handing it to spencer to pull up the show. 

Once the show had started, the lights of the TV screen illuminated the room while spencer pulled a blanket out of a basket and spread it out over both y/n and himself. And unconsciously y/n scooted closer to spencer, hoping for more warmth from the soft throw. Or maybe more warmth from spencer, who knows..

After a couple episodes, y/n eyes were beginning droop as he had been up since 5 am, baking. Spencer- the ever profiler- noticed this. But despite the fact that y/ns blinks were gradually gaining length each time- he kept shifting a little bit, trying to get comfortable. And now if it had been a couple hours ago when y/n knocked on the door then spencer would’ve never done it, not in a million, billion years. But now they had been talking and watching their show for at least 2 1/2 hours now, spencer giving facts and corrections, y/n giving opinions, for the pair to then debate upon. And spencer felt confident enough to invite y/n to lean on him.

“ you know, if your tired.. then i dont mind if you wanna lay on me- you must be tired…”

“ya- how did you know..?”

Y/n’s voice was that of someone who was already half asleep, the constant sound of the tv lulling him to sleep before spencer could even answer. But spencer didnt mind- he loved admiring y/n, his face so incredibly peaceful. And he thought to himself, ‘the cookies can wait till morning’, before soon doxing off himself.

The End 

[yestrday]

HI IM like... fixating on ur hybrid au rn so I apologize for the influx of hybrid asks (if they get annoying, feel free to just delete idm!!) 😭 but I really adore the thought and consideration you put into world building !! I belive u enjoy world building from some previous asks of the academy au, so I think it's really nice to see u so consistent with world building across multiple au's !! although there's only one part of the hybrid au rn, I'm excited to learn more about the estate that mc and their hybrids live at !! like wooow their backyard and gardens must be massive considering they turned a portion of it into something that resembled kazuha's homeland, and there must be a big lake nearby since the other hybrids sometimes gets rocks to show to mc and aether !! (I wonder if that's a hint for maybe some aquatic hybrids.. hmm?) and the fact mc seems so estranged from social civilization must imply that they live in a very remote location with lots of space and little interaction. (and perhaps that could also explain why the boys were wary of kuni when he first showed up.. bc who would come to a remote location and ask for shelter??)

I did have one question though, since there is a loooot of genshin boys to be added, I'm curious about how the living situation works? room-wise, I mean. is our mc's villa THAT big that each hybrid can have a room to claim as theirs and sleep comfortably (or maybe they have to share with one another hejehdje BUT its also possible they just take turns sleeping with mc lol) or did mc perhaps have to build extensions to their main villa or even separate, mini houses entirely, to accommodate for the many hybrids (also, I wonder if any of their rooms have special features that cater specifically to their hybrid forms?)

ooh and another thing!! while I'm sure most of the boys' obsession with mc and their yandere tendencies started to become more prominent after living with mc, I also find it interesting how multiple of them stalked watched mc for a little while before making themselves known and asking to take part in actually living with them !!

and on a more minor note, as im sure it doesn't contribute much to the actual story, I am partially curious as to what mc's family do and why they're such a target for competition and sabotage :o

(sorry if this is a lot (╥﹏╥) I got a little enthusiastic about it, and seeing that you're kind of active I figured I'd ramble :P)

mc's mansion is situated upon a hill and its surrounding land. it's big enough to be almost considered a villa, and it's legally under their father's name. it was built when they were younger, think 12 or 13, after the father realizes what an easy target mc could be if he let them live in the city. it used to be just one building with a small lake at the back, but as more hybrids came, the more renovations happened. mc had the head butler submit these requests to their father, and since money isn't an issue, these came easily.

the hybrids don't actually have an officiated claimed room to them. most of them don't have their own things, so there's no real need to store things. only the rather picky ones have claimed a bedroom to themselves, much preferring a bed to their natural habitat.

ayato, for example, has picked out a room to himself and has lived there ever since neuvillette moved into the lake. he actually much prefers it that way, although it's a bit of a shame since he was the first inhabitant of the lake.

other hybrids that sleep in rooms are zhongli and xiao, who sleep in his office. aether, who sleeps with you. scara and haitham, who are often found in the library. albedo and occassionally tighnari, who decided it would be much more efficient if they just slept in the lab.

kazuha is usually found sleeping in a tree found in the part of the garden that you renovated for him. the first tree that you met him in, actually. the other hybrids sleep like this. they pick out a part of the mansion where they feel most comfortable in and sleep there. the avian hybrids (minus scara) have made themselves comfortable in high places, the lake is obviously home to the aquatic hybrids, and the garden is home to hybrids like foxes, dogs, etc.

there's only one room that's been renovated specifically for your hybrids, and it's a cold room underground that replicates the arctic. it's for your ice-affiliated hybrids! after the head maid had found them snoozing in the kitchen near— even in!— the fridge, she chased them out. out of pity, you decided to submit a renovation request to make them an icy room. it's a lot of electricity, but it also doubles as an ice storage room that you guys sell to the village below as well as a storage room for the scientists' experiments.

lastly, mc's family is the owner of many corporations under one company. think of the chaebols in korea. they're that powerful. mc's father is the ceo, so you can imagine how knee deep he is in corruption and complicated entanglements.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

"Angel. You feel like… like it's my birthday."

STOP WHAT IF the reader just starts to like, bake her own cake for him everytime on his birthday and the cake would be covered in edible flowers , his favorite flowers, maybe celebrate his little birthday somewhere secluded and they share little kisses after like omgondidbg (and omgonssk little flowers on his hood)

And why do i feel like his favorite color was red, black, anything that reminds him of violence and any color that is a resemblance of his childhood ,because fighting is the only thing that could distract him from his own mental problems and violent fantasies, and after he met her, his favorite colors changed into ones that remind her (and himself) the most, white symbolizes her innocence and the vast difference of how they both perceive the world, and green symbolizes moving on from some things? He may not move on from his violent tendencies, but maybe he doesn't always need to hold on those painful memories alone, maybe he doesn't need to come back to his room alone with his own sick and twisted world, maybe he can share some of it with her.

maybe thats why kö had a slight dislike of her wearing a black dress :p

Gahh what a message! You know I love you, right??

This birthday idea is so so sweet 😭💞 I know these two cuckoos would have the sweetest moments together. Can totally see them having a birthday picnic under the spring/summer trees (for some reason I'm convinced König's birthday is in May–June. Probably June, yandere König is a Leo sun & Scorpio rising I just know it lmao)

But look, now that you brought up colors I just have to start rambling again... (I'm sorry I'm a rambler)

I was supposed to share this in an author's note but never did so I'll share it now: the dresses symbolize the reader's mindset and reflect her stages of initiation. So:

Yellow = joy, optimism, curiosity, sunshine

Multi/flowers = femininity, fertility, sexual awakening, birds and bees, seduction

White = innocence, purity, hope, coldness, emptiness

Black = otherworld, power, darkness, grief, rebellion

Red = blood: the color of life, death, aggression and (re)birth. ("Birth is through blood")

And yes, König craves the innocence, purity, the angelic aura of the reader. She's like a drug to him when she's outside, dressed in those summery sweet colors, catching some air and watching the sun & the clouds (all the while he walks "underground", in darkness and in filth, watches the world through a black hood).

She reminds him of memories he doesn't even have (if that makes sense). She also reminds him of a certain memory he does have & which is filled with peace and light: the day he enlisted and celebrated by having a few beers. Apple trees were in full bloom and he was so at peace because he was in control now: he was in charge. He could finally leave his childhood home mainly filled with memories of abuse (I'm guessing not only his abuse but his mother's as well).

The evening was filled with the soft light of an early sunset and he thought those cute white blossoms were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It was a brief experience of what paradise might look and feel like before the army and fighting and war became his second home. But as you said about the colors red & black: he likes them, they're what he's good at, but it's not very cheerful or soothing!

When he first saw the reader she instantly reminded him of those cute apple blossoms and the paradise he never really got to taste. And even if his angel "fell" in the end, König adores both sides of her (the "blood-red woman" and the "apple blossom girl"). After all, there's two sides to him as well: the lonely boy who wants to protect the innocent... and the vengeful, grown man who wants to drown the world in blood and bury himself inside a woman to get at least some comfort.

And listen, I'm so glad you noticed the "dislike for the black dress" moment... Because it's there for a reason! König absolutely does not want her descending to the blackness he knows so well. His Engel might look good in red, but she doesn't belong in the ultimate darkness. It's kind of bittersweet how König wants to save her from that by taking the blame for her crime in the end (because he already knows he can bear the dark).

I don't know if this sounds gibberish but I just love to add symbols and metaphors in my stories... and I'm so happy you noticed there's a thing with colors going on 💋

& König needs that birthday cake, he needs those flowers and he needs to see her angel in a white dress and they both need to stop fucking around and go touch the grass 🤍💗

"maybe he doesn't need to always hold on those painful memories alone, maybe he doesn't need to come back to his room alone with his own sick and twisted world, maybe he can share some of it with her" -> look, I'm crying... 😭😭😭

[atla-confessions]

More a/b/o ATLA stuff because that ramble I made like a few days ago or something wasn’t enough to stop me from thinking about this stupid thing 😭 Sorry if this makes no sense I’m incredibly tired

Firstly, in that ramble I said healthy pups in ATLA present after their twelfth birthday. HOWEVER, I didn’t mention that in some cases, a pup can present earlier than their twelfth birthday due to harsh stress which causes a hormonal imbalance; the spirits assign your second gender earlier than expected so that it can balance your system out again. The earliest a pup can present is ten and a half.

With this said, I believe that Sokka and Katara all presented earlier than expected. In my AU, Hakoda left when Katara was ten and a half and Sokka was eleven years old and. A few months later (around 2 or 3 months) Sokka presented early due to having the weight of his entire tribe on his shoulders. Katara also presented early from a similar reason at eleven years and seven months old.

I know that with this logic, Toph and Aang probably would have presented earlier as well, but Toph was already twelve when they first met her and I don’t know much about her home life, other than the fact it was restrictive. Aang encased himself in ice when he was twelve and from the flashbacks we see about his past, he wasn’t very stressed (not to say he wasn’t stressed at all, of course).

I’m not sure about Azula or Zuko. Azula prides herself on being perfect and honestly? I think she would present the day she turned twelve, right on the perfect dot. Zuko had to deal with the trouble of his father’s… everything, and his mother’s disappearance. I don’t know for certain whether I believe he presented early or not but if he did present early, it was most likely when he was eleven and a half. Again, not sure.

Unfortunately there’s little to no information about Suki’s past (that I know of) so I can’t be for sure about anything nor can I truly talk about her without doubting myself 🙁.

OOH another thing. (If it’s not obvious I just type what comes to my head.) There was definitely a lot of conflict between Sokka and Katara when she presented as an Alpha; it wasn’t easy for either of them and they got into a lot of fights the first few months of her presentation, as newly-presented Alphas are a lot more emotional and angrier until they mellow out. Add a moody, angry Katara with a moody, sensitive Sokka (who is still somewhat new to being an Omega and is also stewing in self-hatred 24/7) and you get Chaos. And angst, lots of angst.

Right. In this AU, Sokka struggles with embracing his Omega side, hating himself for being a ‘weak babymaker’ or something else horribly rude. Because he hates himself for being an Omega, he lashes out at others and exclaims his dislike towards Omegas publicly (much to Katara’s and everyone else’s nerves). He’s not the only one who struggles with his second gender, however. Katara has problems with her own Alpha-like tendencies, much like Zuko.

(I don’t know if it’s obvious but I mostly think about Sokka and Katara with this AU; Sokka’s my favorite character and I love sibling bonding and angst!! *pats Katara and Sokka* these bad boys can fit so much pain in them!)

Anyways. Yeah, I mostly feel like there would be a lot of fights between the water siblings. These fights would be where most of Katara’s issues with being an Alpha and some of Sokka’s issues with being an Omega would come from; they’d both do things they regret. Katara would probably be aggressive without thinking and Sokka would not be able to argue back due to his mind going into ‘Panic! Stay safe from angry and scary ass Alpha!’ mode.

Anyways more than JUST Katara and Sokka. The GAANG!!

The Gaang are all definitely Pack. Like absolutely family-core (save for Kataang and Sukka, or Zukka if that tickles your pickle or whatever the phrase is).

I feel like Katara was very protective over everyone, especially in the first season when it was just her, Sokka, and Aang. She doesn’t see Sokka as weaker or anything, but her mind just can’t calm down unless she knows her brother is safe. Sokka is just as protective though, but shows it in a different way. The only other time Katara was protective to the point it was downright crazy was when Zuko joined. Another Alpha around, a potential threat? Katara would go crazy, scenting everyone to make sure Zuko understood that if he hurt any of them, she’d kill him.

I think Zuko would make sure not to upset Katara in any way, staying away from the others and making himself appear smaller and kinder so that she wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

I think Sokka would be especially protective over Toph and Aang, since they’re both pups (well, until months after the end of the war).

Ok that’s all I’m about to fall asleep. I’ll probs write more lol 😭 Still obsessed with this stupid a/b/o au thing UGH!

X

[fallinginaforrest]

Okay, I'm responding to your answer to my comment on the shayne & buffy post (confusing, I know, I'm sorry 😭) but I'm doing it here because I have too many thoughts lol. There's a couple of cast members I could see as several characters so I wanna know your thoughts! I first thought of Damien as Giles, because they're both into studying spooky stuff and I could see damien as a mentor figure. I could see Arasha and Angela as faith. I feel like they could handle that moral complexity really well. But I can also see Arasha as Anya?? I feel like Amanda could play Cordelia really well 💀 maybe it's just 'cause of her character in the zombies dread series, but I could see her in that kind of a role. I could see ian as Xander, idk why, I could just see him saying some of his lines. (And if we're not sticking with gendered casting) I could see trevor as willow?? They're both sweeties and to me that's enough 🫶. One last one I have is Spencer as Oz because to me they have similar energies. Very 🧍‍♂️ chill guy energy.

I could see the cast as a bunch of different characters tho so I'd love to know what you think!! Sorry this was long btw!! 😭

no don't apologise for the length im LOVING THIS. I'm going to ramble for even longer under the cut about why you're so right.

I absolutely agree with so much of this. Angela as faith actually has rewired my brain chemistry a bit so maybe i need to go and draw that huh! I think she'd be able to handle the depth and moral complexity of faith's arc alarmingly well. I mean. She played Lex Foster and I do think that Lex is a very Faith-Coded character so we have evidence that she'd do astoundingly well in that regard.

Arasha as Anya is perfect. No Notes. Not only because I think Arasha's deadpan delivery and committal to the bit give her this absolutely excellent weird girl energy that would lend itself to playing Anya so fucking well- but also because I want to see my fave be a vengeance demon and kill men. And sometimes that's okay!

Now, while i absolutely agree that Amanda would kill as Cordelia (I think she'd give cordy the underlying heart and earnestness that is necessary for her to not just be the "mean girl" initially and to make the audience like her, perhaps Olivia could play Cordelia?) I also could see Amanda playing Tara really well. Tara has this wisdom and ethereality to her that Amanda also definitely embodies. Amanda's also super spiritual and she draws tarot every day i think?? And I think because their spirituality and their understanding of the world beyond what most people experience is something that is so central to them both, Amanda would play Tara in my opinion.

I'm going to Skate past Ian as Xander because i just fundamentally agree with what you're saying and I think Ian would make Xander 100000% more likeable. Same with Spencer as Oz. So chill. Spencer as oz is actually just. Like. They're the same person.

Trevor as Willow is such an adorable thought. It's also so interesting because he wears a lot of clothes that have like plant life or motifs on them. I think it would make sense to connect him to witchcraft in some capacity. Also he would embody willow's excitement (and to an extent, naivete) really well. I also think Angela could play willow for those same reasons, i think how earnest she is and just how fiercely she loves her friends, i think she could also do willow justice.

Now, Damien as giles is an interesting one! Because i would have put him down as angel perhaps (if only to make the joke that He and shayne are ex-lovers LMAO) but he does also have that sort of deep empathy that Angel carries, as well as the social awkwardness and the Emo tendencies.

May i offer though, as a replacement giles, Tommy? I think tommy would EAT as Giles because of how fucking dry and tired he is. Both of these men are perpetually done with everything.

Anyway teehee maybe i'll draw some of these who knows!!

[unexpectedbrickattack]

hi again 👋👋👋 anyway i would LOVE to hear any thoughts you might have about fake pep and his interactions with other characters if you're amenable to that! i love him and there is So Much going on there and you always have stellar hcs so id love to hear them!!

Ive been shying away from drawing/writing anything with fake peppino bc frankly ur right; there IS so much going on with him 😭 so much so that it almost feels impossible to settle on something concrete 😭 This is also bc I link Fake Peppi and Pizzahead together, which means I also have to work on characterizing that punk 😭😭😭 But I will still try to get my thoughts out

(OKAY THIS IS REM FROM THE FUTURE OR PAST OR SOMETHING AND IM HERE TO SAY THAT I RAMBLED SO FUCKING LONG THAT I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE ACTUAL ASK OF THIS FUCKING ASK!!! I JUST TALKED ABOUT FAKE PEPPI AND DIDNT WRITE A SINGLE INTERACTION. SO UM. THIS ASK IS NOW ABOUT FAKE PEPPI AND ONLY FAKE PEPPI IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭😭 ILL GO MORE IN DEPTH W DYNAMICS N SUCH SOME DAY BUT NOT TODAY)

Fake Peppino is Not the first clone; hes one of the Last ones Pizzahead worked on. The ones you see in the war level are the closest, appearance wise, to Peppino, but they arent the brightest and will often behave like [insert test subject] but with Peppinos face on it. The emphasis on appearance first resulted in some physically identical, but otherwise, dull witted clones.

Fake Peppi was the first attempt at replicating Peppinos actual personality over appearance and it works moderately well, its just that. Hes a little funky lookin. Which is okay! Its the first attempt !! He’ll get more time to try again! They give Fake Peppi a little run down shop to manage (that he almost immediately converts into a pizzeria) while they work on perfecting the clones. But then Peppino actually storms the tower after being threatened w the Pizzeria Begone Beam, and hes tearing through portals so quickly that Pizzahead literally has No Time to try and work on these new clones. Fake Peppi is the First of this new experimental line of clones, and hes one of the Last. (Said bc i do intend on making my own little peppi clone someday heehee)

Fake Peppi passes as a pretty Normal creature. Hes a bit Tall but not absurdly above average. I drew him pretty goopy and lanky on my first (and only ) attempt at drawing him, but the more i think about it, the more I want him to just be a taller, slightly offputting Peppino. I like the idea someone had of Fake Peppi mimicking the stylized, cartoonish logo design of the pizzeria, so hes got a bit of a doofy lookin face. Its very round, with soft looking eyes and permanent blush on his cheeks. When hes trying to look Less Scary (bc he is a bit aware now that hes a little Off), you can see his mouth on his face like a Normal person. When hes relaxed and/or unfocused, it kind of just. Disappears. It makes his face look kind of like a little butt or a peach heehee

Fake Peppi acts pretty similarly to Real Peppino. Hes quick to anger, and quick to frighten. Hes a bit of a goof and he likes to entertain (which completely threw pizzahead off; hes like thats. Not right? Is it??). He has more or less the same mental capacity as Peppino, shares similar skills and hobbies, and enjoys the same kinds of food that Peppino does (with mild variation). Hes very relaxed and easygoing with a tendency to act a fool and be a little playful, which leads Pizzahead to believe that despite what hes personally seen (from stalking this poor man), Peppino is Also inherently a bit of a fool and a little playful and also capable of being relaxed and easygoing.

Fake Peppi is prone to the same kind of anxiety and panic attacks that Peppino has, only he does not have decades of experience with them to know how to manage it. So the time he spends with Pizzahead is Not the smoothest. The combination of Just Being Created and having Crippling Panic Attacks leaves him with an almost Blank Slate, memory wise, by the time hes left with the pizzeria. When Pizzahead visits Fake Peppi again to give him the lift key; hes basically a stranger to him :0

(Peppino tries to help with some grounding techniques for panic attacks, but since they Both default to self soothing stims, hes not that much help 😭)

Conversations are as smooth as they can be with his garbled speech; he can understand what hes being told, and he will write down what he Wants to say with pen and paper. Eventually, he ‘upgrades’ to a phone with proper text to speech, so he uses that quite often. I know the backwards speech is canon (or at the very least extremely popular) but its very hard for me to read and parse in my head, so i am deciding against that 😭

Hes hard to understand bc despite having a similar vocal pitch to Peppino (a bit high), it rubberbands in a way that makes it sound incredibly croakey and scratchy. The more excitable he is, the more incoherent he becomes. With (immense) effort, he can speak clearly, but its almost as difficult as someone trying to suppress their stutter; hes much more comfortable using his phone to talk. I can see him learning sign language at some point; Peppino does Not know sign language but he IS capable of learning, which means Fake Peppi is Also capable of learning.

Overall Fake Peppi is Peppino with enough variance to give him his own personality. Some of the things he does shines a bit of a light on Peppinos personality; its like, if Peppino DIDNT have to struggle with a failing business and crippling debt and being drafted into a fucking war, what kind of Peppino would you get? And as a surprise to Pizzahead, its a relatively sweet and goofy guy!! And if he took the time to interact with the Real Peppino instead of an idealized version of him (like pepperman and vigilante have started doing) then he would see that. Oh well.