#telling him it's okay to have feelings and that it makes him human and it's okay to be sad and he can feel like sh*t and that's fine

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Xavi didn’t enjoy being an incubus, especially when he was the last one of his kind.

Feeding was a pain, and now he had no one to guide him or gather food for him.

Before becoming an adult, young incubi would eat human food, but now that Xavi had reached maturity, the only thing that would sustain him was having sex with a human.

“How embarrassing…” he murmured, peering into your window. “She’s the only one asleep right now…”

During the day, Xavi disguised himself as a human. He had seen you a few times at the local college he attended with you.

You enticed him with your sweet scent and soft figure. He had never felt so hungry before, was this what being an adult incubus felt like?

Xavi watched you for a few weeks, feeding routinely on your naughty dreams. It was just enough to keep him from starving, but he craved being even closer to you.

His hand moved down your soft tummy. Usually, he tried his best to stay away from humans. After all, he didn’t want to grow attached

However, you were so soft and kind, always helping out your fellow classmates and volunteering to bring homework to people who were sick.

You even smiled at him when he walked to his seat every day. No one ever paid him much attention. Xavi tried his best to be as uninteresting as possible, to blend into the background.

Being an incubus meant his blood was the most valuable aphrodisiac in the world, and having a pair of the incubus horns meant you’d be able to have any woman or man you wanted.

That’s why his entire race had been slaughtered, for their bodies. It hurt to think about, and to keep himself safe, Xavi took up very little space.

Something about you enticed him, however. Maybe it was the smell of your perfume, or the way your hips swayed as you walked.

You were alluring, and that’s why his hand was moving up your shirt while you-

“Xavi?”

He jumped back, his wings extending as he got ready to retreat. You sat up, rubbing your sleepy eyes and yawning. “Xavi… what are you doing in my… room?”

His cheeks turned red as he tried to explain. “W-well you see, I was just-“

“And… you have horns… a tail… are those wings?”

This was it, he’d completely exposed himself to a human. You were going to call the local church and he’d be cut apart!

“Are you okay..?”

Your words stilled his racing heart. “… no, if I’m being honest I’m not okay at all.”

You sat up, stretching a little before patting your bed. Xavi could still see that your eyes were clouded with sleep. “Mmph, tell me all about it.”

For some reason, you felt like a safe person. Xavi spent his entire life keeping his guard up, which meant making friends was forbidden.

So why did he want to tell you all of his secrets, every little thing that was currently bothering him?

Xavi looked down at your soft form, his eyes on the way your nightgown barely covered your breasts. Your bare thighs were a problem too, he could already feel his body beginning to shake with desire.

“(Name)… I need your help.”

You looked up, your eyes still foggy from sleep. “Help..? If it’s about the homework, I’m behind-“

“I’m in your room in the middle of the night, this isn’t about homework.”

He placed a timid hand on your thigh, his entire body tensing when he felt your warmth soaking into his skin.

“Oh… then… what do you need?” you asked, shyly crossing your bare legs. Xavi noticed this, and pulled his hand away.

“Sexual intercourse.”

He said it with a straight face, but Xavi’s heart was pounding and his cheeks were beginning to heat up. You stared at him in shock, your mouth agape as you processed that the quiet guy you waved to every morning was asking to have sex with you.

“Ehem.” he cleared his throat, trying to disguise the fact his face was red and voice was shaky. “As you can tell, I am not human. I am a demon, specifically an incubus. We feed off of life energy, specifically the energy humans exert when having sex.”

“S-so you’ve done this before?” you asked, causing him to sputter.

“N-n-not exactly, no, but…”

Xavi sighed, stretching out his wings and fluttering them. “I’ve done my research. I know the human body better than most.”

In a blink of an eye he was hovering over you, his tail flicking before placing itself between your legs.

“W-what are you-“

He lowered his head, whispering into your ear. “I’ve tasted your dreams, and they’re full of pent up sexual frustration.”

His tail rubbed against your clothed cunt, the end of it pressing against your twitching clit. “You want this just as much as I need it.”

Xavi kissed down your neck, his fangs brushing against your pulse point. “I can relieve all of your tension, and all I need in return is some of your life energy.”

The incubus bit down, his aphrodisiac venom coursing through your veins. “There we go, this will loosen your body up,” he murmured, pulling your now soaked panties off.

Your body felt so hot, your mind hazy as he prepped you with his fingers. Xavi looked at your pussy with a mixture of curiosity and lust, taking a tentative sniff before his pupils dilated.

He buried his face between your thighs, latching onto your clit for a bit while his fingers continued to loosen you up.

The man had never fathomed that his body would react instinctively to a female's pheromones, but he was already doing everything as if he had done it a thousand times before.

“There you go, that’s it…”

Your pussy drooled when he pulled back, and he stared up at you with pussy-drunk eyes. If he could, he would have stayed between your legs the entire night.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?”

His cock rested on your thigh, erect and throbbing. Xavi barely ever touched himself, and now he was just inches away from being buried inside of a woman.

For years, you had wanted to lose your virginity. Thankfully, you weren’t desperate enough to go with any guy, but lately it has been hard to satisfy your needs. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t react much to Xavi’s explanation, and why you were so lax about everything.

He was right, you wanted this so bad it almost hurt.

“P-please…”

Xavi was not one to make a lady wait.

He held onto your thighs, his tail flicking your clit skillfully as his cock sunk into you.

You had played with toys before, trying to prepare for this very moment, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer size and girth. Xavi wasn’t huge, but he could change his shape and length by will.

“Is that a good size for you?” he murmured, testing your endurance with a few light thrusts. “Maybe a bit bigger, hmm?”

His mouth latched onto one of your nipples while his tail continued to play with your clit. Xavi was overstimulating you, bringing you to an orgasm within a few minutes.

Through the next few hours, his cock expanded and shrank, getting longer or shorter to meet your needs at that moment. Despite being a virgin, he was amazing at pleasing a woman.

Being an incubus meant it came natural to him. Sex was how he fed…

Xavi pulled out after a while, his cheeks flushed as he watched his cum pool out of you. Being the smart man he was, he knew that having too many sexual partners may blow his cover.

‘It was nothing to do with liking her,’ he thought, staring at your flustered face. ‘Not… at all.’

He carefully cleaned you up before tucking you back into bed.

“We can do this twice a week… how about Saturday and Wednesday?” he asked, carefully caressing your cheek.

So you formed a contract with a demon… one that would keep you satisfied and happy.

Though… would he want to stop at just having sex with you? Incubi could be rather possessive…

Part 2?

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight

[jungkoode]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 21

˗ˏˋ birthday shots ˎˊ˗

"Jungkook’s friends, Jungkook’s birthday party… It’s all honestly not what you expected. But then again, Jungkook keeps twisting your expectations of him, once and once again."

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 8,4k

content: jungkook having friends, feeling out of place, pretty girls, judgemental people, tae/hobi/jk protecting the peace, shared secrets, nicknames gaining an intimate layer, stubbornness with spicy food, drinking, doing shots and jungkook being both attentive and protective.

✧ author's note ✧

Aaaand we’re finally here. The party. The build-up. The chaos potential. The birthday. After 20 chapters of yearning, character dissection, awkward eye contact, and conversations that say everything and nothing at the same time… we are officially entering the next arc: actual real-world social interaction. Which, if you’ve been paying attention, is every character’s personal hell. Including mine.

First of all—yes, this is Jungkook’s party chapter. Yes, it’s a pivotal one. Yes, I was pacing around my flat in a hoodie muttering “okay but what would he wear” like a deranged method actor trying to get into character. And yes, there are about 15 new people here. But please don’t panic. You don’t need to memorize them all. This isn’t a fantasy war council. You’re not about to be quizzed on the name of Jungkook’s friend’s cousin’s dog. They’re not here to steal the plot—they’re here to color it.

Jungkook’s different social groups, clashing and blending like some unhinged Venn diagram of his life. They each say something about him and the many versions of himself he keeps—because, as always, this isn’t about the party. It’s about him and her, and us, and the very inconvenient reality of human attachment.

Now. Tessa (and yes, Stuti, when you read this… the name comes 100% from you hahaha).

Yup. That girl from the library. She’s here. She’s breathing. She’s talking. And she’s not a villain.

I know, I know, fanfiction is riddled with the evil-rival-love-interest trope. The girl who eyes you up and down with thinly veiled contempt. The passive aggressive bitch who “just happens” to sit on his lap or call him baby in front of you. The girl whose entire personality is “threat to the main couple.” And listen—I could never.

Tessa isn’t like that. Because most people aren’t like that. Attraction doesn’t automatically equal competition, and not every woman who talks to a man you like is an enemy. That’s such a tired, flat, boring cliche. I’m not writing this story to project misogynistic tropes onto women so we can feel smug about someone else being “the wrong one.” I don’t want you to root against her. I don’t want you to root against anyone, really. Maybe Mia, but that’s what she’s for. She’s your pressure valve. You need someone to hate. That’s what makes the rest bearable.

Tessa’s presence is not a betrayal. It’s just reality. Jungkook is allowed to be liked. He’s allowed to explore. And so is Nix. She’s not some pushover sainted martyr of “true love.” She’s a girl. She’s confused. She’s a little guarded. She’s still trying to understand herself.

There’s no jealousy because there is no claim. There’s no relationship, no commitment, no confessions, no secret “we’re basically already in love” subtext. There’s just this slow, painful, glacial slide into a kind of closeness that might one day become something else—but hasn’t. Not even close. This chapter is about a possible beginning of something resembling tentative friendship. We are barely out of enemies-to-mildly-tolerating-each-other zone. We are in the “do I text you or is that weird” era.

Don’t rush it. Don’t expect it. That’s not the story I’m telling.

Nix being unbothered isn’t character growth. It’s just honesty. It’s consistency. I’ve spent 20 chapters building a girl who’s emotionally guarded, private, and painfully aware of the dynamics she allows herself to engage in. She’s not “cool with it” to be cool—she’s just not invested like that yet. And that matters. We’re not jumping stages for drama. We’re walking, slowly, through the psychology of two people who don’t even know what they want. Let them be confused. Let them be messy. Let them take their time.

I’m writing slow burn with psychological realism at its core, and that means actions have context. If you came here expecting love confessions and possessive meltdowns and “he’s mine stay away” drama… wrong story, babes. I want you uncomfortable. I want you squinting at every interaction wondering if it means something. I want you to question how affection develops, really. Slowly. Subtly. Almost invisibly, until it’s all you can think about.

The story isn’t about dramatic betrayals or Big Plot Twists. It’s about tension. About two people orbiting each other in their own broken, stumbling ways. It’s about glances that last too long and words that don’t come out right and the way your heart knows something long before your brain does. It’s about patterns, and Jungkook’s are catching up to him.

You don’t need to like everyone. But you should understand them. And that’s what I’m asking of you here. Because these characters aren’t plot devices—they’re real to me. They’re studies. They’re messy. And god, I love them for it.

So yeah. Welcome to the party. The masks are on, the music’s loud, and no one knows how to behave when they’re being watched. Especially him.

Enjoy. Suffer. Stare at the page like you’re decoding a sacred text. That’s the vibe.

And as always…

You’re here to suffer. I’m here to deliver.

You’re welcome.

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

You never realized a person could contain so many versions of themselves until you saw Jungkook surrounded by his friends.

"SURPRISE!"

The word explodes through the small ramen shop, followed by cheers and laughter as Jungkook freezes beside you. 

His fingers quickly pocket his phone, eyes widening with a genuine shock that transforms his entire face. 

Gone is the perpetually amused, slightly condescending roommate you've come to know. In his place stands someone younger, almost innocent—lips parting in stunned delight, eyes crinkling at the corners.

It's fucking weird is what it is.

"Holy shit," he breathes, a laugh bursting from him as Taehyung launches himself across the restaurant, wrapping Jungkook in a hug that nearly knocks him over. "What the fuck?"

Hobi follows immediately, bouncing on his feet like an overgrown puppy before throwing his arms around both of them, turning the duo into a chaotic tangle of limbs and laughter. 

Even Yoongi gets up, offering a slow clap before joining with a more restrained but no less genuine embrace—the kind with back pats that guys do when they want to prove they have exactly two emotions: hungry and sports.

You hang back, suddenly aware of how many strangers are packed into this place. 

The restaurant is full of people—at least a dozen beyond the ones you recognize—all focused on Jungkook with varying degrees of excitement. Some are already raising drinks in toast, others taking photos, a couple shouting things you can't quite make out over the general chaos.

"P-Kill! Happy birthday, man!"

"Proofs! You made it!"

"Proofy, get over here!"

What the actual fuck are these names? 

You frown, trying to connect these bizarre nicknames to the Jungkook you know—the one who leaves his dirty dishes in the sink and plays his music too loud and once tried to convince you that Kraft mac and cheese was "technically gourmet."

None of this computes.

Jungkook catches your confusion as he disentangles himself from his friends, eyes flicking toward you with that familiar half-smile that somehow feels like a private joke.

"Hey," he says, suddenly at your side again. His hand brushes your elbow briefly—not grabbing, just a light touch that seems oddly grounding in this chaos. "These are my friends. Guys, this is my roommate."

He says your name easily, no ‘Phoenix’ or ‘Nix’ in sight, and it's weirdly jarring—like hearing a song you know played in the wrong key. 

Not technically wrong, just... off.

The next few minutes are a blur of names and faces, most immediately forgotten as you try to keep track of who's who in this bizarre alternative universe where Jungkook is apparently the center of a large social circle. There's a group of guys—gamers, apparently—who keep calling him those weird nicknames.

"These three idiots," Jungkook explains, gesturing toward a trio of guys who look like they haven't seen sunlight in months, "are my Steam friends. My username is ProofedToKill, so that's where all the dumb nicknames come from."

Of course, that tracks. He's always yelling at the TV when he plays Call of Duty in the living room. You've had multiple arguments about it, usually ending with him putting on headphones and you turning up your music out of spite.

"Don't start," he warns, but there's no real edge to it. "I've already heard all your anti-shooters propaganda."

"It's not propaganda if it's true."

He rolls his eyes but doesn't take the bait, already being pulled toward another group by Taehyung. 

"Come on, there are more people you should meet."

You follow, because what else are you going to do? Stand alone by the door like some kind of abandoned pet? 

Besides, you're curious now. Curious about these other fragments of Jungkook's life that you've never been privy to before.

The space is packed, noisy in that way that forces everyone to talk slightly too loud. Sensory overload city. People keep touching Jungkook—hugs, shoulder claps, high fives—and he's letting them, which might be the weirdest part of all this. 

Since when does he like being touched by people who aren't naked?

"Jungkook!" a female voice exclaims, cutting through the noise. A tall girl with auburn hair moves toward him with the confident grace of someone who's never tripped over her own feet in public. "Happy birthday!"

She wraps him in a hug that makes you realize just how tall she is—like, almost his height tall—and beside her, another girl—smaller, with short black hair and glasses—offers a more reserved greeting.

"Hey Tessa, hey Diana," Jungkook says, looking genuinely pleased to see them. "Didn't think you'd be here!"

Tessa. 

The library girl. The one he was doing that group project thing with.  The one who kept laughing too loud whenever Jungkook said something that probably wasn't even that funny.

"Taehyung invited us," she explains, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hope that's okay."

"Of course it's okay," Jungkook says, and you hate how sincere he sounds. 

Where's the sarcastic asshole you live with? Who is this pod person?

"We brought you something," Diana says, holding out a small bag. "Just a little thing."

Jungkook accepts it with a thanks that sounds almost shy, and what the fuck? Since when is he shy about anything?

"Oh, this is my roommate," he adds, suddenly remembering your existence. 

He says your name again, and you force a smile because what else can you do in this bizarre social ritual?

"Nice to meet you," Tessa says with a warmth that feels genuine, which is almost worse than if she'd been fake. At least fake would make sense. "Jungkook's mentioned you before. You're in English Lit, right?"

He's talked about you? To her? 

What the fuck has he said?

"Yeah," you manage, because apparently your vocabulary has been reduced to monosyllables in the face of all this unexpected social interaction. "English major."

"That's amazing," she says, and she actually seems to mean it. "I'm in Film too, but I've always loved literature. What's your focus?"

Before you can answer—thank god, because you haven't prepared a thesis statement on your academic interests for a birthday party—Hobi appears with a tray of shots, announcing that it's time for the birthday boy to start celebrating properly.

So, of course, the whole crowd moves towards him, shots being thrown back easily. You find yourself suddenly on the outside of it, still standing with Tessa and Diana but no longer the focus of their attention.

It's a relief, honestly. 

You've never been good at this kind of thing—large groups, small talk, unfamiliar social dynamics. 

It's like being dropped into a play where everyone else knows the script and you're just… improvising. Kinda hoping you don't accidentally say the wrong line and reveal yourself as the impostor.

Your eyes wander around the restaurant, taking in the details you missed—it’s actually a cozy place, warm wood and soft lighting, with private booths along one wall and a long table down the center where most of Jungkook's friends have gathered. 

You can smell the sizzling of pans working through different ingredients—garlic, onion, ginger… But your eyes end up on Jungkook anyway.

He swallows down a shot, grimacing at the burn. 

Someone passes him another. 

Someone else claps him on the back. 

He's at the center of all this attention and he's... thriving in it. Laughing, talking.

It’s strange, seeing him like this. So carefree, so loud (although he’s always loud but this is a different kind of loud?)—so in his… element. 

You can’t help but feel out of place.

Because, truly. Do you even fit in here? Are you an element? Part of his element? Or whatever this is? 

This morning you were agonizing over whether you could be friends with the guy you've been fucking. 

Now you're standing in a room full of people who already are his friends, who've known him much longer than you have, who see a completely different side of him than the one you get.

It's... a lot.

You pull out your phone, needing something to do with your hands, but the screen stays dark. Okay. Dead. Fantastic.

"You okay?"

The voice at your elbow makes you jump. 

It's Jungkook, somehow back at your side despite the crowd still demanding his attention.

"Fine," you say automatically. "Just... observing."

His eyes scan your face, more perceptive than you'd like. "You look like you'd rather be literally anywhere else."

"Not true. I can think of at least three places that would be worse." You tick them off on your fingers. "The DMV. An insurance seminar. Dinner with my parents."

That gets a laugh out of him—a real one, one you seem to be getting out of him more and more often. 

“Fair enough. Come on, let me get you a drink. It'll help with..." 

He pauses, purses his lips as he tilts his head at you.

"With what, exactly?"

"The whole 'I'd rather eat glass than make small talk with strangers' vibe you're giving off."

"I'm not—" you start to protest, but he's already pulling you toward the bar, his hand warm against your lower back.

"It's fine, Phee," he says, the familiar nickname slipping out naturally now that you're momentarily separated from the crowd. "Not everyone's into the whole big social scene. You don't have to pretend."

You want to argue on principle—deny that he knows you that well, that he can read your discomfort so easily—but it would be pointless. 

He's right. 

You do hate this. 

And the fact that he noticed, that he came back to check on you instead of just leaving you to flounder on your own...

It's annoying. Or it should be. 

Instead, it feels weirdly considerate.

"I don't need a babysitter," you mutter as he flags down the bartender. "Go enjoy your party. I'm perfectly capable of standing in a corner judging people on my own."

"Maybe I'm enjoying my party more over here." 

He orders something you don't catch, then turns back to you with that half-smile that's somehow more familiar than the broad grin he's been flashing at everyone else.

“Besides, if I leave you alone too long, you might decide to ditch, and then who would I blame when I need an excuse to escape Hobi's karaoke demands?"

"Yoongi seems like a good scapegoat."

"Nah, Yoongi secretly loves karaoke. Just pretends to hate it so people will beg him. It's weird."

The bartender slides two glasses toward Jungkook—whiskey is one, by the look of it. 

The other one is… 

Vodka cranberry.

He remembers?

You lick your lips. Nervous suddenly. Maybe. Or not really. Just uncomfortable, because here it is again. Jungkook being attentive, doing these stupid kind things that completely shatter the reputation you have built for him in your head. 

"You really don't have to babysit me," you say again, but you take the drink anyway. "I'm fine."

His eyes search yours, more serious than usual. "I know you're fine. Maybe I just want to hang out with you."

Something shifts in your chest—a small, uncomfortable flutter. 

“Why? You have a dozen other people here who actually like you."

"Ouch." He presses a hand to his heart, mock wounded. "And here I thought we were making progress on the whole friendship thing."

"The jury's still out on that one."

"Uh-huh." He takes a sip of his whiskey, eyes never leaving yours. "Well, consider this evidence for the 'pro' column: I noticed you were uncomfortable and came to rescue you instead of letting you suffer in silence."

"Maybe I prefer suffering in silence."

"No one prefers suffering in silence, Nix. Some people just don't think they deserve better."

The way he says it makes something twirl uncomfortable inside your chest.

You take a large drink instead of responding, welcoming the burn as it slides down your throat.

“Make sure to finish that quickly. Get ready for the party games.”

"There are going to be party games?"

"That’s only the beginning."

"So," you say, swaying your glass slightly, watching the burgundy liquid catch the light, "ProofedToKill, huh? Didn't know I was living with such a badass."

"No? I thought you knew how badass I am.”

“You’re bad, and an ass. That doesn’t make you a badass. Different word.”

He laughs, low and warm, and you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips without conscious input.

"You know what it actually means?" he asks, leaning back against the wall. 

You raise an eyebrow. "That you're secretly a hitman with terrible grammar?"

"Hilarious." He rolls his eyes, but there's no real irritation behind it. "It's a baking term, actually."

"A what now?"

"Baking. You know, that thing people do with flour and heat instead of burning the place down.”

“If you bring up the candle incident one more time—”

He makes a zipping motion over his mouth, and your lips twitch with the effort of chuckling. 

“Wait, are you seriously telling me your super tough gamer name is about... baking?"

He sighs, looking down at his glass. "When you're making bread—sourdough specifically—there's this stage called 'proofing.’ It's when the dough rises, develops flavor. If you overproof it, it collapses. If you underproof, it's dense. But if you get it just right..."

"You've... proofed to kill?" you finish, unable to keep the disbelief from your voice.

"Exactly." He grins, clearly pleased that you've made the connection. "Perfect proofing. Killer bread. It's a whole thing."

You stare at him, genuinely speechless for perhaps the first time since you've known him. 

This man—this infuriating, cocky roommate who struts around like he owns every room he enters—has a gamer tag based on fucking bread-making. 

And he's admitting it. 

Voluntarily. 

"So let me get this straight," you say slowly. "Your badass online persona, the one all your friends call you by, is actually a baking pun?"

"In my defense, it's a really good pun. And most people assume it's about, you know, being good at shooting things. Which I also am." He shrugs, cockiness slipping back into place.

“You’re so weird,” you mutter, but you know he doesn’t take it seriously.

"Been doing it since college. The whole sourdough thing at midnight." He confesses, glancing around briefly, like he's checking to make sure no one else is listening, then lowers his voice. "My mom taught me. She had this whole recipe she'd developed over years, this perfect sourdough method. Made the best bread you've ever tasted."

Again that softness, almost reverence when he speaks about his mom. 

It always catches you off guard. You've never heard him talk like this before. Never heard him talk about his family at all, really.

"After she..." he continues, then stops himself, shaking his head slightly. "Anyway. I keep trying to recreate it. Haven't quite nailed it yet."

Neither of you speak for a couple of beats. His gaze is still fixed on his drink, and then he takes a sip, like his mind is somewhere else completely.

“Is that why you stress-bake at 3 AM? Trying to get the proof right?"

His eyes meet yours, surprised.

Maybe a little grateful for the redirect. 

“You’ve noticed?”

“I mean, I just went to the bathroom one night and saw you fighting the dough, so…”

He chuckles, gaze back on his glass. “Yeah. It's... meditative, I guess. Helps me think."

"Weird way to think, but okay."

"Says the person who reads the same depressing Kafka story fourteen times and calls it 'processing.'"

"It's a good story."

"It's about a guy turning into a giant bug."

"And it speaks to the alienation inherent in modern existence. Your point?"

He laughs again, shaking his head. "God, you're such a fucking English major."

"And you're a secret bread nerd. We all have our crosses to bear."

His smile shifts into something different—softer around the edges, almost vulnerable. "Don't tell anyone, okay? About the username thing. I have a reputation to maintain."

"What, you mean your friends don't know your tough gamer handle is actually about your sourdough obsession?"

"Only Yoongi knows. And now you." He drums his fingers on the glass once, twice. "That's enough oversharing on my part for the day, I think. Sooner or later it's going to have to be your turn, you know, Pyx?"

Great. A new variation of your nickname. Does he ever stop coming up with them?

"My turn for what?"

"Sharing something real." His eyes hold yours, steady. "Friendship goes both ways, Nix."

You scoff, ignoring the way your heart rate picks up slightly. "I share things."

"Like what? Your coffee order doesn't count."

"I told you about the IUD."

"That's medical, not personal."

"It's literally inside my body. How much more personal can it get?"

He sighs, but he makes it dramatic this time. "You know what I mean. Something that matters to you. Something real."

You do know. That's the problem. He's asking for exactly the kind of vulnerability you've spent years carefully avoiding. The kind that gives people ammunition, that creates expectations, that leads to disappointment when you inevitably fail to meet them.

But he just told you about his mom. About bread and baking and usernames that mean more than they appear to. He offered something real—small, maybe, but genuine.

And isn't that what this whole friendship experiment is supposed to be about?

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what's going to come out, when a crash from across the restaurant saves you. Hobi has somehow managed to knock over an entire tray of drinks, and the resulting chaos immediately draws everyone's attention, including Jungkook's.

"Shit," he mutters, already half-moving. "I should go help before he makes it worse."

"Go," you nod, equal parts relieved and strangely disappointed. "Your public needs you."

He hesitates, eyes still on yours. "We're not done with this conversation."

"Pretty sure we are."

"Pretty sure we're just getting started." He stands fully, but doesn't leave immediately. "Come join, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him weave through the crowd toward the spill, already calling out something to Hobi that makes the other man laugh despite the mess. It's strange, seeing him like this—in his element, surrounded by people who know him in ways you don't.

ProofedToKill. A baking pun turned gamer tag. A piece of his mother he carries with him, encrypted in plain sight.

You take another sip of your vodka cranberry, wondering what else about Jungkook you've been missing all this time.

Eleven people crammed around a table is basically psychological warfare in restaurant form.

You're somehow stuck directly across from Jungkook, because apparently the universe has a shitty sense of humor. 

Next to him, Tessa has claimed her territory, her long legs perfectly positioned under the table while yours are already cramping from the weird angle. Of course.

At least you've got Yoongi on your left—a silent, grounding presence in the chaos. When you'd awkwardly hovered near his chair, he'd just grunted and shifted slightly to make room. 

In Yoongi-speak, that's practically a formal invitation with calligraphy and shit.

Diana sits on your other side, petite and prim, her small hands already arranging her napkin with quick movements. She keeps glancing at Tessa across the table with an expression you can't quite decipher—somewhere between admiration and mild disapproval.

The menu in Yoongi's hands looks worn and slightly sticky, but your stomach is basically staging a revolt after hours of nothing but ibuprofen and vodka. You lean over, scanning the options without asking permission because fuck it, you're hungry.

The spicy ramen section catches your eye immediately. 

Your stomach gives another impatient growl.

"I want those," you announce, pointing at the spiciest option on the menu.

Yoongi barely blinks. "Cool. I didn't ask."

You roll your eyes and lean back in your chair because, okay, whatever. Rude ass. Though honestly, there's something almost refreshing about his complete lack of social polish. 

At least you always know where you stand with him, which is approximately nowhere.

A movement across the table draws your attention. 

Jungkook's eyes have lifted from his own menu, catching yours with an intensity that feels weirdly intimate in the crowded space. His gaze flickers down again almost immediately, but not before you notice the corner of his mouth tilting upward.

What's he laughing about? Stupid. He's stupid.

"I kinda wanted the spicy ones too," he says, looking up again. "Maybe we can share?"

You squint at him suspiciously. "Huh? No. I want the bowl entirely for me."

Diana makes a soft sound beside you—half laugh, half disbelief. 

“I can't believe you can eat all that."

The words hang there for a moment while your brain processes the judgment packaged in her innocent-sounding comment. 

Did she just really—

"C'mon Diana," Tessa cuts in swiftly, laugh warm and genuine, "not everyone has a small stomach like you."

Diana scowls, her delicate features pinching together. "I just think that's a lot to eat."

"Bro, I could eat two bowls in one sitting," Jungkook says.

"Make that three," Taehyung adds from Jungkook's other side. "You're a fucking goblin, Kooks."

"Three? Amateur," one of the gamer guys—Steve? Sean?—chimes in from the end of the table. "Remember that time after the tournament when you ate four bowls of ramen and then threw up in my car?"

"That was food poisoning," Jungkook protests. "Totally different situation."

"Your face was poisoned."

"What does that even mean?"

"Your face... poisoned... my eyes," the guy finishes lamely, clearly losing his train of thought.

"Ten points from Slytherin for that weak-ass comeback," Hobi declares, raising his beer like a wizard's wand. "Jungkook requires better trash talk in his honor."

"Oh shit, we're using Hogwarts points now?" another one asks. "When did we switch systems?"

"Since I just decided, and I'm the dungeon master."

"That's D&D, you uncultured swine," Taehyung sighs, long-suffering. "Completely different franchise."

"Whatever, they're all just wizard nerds," Hobi says with a dismissive wave.

"That's wizard king to you, peasant," Jungkook corrects, puffing out his chest.

“Do you all... actually play these games?" Diana asks, voice faintly disdainful.

"Only when we're not busy with our super cool and important adult lives," Taehyung says, deadpan.

"I just don't get the appeal," she sniffs. "Sitting inside all day, staring at screens—"

"Yo," Hobi cuts in smoothly, somehow managing to sound both friendly and firm at the same time, "different strokes for different folks. Some people climb mountains, some people slay digital dragons. Both valid." 

Diana shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. "I guess."

"Besides," you find yourself saying, "it's literally his birthday. Maybe, I don't know, let him enjoy things without the judgment?"

The words come out sharper than intended, surprising even you. 

Since when do you jump to Jungkook's defense? Since when do you care if someone judges his nerdy gaming habits?

Jungkook looks equally surprised, eyebrows raised slightly as he studies your face. Then his expression shifts into something softer, almost appreciative.

"Exactly. Today's about celebrating you," Tessa adds, turning to Jungkook with a warm smile. "And apparently your inhuman ability to consume ramen."

"It's my superpower," he says solemnly. "With great appetite comes great indigestion."

A ripple of laughter moves around the table, breaking the awkward moment. Diana still looks sulky, but at least she's dropped the subject.

The waiter appears then, ready to take orders, and the conversation splinters as everyone tries to decide what they want.

"You really getting the level five spicy?" Yoongi asks quietly while the others debate.

"Yeah. Why, think I can't handle it?"

He snorts. "Just checking if I need to order extra water for when you inevitably start crying."

"I do not cry from spicy food."

"Everyone cries from spicy food if it's actually spicy."

"Well, we'll see, won't we?"

He shrugs, a barely perceptible movement of one shoulder. "Your funeral."

"Comforting as always, Yoon."

The ghost of a smile flits across his face before he returns to his default expression of mild disinterest.

Across the table, Jungkook is in the middle of a heated debate with Taehyung about... something involving a game you've never heard of. His hands move animatedly as he talks, face lit with genuine enthusiasm. One of his friends keeps trying to interject, but Jungkook and Taehyung are in their own world, talking over each other and somehow still understanding perfectly.

He looks so unguarded.

So... normal. Like any other twenty-something guy arguing about video games with his friends.

Not that you care. It's just an observation.

"So you're Jungkook's roommate," Diana says, drawing your attention back to her. Her tone suggests this is somehow both surprising and slightly concerning.

"Yep." You keep it brief, hoping she'll take the hint and drop whatever line of questioning is forming behind those judgmental eyes.

No such luck.

"And how did that happen exactly? Through the university housing board?"

"Craigslist, actually."

Her eyebrows shoot up like you've just admitted to finding the apartment through a demonic summoning ritual. 

“Oh! Isn't that... dangerous?"

"Not really. The apartment was already Yoongi and Jungkook's. I just answered the ad for the third room."

"Still," she persists, "moving in with two guys you don't know. That's brave."

The way she says ‘brave’ makes it clear she means ‘stupid,’ but you're not in the mood to defend your housing choices to someone who probably thinks spicy ramen is too adventurous.

"Not really. Yoongi's background check was pretty thorough," you deadpan. "Only had to provide three references, a blood sample, and my complete genetic history."

Diana blinks, clearly unsure if you're joking.

"It's true," Yoongi confirms without looking up from his phone. "Her midichlorian count was acceptable."

"What’s… midichlorian?" Diana asks uncertainly.

"It’s a real scientific test," you say, keeping your expression perfectly serious. "Very exclusive."

She frowns, increasingly confused, and you feel a small, petty satisfaction at her discomfort.

"They're fucking with you," Taehyung calls from across the table, apparently tuned into your conversation despite seemingly being absorbed in his argument with Jungkook. "It's a Star Wars reference."

"Oh." Diana forces a laugh that doesn't reach her eyes. "Right."

"Ignore them," Tessa says kindly. "They operate on their own wavelength sometimes."

"Especially these two," Hobi adds, gesturing between Taehyung and Jungkook. "Like an old married couple, but with more shouting and fewer financial benefits."

"What do you mean fewer financial benefits?" Jungkook protests. "I've been carrying his broke ass in-game economy for years."

"That gold farm was my idea!"

"Your idea crashed the server and got us banned for a week!"

"Details," Taehyung waves dismissively. "The point is, I'm the brains of this operation."

"And I'm the beauty," Jungkook fires back, striking a pose that makes Hobi snort water through his nose.

It's all so... easy. The banter, the inside jokes, the casual way they navigate each other's personalities. They've clearly had years to develop this rhythm, to learn each other's edges and how to fit together despite them—or maybe because of them.

Something twists in your chest, sharp and unexpected. You busy yourself with your water glass, suddenly very interested in the condensation gathering along its sides.

The waiter returns with drinks, setting them around the table. You're grateful for the distraction, for something to do with your hands besides fidget awkwardly.

"Alright," Hobi declares once everyone has a drink, lifting his glass. "To the birthday boy! May your K/D ratio remain impressive and your hairline unreceded."

"Here's to another year of Jungkook being Jungkook," Taehyung adds, raising his own glass. "God help us all."

"To Kooks," Tessa says, her voice softer but no less sincere. "Happy birthday."

Glasses clink around the table, a chorus of echoed sentiments following. You lift your glass automatically, catching Jungkook's eye as you do. He's watching you, before he smiles—small and surprisingly genuine.

"Thanks for getting me here," he says quietly, just for you.

"Don't mention it," you reply, equally quiet. "Seriously. Don't. I'll deny everything."

His smile widens, and for a moment, it feels like you're back in that booth from earlier—just the two of you, everyone else fading to background noise.

Then Taehyung jostles his arm, demanding his opinion on something, and the moment breaks. 

You take a sip of your drink, trying to ignore the strange feeling that's settled in your chest.

It's probably just hunger. Or the vodka from earlier. 

Or the fact that you've been in this loud, crowded restaurant for what feels like hours now, surrounded by people you barely know, playing a role you're not quite sure how to perform.

Yeah. That's definitely it.

The server arrives with a ridiculous number of bowls balanced along his arms like some kind of food-based Cirque du Soleil performer. Steam rises from each one, carrying scents that make your stomach growl with embarrassing volume.

A massive, angry-looking bowl lands in front of you, the broth practically glowing red. It looks like someone liquefied the sun and threw in some noodles as an afterthought.

Perfect.

Two bowls slide in front of Jungkook—your spicy demon soup's twin and something much more reasonable looking, probably miso based on the color.

"Hungry much?" you ask, eyeing his double order.

"Growing boy," he shrugs, already reaching for chopsticks.

Taehyung, meanwhile, receives... a plate of curry rice? 

"Seriously?" You can't help the judgment that leaks into your voice. "We're at a ramen place and you ordered curry?"

He shoots you a look that could curdle milk. "Some of us have taste beyond 'hot noodle soup.'"

"Some of us aren't afraid of flavor, dickasso."

"Bold words from someone currently holding weapons-grade capsaicin," he fires back, gesturing at your bowl. "Does your taste even function, or did you burn it all away with your sad little Hot Pockets diet?"

"At least I'm not too precious to eat what the restaurant specializes in."

“This is objectively superior."

"Only if your objective is being a pretentious dick."

"I prefer 'discerning connoisseur.'"

"You would."

You hate that banter with Taehyung is starting to become more and more comfortable. Like verbal sparring with someone who actually knows how to return a serve, instead of just standing there getting hit in the face with the ball. 

Not that you like him or anything. His whole vibe—artsy, too cool for school, judgmental as fuck—is objectively annoying.

But maybe also a little entertaining. 

In small doses. 

Very small.

Across the table, Hobi watches this exchange with undisguised amusement, head swiveling between you. 

"I feel like I'm witnessing the beginning of a beautiful friendship," he says, grinning widely. "Or a homicide. Hard to tell."

"Definitely homicide," Taehyung and you say in unison, then glare at each other for the coordination.

You turn your attention back to your ramen, inhaling the spicy steam before digging in. The first bite hits like a kick to the teeth—pain followed immediately by pleasure. 

It's fucking delicious despite feeling like you just licked the surface of the sun.

"Good?" Yoongi asks, watching your face with what might be the ghost of amusement.

"Incredible," you manage, already reaching for more.

Across the table, Jungkook dives into his own spicy bowl with enthusiasm, slurping noodles with zero concern for how it looks. A drop of broth escapes, clinging to his lower lip.

You're about to say something—point it out, make fun of his complete lack of eating etiquette, something—when Tessa reaches out, casual as anything, and swipes her thumb across his lip.

"Messy," she says, the word warm with affection.

He tilts his head toward her, smiling in a way that can only be described as flirtatious. 

“That's my brand."

You purse your lips, returning your attention to your own food. 

Whatever. Let him preen over a pretty girl paying attention to him. His loser ass probably never gets that chance.

Although... that's a lie and you know it. 

The guy is annoyingly good-looking and he knows it. He's probably used to girls fawning over him, cleaning his face like he's a toddler who can't be trusted with utensils.

"Whatcha looking at, Phee—" He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes widening slightly. "—asantly surprised by how spicy that ramen is? Your face is getting red."

Smooth recovery. Not.

"Just thinking about how long it's been since I've had decent ramen."

You grab your water glass, suddenly very aware of the burning sensation spreading across your tongue. 

It's fine. Totally manageable. Nothing to worry about.

"Knew it," Yoongi mutters beside you.

You set the glass down with more force than necessary. "It's not spicy."

"Uh-huh." He doesn't even bother looking up from his own bowl. "That's why your face is the same color as the broth."

"It's warm in here."

"Sure it is."

"I can handle spice."

"Never said you couldn't."

"You implied it."

He finally glances at you, expression as bored as ever. "I implied you're a liar, not a spice lightweight."

"I'm not—" Another wave of heat crashes through your mouth, cutting off your protest. "Fine. It's a little spicy."

The corner of his mouth twitches in what might be a smile on anyone else. "A little."

"Shut up and eat your boring miso."

Amazingly, he actually laughs—a short, quiet sound that's there and gone so quickly you almost think you imagined it. 

But no, that was definitely a laugh. From Yoongi. Directed at something you said.

Huh.

You return to your ramen, determined to finish it despite the way your sinuses are starting to protest. 

It's a matter of pride now. You said you could handle it, so you'll handle it, even if it kills you.

Which it might. But what a way to go.

You glance up, seeing how Jungkook and Tessa have their heads tilted toward each other, engaged in what looks like a very amusing conversation based on her laugh. She keeps touching his arm, casual little points of contact that seem to arrive at perfectly timed intervals.

She's good at this, you'll give her that. The whole flirting thing. Not too obvious, not too reserved. Just the right amount of interest without seeming desperate.

Huh. He might get laid tonight then. Not by you. 

Good for him. 

"You're staring again," Taehyung says, his voice pitched low enough that only you can hear. "Plotting his murder or just generally disapproving of his existence?"

"Just wondering how someone with the personality of a half-deflated balloon animal manages to function in society," you reply smoothly.

"Years of practice and an excellent support system." He gestures between himself and Hobi, who's busy trying to convince one of the gamer guys that yes, there is in fact sake in the sake bomb he just drank. "We've been managing his personality disorder since freshman year."

"Sounds exhausting."

"It is." His eyes drift to where Jungkook is now showing Tessa something on his phone, both of them laughing. "But he has his moments."

You turn your attention back to your food. Halfway through, you make the tactical error of taking a large bite just as Hobi says something particularly funny, causing you to inhale sharply—and sending a piece of chili directly into your windpipe.

Coughing. So much coughing. 

Your eyes water immediately, turning the table into a blurry mess of colors and shapes as you desperately reach for your water again.

"Easy there," Yoongi says, actually sounding a little concerned as he pushes your glass closer. "Small sips."

You manage to get the water down between coughs, the cool liquid offering minimal relief to your burning throat.

"You okay?" Jungkook asks, leaning across the table with a frown.

Great. Now everyone's looking at you. Perfect. Just what you wanted. All the attention.

"Fine," you rasp, waving a hand dismissively. "Went down the wrong pipe."

"Maybe you should try something less lethal," Diana suggests, eyeing your bowl with thinly veiled judgment. "Like the mild shoyu."

"I'm good with my life choices, thanks."

"Not all of them, I hope," Taehyung mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

You kick him under the table, aiming for his shin but probably hitting the table leg instead based on his lack of reaction.

"If you die from ramen, I'm not cleaning out your room," Yoongi says matter-of-factly.

"Noted. I'll make sure to haunt you specifically."

"Bold of you to assume I'd notice the difference."

"What, between me alive and me as a ghost?"

"You already have a resting bitch face and make weird noises at night. How would I tell?"

You choke again, this time on your own surprise. 

"I do not make weird noises at night!"

"The walls are thin."

Heat creeps up your neck, and it has nothing to do with the spice level of your food. 

“I don't—that's not—"

"Relax. I meant the way you talk in your sleep."

Oh. That's... marginally less mortifying.

"I talk in my sleep?"

"Constantly."

"About what?"

He shrugs. "Mostly nonsense. Something about pencils last night. Very intense opinions on pencils."

"I don't have opinions about pencils," you protest. "Intense or otherwise."

"Tell that to your subconscious."

The conversation shifts as one of the gamers—Ryan? you think?—slams his empty sake cup on the table with more force than necessary.

"Yo!" he announces, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "We should do shots. Birthday shots for the birthday boy!"

A chorus of approval goes up around the table. Even Diana looks on board with this plan, probably because alcohol is the one thing that might loosen up whatever's holding her personality together.

"The birthday boy needs birthday shots," Hobi agrees, already signaling the waiter.

Taehyung groans. "Please tell me we're not doing that ridiculous 'one shot for each year' tradition. I'm not carrying his drunk ass home again."

"That was one time," Jungkook protests.

"One time too many. You kept trying to pet dogs that weren't there."

"I was seeing through the space-time continuum to where dogs would eventually be."

"You threw up in my shower."

"I cleaned it!"

"With my loofah!"

"I replaced it!"

"After I used it!"

You watch this exchange with growing amusement, the rapid-fire back-and-forth almost dizzying in its intensity. It's clear this is a well-worn argument, trotted out for entertainment value rather than actual grievance.

"Fine," Taehyung concedes dramatically. "Birthday shots. But I'm not responsible for any hallucinated canines or bathroom incidents."

"Deal," Jungkook grins, then turns to Tessa. "You in?"

She laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I should probably pace myself. Early class tomorrow."

"Responsible," he nods, mock serious. "I respect that."

"Unlike some people," Taehyung mutters, glancing pointedly at Jungkook.

"It's my birthday. I'm legally exempt from responsibility for twenty-four hours."

"That's not a law."

"It's the law of birthdays, Tae. Everyone knows this."

Ryan—definitely Ryan—flags down the server successfully this time, ordering a round of shots for the table. 

“Even for the responsible ones," he insists when Tessa tries to decline. "Just one. For Proofs."

She relents with a smile, rolling her stupid pretty eyes. 

"You too, Miss Spicy Ramen," Ryan says, nodding toward you. "Unless you can't handle your liquor either."

Is that a challenge? It sounds like a challenge.

"I can handle my liquor just fine," you say.

“Debatable,” Jungkook mutters, the menace.

"Oh, fighting words," Hobi laughs, clapping his hands together. "I sense a story here."

"There's no story," Jungkook says quickly.

"I think we've found the first drinking game of the night," Hobi declares. "Most embarrassing Jungkook stories. Winner gets... I don't know, bragging rights and my eternal respect."

"That's not fair," Jungkook protests. "I'm the birthday boy. I should be exempt from humiliation."

"Birthday boy gets birthday roast," Taehyung counters. 

Even Yoongi cracks a smile at that, which might be the most shocking development of the evening so far.

Five shots in and the room has developed that particular tilt that makes everything both sharper and blurrier at the same time.

"Next round!" Seth announces, grinning as he surveys the damage he's caused. 

Seth, as you've learned through increasingly slurred introductions, is one of Jungkook's film school friends—tall, blonde, and way too enthusiastic about drinking games for someone his size. 

"Embarrassing stories! Laugh and you drink!"

Groans mixed with cheers ripple around the table, which has somehow gotten messier and louder with each passing shot. Empty glasses create a small army between plates. Someone knocked over the soy sauce earlier, and no one's bothered to clean it up.

"Oh, oh, OH!" Taehyung practically bounces in his seat, raising his hand like an overeager student. "I have one."

"This'll be good," Yoongi mutters beside you, the most he's spoken in twenty minutes.

Taehyung clears his throat dramatically. "Picture this: Eighth grade. School talent show."

"No," Jungkook groans, head dropping into his hands. "Not that one."

"Yes, that one." Taehyung's grin is borderline evil. "Our boy Kooks here decides he's going to impress Minah Park with a dance routine."

"I'm begging you," Jungkook says, voice muffled through his fingers.

"To what song, you ask?" Taehyung continues, undeterred. "None other than 'Milkshake' by Kelis."

Ryan lets out a bark of laughter, immediately reaching for his shot.

"Oh my god," Diana whispers, eyes wide.

"Did he know what the song was about?" Tessa asks, already giggling.

"That's the best part," Taehyung says, pausing for dramatic effect. "He thought it was literally about making good milkshakes. His mom helped him with the routine."

The table erupts. Even Yoongi snorts, reaching for his shot glass with resigned dignity. You're trying—genuinely trying—to hold it in, pressing your lips together, but then you make the mistake of looking at Jungkook's mortified expression and it's over. Laughter spills out, and you grab your shot, tossing it back with a wince.

"His mom found out what it meant halfway through the performance," Taehyung continues, wiping tears from his eyes. "Her face—I wish smartphones existed back then."

"I hate you," Jungkook mutters, but there's no heat behind it. "So much."

"Did Minah like it at least?" Hobi asks, still chuckling.

"She transferred schools the next week," Taehyung says solemnly. "Unrelated reasons, allegedly."

Another round of laughter, another round of shots.

"My turn," Hobi declares once the chaos subsides. "Let me tell you about the first time I met this guy."

"Which version are you telling?" Jungkook asks warily.

"The true one," Hobi says with a wink. "Picture it: 2021. Dance studio on 8th. This scrawny kid walks in, says he needs to film a project for his class."

"I wasn't scrawny," Jungkook protests.

"You were a twig with hair," Hobi dismisses. "Anyway, he sets up his equipment, very professional, very serious. Then my advanced hip-hop class starts, and halfway through, he abandons his camera to try and join in."

"Oh no," Tessa whispers, delighted.

"Oh yes," Hobi confirms. "He jumps in, full confidence, absolutely sure he can keep up. Two eight-counts later, he slips, takes out my star student, and they both crash into the mirror."

"It didn't break!" Jungkook interjects.

"It cracked," Hobi corrects. "Still there. I call it the Jungkook Memorial Spiderweb."

You laugh despite yourself, drinking quickly to hide your smile when Jungkook shoots you a betrayed look.

"What about you, Yoongi?" Seth asks, refilling glasses with alarming efficiency. "How'd you meet the birthday boy?"

Yoongi regards the question like it's asked him to explain quantum physics. 

“Music production seminar. He needed help with a film score." He shrugs. "He wasn't completely terrible."

"From Yoongi, that's basically a marriage proposal," Hobi stage-whispers.

"Wow, such a beautiful story," you deadpan. "So moving. So detailed."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Not all of us need a thousand words to make a point."

"Clearly." You snort, then immediately regret it when the room spins slightly. 

"What about you, new girl?" Seth asks, suddenly focused on you with an intensity that feels both flattering and vaguely predatory. "Got any good Jungkook stories from the roommate archives?"

All eyes turn to you, expectant. 

You scramble for something suitably embarrassing but not too revealing.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” you say, the alcohol making you bolder than usual. “But I have to live with him, so I’m weighing the entertainment value against the revenge factor.”

“Coward,” Taehyung coughs into his hand.

"Yeah, tell us the real dirt," Seth presses, leaning forward with a grin that suggests he's hoping for something scandalous.

You narrow your eyes, suddenly protective of the weird dynamic you share with Jungkook. These people don't get to know about the late-night arguments over the TV volume, or the silent coffee maker standoffs, or the way he sometimes hums in the shower when he thinks no one can hear.

"Sorry to disappoint," you say with exaggerated sweetness, "but I value my security deposit too much to reveal his darkest secrets."

"Cop-out," Seth accuses, but he's smiling.

"Another round!" Ryan announces, refilling shot glasses with something that smells vaguely like cinnamon and regret. "Tessa, you laughed at the dance story, you owe one."

“I didn’t!” she protests, but she’s fighting a smile now. “I was just… appreciating the story.”

“Liar! Your lips twitched. That’s a drink.”

She shakes her head, still smiling. “No way. I have that early class, remember?”

Before Ryan can argue further, Jungkook smoothly grabs her shot and downs it in one fluid motion. 

“Problem solved,” he says, setting the empty glass back on the table with a decisive clink.

Something about the gesture—casual, protective, maybe a little possessive—makes your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol or spicy ramen. 

Seth slides another shot toward you. “Here, you need a refill.”

You stare at it, trying to do math through the fuzzy haze of alcohol. 

How many shots have you had? Four? Five? You've lost count, which is probably not a great sign.

But everyone’s looking at you, waiting, and you’ve never been good at backing down from a challenge—especially when you’re already tipsy and your judgment is shot to hell.

You reach for the shot, hesitating only slightly. It burns going down, making you cough and sputter in a way that is definitely not attractive, but whatever. You can handle it.

Probably.

“Another round!” Seth calls. “Funniest pet stories. Go.”

And so the new game continues, stories flying around the table with increasing volume and decreasing coherence.

You lose track of who’s talking, everything blurring into laughter and voices and the clinking of glasses.

“Oh, and remember when Jungkook tried to sneak into that bar with his cousin’s ID?” someone is saying—maybe Ryan? The faces at the end of the table are swimming a bit. “The bouncer took one look at the picture and said, ‘This says you’re 5’4” and Filipino.’”

More laughter, more shots. The room spins again when you tilt your head back to drink.

“Another one for you,” Seth says, sliding a fresh shot in front of you after you laugh at something Hobi said. His hand lingers near yours on the table, fingers almost but not quite touching. “Don’t tell me you’re backing down so soon?"

The challenge in his tone hits some stupid part of your brain—the part that's been responsible for most of your worst decisions. 

So of course you grab the shot.

"Just getting started," you declare, tossing it back with more confidence than coordination. 

Seth grins, clearly pleased by your response. "I like you. You're fun."

"I'm a goddamn delight," you agree solemnly, which makes Taehyung snort into his drink.

The next round comes with someone telling a tale about Jungkook getting locked out of his dorm freshman year wearing only a towel. Hobi recounts the time Jungkook tried to learn breakdancing and sprained both wrists. Jungkook retaliates with something about Taehyung and body paint that has everyone howling and reaching for their drinks.

You keep pace, determined not to be the one who can't hang, even as the room develops an interesting spin and your tongue feels increasingly disconnected from your brain.

"Another one!" Seth declares, sliding a fresh shot in front of you.

You stare at it, hiccupping slightly. The thought of one more makes your stomach perform an acrobatic maneuver. 

"I don't know..."

"Come on," he urges, eyes bright with that specific drunk intensity people get when they're determined to make everyone else as wasted as they are. "Don't quit now."

You hiccup slightly, staring at the shot with growing uncertainty. 

Your stomach churns in warning.

But your pride is a stubborn, stupid stupid thing.

Before you can decide, Jungkook’s arm shoots across the table, grabbing the shot and downing it in one quick movement. His eyes find Seth’s, narrowed and unmistakably warning.

“I think she’s good,” he says, voice deceptively casual.

Seth raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just keeping the game going, man.”

You stare at Jungkook, confused by the intervention. He catches your look and shrugs, a simple ‘what?’ in his expression that somehow makes you frown harder.

The game shifts again, someone suggesting “Never Have I Ever” as a change of pace. Your brain struggles to keep up with the new rules, everything moving a little too fast, a little too loud.

“Never have I ever…” Seth taps his chin thoughtfully, eyes finding yours again. “Been skinny dipping.”

You groan internally. Of course he’d pick something designed to make people admit to being naked. Typical.

Those who have done it drink, including Jungkook, which makes Tessa raise her eyebrows in a way that seems both surprised and intrigued. 

You remain still, glass untouched, which somehow feels like a victory.

The questions continue around the table, growing progressively more suggestive as everyone’s inhibitions lower. 

A fresh shot appears in front of you, courtesy of Ryan, who’s moved on from the game and is now just passing out alcohol indiscriminately.

“Drink up!” he declares. “We’re celebrating!”

You stare at the shot, swaying slightly in your seat. The room feels too hot, too crowded, too everything. Your brain is sending out warning signals, but they’re muffled under layers of alcohol and stubbornness.

Jungkook is watching you, expression unreadable but lips pressed together in what might be concern. 

He knows you shouldn’t drink that. 

You know you shouldn’t drink that. 

But admitting it feels like losing somehow.

So you reach for the glass. Fingers clumsy.

Suddenly it’s gone—snatched away by a hand behind you.

“She doesn’t want any more, broski.”

You whip around so fast the room spins alarmingly, but there’s no mistaking that voice, that attitude, that general aura of ‘fuck around and find out.’

Yeji throws back the shot with 0 problem, slamming the empty glass on the table with a decisive clink. 

Behind her, Irya and Jimin hover like backup, taking in the scene with varying levels of amusement.

“Surprise.” Yeji grins, sharp and protective. “Happy birthday, dickhead,” she adds, nodding at Jungkook. “Mind if we crash the party?”

goal: 600 notes

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© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[heartyluv]

would you ever consider writing sleepy, soft, clingy zayne? baby is completely wrapped around you and won’t let go, even if you have to get up and go to the bathroom 🥺🥺🥺

Note: Fluffy Zayne is always the cutest because you just know he only lets himself be that way in front of you. I listened to Comfortable by H.E.R while I wrote this and it’s just soooooo ADORBS. I hope you love this!

No Warnings! :)

Clingy!Zayne/Reader

I’m outside. Please open the door for me, love.

When you read that notification, your heart starts to flutter like crazy in your chest. You can’t stop smiling, even past your shock as you quickly stand up from the couch to throw on some pants. Even if he’s your boyfriend, you don’t tend to answer the door in your panties.

Quickly, you run to your apartment door and pull it open to find your boyfriend standing there with a tired expression on his handsome face. But he smiles softly, looking at you with so much love.

He’s dressed appropriately for the cold weather in all black with his long peacoat, slacks, and button up shirt with his classic Oxfords. He presses his rectangle wire framed glasses up on his nose, opening his arms when he sees you ready to run into them.

His unique scent and expensive cologne fills your nostrils, bringing you comfort. You missed him so much.

“Babe, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back today? I thought I wouldn’t see you for another week,” you mumble against his neck as he braces one solid arm around your waist to hold you close. He deeply inhales your scent as well.

Home, is all that fills his mind.

“I was able to finish everything quicker than anticipated. I wanted to come back to you,” he answers truthfully as he places one gentle kiss below your ear.

Zayne had been sent across the country for a series of serious research meetings that included things he couldn’t exactly discuss right now, but they were doing big things. Good things. He was gone for a whole month and you never thought it was possible to miss another human being as much as you missed him. Seeing as he was able to miraculously get a week’s worth of anticipated work done within two days, the feeling was mutual.

When you two hesitantly pull apart, you don’t pry him with questions or anything. You’ll save that for when he’s well rested. You can hear how tired he is. You know he’d be more than willing to sit up and talk to you, but you could never do that to him.

“Hungry?” you ask him as he rests his suitcase beside your shoe rack before shutting the door.

He shakes his head, pulling off his coat, but hesitating as he answers. “I ate on the plane. Are you? I can head back out and get you something.”

You smile at his thoughtfulness and shake your head, helping him pull it off completely. “I’m okay, bub. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

He accepts your help. “Is it okay if I shower first?”

“Of course,” you nod. “ You know I have some of your clothes here, too. And I can get your laundry started and in the dryer to finish overnight. Just take your time.”

“You’re too good to me,” he says genuinely, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. But that’s not enough, so he presses three more to your soft mouth before actually pulling away this time to get cleaned up.

You do just what you said you’d do, going inside his suitcase and washing the simple garments, making a note to bring his work clothes to the cleaners.

Zayne’s finished and back to you within thirty minutes, just as you start his clothes in the dryer. His face is free of his glasses, but not his exhaustion. He’s shirtless, only wearing a simple pair of gray sweatpants.

“Your apartment is warm,” he answers when you can’t help but stare at his muscular chest. That makes you laugh, pressing a kiss to one of his pecs when you walk up to him.

“Need me to turn it down?”

“No need,” he answers. “Are you ready for bed?”

You tell him yes, shutting off all your lights and climbing into your bed once in your room. Your poor baby is so tired, so you don’t small talk as you let him rest his head on your chest, wrapping his arms around you to finally get some good sleep—something he hasn’t had since he left you.

“Goodnight, love,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I’m not as talkative right now. But I will be in the morning. Thank you for everything.”

You run your hand through his partially damp hair, admiring the softness of his dark strands. “It’s okay, I understand completely. I’m just glad you’re here. I’d do anything for you.” He snuggles into you deeper at that, making your heart swell. “Sleep well, okay? We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

When the sun rises, you blink away the sleepiness as you wake up and admire the golden glow of the light streaming in through your windows. You and Zayne are in the same position that you were last night. This time though, his leg has both of yours trapped. He’s wrapped around you entirely and he did it all in his sleep. You look down as he rests on your chest so peacefully, admiring the gentle curve of his nose.

You just take the time to admire him in his entirety. You think of how lucky you are to have such a man like him as yours and in your life. You couldn’t want for anything when your everything is right here.

You look ahead at your clock that’s on your dresser, seeing 9:27 AM. It’s early for you, but this is sleeping in for your hard working man. You want him to get more of that, but you want to have some food ready for him as well as get his laundry folded.

And you have to pee.

You start to slide away, at least you try to. But Zayne’s grip on you is surprisingly stronger than you expected. You chuckle at his bicep, watching the muscle that refuses to release you, flex so effortlessly.

“Stay,” he mumbles sleepily, nuzzling into you more and huffing out a breath through his nose.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you frown. “I gotta get up though, babe.”

“You don’t have work.”

Of course he knows that’s. Even if it’s a Thursday, he knows your schedule just as well as he’s mesmerized his own.

“I want to take care of some things for you, is all.” Your rake fingers down his scalp, smiling at how he shudders. One of his weak spots. Bonus for you that his hair is extra fluffy after air drying over night. You relish in this because he’s not going to let it stay that way when he gets up, but you just love how extra soft it is when it’s like this.

“We’ll go out for breakfast, so you don’t need to cook. Don’t leave me. I’ve been without you long enough,” he speaks, but the tiredness in his voice makes you feel awful. You really didn’t want to bother your sweet baby.

“Can I pee, at least?” you shake with a laugh and you see the corner of his mouth tilt up in amusement. Even if he’s so hesitant, he cares about your health. He wouldn’t be your Dr. Zayne if he didn’t.

“Two minutes,” he commands. And you listen, rushing up and using the bathroom quickly. After taking care of your business and washing your hands, he’s on his back on the left side of your bed.

You climb back in, and he gets on top of you immediately, placing himself in between your legs and putting his face right on your boobs. He hums, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you start to rub his scalp again while he uses the silk of your nightgown and your pillowy breasts like a pillow.

The bed is long enough so that his feet isn’t hanging off of it, and he uses this to his advantage to be sandwiched close to you.

“I missed you so much,” he says with closed eyes, making yours water at how loving his tone is. You’d do anything for this man. He’s your universe.

“I missed you too,” you admit, kissing the top of his head and rubbing down his strong back.

“Is it alright if I stay for a few days? I don’t have work until Monday. Being with you is all I’d like to do.”

“You don’t even have to ask. You can stay as long as you’d like. Forever is an option, as well.”

He kisses your breast, placing his cheek right back on top and getting comfortable.

It’s silent for a moment between you two for a moment—comfortable.

“I love you,” he squeezes you even tighter.

The butterflies in your stomach are holding hands and spinning in circles while singing the cheesiest love songs at his affection. “I love you most.”

You eventually fall back asleep, resting for the whole morning and into the afternoon as Zayne stays glued to you. He’s like that for the rest of the day as well as each one after that during the days you spend together.

Being able to have a safe space like you is all he’s ever wanted and being lucky enough to have it is all he’ll ever need.

[gay-dorito-dust]

random Bob shit because why not.

There was one thing that Bob did that you loved and that was how he casually displays his strength in mundane means, whether that'd be gently moving you to the side as he reached for something, moving furnature with effortless ease so you didn't have to strain yourself in carrying heavy boxes; and or rushing to your aid upon seeing that you were at risk of having something hit you square on the head as he held them at bay with one hand and keeping you protectively against him with the other that laid respectively on your lower back.

His question of 'are you okay?' were enough to have you internally swooning as you intentionally leaned further into him, listening to his calm heart as your brain tried to comprehend that he had traversed from one side of the room to you within miliseconds, just to stop you from getting hurt from something so small as a stray cup from falling on your head.

You often called Bob your golden guardian becuase of it, that and mainly becuase you liked how his eyes would avert from yours just as a shy smile crept across his face, giving away his true feelings towards the nickname.

For a man as powerful as Bob he sure managed to somehow make himself the least physically imposing man you've ever met by being sweet and somewhat awkward at times, so much so that when he does prove that he was the most powerful of your ragtag group was enough to have you question where the strength came from, only to remember that Bob was always the stronger one out of all of you.

Which was silly but you couldn't help it as you didn't want to reduce Bob to his powers and other attributes that came with all that he endured. You even forget that he was completely invincible, immune to all forms of harm when you thought he had gotten hurt once, quickly rushing to his side just to see he was perfectly fine.

'i thought you were hurt.' you tell him when you saw his look of confusion sent your way.

'you've seen me do incredible feets of strength and yet you thought i would get hurt from a papercut?' Bob asks with hints of amusement in his voice as he watched you craddle his unscathed hand to your chest, caressing in means of calming yourself down more then him.

'i wouldn't refer to almost having a knife slice open your palm as a paper cut.' you replied as your thumb moves across his palm that would've been a bloody mess had his healing factor not kicked in, feeling a little silly as you were reminded that Bob was beyond human in every aspect you could possibly think of, a god amongst men if you were to really think about it.

Bob smiles, finding your forgetfulness towards his powers adorable and endearing as this only further told him that you loved him regardless of whether he had powers or not, given how quickly you were to move to see if he was okay in the same manner as he would when he thought you were hurt. It warmed his heart to know that you both reacted in similar circumstances, wanting to keep the other safe to the best of your abilities, to take care of each other while sharing moments that felt reminiscent of a dream domestic life by having a shared living space together.

A dream come true for Bob, not that he needed to admit this to you as he knew his face gave it all away for you to understand his inner workings. He kisses the side of your head, smiling. 'i'll be more careful next time if that makes you feel better.' he says and you couldn't help but softly slap his bicep, pouting.

'god forbid i get worried about you.' you said as Bob held you closer to him, now laughing at your seemingly moppy state.

'i'm not making fun of you for it, if anything i find it really sweet of you being concerned about me. So i'd much rather you do this more constantly if it makes you feel better.' Bob kisses your head once again as he closed his eyes, hoping everyday with you would be like this all the time.

[latenightdaydreams]

Tempting!Reader x HolyMan!König Pt2

MDNI🔞

Master List

Part 1

cw: religion, age gap, broken oaths, oral, virginity loss, unprotected s*x

1.9k word count

⛪

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Father König looks at you in disbelief. The cute way the corner of your lip is upturned and the sparkling look in your eyes. For a moment he forgets who he is, standing there in silence before clearing his throat and dropping his gaze to the wooden door.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”

“I was wanting to speak with you, if that’s okay?”

His pale blue eyes meet with yours once more, lingering for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. “Please, come in.” With one hand he gestures for you to enter as he scans the surrounding area for anyone that might see him inviting you in. It’s not as if it’s unheard of, but his gut is telling him this is not right.

As you walk in you look around the mostly empty home. It’s homely and filled with religious iconography. You turn, looking up to Father König as he walks closer to you. As nervous as you are, you’re trying to not show it.

“It’s cozy in here.”

“Thank you. Why don’t you have a seat and we can speak about why you’re here.” A million reasons as to why you’d stop by flood his mind. Was it something about home life? A possible boyfriend he doesn’t know about? The thought of you with another man makes his heart sink into his stomach, he prays that isn’t it.

You sit on the couch, on the middle cushion so that Father would have to sit next to you. “Well, it’s actually kind of embarrassing.” The words come out quietly as your fiddle with the hem of your dress.

“There is no need to be embarrassed. I’d never judge you.” Father König sits next to you, trying to make himself smaller so that his legs won’t brush up against yours.

A soft giggle leaves your lips, sounding like angels singing to his ears. His eyes drift down to your thighs. They look as if they would be so enjoyable to squeeze. The sound of your voice snaps his gaze back up to your own.

“I—I uh…” Your voice trails off as you feel your heart pounding in your chest. “I guess I have a secret that I’ve been holding on to for a long time.”

A simple nod encourages you to continue.

“I know that this is…odd. Wrong. But I just can’t stop how I feel.” Your eyes meet his, a look of longing in his gaze. “I have strong feelings for you.”

Deafening silence lingers in the air as Father feels a lump stick in his throat. His gaze, more intense. It’s as if he forgot how to breathe, a tingle in his groin growing by the second. All he can do is nod his head, trying to bite his tongue and admit that he feels the same way towards you.

“I’ve felt this way for a while. I know that this is wrong.” You look to him for any type of response but he remained quiet. “I’m sorry if I’ve said too much.”

“No—” His voice cracks, throat dry as a desert. “It’s normal. Humans... we can’t control how we feel.”

The tension in the room becoming even more undeniable. You gaze up at him, noticing his chest rising and falling quickly as he allows his eyes to drop down to your cleavage. Slowly he is losing self-control. Your confession, your proximity, the look in your eyes, the sweet smell of your sweat mixed with your perfume. With out any hesitation, you reach out and place your hand on his thigh. Waiting for his reaction.

König feels a wave of heat consume his body as you touch him. His cock becomes erect, straining against the fabric of his black slacks. He finally breaks his gaze away from your chest to look down at your thighs and back up to your face.

“Do you have feelings for me too?”

“I—” he gazes deeply into your eyes. “I shouldn’t.”

“But you do.” You move you hand up his thigh more, the large bulge in his pants impossible for you to not notice.

“I do.” König reaches out and places his hand on yours, stopping you from going any higher. “But I took an oath.”

“I know, but you’re human too. You deserve love and intimacy.”

The word intimacy causes him to let out a deep sigh. To be with you in the most primal of ways is all he has ever dreamed of. And here you are, offering yourself to him. He would be a fool to deny you, but also a fool to defy god.

“I shouldn’t.”

His hand moves from yours as he relaxes back into the couch even more. You take this as a sign to push the boundaries. Your hand slides up until you touch his erection, wrapping your hands around him and gently squeezing.

“We shouldn’t.” The words leave him weakly and unconvincingly. His hips instinctively push up, grinding into your palm.

“We should.” You release your grasp and move to straddle his lap.

The weight of you feels heavenly. His large hands move to your rear, cupping your ass and squeezing as he grinds into you. He looks into your eyes longingly, dropping his eyes to your plump lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You grab his jaw and lower your face to his, capturing his lips in a deep passionate kiss.

König moves one hand up your back, grasping your hair and holding you in place. His mouth opens against yours, pushing his tongue past your lips. Your saliva mixes together as his other hand moves from your ass to the front of your dress, cupping your breast before pulling down the fabric to expose your braless chest.

You lean back, breaking the kiss. Wasting no time König moves his attention to your breast. He wraps his lips around on nipple, sucking lightly on your hard nipple and tugging with his lips. With his hand he twirls your other between his thumb and pointer finger. You run your fingers through his hair, moaning softly as your experience this new pleasure.

“Father.” You whimper.

“Mmm.” He responds, lost in the feeling of your body.

When he pulls back, he looks up at you. “I need more.”

Watching you nod, he lifts you body and switches places with you on the couch. He watches as your dress lifts, exposing your cotton underwear. His hands move to his collar, tossing it aside before unbuttoning his shirt and pants. You reach behind you to unzip the tiny zipper holding your dress to you, allowing it to fall from your body.

“You’re beautiful.” He says as he pulls his boxer brief off. His cock springs free, showing off just how impressive his size is.

Your eyes linger for a moment as you wonder if it will be painful. Quickly the thought leaves you as he kneels before you, removing the dress from your body completely. His eyes roam over your body like a hungry animal. It’s been so long since he’s seen a woman like this, touched one. And now he has the privilege to have you.

“Let me show you pleasure.”

König grabs the hem of your underwear and pulls them down slowly. Freshly shaved, you came here with the intention of him seeing you like this. That thought only turns him on even more. He moves each of your legs to the side, letting the rest open allowing him full access to you.

Without saying a word, you watch as Father lowers his head between your legs. One small flick of the tongue directly on your clit causes your legs to twitch. Embarrassed, you close your eyes and drop your head back against the cushion of the couch.

König doesn’t notice your embarrassment. He is far too focused, in a dazed like state as he tastes the sweet, sweet creamy nectar that just touched his tongue. There are no other thoughts in his mind as he laps like a starved animal at the folds between your lips. Your moans consume his senses as his tongue makes small circles around your clit before sucking lightly. With one hand he moves to his cock, stroking it. He just wants to put it in you, but he knows he is your first and he has to get you relaxed and ready for him.

“Father.” You moan out as your right leg trembles uncontrollably. “Please.”

His head rises, looking directly at you with shinny lips. His eyes nearly black from how large his pupils have gotten. “You taste so sweet.” He looks back down at your glistening pussy. “Do you want to go…further?”

“Yes…”

“Are you sure?”

No words, only a nod.

There are no condoms. There would be no reason for a person like him to posses any. Aware of all the risk, König doesn’t even hesitate. For the last few years, you’re the only thing that has been getting him off. To be able to actually cum in your pussy seems almost too good to be true.

Kneeling before you, he pulls you down towards the edge of the couch more. He leans in to kiss along your stomach and back down to your pussy. Worshiping your body before he takes the precious gift he’s about to receive.

König grasps his cock in his hand, rubbing the tips between your lips to get it wet. The color of his bright pink tip next to your pussy is like art to him. He slips down, feeling his cock sink slightly. Instantly his eyes shoot up to meet yours. Checking your reaction to make sure you’re okay.

Each hand now grasping your thighs, he pushes them back towards you. You look at him with anticipation, not knowing what to expect. That’s when a sharp pain shoots through your body as you feel Father’s body meet with yours. A loud gasping moan leaves your mouth as your eyebrows pinch together.

“Mein Gott.” König moans out. He shoves all 9 inches of his cock inside of you at once. A greedy move, but he needs this. The expression on your face will forever live with him. Your virginity is his now.

He gently draws his hips back before pushing forward again. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thighs as he tries to control his pace. All he wants to do is mercilessly fuck you, let the primal beastly side of man consume him and ravish your whole body. But he knows he can’t—yet.

König looks down at his cock stretching your tight little cunt. A small trace amount of blood mixes with the creamy white color of your cum. He watches as he buries himself deep inside of you. The pain moans flowing from your lips are like little melodies.

“Father König… fuck.” Your hands reach out and hold your legs.

It’s been too long. As much as he tries to hold back, he can’t. His balls tighten as he locks eyes with you. A pathetic groan leaves him, followed by his cock throbbing inside of you as he cums. He can feel his face grow red with embarrassment, he didn’t even last five minutes.

“I’m sorry. It’s been so long and… you feel so amazing.” He mumbles as he leans forward to rest his head on your chest.

You comb your fingers through his hair and breathlessly reply, “I understand. It was still amazing.”

“Are you hurt?” His eyes close, enjoying the closeness.

“I’ll be okay.”

“You did so well for your first time.” He kisses your breasts, up to your neck. “I want to do this again.”

“I do too.”

[ckret2]

i come to you today with another samurai jack AU. quick recap of where this AU diverges from canon:

("hey i haven't seen the show and idk what's going on" okay, watch this from 9:56)

Every once in a while somebody goes "do we really KNOW Aku (as a separate entity from the space blob) is inherently evil? or did he just immediately turn evil due to the fact that his very first interaction was his creator telling him he meant to kill him? how would things have gone differently if that hadn't happened?" and I went okay, sure, let's roll with that.

AU where the emperor DIDN'T immediately give Aku a motive to hate humanity and just sort of claims him. that's his son now.

and that's Jack's brother now.

listen, I've made jokes in two different posts about Jack & Aku having the same birthday and y'all should have interpreted that as a threat.

Aku is NOT allowed to name himself Literally The Word "Evil." He gets named Kage. And being called Literally The Word "Shadow" is edgy enough to satisfy him so he goes with it.

Since Jack never gets named "Jack," he's going by his real name. which in this au is Hikari, because adoptive twins named Light and Shadow feels like the kind of corny symbolism this show would jump all over.

it's also an actual phrase: 光と影 (hikari to kage, "light and shadow") meaning "rise and fall; ups and downs; shame and glory; bright side and dark side; light and shadow"

I wonder a lot about the fact that Aku's just, like, created as an adult. We know he's capable of developing and changing—he does during the course of the show—so like, he hasn't been static since he was born. What was he pre-loaded with, then, and what came later?

what if he looks adult to human eyes, but mentally he's just a young child that can already talk & fight. "Guy tells baby he was trying to kill him; baby throws a tantrum and decides to take over the world"—that feels like a perfectly proportionate emotional reaction for an actual newborn less than five minutes old for whom this is not only the worst thing to ever happen to him, but the ONLY thing to ever happen to him.

This isn't how I interpret Aku by default; but it IS how I'm interpreting him in this AU so that he can mentally keep pace with Jack and so that he has to "grow up" even though he already looks grown. Sure, this means that at a week old he's saying stuff like "if that odious daimyo visits Father again today, I will rip his body asunder and send his charred skull back to his grieving children" but he's also saying stuff like "why does my brother get a blanket but I don't? 🥺"

"oh," you say, "so this is like a nice soft AU where nothing bad happens?"

NO. It's an AU about a demon tree child under constant pressure to make himself smaller & less threatening so everyone stops fearing him, and he's never quite small enough or unthreatening enough unless he's literally disguised as something other than himself—and sometimes not even then.

It's about the less favored son who can never seem to do anything right enough to gain his father's approval. Sometimes he almost thinks his father hates him. But that can't be true, right? After all, his father went out into the wilderness with a potion and some hocus-pocus to make him on purpose, and why would he have done that if he didn't want him? Surely there isn't some other secret reason his father made him that he doesn't know about. Is he just not living up to his father's expectations? Is he too much trouble?

At least his brother loves him unconditionally.

[revelboo]

Sooo just went to my Dad’s funeral today. I feel a good amount of closure now. Your stories have helped make the last few days better. Thanks for that! :D

Mind updating us on Ratchet? Or ES bumblebee? Somehow that version of Bee has made me fall for him heres my 15 year old ball of spazz Sprinkles for attention.

Sure. Hope you’re doing okay 💕

The Future Freaks Me Out Pt 5

ES Bumblebee x Reader

• Stretched out in a lawn chair with a book, you look up at the sound of tires. And Bumblebee is transforming and hesitating as you lift an arm in greeting. Before turning and lifting a hand slightly to shield his optics. What is his problem? “Um, that’s a lot of skin,” he calls out, looking embarrassed and you laugh. Is he shy?

• “I’m tanning,” you say, voice laced with laughter at his expense as you stand, setting aside your book and his door wings fidget. Because that really is a lot of skin. “I’m going to a waterpark with some friends in a couple of weeks,” you add and he freezes at that.

• “You’re not wearing that out, are you?” He asks and you just arch your brows at him wondering what the issue is. Maybe since he doesn’t wear clothes, it’s just weird to see you in swimwear when he’s used to seeing you with a lot more on? Watching his door wings flick, you’re not sure that’s the issue, though. Can’t even guess why it would bother him. “I mean, you can obviously do whatever you want.” Uh huh. He really looks like he means that, you think in amusement. And you’re tempted to just let him keep digging that hole, but you take pity on him.

• “It’s okay,” you say and he’s not sure where to look. Can’t look at you while you’re dressed like that, because he’s not sure he’ll be able to look away. You look incredibly soft. And it’s a relief when you grab a thin, lace coverup and pull it on to at least somewhat hide some skin. “You’re too cute, you know.”

• And he’s flustered all over again, running a big hand over his face as his door wings flick. “Cute,” he repeats and you can’t tell if he’s offended or pleased. Definitely embarrassed, though. Walking over to him, you have the errant thought that it’s too bad he’s not human, because he really is a sweetheart.

Previous

[ghoulishhx]

I cant stop thinking about frank and professor!reader😖not in the sense that he's in your class, but like you're a professor, coming home from work in a nice little pencil skirt, button up and tights, and frank is all sweet and nice, very fluffy ideas of going over class curriculum or lectures, him sitting with you in his lap while you grade papers, maybe him picking you up after class. and you know, maybe he teasingly plays into the teacher thing, calling you miss and getting a little too excited when you come home all sophisticated and teachery from work. like ugh my dream I'm afraid

gahhh thissss. oh my god yes. I feel like one of frank would go feral for this. seeing you in a white button up shirt, black pencil skirt with shear black tights and heels, it would take every bit of self restraint to not make you call in sick for work everyday.

but horny frank aside, he would absolutely love hearing you talk about your day, he would listen intently about your planned lectures tomorrow and help you organise papers.

on weekends he'd sit from the sofa, black coffee in hand as he watches you work at the dining table, going over the class' mock exams and marking them ready for Monday.

"shit frankie do you know where I left my red marking pen? I can't find it anywhere.." he can't help but chuckle as he walks over to you, reaches behind your ear and pulls it from behind it as if he were a magician.

"right here doll. you gotta take a break, c'mon sweetheart we're goin' for a walk. been grading all damn day." he takes your hand in his, raising your knuckles to his lips as he grabs your jacket from the chair you're sat on.

he LOVES how smart you are, being a university lecturer and all. Frank surprised you when you first moved in together, taking your diplomas and such from their tubes and framing them for you above the fireplace -

"oh frankie, you didn't have to do all this. thank you so much" you say, pulling him into a hug.

"wasn't gonna let 'em collect dust in a box forever babydoll, proud of my girl. my smart fuckin' girl." he softly speaks into your hair, placing a kiss on your forehead as he looks at your certificates, in the perfect spot for everyone to see (as they should)

he'd make an effort to pick you up from work every day he's not working, waiting for you at the front in his truck. your students start recognising his truck out the window, and tease you at the end of class with ooo's and raised eyebrows. you shake your head and tell them to get back to work as your eyes drift out the window yourself and catch Frank's as he smiles at you. 3pm can't come quick enough.

you'd be planning lessons, replying to emails on your laptop in your living room and frank would sit next to you, pulling you into his lap as you continue working, peering over your shoulder. you always share staff room gossip with him, and he always offers his inputs and remembers their names. he notices you're emailing one particular teacher you've been talking about with him -

"oh shit how's Mr Stevenson doin'? y'mentioned he was goin' through a shitty divorce"

"he's doing better, turns out him and Miss Hunter have been.. you know.." you turn to him and raise your eyebrows and his jaw drops.

"you're fuckin' joking, thought she was with Miss whats-her-name.. Miller?"

"oh no I forgot to tell you, they split a couple months ago.."

and the conversation continues. you can't help but smile to yourself during, the fact he remembers almost everything you ramble on to him about makes your heart warm, his genuine interest is so welcoming.

briefly back to horny frank (I'm sorry I'm only human), some (most) times you'd come home and the only thing he wants to do is rip your clothes from your body, like i mentioned prior the teacher look on you makes him insane. he'd meet you at the door, take your bag from you and instantly scoop you into his arms, attacking your face and neck with kisses -

"frank! what are you-"

"sorry doll, just need ya.. that okay with you, miss?"

you'd playfully swat his chest at the nickname with a free hand before placing your arms around his neck, and let him carry you to your bedroom where he shows you for hours on end just how bad he needed you from the moment he saw you this morning.

he just loves his working girl so damn much. need him ugh

thank you for this request, this was something I never knew I needed!! i hope you enjoyed ♡

[ryker-writes]

(･.･ﾉʰⁱⁱ

I have a request! Also new to your account >< so hello! I love your writing. Seriously. It's too bad I'm no good with words because I'd go on about how well your writing is.

Now, my english probably isn't the best. I apologize if anything is spelled wrong.

I request a twisted wonderland x male reader ( because we're lacking in male readers 😔 ) but actually if you wanna change the gender of the reader go ahead!

The reader is deaf. How would they react? Would it change anything?

You can choose which characters, I don't mind 🙃

Thank you for considering my request!

- a { partially } deaf user ^°^

Thank you so much anon! And don't worry, your english is good! I've decided to do Malleus, Kalim, and Vil. Hope those are okay! I tried my best but wasn't sure what all to go over for this one, so I hope it's good :)

Request rules and Masterlists

Malleus:

I'm going to be honest, he doesn't know how to react in the beginning

I sincerely doubt in his long life, that he's met someone who's deaf, and even if he has, the fae in Briar Valley use magic to communicate anyway

All this to say, he doesn't know, nor can he understand sign language

At first he suggests using magic, but depending on your level of magic, you might not be able to communicate well like that

So, he resorts to the classic of "I don't know sign language or anything, so we'll write to communicate"

and I do mean write, because we all know he's not great with technology, so he has a whole notebook that he dedicated to communicating

It's one of those super thick and high quality notebooks too

He does eventually learn sign language, but he keeps that notebook close and sometimes still likes to communicate with you using it because he likes looking back at your past conversations and reliving the memories of them

If you think he's leaving you out of conversations due to his inability to use sign language, you're dead wrong because he will recount everything people say in exact words, even using magic to make their words appear in the air like a screen translator

The only time he'll ever stop translating, is when the person is saying something offensive to or about you, but you'll be able to tell anyway by the flash of lightning outside and the look on Malleus' face that says "if you don't take back what you said about my human, you will face the fury of a dragon directly, and will end up being deaf yourself"

He is a bit more protective of you because you're deaf, and the entire school knows it too

Like I mentioned earlier, he does eventually learn sign, and Lilia helps him too! Sebek learns alongside Malleus because if Malleus is learning it, he feels he should too in order to be a better knight

if you ask anyone else to translate for you, he might get upset and pouty

Kalim:

Yeah, he's so lost and confused at first

Kalim knows and has met deaf people before, but he doesn't know sign language, nor does he have the idea to use magic

When he's met deaf people in the past, there's usually been a translator nearby to help him communicate

And if we're being completely transparent, he probably doesn't notice at first

I imagine your first meeting is him talking like crazy, and you trying to find a good way to tell him and communicate to him that you can't hear what he's saying

It isn't until he stops and asks you a question that you get a proper chance to try and communicate that you can't hear him

our sweet Kalim, once he realizes, he makes Jamil come over because Jamil knows sign language

Jamil begrudgingly comes along and helps translate the initial conversation

Sweet sweet Kalim, he's trying to learn sign language after that to be able to communicate as smoothly with you as Jamil does, but until then he almost always has Jamil translating, or hires a translator to travel with you around campus in an effort to make it easier for you to communicate with other students

He absolutely forgets sometimes that you're deaf and will run up to you trying to talk, and excitedly start telling you something, but sometimes his lips move so fast and he's bouncing around so it's hard for you to tell what he's trying to say

Much like him, his sign language is very rushed and messy

He's not necessarily protective or anything, but he gets really excited after he learns sign and tries to translate for everybody

Jamil is just happy he doesn't have to translate anymore

If Kalim is desperate and can't get his sign right, or forgets how to sign something, he might write it down for you

It does take him a bit to adjust to, so be patient, and sometimes he just signs without speaking or he'll automatically start signing to other people out of habit

People are confused when Kalim comes up to them signing quickly

So he's a bit forgetful, and he takes a bit to realize and learn sign, but he absolutely tries his best to accommodate you and adapt to communicate better

Vil:

Doesn't even blink

Vil has worked with many different types of people, and some of them have had hearing impairments, speech issues, or just uses sign language to speak often for various reasons

He likely already knows sign language prior to meeting you, so he has absolutely no issues communicating with you!

He speaks out loud while he signs so you have both his lips and his signs to read depending on whichever you'd like

Vil personally encourages just about all students around him to learn another language, and that encouragement gets worse after meeting you

Suddenly 90% of Pomefiore is learning sign language

Much like him, his sign language is very smooth and elegant

Even when others are talking and don't know sign language, he signs what they're saying to help you keep up and understand the conversation

He's not really overprotective, or treats you any different actually

He just treats you like another person (with a little more gentleness because he cares about you more than them of course)

Vil would only write in notebooks or on a device to communicate if that's what you wanted, but personally, he thinks it's a much slower and ineffective way of communicating

Even when signing with others, he's paying close attention to your expression and the way they sign, making sure they get it right and you're able to understand

Now, Vil is a part of the film studies club, so films and videos are something big he wants to share. That being said, because you can't hear them, he makes sure to carefully select what movies are selected and the quality of it without noise, and of course the quality of the subtitles

He wants you to be able to enjoy it as much as he does, and while sound is a big part of filmmaking, it's not a very good film in his eyes if it can't be enjoyed by people without sound

All in all, it makes no difference to Vil! He has no issues with it at all, and it changes nothing to him

[rexhya]

The Mystical Islands | beach gazing — ✦ ✦

synop — a marine biologist takes a solo trip to faraway islands aquire knowledge on endangered species and what can be done to help them! finding two mythical creatures wasn't exactly on your list of things but you'd never turn a blind eye to a creature in need.

warn — mini series! female reader, merman!suguru, merman!satoru, i ave no idea what real marine biologists do

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

7 AM, it was your third day and a great day on the Mystical Islands. Despite being almost 3,000 miles away from home you were feeling pretty confident about your research. You had already found a great deal of information about the wildlife in the ocean and the locals helped you as well.

It was around 12 PM when hou have first saw something that shouldnt exist. You hummed lightly, typing away at your laptop and enjoying the beach breeze. Your cabin was being rented for all of the three months you'd be staying here and you were glad to have such a nice spot near the beach.

"Suguru look, she's looking this way now. Do you think she can see us?"

"She'd better not or we might be in trouble, theres no telling what a human could do."

"Look it's fine, she went back to typing."

"You sound disappointed."

"I liked it when she was looking at us, i've never seen an eye color like that before..."

The other merman sighed at his partner, flipping his tail impatiently on the rocks. It had been like this for over three days, Satoru insisting he watch this human he found and Suguru being dragged alongside. He'd always been interested in humans but never this intense curiosity was getting dangerous.

There was no garuntee the moment you saw one of them you wouldn't try to hurt and harvest them. (like in the stories he'd heard so much about ) Of course the second you intentions were revealed Suguru would rip you apart and drag your body so far in the ocean nobody would be able to find you.

Satoru didn't budge, he continued staring at your body, giddy for every stretch, and pull of muscle you made after tapping the box that sat in front of you.

"Okay, time to go. We've been here too long, someone may have spotted us by now."

Satoru pouted but graciously relented. "Fine, but tomorrow I wanna get closer."

Suguru scowled, "Any closer and you might loose a fin. We can watch from here, that's final, now lets go."

Satoru couldn't belive it, did Suguru somehow think he was the boss of bim? "Fuck off, I am getting closer and thats final." He could kiss his merman ass.

Thinking back on it now, they probably shouldn't have started a fight on the beach of where a human lived, that's their fault.

"Uhm, are you two okay?" a feminine voice called from behind them. They snapped their heads to where ut came from.

You, more beautiful up close were peering at the two mermans rolling around covered in sand with an almost empty look on your face. You didn't seem to care they were lacking the most essential things a human should have, that being legs and feet.

Satoru was the first to speak, pushing Suguru off him and quickly righting him self into a sitting position, ( which Suguru would have said looked very slutty if he could speak properly ) and replying back.

"Of course we are, are you? I saw you looked quite stresses over there, anything bothering you?"

You sighed and nodded, seemingly reminded of your previous dilemma. "Oh yeah, it's getting so hard make any good progress around here, the seas been so quiet."

"Progress? On what?" Satoru's tail flapped excitedly agaisnt the sand, you were so friendly and man that eye color sure was unique.

Sugur watched as the two of you made conversation, his jaw permanently glued to the floor, did you not see the huge flapping tails they both had or did you simply not care. Or maybe you were one of thoes humans whos screws didn't falls perfectly into place, either eay they needed to take this opportunity and get out of here.

"Wow, your teeth look so sharp." You were talking to him now and he snapped his mouth closed embarrassed.

"Yeah they have to be sharp so we can chew through humans like you." Suguru was being mean he'd admit you hadnt done anything to them but he and Satoru seriously need to get out of here.

"Really! That's fascinating, do you eat all parts of a human just some. Does our meat taste good? I've always wondered."

Satoru cackled as Suguru's jaw fell back open. You couldn't be serious.

They would soon find out, you were complaining serious.

"W-we, We don't eat humans." Suguru choked out.

You pouted, "Oh, well they what do you eat? I can't be anything tougher than a seal I'm sure?"

He was starstruck, not only did you guess right but you were completely unconcerned about their still flipping tails.

"Hey you know were mermans right?" Suguru blurted, stopping the cackling Satoru.

Your eyes comically slid from their faces to their tails. "Well, yes I guessed that pretty quickly. What do yiu take me for huh?"

And now you were offended he undermined your knowledge? What was happening right now? This felt like a dream.

Satoru resumed laughing, this time even harder.

You were completely serious.

note — hope you enjoyed part one to this lil series!

[hehehereliesmysanity]

Inseparable

Wille is at the vet for a routine check up for his dog and that's when he sees them. The curly haired handsome man and his little ball of fur. The cat doesn't look happy, though. He approaches them slowly but he doesn't know what he has to say.

"You look stressed," he greets the man with an emphatetic smile. "I am sure it is going to be okay."

The man is taken a back but mirrors Wille's kind smile. "I really hope so. She hasn’t been eating lately and I was worried. The test results came back and everything looked normal. They are trying to understand the situation." the stranger says, looking way more worried than he shows. He gently pets the little cat's head and she basks in all the attention and love she can get from her human. "Sorry," the handsome man cuts himself short after he starts telling him about all the symptoms that started. "You probably don't want to hear all about my drama."

"It is not drama if we are talking about your cat. It is basically your child and you are allowed to be worried." he tries to calm him down.

"Thank you." he smiles. He goes into the vet's office by sending a warm glance, and Wille didn't even get a name.

He leaves the clinic half an hour later, his dog in tow, everything alright with him. He wonders what happened to the man and his cat and looks around to see him but comes up with nothing. He, having nothing better to do, goes to the parking lot to go back home and sees the handsome man next to a car looking around as if he is looking for somebody. They make eye contact and they both start smiling. Was he looking for him?

He approaches them, the cat is his arms and she looks way more cheerful than earlier.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes," the man smiles so vibrantly. "She is even better than before."

"That's good. I am happy for you two."

"My name is Simon, by the way." Is Wille imagining things, or does the man look like like he is blushing?

"Wille."

"Nice to meet you, Wille."

"You too." he smiles back. What should he do? Should he ask to grab a coffee or something? "And what about this little one? What is her name?" Good start.

"Don't call her little. You don't want to get on her nerves." Simon chuckles.

"Can I pet her?"

"Go for it but she doesn't usually---" Simon cuts himself short again with his mouth hanging open, after Wille tries to pet her little and she stretches and purrs.

"You were saying?" Wille chuckles. He is good with animals usually. "I still don't know her name though."

Simon shakes his head and chuckles. "Jelly."

"Huh?"

"Her name is Jelly." Simon says matter-of-factly.

"Your cat's name is Jelly?" Wille asks, his voice is a little bit too high.

"Yes," Simon says unimpressed. "You got a problem with that?" he says, a little bit annoyed.

"No, God, no," Wille chuckles, "I was just surprised. My dog's name is Peanut Butter."

"Are you serious?" Simon asks, taken aback as well but his spiky mood is dissipating now, seeing where Wille is coming from.

"Yes," Wille breathes, relieved. He hasn't fucked this up. He still has a chance. He can still have that coffee or maybe ask for his number. Then he sees the corners of Simon's mouth turning up in mischievous way but doesn't understand. "Why are you grinning?"

"This is gonna be a really cute story when we tell people how we got together in the future."

"What?"

"Or when people ask about our pets' names and we will go Peanut Butter and Jelly. That is cute, isn't it?"

"What?" Wille is frozen and not functioning. Is this really happening?

"We will go 'We met after we named them. Separately.'

"Am I hallucinating right now?"

Simon chuckles. He chuckles unashamedly, not caring at all that Wille's heart is beating out of his ribcage, not knowing that he almost gives him a heart attack.

"Too much?" Simon asks more to himself than to him. "Too much. Maybe we should have dinner first."

"You are something else, Simon." he chuckles, but he is feeling his cheeks getting hot all over.

"8 p.m. tomorrow?"

"How about this evening?"

[dsireland86]

LOVE YOUR ONE SHOTS BESTIE

I have a lil request for another Noah one..

So like we all know that that man would 100 percent talk you through it right? 😭

So all im saying is best friend Noah.. Mut mastubate situation

🫣🫣

Sorry I live for the best friend Noah trope 🤪

Bestie🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶 I love best friend (with benefits.... hehehe) Noah, too!

Can I Talk You Through It?

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @potterheadquinn @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @montgomery-929494 @missduffsblog @lilcazy011 @Lonelydragonlady @Mattysbitchvic @athenexe @pipidoll @flowery-mess  @bloody-spades

The feeling is insatiable, an overwhelming need and hunger that can't be quenched on your own. You're trying, but something's missing. It feels good, and you've brought yourself to the edge plenty of times, but never has the stimulation taken you completely over.

"Y/N!"

Noah's voice up the stairs scares the crap out of you. Quickly, you sit up and search for your short, unable to find them fast enough before your bedroom door swings open.

"Y/N, what are you,"

You grab the nearest blanket and throw it over yourself, hoping it covers your secret.

"Shit! Noah!" "Oh! Sorry," he apologizes, but you know it's not authentic.

Hanging your head because you can't bear to look Noah in the face as you try to recover from almost giving yourself your first orgasm, you're afraid that your vulnerability can be seen and it's nerve racking.

"What's wrong?" he asks, letting go of the door handle and letting himself into the room. "Are you alright?"

You shake your head knowing your cheeks are blood red.

"What's wrong? What happened?" "Nothing," you mumble. "Then look at me," Noah begs, standing in front of you.

You don’t respond, let alone raise your head.

"Hey," he says, shaking you by the arm a little. "It's nothing. Just forget it."

When you finally raise your head and look up at Noah, you see the genuine concern on your best friend's face and give him a half smile.

"What did you need?"

Noah's brows crease in confusion, unwilling to drop the subject.

"Not until you tell me what's going on with you. You seem really flustered. Did something happen? Or not happen," he asks, his perfect lips forming into a soft smile.

You want to tell him, you really do, but you're way too embarrassed to.

"Um, yes and no, but it's fine. Really, forget it," you say, shaking your head slightly. "What, a, what are you, were you going to tell me? What were you yelling for me for?

"Alright. Fine, don't tell me."

Noah's scowl is so Noah, and it makes you giggle, and when he smiles at you, your heart starts racing and a familiar tingle warms you on the inside so well that you feel your wet arousal seep between your thighs.

"What?" "What," you shrug, trying to hide the shakiness of your voice. "Alright, something's seriously up with you! Spill it."

Noah has always been the observant type, never letting anything about you go unnoticed, so it shouldn't surprise you like it does that he knows something's up.

"No," you lightly laugh, shifting on the bed. "Nothing is going on. I'm just," but you hesitate, unsure of your next words. "Just what?"

You look up at Noah again, and the tingling feeling hits you again. 

"Fuck!" you curse, covering your face. "Okay, this is stupid. Get up and come with me. I need to show you something," Noah orders, grabbing your hand and almost pulling you off the bed.

You panic, remembering you’re not wearing anything under the blanket and pull away from his grasp, almost screaming the word “no”.

"What the hell, Y/N!"

Noah turns back and looks at you, eyes wide with surprise, as you fix the blanket over your lap.

"I can't come with you right now." "Why not?" "Because! I just can't, okay," your voice fades slowly as you look away.

Noah comes closer to you, so close that you can smell his cologne on the bright yellow hoodie he chose to wear today. The way his brow furrows as he looks around your sitting area tells you he's thinking hard about what's happening at the moment.

"Get up." "No," you scowl. "Why not? Get up," Noah orders, a small smirk forming in the corner of his mouth as he pulls on your arm again.

"Noah! Stop!" you yell, holding on to the blanket, but part of it falls when you accidentally step on it as you try not to fall, revealing most of your bare bottom.

Scrambling to gather the blanket, you fall back onto the bed once you do, absolutely traumatized by what just happened. You're too embarrassed to look up at Noah because you already know what he's just seen.

"Well, damn." "Noah, just don’t, okay," you say pathetically, shielding your face with your hand. "What? All I was going to say is you have a really nice ass. That's all."

At first, you think you didn't hear him correctly. Risking a glance, you find an amusing look on your best friend's face, and for a moment, your embarrassment simmers.

"What?"

Noah raises an eyebrow and smiles.

"I mean, I'm not gonna deny that I've never checked out your ass before, but seeing it with nothing covering it, damn," he chuckles, "yeah, it's pretty nice."

You stare him dead in the face and try not to laugh, knowing he's just doing what a good best friend would do.

"Oh, whatever," shaking your head. "Look, if you're not going to tell me what you wanted, then maybe..."

"Why aren’t you wearing any pants?"

You stop mid sentence at Noah's question.

"What?"

Noah reaches for the blanket, but you grab it tightly.

"Where's your pants and underwear, Y/N?" "I, um, they're..." but you can't find the right words to say.

Noah comes up to the side of the bed so that his waist is eye level with your face, forcing you to stare at what's directly in front of you until he lifts your face with his finger beneath your chin. A sudden burst of stimulation that you've never felt before hits the center of your sex and it almost feels as if you could reach the high you've been aching to feel right then. You feel your arousal gather between your folds as you clench your teeth together.

"Aww, you're blushing," Noah teases. "I Like that look on you."

The playful look on his almond shaped eyes has your core aching.

"Come on, tell me what's going on, Y/N. And don't say nothing is. I'm your best friend. I know you better than you think."

You try to look away, but Noah won't let you.

"It's stupid, really stupid. And it's not your problem, so I won't burden you with it." "It can't be that bad." "Oh, it is. Trust me. And it's really embarrassing, so yeah." "Okay, fine," Noah sighs, sitting down next to you, implying he has no interest in giving up the game. "If you won't tell me, then I'll guess."

Your heart hammers against your chest.

"Fine. Good luck," thinking he'll never get it right.

Noah's big hand touches the side of your face, his tattooed touch sending chills throughout your entire body as he turns your head to face him. His long thumb, calloused on the pad, caresses your cheekbone as he looks from your eyes to your lips to your lap, then back up to your eyes again. The tip of his tongue sticks out between his thin, moistening them perfectly.

"You were trying to make yourself have an orgasm, weren't you?"

Your heart plummets to the pit of your stomach. How did he know? And why is he looking at you like that? The slight twinkle you see shows Noah's amusement, making you more nervous than before.

"Oh god, no," you shake your head, pulling away from the grip Noah has on you, "shit, no, it's not what you think. I, uh," but your denial comes out all shaky, and now you're even more confused than before

"Y/N," "Look, Noah, I think, uh, you should go," "Y/N," "I need a second to clear," "Y/N!"

You stop speaking and look up at Noah, fighting back the urge to cry. The small grin you see settles your stomach slightly, but you still feel like you're about to pass out from all the embarrassment you feel.

"What?" "It's okay," Noah says softly, reaching over and caressing the side of your face. "What?"

Noah laughs softly.

"It's fine. It's a normal thing to do." "No," you disagree, shaking your head. "No?" Noah asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "No, not for me, it's not." "What do you mean?"

You wipe away the single tear that manages to slip out and lower your face in shame.

"Come on. It's me, Y/N; your best friend. You can tell me," Noah encourages.

Sniffing and clearing your throat, you try to make your thoughts make sense.

"I, uh... I can't."

"You can't. You can't what?" Noah asks gently, laying his hand on your leg that's covered beneath the blanket.

"I mean, I can't make myself have an orgasm," you confess, twirling your fingers.

"Seriously? Like ever?"

The genuine surprise you hear in Noah's tone only makes you feel worse, and you start to cry out of pure humiliation.

"Yes, seriously! I've tried so many freaking times, and I just can't, and it's frustrating as hell!"

You're trying not to yell "at" Noah, but you're just done at this point, wanting to hide under a rock for the rest of your life.

"Okay, easy, killer. It was just a rhetorical question," Noah kids, earning him a slap in the chest.

"God, this is so fucking embarrassing," you cry in frustration sniffling and wiping your eyes with your hands. "Hey, relax, it's not that big of a deal," Noah urges, caressing your back.

His touch sparks every fire burning inside you, and you're not sure if it's his touch alone that's doing it or if it's just the unquenchable need you have at the moment.

"Easy for you to say. Guys can just whip it out and do their thing and be completely satisfied in just a few minutes. I've been trying this for months now, ever since the last time I had...," but your voice drops, realizing what you were about to confess.

"Since what," Noah asks softly, moving closer to you.

With his one hand still on your lower back, he reaches over with his other and slips it inside yours, threading your fingers together. You swear your ovaries explode inside you from the feeling and how Noah has nestled up beside you as if wanting to be as close to you as possible.

"Noah?" you whisper as his lips come down softly on your forehead and leave a small kiss behind. "Since when, Y/N? Since the last time you had sex with that shitty ass boyfriend of yours?" "Ex-boyfriend," you correct Noah after clearing your throat. "Whatever. The point is that it was four months ago. You're telling me that was the last time you had an orgasm?"

You groan, dropping your head into your hands again.

"Hey, look at me," Noah orders, pulling your shoulders back and lifting your head so he can see you.

Noah's eyes are full of so much emotion that it's hard to read them all. But you see the small little half smile that brushes across his lips briefly as his thumb strokes the skin of your cheek.

"Can I talk you through it?" "Huh? What?"

Noah continues to stare at you, his face expressionless.

"Talk me through what, Noah?"

But you feel like you might already know the answer to the question.

"Let me talk you through making yourself cum," he suggests, his face dead serious.

At first, you can't say anything because you don't know what to say, but the longer you look at Noah, the more you know he's serious. You swallow hard, closing your eyes for a moment then opening them again.

"Why?" you whisper. "Because you deserve to feel amazing."

It's the little smirk at the end of his words that does it for you.

"Alright, fine," you agree before you lose your courage. "Good answer," Noah says approvingly, getting up to close the door and lock it.

You're so nervous you think you might get sick, so you start breathing quickly, in and out through your nose then your mouth.

"Hey it's alright. You keep breathing like that, you might end up hyperventilating. This is meant to feel good, alright? Lay down. Relax,” Noah urges, caressing your hair before helping you lay back into your pillows.

Your eyes meet and you can see the genuine care for you that you've always seen in his and it eases your mind a little.

"Are you sure about this, Noah? Isn't this weird? Friends don't usually do this kind of thing with each other and, I mean, isn't this going to change stuff between us now? I'm not sure if I'm ready for my heart to go through..."

You're silenced by the weight of Noah's lips on yours. At first the kiss is hard and dry, one that you would deem a typical friend on friend kiss. But then Noah breaths in and opens his mouth, leaning in closer to you as you follow his lead as if by some magnetic force. His tongue slips slowly into your mouth and you allow him access, returning his touch as if it's the most natural thing to you in the world. Your hands slither around his neck as he finds the small of your back and pulls you up closer to him, allowing the blanket to slip from off your lap. Noah pulls back and looks at you, his usually soft brown eyes, now darker, and for a moment the two of you just stare, wondering what the other is thinking, before realizing what's just happened.

"But we're friends," you remind Noah. "I think we've been past the point of friends for a while now, Y/N," Noah confesses. "Ever since the night your shitty ex broke up with you and you kissed me right here on your bedroom carpet," he grins, looking down at the spot below his feet.

Noah's right. You've known it all along, and it's the reason why pleasuring yourself has been so difficult.

"Now, relax, and let me talk you through this, okay." "Okay."

Finding a spot where you're finally comfortable, Noah tells you to close your eyes. As you do, he helps you bend your legs until your feet are flat against the mattress.

"This is only going to work if you relax and keep your eyes closed." "Alright." "Do you trust me?"

A warm smile spreads across your lips, making Noah's heart flutter.

"Yes, Noah, I trust you." "Can I touch you?"

You want to open your eyes, but know this will all work better if you don't. Noah is trying to help after all.

"Yes. You can touch me."

Noah places his hands on your knees and tells you to let them fall open. You hesitate, naturally, but then you do and hear the quick intake of breath that comes from him and the quiet curse that slips through his lips. It makes you giggle a little.

"You're beautiful," Noah whispers and for a moment it feels like the world stops spinning. "Thank you," you manage to say through a crack in your voice.

He takes your hand and brings it your sex, placing your fingers over your center.

"The first thing you should do is visualize; a scenario, a place... a person," Noah begins.

You grin and clear your throat, shifting slightly.

"Once you've done that, you're going to ease the tip of your finger in between your folds, just like that, and back out to produce some wetness. Good. Now each time, go in a little further, a little deeper," he coaches gently.

Using your middle finger, you follow Noah's instructions, already feeling your arousal building from the vision inside your head, coating your fingers.

"Now, when you're ready," he adds, gently taking you by the wrist as you pull your finger out, "add another finger," lining up your pointer finger next to your middle and guiding your hand back to your center.

Slowly, you slide them inside you, feeling the tightness and pressure yet because of the vision you have playing out in your head, all you can feel is what your imagination is telling you. It's powerful enough to make you moan softly, yet not enough to get the reaction that you're needing.

"You need to do this a few times," Noah encourages, placing his hand around your wrist, pushing and pulling with you as you move your fingers in and out of yourself.

The whimpers come and fall like quiet little prayers. But it's still not enough.

"Alright, finally, you need the stimulation. Bring your other hand," he says, taking it and placing it where he thinks it belongs, "and place it right there on your pretty little clit. Perfect. Now, massage gently in small slow circles as you continue doing what you're doing with your other fingers. That's it. How does that feel?"

You're completely breathless, unable to process the feeling that's quickly building inside you. The fire in your lower abdomen is one you haven't felt in so long and the feeling is incredible. You moan, bite your bottom lip, arch your back and just when you thought you'd never be able to, you reach your climax as your much needed orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave. Once it's over, you lay back against your sheets, breathless and with a pound heart.

"Well, how was it?"

When you open your eyes you aren't quite sure what you expect to see, but when you meet Noah's eyes, and you see the spark in them that you do, it makes the stimulation you just felt a million times more wonderful.

"It was euphoric," you grin, following it with the cutest little giggle Noah's ever heard. "You're really adorable you know that," he says, running his finger down your cheek after he hands you your shorts and panties. "Hmm, really?" "Really." "And dare I ask how it was watching on your end?" you ask timidly, hoping you haven't overstepped.

Noah pauses to think and then smiles.

"Euphoric," he answers right before tackling you and engaging in one of his infamous Noah tickle fights.

Some things really never do change.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How do you think Dante, Vergil and Nero would react to their human S/O feeling like they don't deserve them? Like they think they could do better than a human like them. Even though their boy is Half/part human? And even voice that opinion?

Dante

feels saddened that you felt as though you weren't enough for him all in due to being human, something that you thought was holding him back from looking for something better; but what you didn't know is that you ARE that something better for Dante and he wasn't about to let you continue thinking like this any longer.

He absolutely refuses to allow this to continue.

'babe i'm a half demon, i'm no way any better off without you nor your heart that did nothing but love me no matter what.' Dante started as he holds you in his arms, caressing your back and tracing patterns into it as you cling onto him as though you were scared to let go.

'i still think you deserve better then me, i'm no hunter and can't keep up with you half the time and i can't help but feel as though you need someone who can keep up, someone who can match you in every aspect possible instead of someone who worries if your okay and feels helpless in general when i don't know how to defend myself.' you replied, burrowing your face futher into his chest as you felt the waves of hurt wash over you as you spoke what you felt was the truth.

what was the point of someone like dante being with someone like you if your always going to be hiding behind him when someone slightly threating came across your line of sight, whereas if it was anyone else would stand tall and stand their ground perfectly on their own.

Dante frowns. 'i don't need someone to keep up with me, i need someone to slow me down, i need someone to worry me into worrying about myself and making sure that i can make sure i come home to you safe.' He pinches your side slighlty, making you jolt and look at him as he smiled when he had your attention all on him, showing off his canines.

‘I need someone who will make me take care of myself, recognise that while I’m part demon, but I’m also part human and that part needs protecting more so from my reckless behaviour as much as it does from other demons hellbent on killing me. I need someone who can tell the emotions on my face as easily as though it’s a book and know what I need without words. I need you sweetheart, no one else will do and never will when they have you to unfairly live up to.’ He admits to you in a tone so serious that it made you pay attention to his every word as though it was gospel.

‘You understand?’ He asks you upon noticing your prolonged silence, kissing your cheek when you made a hum of agreement that you had indeed heard and understood his words that had left his mouth. ‘You understand your worth everything to me because I fear of who I’d become if I ever lost you, forever the one person who had only stayed by my side even when they knew how dangerous it would be, and yet they dared to laugh in the face of fate and tell them that you weren’t moving anywhere.’ He adds as he tightened his hold on you out of instinct.

‘Is that really how you see me?’ You inquired.

‘I see you as so much more sweetheart but there aren’t enough words to describe just how much you complete me and make me feel at home like the one I’ve lost a long time ago.’ Dante answered truthfully to your question as you stayed within the other’s arms and sharing whispers of sweet nothings for the duration of the day.

Vergil

He feels as though he might be partically to blame for this mindset of yours with how much he berated humanity as a whole, despite the fact that he himself was half human. Vergil felt as though he had planted the seeds of doudt and insecurity within your head to fester and grow, even under his watchful eyes, as you continue to wonder what was the point in staying with someone who was so vocal with his distain towards anything and all things human.

This was something Vergil felt as though he needed to rectify immeditetly before he lost it all...again.

'i am not in any way deserving more then you,' He begins as he holds your hands within his own, 'if anything you are far more deserving then the likes of me, for you embrace and accept what i cannot anf for that, you posess a strength that i can only fathom the origins of and you smile and stand strong even when you're at your weakest. That is the you that i admire my little dove.'

you frowned. 'what about the moments where i'm not? where im more human then i've ever been, am i still strong or far too human for you to handle?' you asked of him and Vergil clenched his jaw, furrowing his brows as though he was looking for the awnser, but in reality Vergil had the awnser within him and it had been there for a very long time and it had been waiting for this very momwnt to come out.

'even when you're 'more human' as you put it, you are still embracing that side of you that i have long since casted aside, you are not shunning away what makes you you. You are fully aware that you human and yet the feets you have acomplished made you feel bigger than with simple acts of kindness, with th way your gentleness touches eveything and everyone in your presence.' Vergil squeezes your hands reassuringly, 'It's a blessing to be able to bear witness to you smiling and cooing at a cat you seen down the street, it's a blessing to see you cry over a movie and it's even more of a blessing in knowing that i am the one you trust to be vulnerable infront of.' Vergil then rests his forhead agaisnt yours so you could only looked into the icy blue eyes of his that looked at you with a fondeness.

'So don't ever be ashamed of being human, especially not infront of me becuase it was you being human towards me that was the reason i wished for you to be mine, and i wouldn't want you to be anything but human.' he kisses your nose, an act that made you smile, 'So don't you dare change for a foolish half demon like me, when you being human helps me embrace my own humanity alongside you, help me learn to be okay with being human alongside you is the greastest honour of my life after being in darkness for so long.' He steals a kiss from your lips.

'so thank you for being the light that guided me out of the dark.'

Nero

Hates that your putting yourself down becuase you felt as though you couldn't live up to his expectations soely for the fact that you were human, when in reality you were everything he could ever hope for in his entire life.

'where did this come from?' he asks.

you shrug. 'does it matter? it doesn't change the fact that i'm just a stupid human and that you deserve more then something so plain and dull.' you tell him and Nero was quick to hut his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look him in his face that was filled with determination.

'it does matter becuase you're talking about my person, my favourite person alive who is nothing short of perfect, nothing short of being my reason of never stepping over a line that would lead me down a life similar to my father's.' Nero's face harded at the mention of Vergil, but relaxed to look at you with a soft smile and fond eyes. 'you're talking down someone who had stepped in moments where i seemed to be lossing myself, when i seemed too close to abandoning everything i cared deeply about and kept me grounded for a long, long time.’ He finished.

You smiled a little. ‘You’re naturally hot headed and hard headed as well that talking to you in the same tone wouldn’t work, you needed to be talked to neutrally and calmly in hopes you’d see reason in my words. You needed someone to talk to you who had wholehearted faith in you even if the situation seems dire and bleak.’ You replied and Nero was predictably beaming.

‘See! That’s what you are to me and I don’t want you to be anything other than that person who makes me see straight, the person who has been nothing but loving and supportive in allowing me to be me without looking at me any differently and defending me when others couldn’t see past their own biases.’ He tells you as he pepper kisses across your face, making you laugh in response as you found yourself unable to escape his loving grasp and comforting warmth, not that you ever wanted to in the first place.

‘You empower me.’ Nero tells you after bombarding you with kisses, resting his head against yours, just happy and content to have you in his arms like this for the rest of his life if he was allowed such a thing to be his actual reality. ‘You stop me when I get ahead of myself but believe in me enough to let me weigh out my options during missions, never expecting me to be perfect but never allowing me to put myself down. So why wouldn’t you think I wouldn’t do the same for you?’ He then asks you.

‘I don’t want you to worry about me-‘ you tired to say but were cut off.

‘I’ll always worry.’ He retorts.

‘I didn’t think I was worth picking back up after putting myself down.’ You said as though trying to prove a point.

‘I’d never let you stay down for long, besides your deserving of being uplifted as much as I am, if not more, but just know that without you I’d struggle and be content in something that could never fulfill me in the long run like you can.’ Nero replied, kissing your eyelids and cheeks as he bundled you up against him. ‘So I don’t ever want you to downplay your effect on me because you’re human when you have done more for me than another human would be half as inclined to do tenfold.’

[and-so-he-rambled]

Minecraft is a FOUND FAMILY movie and you can’t change my mind!

Writing my fic has made me love all the goobers so much.

Natalie is trying her fucking best, she’s had the world on her shoulders all her life but that doesn’t matter because she’ll gladly hold up the world to keep her brother safe.

Dawn and her have girl time and bitch about their jobs, and while she’ll never have another mom, it’s nice to have an ‘aunt’ who cares about her and reminds her to breathe now and then. She’s just a baby, she’s so young and trying to do everything by herself, and now she has a village who loves her and lets her be small sometimes.

Henry is a prodigy disaster child who suddenly has two dads he didn’t ask for, he’s too smart for social cues and too cool for school 😎 (this bitch has perfect grades)

He gets too in his head constantly and it’s everyone’s job to make sure he eats and doesn’t make dangerous inventions (Garrett and Steve have repeatedly gotten in trouble for assisting in said inventions) He sometimes stays with Garrett and Steve so Nat can just have a break for a bit, and he’s too much of a teenager to admit he likes it.

Dawn, my sweet angel. This woman loves these kids and the two idiots that came with them. Garrett is her new little brother and they fight like siblings, but love each other like siblings too. She reminds him he’s allowed to be human, he reminds her she’s allowed to be herself. Steve’s her friend, and she loves him, but he’s the most likely to be sacrificed in the event of an emergency and he’s okay with that.

Dawn is the group auntie. She and Nat will always beat the drum of therapy even if they can’t actually tell any therapist the truth, and she watches her stupid little ducklings with pride. She’s always had a weakness for strays.

Steve didn’t have family before them. He had his parents, but they died long before he ever decided to leave the world behind, and him having no family was what made leaving so easy.

But this family he found, that he built, he left the game for them! He loves them! They make the real world bearable. He loves those kids like they were his own, loves Dawn, and loves his GarGar a little too much. He’s fully aware of his feelings and doesn’t really plan to do anything about it, much to the frustration of the other three.

And Garrett, my pookie. He’s emotionally constipated, hides under a hero complex even he knows is fake, and tries to cover up the mistakes than make him human because he hates feeling things. He bottles things up until they explode and then hates himself for getting to that point. He’s a sopping wet opossum and I want to kiss his lil head.

Dawn is the most in tune with Garrett’s bad habits. Steve has a problem with letting Garrett have space to his own detriment, and Dawn is often the one to snap at him to get involved because Steve is the only one Garrett fucking listens to when he’s struggling. Garrett is fully not aware of what his feelings mean and writes them off as having a best friend, something he’d never really had before.

I love them. I love them I want to chew on them like erasers, these are my babies and no one can take them from me.

[tryandbehappy]

Not Everyone Has to Be a Revolutionary (and Why That’s Okay Especially for Nick)

I need to scream this from the rooftops because people are seriously losing the plot. I’m so fucking tired to read this. That he’s a nazi and we all missed the signs ugh

Why does everyone expect Nick to be the main, active revolutionary? Why does he have to sacrifice himself for the greater good to prove he’s “a good man”?

HE DOESN’T. And that’s not a flaw, it’s literally what makes him beautifully human.

Look at the characters who are fighting Gilead:

• June is burning with rage. She lost her daughter. She was raped and tortured. Everything was stolen from her. In Gilead, she still has friends like Janine and wants to free them. Also, she comes from a mother who was an activist, she grew up around protests and was part of them from a young age. Her core values are rights and freedom. Of course she’s fighting.

• Luke lost his wife and child. Hannah is still there. He was left powerless. His whole identity collapsed, he wants revenge. (Also he wants to prove June that he is worth something because he feels she doesn’t love him the way she used to😏)

• Moira was enslaved, dehumanized. She has every reason to fight with everything she has.

And others.They are fueled by personal trauma. Their war is personal.

And Nick?He’s not driven by revenge, because Gilead didn’t destroy him the way it destroyed others. That doesn’t mean he supports it, he’s just not a soldier in someone else’s war.

He doesn’t trust politicians. He doesn’t want to be someone’s pawn (he is so sick of it because once he trusted them “once you get in bed with the government it’s not so easy to get out). He fights for love, not ideology.

And his greatest strength?

LOVE.LOYALTY.SACRIFICE FOR ONE PERSON.

He saved June over and over.He broke rules.He risked his life.He was ready to run away to live a quiet life with her. (Even though it’s really risky for him because he’s a commander after all, a war criminal)

That is also powerful.

And guess what? June believes in love too. She btw values it the most. She’s the one who said:

“People die from lack of love.”

Telling Fred that love is worth living

“You grab love wherever you will find it” etc

She is grateful to Nick for exactly that. For keeping her alive when she was drowning. Only love saved her. “He helped me to survive” ♥️

And now people wanna cancel him because he’s not on the frontlines with a machine gun? (Or on the wall 😀) just for some women or ideology?? Because he values a single life, June’s, more than the idea of a revolution?

Are you kidding me???

That’s not weakness.That’s just a different kind of strength.

Reality check:

Only about 5% of people in real revolutions actually fight on the frontlines. (Thanks, historians like Charles Tilly & Eric Hobsbawm.) The other 95%? They resist in small ways.

I get it. The Handmaid’s Tale is a story mainly about revolution. It’s about resistance, fighting the system, burning it down.

But not everyone in this world wants to grab a gun and start a war. Some people like Rita or Nick are just trying to survive. And help their family. (Why everyone is ok with Rita but for Nick it’s different?)

And that’s not weakness. That’s realistic and human.

Nick is the guy who risks everything not for politics and power, but for love.

Honestly, I think what Nick really lacks is focus because he loves June too much. He’s so scared of losing her, of something happening to her, of her dying…(“she’s not coming back to you. - I know, i just want her to stay alive 🥹)

And her obsession with revolution? It only makes that fear worse. He’s not thinking straight, he’s spiraling, because everything in his world revolves around her.

He shouldn’t be punished for loving her more than he hates the system.

[sambhavami]

Hello! 💕

I wanna say, your mahabharata posts are amazing and very informative!

If you don't mind, can you tell me about how krishna in mb is different from how he is generally perceived by people? (Yk like in a fanon vs canon way)

or any interesting points or facts you noted about him!

No pressure tho!

Thank you<3

Hi Anon, thank you soo much! <3

Okay, this is an expansive question. Researchers have dedicated their entire lives to this! xD

But I will try to note the points I remember off the top of my head, that I have read in one book or the other. :) If you want more, do let me know, I'll do some research and get back to you! <3

Please note, however, again, these are the most dramatic stuff I have read in multiple places, I agree with most of it, but not all, please feel free to check with me on that if you'd like any clarification on any part <3

Krishna’s peacock feather is not usually tucked in upright like it is shown in usual depictions. It is rather braided into his hair. This is a common practice with the gopa kids, who are not permitted to own any metal (hence, no real jewellery). They also make other jewellery out of flowers and anklets out of Kadamba seeds etc.

Flute is a common instrument of the gopas, along with siren-type calling instruments and large drums. Krishna and Balarama were equally good flautists. Once they left Vrindavana, Balarama actually keeps up with the flute, while Krishna more or less gives it up.

Human-Krishna is mostly given preference over God-Krishna in most parts of Mahabharata, making the God-parts kinda awkward in terms of flow and placement.

Krishna is classified by Western researchers as a ‘solar hero’ who, as a group, are usually half- or fully- divine and are characterized by a life-altering threat near the time of their birth and are beloved by many women over their lifetime.

Now, on to Krishna’s childhood. Here, I am mostly quoting what Dr. N P Bhaduri quotes and infers from Harivamsha, Bala-charita, and Gaha-sattasai etc:

The aahira/gopa communities in Mathura’s herding regions were considered ‘slaves’ of Mathura-city. They were tasked with livestock management and agriculture and were usually punished if there was any lapse (hence, the seemingly disproportionate reactions from the gopis when Krishna stole butter; they’d have to pay for it, often through physical punishments because they weren’t permitted to own any currency).

They were usually not permitted to enter or leave the vraja area unless given special leave from the government.

During the Gupta era too (and we are extrapolating this to the MB times), these communities were mandated to wear an identifying ‘uniform’ which consisted of clothes only in the colours yellow/blue (remember Krishna and Balarama/Radha’s defaults…there’s a reason it worked out like that).

This is the reason why Krishna is anxious enough to k*ll Kamsa’s washerman to get ‘other’ clothes, because no one would take him seriously while he wore ‘gopa-coloured-clothing’, and find flowers to put on his wrist and as garlands...to blend in with the city's young, nalayak men essentially. After this we see that for a long time Krishna actually stops wearing yellow clothes even though that’s his favourite colour, preferring white/beige tones. He only resumes wearing yellow some time around his marriage to Rukmini, when he literally no longer cares what people think about him (i.e. he is powerful enough to afford that luxury).

So, half of the reason why Krishna is so revolutionary and frankly anti-veda in his personal philosophy is that he lived through the worst discrimination that his Yadava society had to offer. Also, this forms the reason why he loses faith in the democracy-oligarchy system and chooses to back a ‘benevolent-dictator’ in the form of Yudhishthira instead.

Kubja runs a lady-of-the-night-adjacent thing, is pretty close to Kamsa, and Krishna uses her (with consent) as a rebound to get over [not really, but kind of] Radha before pursuing more political issues. To do this he takes Uddhava with his (no one would believe Udhhava would go to a lady-of-the-night place, and therefore no one would suspect Krishna of that either). Udhhava has one of the worst nights of his life when Krishna disappears with Kubja, and the rest of the women focus their full attention on the sada-single poor Udhhava.

The houses they lived in were also considered government property. Apparently, there’s one scene in some Sanskrit drama which is similar to that movie RRR (note, I have not watched it): where the one officer-type hero is whipping the rebel-type hero…only in this play that scene plays out with Vasudeva and Nanda. Later, when Nanda is trying to say goodbye to his stillborn daughter (not Yogamaya in this version), and Vasudeva is saying sorry for the whipping incident and trying to convince him to take Krishna home instead we have this dialogue from Nanda: “I do not even own the utensils in my so-called house, and you ask this big a favour of me!”

Some versions hint that ‘marriage’ was also not allowed/recognized by the government within this community, so people mostly didn’t bother with mono -gamous/-androus ‘loyalty’ (seems to have become a positive continuation for Krishna with his many wives, and a negative continuation with Balarama who marries Revati and then says no thanks). However, many couples like Nanda-Yashoda still stayed together out of their personal levels of love.

Every full-moon night, the villagers gathered to drink madhhvi, sidhhi and kadambari variants of liquor, and dance away the night around a bonfire (the sanitised version of this becomes the rasa-leela). This used to be called a hallisaka (from where comes the hindi word ‘halla’). Krishna and Balarama, and their parents, girlfriends etc. are all part of these merrymaking sessions.

Krishna, while chased by many women, still chooses to stay somewhat unattached, being goofy, and dancing in the women’s line just to entertain older men who have lost their partners. There are hints of a ‘special woman’, although Radha is never mentioned by name (imagine being a character so strong that you haunt the narrative created before you were introduced).

Balarama in this version is the first and not the seventh child, and he is born almost 7-8 years before Krishna. Rohini had been pregnant when she had fled to Gokula.

Kaliya naga is a man, just a guy from one of the Naga tribes, who Krishna k*lls in a wrestling match, very much on land. After this incident, Krishna and Balarama actually obtain special permission to travel all around the Mathura kingdom, and ensure no one else is defying Yadava authority like Kaliya, and they return home only after several months, right before the Govardhana incident.

After the Govardhana thing, the villagers corner him and pretty much make him confess that he is Vasudeva's kid (despite Krishna begging them not to, since he hadn't yet tied up all the strings to his liking), unfortunately within the earshot of some soldiers of Kamsa who immediately go and report, leading to Kamsa sending Akroora to arrest the boys, one day after the sharad-poornima hallisaka (one night after rasa-leela basically).

Vasudeva and Devaki are not imprisoned but merely under house-arrest, and Kamsa even invites Vasudeva to the first and last parliamentary sabha that he bothers to call.

When he is networking to kill Kamsa, Krishna somehow arranges for Kamsa’s daughter Sutanu to be married to Akroora. This, imo, was a necessary and yet terrible move since Akroora is known to like young (and I mean, really young) girls. We see this in his obsession with Satyabhama later as well. This Sutanu-Ugraseni lady is practically sacrificed at the altar of this coup.

Jarasandha, with whose help Kamsa (who arguably has his own tragic backstory) is able to ascend to the throne, becomes horrified with Kamsa’s baby-k*lling ways and withdraws his army from Mathura at the last moment to give Krishna a wide berth and an easy access to him.

Krishna and Balarama have to run around South India for many years after k*lling Kamsa and before Dwarika is rendered habitable because they do not wish to confront Jarasandha in battle (since most of the parliament of Mathura was against the war and would not cooperate with the brothers, making this a s*icide mission).

During this time, Balarama develops an alcohol problem, which to our knowledge he is not able to shake off for the rest of his life. Somewhere in the Gomantaka hill range, he also meets a local woman, described as the personification of the wine Kadambari (maybe the lady who got him hooked on the stuff for good, not that I am letting him off the hook for not seeking proper help). She gifted him a pair of diamond-stud earrings, one piece of which he lost in a drunken stupor, post which he was never able to find the lady, who seemingly ran away. As a mark of remembrance Balarama wears only that one earring, in his right ear for the rest of his life.

One of the rare times that Krishna loses patience and makes arguably a wrong decision is when he murders Shatadhanva over the syamantaka mess before interrogating him.

This incident leads to a falling out b/w Krishna and Balarama, a rift that never really heals after that since Balarama pretty much moves back to Vrindavana and refuses to talk to Krishna unless scolding him for something. He does visit on and off during festivals and family functions.

Paundraka Vaasudeva had a genuine claim to the title of Vaasudeva, and was willing to work with Krishna for a roughly passing-the-baton kind of ceremony but Krishna gets tired of waiting and k*lls him just to make things easier on himself.

Krishna burnt down the city of Kashi, with all citizens and temples, just to send a message, after getting Jarasandha k*lled.

Krishna is a shishya of Ghora-Angirasa, but that’s more important in a Jain-side story, but he does repeat some philosophical points attributed to that guy.

When Arjuna was around Krishna would literally lose all sense of propriety and personal space. From being overtly touchy-feely, to making Arjuna sit on his lap in public and making off-colour jokes in front of friends and family…we see a glimpse of what Krishna’s true personality is when he lets his guard down. Now, as to Krishna-Arjuna romantic pairing, I personally believe it, but Dr. Bhaduri doesn’t, so please don’t quote him on it.

The touchy-feely thing however, is partially also due to the fact that such kinds of physical contact were normal among the aahir-gopa community, so half the time Krishna genuinely doesn’t realize that he’s doing something that could be interpreted in some other way and Arjuna’s usually off blushing.

Krishna did not curse Samba, he merely pointed out early signs of HIV, which Samba took as a curse and ran with it.

Gandhari never cursed Krishna after Kurukshetra. She tried to. She started with, “Your friends and family will kill one another.” And Krishna just went, “Yeah, I know, they’re embarrassing.” And they moved on.