#y’all have no idea how hard we manifested this

[ma-lark-ey]

when you get 666 points in the championship

[konniesreality]

There is always two sides to a coin and you’re choosing tails.

(void state post)

you are victimizing yourself. whether you like it, or not. You complain that you can’t enter the void, you whine and cry and you send thousands of asks to bloggers for help. stop victimizing yourself and expect something magical to help you get into the void. Do the inner work.

okay, i seriously have no idea how many times i have to repeat this. i have been repeatedly saying this so many times, yet it goes in one ear and out the other. please, for the love of everything divinely possible, stop over complicating the void state!

It is NOT HARD. You make it seem hard because that is YOUR ASSUMPTION! And I know that you are tired of hearing that, but this applies to everything in life. We are always manifesting unconsciously and consciously, and there is nothing we can do about it. How do you expect to get into the void if you keep telling yourself that you can’t?

it makes absolutely no sense. Do a method that is comfortable for you. Don’t do things because other people are doing it. If you don’t like a method, or a certain position, then do the void state how you want to! You like yoga nidra? Perfect. Do that then. But you don’t like affirming “I am in the void state” while doing the lullaby method? Okay. Just affirm “broccoli” and boom you are in the void. Why? Because you assumed it would work for you.

I get countless asks of people saying things like, “I worked on my self concept, but I didn’t enter the void state” NO SH*T SHERLOCK!! That’s what you told yourself!! I’m sure if you were actually a void master, you wouldn’t come into peoples asks complaining that YOU CANT DO IT!!

the void state is genuinely easy. It’s you. And it can be achieved so easily if you would persist and tell yourself it’s easy. so many of the success stories you see are people doing this thing: finding what works for them.

here is the thing: you can do it. You are just telling yourself that you cant. The biggest reason you guys aren’t entering the void, is your lack of persistence.

going back to the title, you could have been ONE second away from entering the void, but you complained like usual and rolled over. You guys aren’t focusing on the void state while attempting. You’re focusing on your body, symptoms, “am I doing this right, ugh my body hurts, did I choose the right subliminal” LIKE NO!! That’s why you aren’t entering the void like cmon now. Isn’t this obvious?!

focus on the black behind your eyes and relax. focus on your affirmations or whatever you’re doing. think about you getting your dream life, and use that happiness to persist in the void state. find what works for you. stop complaining and going into mine and bloggers asks complaining the void doesn’t work for you.

going back to the title, there are 2 sides to a coin. And you guys are choosing tails. instead of “I’m tired and don’t wanna affirm anymore” say “I’m so happy I’m in the void, my dream life is here!”

stop being a victim in your own reality and step it up!! I hope this post gave you a wake up call and reality check because oh boy, y’all need it.

[inlovewithpandora]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers Of Pandora ᝰ Day 2 - One Bed

Artists — Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya!reader

Lyrics — You and Neteyam spend the night together on an overnight hunting trip and while you’re trying to sleep the mighty warrior can’t keep his body under control

Music Advisory — nsfw content (18+), porn w/ little plot, aged!up Neteyam, suggestive/allusions to sex, best friends trope, one bed trope ᝰ this fic does contain aged!up character smut so if you don’t like that type of content please don’t interact and continue scrolling!!

Duration — 767 words

Index — pänutìng - promise • ftang - stop

Words From Artist — This is my first writing smut for Neteyam and it was fun writing it! Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list

“Neteyam, move over. You’re all over me.” The agitation in your voice is clear while you try to scoot over, trying to give yourself more space so you can get comfortable and finally get some rest.

“If you haven’t noticed this bed wasn’t created for two people.” He replies with a groan while trying to keep his body from slipping off the edge of the bed.

“Fine, just turn on your side or something. It’ll give us a little more room.” You whisper through a yawn while flipping on your side, turning your back towards him and pulling the woven blanket that you and Neteyam are sharing over your body.

Neteyam has a feeling that this idea isn’t a good one but he wants to keep you happy and doesn’t want to put up a fight since it’s so late and you both are tired from the hunting trip today. “Uhm, okay.” He turns on his side, the side that’s facing your back, the side that gives him the perfect few of your beautiful ass and round hips. While Neteyam tries to focus on anything other than your body he notices you scooting back, making a low hiss fall from his lips. “W-Wait, y/n.” He says hesitantly while shifting his hips back, hoping you stay still.

“Stop poking me Neteyam, it’s too late at night to be playing around.” You wiggle around a little, trying to find the perfect position and get comfortable.

“I’m not, I pänutìng.” He breathes heavily while placing a hand on your hip, trying to calm your movements down. “ftang moving around so much, you’re making it worse.”

“Making what worse?” You ask in a confused tone, not understanding what Neteyam is talking about. Once you turn around to see face Neteyam you see his face all flushed, his normally blue cheeks gaining a purple hue, making you wonder what that could be about. “Neteyam, how many times do I have to ask you to stop-” You place your hand where you feel the poking in your back, wanting to grab whatever hard thing is giving you discomfort, but what you feel against your palm isn’t what you assumed it was going to be. When you realize it’s Neteyam’s hardened cock in your hand your eyes bulge open, not expecting to feel your best friend's length tonight.

At first you don’t know how to react to what’s going on but you can’t help but feel a sense of warmth spread through your core when it registers that you caused Neteyam to become erect. You’ve always had a crush on him but you never knew he felt the same, now you finally have your answer. Since his feelings are clear and you’ve always fantasized about pleasing Neteyam, why not take this opportunity and give him a nice little handjob and help him achieve the sexual release his body is clearly asking for.

“y/n…” He mutters out while looking down at your hand grasping his cock, feeling it throb the more he thinks about you touching him because he’s always wanted this moment to manifest he just didn’t think this is how it would happen. He doesn’t want to seem weird for enjoying this lovely accident that you both stumbled upon but he can’t help it. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t- you shouldn’t do this…”

“Why not? I just want to help out my best friend, it’s the least I can do after causing it.” Your fingers work their magic to untie the strings that hold his loincloth together and once they unravel you lay eyes on his cock, swollen and veiny with droplets of his pre-cum already making an appearance. Your thumb gently swipes over his leaking tip, teasing his slit before moving your hand downward and slowly stroking his cock, already eliciting sweet groans to fall from his lips. “Just relax, Neteyam. I’ll take care of you.” You whisper softly in his ear before gliding your tongue around the shell of his ear and making your way down his neck and to his jaw, covering each inch of skin you touch in kisses.

In a million eclipses the mighty warrior never thought he would see the day where Eywa would grant his wish to share an intimate moment with you but here you are, giving him a handjob and him crumbling in your hands and succumbing to your pleasures. Now he’s thankful that his father made him come on this overnight hunting trip, this is so much better than being alone in his mauri and jerking off to the thought of you.

Fanbase — @eme1hyst @o-kingston @erenjaegerwifee @Kaydoux @biaaaaaaaa1 @hikotaru @thisaintredwine @lexieeeeeeeei @that-gurl25 @Peanut713521 @anemonelovesfiction @32saucy-minx @rae @bigdikzaddy @laylasbunbunny @merlinbtch @morisim @btsiguess-kpop @sussybaka10 @galactict3a @shima @eyrina-avatar @headsincloud9 @buble787635 @normspellmann @em-x0 @sliqeramx @lexasaurs634 @yetanotherattemptatanaccount @myh3artttt @savagemickey03 @neteyamyawne @neteyamsblog @deadgirlrin

— all rights reserved © INLOVEWITHPANDORA 2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[ko-existing]

a lot of y’all are really heartless people cause the way you say ‘don’t take any of this as real’ when you don’t know what others are experiencing at the moment or how difficult it is for them. someone could be in a very abusive environment and if they ask you for advice on how to change the circumstance, y’all reply rudely by telling them to follow loa or a manifestation blog. instead of giving genuine advice, y’all call it trauma dumping when others are just stating their situations where “just be” is quite hard to do when they are in a flight or fight mode.

you anons have this interesting but very weird misconception that the lives of "bloggers" were sunshine and rainbows from the start, where does that idea come from

If someone reads a hundred posts combined from multiple blogs and still decides to chase whatever they are chasing and demands a manual of a simple direct philosophy to change whatever it is they want to change, isn't going back to LOA the only thing bloggers can tell them if that's literally what they're looking and asking for?

The belief of being a tangible Person with Rules and Methods has no place here.

If that's something you do not understand, there's nothing on this blog that will satisfy you. And that's fine, no one is holding you here Telling you there's no manual is not right ; Telling you to go back to LOA is also not right

So.. what is right?

You're demanding something this blog doesn't provide.

It's like if I went to a regular german market and asked for Tsampa. I'm demanding something they don't have so, they'll redirect me to a Tibetan or Ethiopian store online because of what I asked. If I get mad afterwards that they did it, that's illogical. They told me exactly where I can find Tsampa.

We (all blogs you're referring to) told you exactly where you can find your rules and techniques.

It has nothing to do with being heartless, it's a fact that there is nothing we can say that you want to hear because if we did, it's not correct and purely limited. "Oh, do ABC to get XYZ" is absolutely false here.

We have said million times that this whole thing has to be noticed by yourself, no one can notice it for you or do anything else. How did we get to this conclusion? It's Direct Experience.

If you don't want to, then continue somewhere else? What do you think bloggers did? Woke up on a tuesday afternoon and started talking on tumblr about something they heard on weibo?

It's Direct Experience.

To quote an old post I made:

"A Tibetan saying goes, “You can lead a horse to water, but it has to drink on its own.” We can point to this simplicity, but each person has to see it directly. So if you’re here, seeking rules and steps to follow, that approach won’t apply here. We’re not here to hand you instructions on how to "xyz". This isn’t a thing with techniques or guides. Instead, it’s a direct recognition, beyond all structures, beyond “how-to” or “why.” If you’re expecting someone to hold your hand, you’ll only end up feeling frustrated. This freedom is already yours, and only you can recognize that for yourself."

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 53 - Goblintown

Goblins, spiders, and the necronomicon. Peachy.

On AO3.

The brainworms can mind-whammy some of the goblins so hard you pull a jedi “we absolutely do go here” shenanigan on them. The worm slams your brain into one of the archer goblins up top of one a them houses, and before you can even think about it, you feel her mind quiver, and then accept your power.

But then the brainworm does something. It twitches in your skull. The human brain ain’t got no nerve endings. It’s impossible to tell exactly what happens, but it’s like something in you winks out. A star in the galaxy of your brain just goes dark. Something alters. Something is gone.

And you can’t remember what.

“I knew these tadpoles could be advantageous,” Astarion says, all but rubbing his hands together in glee.

You rub the side of your head. Meet Lae’zel’s stare. She holds your gaze, and then deliberately narrows her eyes.

She knows. The brainworms can influence people. But there’s a cost. And you don’t even remember enough to know if it was worth it. It did get y’all past the gate without having to shoot somebody (oh look, more bodies lying around, even if they are mostly bones), but you don’t like it.

The goblins mention a camp further up the road. But y’all do a bit of poking around before y’all head that way (y’all are looting). In an herb shop, y’all find a basement. And a secret door inside that basement.

Which leads to a bunch of reanimated skeletons, some kind of magic mirror Karlach puts a rock through, and the apparent resting place of the motherfucking necronomicon.

You stare at the ugly damn thing as flames whoosh behind you. Damn thing went up like a gasoline barrel after you picked the thing up. Y’all’ve shut and re-locked the door behind y’all, and don’t appear to be anything around that’s flammable, so it should be able to blaze away. Besides, if an abandoned village serving as camp for a scouting party of war goblins goes up in flames, would anything of value actually be lost?

The book looks something nasty. You ain’t sure if somebody cut off the desiccated face of some boor bastard and glued it to the cover, or if that cover is some kinda, like, physical manifestation of a soul trapped between the pages (that thing is skin; it has fucking pores).

You nudge the lump in your cleavage where your soul jar sits.

“Oh, creepy book,” Karlach says, looming over your shoulder. “Please don’t open the creepy book. That thing must be loaded with curses.”

Magical Faerun. Of course there’s haunted books.

“I think it’s locked anyway,” you say. There ain’t no visible lock, neither.

“I could take it off your hands?” Gale says. “I am just about due for another artifact—”

“Don’t you dare.” Astarion swoops in from across the room. Catches your eye and looks away. “We have no idea how valuable something like that might be. It’d be a shame to let the wizard eat it.”

“As opposed to what?” Shadowheart says. “Letting you have it?”

“I don’t see why not. Unless any of you—the wizard excluded—would rather take it?”

“Destroying it seems the best option,” Wyll says.

To which Astarion literally gasps. Only thing the man is missing is a set of pearls to clutch.

And then they look at you, and you look at that book, and you can actually trace faint, dried out capillaries below the ridges of the upper mouth. Withered gums pulled back over yellowed teeth enamel. Holy fuck, that is somebody’s face.

You shudder. “Goblins, druid, brainworms. Divvy all this shit after that, huh?”

Literally none of them like the compromise, but nobody gets an advantage, so they watch you shove the haunted fucking book into your magic bag.

***

So Gale falls through the floor of the place across the street. Lands in another hidden workshop with another hidden passageway—this one just a crumbled wall. Which leads to a cave full of monster fucking spiders.

Y’all—mostly Karlach and Lae’zel—kill the shit outta the things (as big as a goddamn great dane sweet baby jesus). And y’all find more shit to loot. Turns out, other people fell down here or got dragged down here and didn’t have a Karlach or a Lae’zel. And then Astarion’s voice drifts back, all soft and high in a way you know in your bones means he’s up to some shit.

And then Wyll, who tagged after him to keep an eye out, mutters a curse and everybody turns.

Astarion has, in fact, found something interesting. And has, in fact, gotten to it. It’s the whole “chased by a fucking truck-sized motherfucker of a spider” part that’s the problem. So tired, acid-burned, poisoned, and in general overall maimed, y’all fight twenty-goddamned-more spiders and their goddamned Shelob mother.

What y’all get out of it is a purple, glowing rock.

You stare at Astarion, the grinning bastard, as green slime slides down the side of your neck and a glob plops off your nose. Around you are several squashed baby spiders, their guts oozing slowly down the shaft of your whacking stick.

“That’s…what this was all about,” you say.

Karlach is missing a patch of hair. Wyll lost his rapier down a crevasse. Somehow, one of them fuckers exploded and Lae’zel is literally covered in guts (y’all say nothing as she scowls, pops a slimy finger into her mouth, and seems to consider the taste).

Astarion is one hundred percent unscathed. Not a spot of muck, not a single singe of acid. Not even a stray gibblet in his stupid, poofy hair.

“It matches the gems on the book,” he says. “The eyes. I know my way around a lock or two, and this is the exact sort of thing a wizard—”

Said with a tone that makes Gale’s eyes narrow even further.

“—would go mad for. None of the others want it. So why not let me take it off your hands?”

That book craves the soul of the innocent. It really would be best to chuck it down that huge-ass chasm across the floor and be done with it. But…

You don’t owe the man nothing.

But the amputated connection of friendship still tingles with the phantom memory of late-night talks, his cool hands pressing your wrist.

I’d have bedded you twice by now if you were normal.

He’s a grown ass man two hundred years old, and a fucking vampire to boot. If he wants to play patty-cake with the exorcist, let him.

“Sure,” you say.

Astarion opens his mouth to argue. Then it clocks, and so do his teeth when his jaw snaps shut.

You dig the damned thing out, hold it pinched between your fingers.

“Are you sure about this?” Shadowheart says.

The vampire looks from the book, to you. The shadow of a frown mars his brow. Then he straightens. Says, “Really? Just like that?”

You’re sure you look as tired as you feel. “I don’t want it, nobody wants it, and we’re all covered in dead spider. At least make it worthwhile and take the damned thing. Just…don’t open it while anybody else is around?”

He eyes you. Reaches out and takes it all slow, like you’re gonna jerk it back. Or like it’s gonna bite him. You let it go.

“Right,” he says. And stands there. While you also stand there.

Man don’t know how to say thank you. Noted.

“Hey, Eleanor,” Wyll says. He’s over poking around the dead shelob, and he emerges holding some kinda dress. “I think this might suite you.”

***

It’s a robe, not a dress, and it magically adjusts itself over you, stays and all. It’s got embroidery to look like webbing, all of it a soft, silver mint green. And, it turns out, it makes you motherfucking poisonous.

“Be very careful with that staff,” Gale says.

Unlike a lot of the magic here, this one don’t make your staff glow a sickly green or nothing. So whoever you hit with the whacking end is gonna get real sick, real fast, and have no idea why.

You like it. Finally might not be so goddamn useless in combat. Plus, it looks kinda cool in an “evil sorcerer” way.

Karlach grins and makes you spin around. “Nice threads, soldier. Finally look like a proper adventurer.”

“Adventurer” meaning ren-faire attendee, but they’re all crushing it, and standing out ain’t probably a good idea. Just because you’re an uneducated (in Faerun), inexperienced hillbilly, it don’t mean you wanna advertise that.

The others mill about, chatting with each other, cleaning gear as best they can. Astarion has fucked off by himself again to peer at that book—still unopened thank fuck. He looks up, spots you watching, and shoves the book back into his pack. He ain’t mingling with the others no more.

Cause that ain’t awkward at all.

You rub your face.

And have a thought.

“This thing only makers that staff poisonous, right?” you say. Your hands kinda tingle.

“Oh yes,” Gale says. “Even mad wizards have enough sense not to poison themselves. Mostly.”

You stare. “Mostly?”

He smiles. And you really hope that tingle is just psychosomatic.

Spiders dead and looting done, y’all surface up through some well bucket (that bitch must be enchanted or something, cause there ain’t no way a dinky ass rope on a dinkier ass bucket could haul you up, let alone Karlach without bursting into flame).

There’s only one more home that ain’t a collapsed pile of rubble left. The spider fight wiped y’all out. It’d be nice to find somewhere to set up camp, maybe even sheltered from the elements. The goblins seem to be avoiding this one, which—in retrospect—should have been a big, red flag.

But y’all are beat, and survival instincts are freshly squeezed out, so y’all trudge on in to get smacked in the face by the reek of death, blood, and some kinda rancid piss.

And then the ogre takes a swing at you.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[sirensplayhouse]

REVISION 101

now as we’re all aware revision has become quite the popular topic in the loass community as of late. for why ? I have no idea, but just like everything else y’all are confusing the everlasting hell out of it and each other. so sit back and relax because class is back in session with your favorite sirengodmother 🤝🏾

re·vi·sion (/rəˈviZH(ə)n/)

noun

the act of revising; the act of changing or correcting something, or the thing that has been changed or corrected

y’all know how if you bombed a test or assignment you’d be given the chance to revise it after school or sumn ? yea 🤝🏾

“Changing your life means changing the past. The causes of any present evil are the unrevised scenes of the past.” - Neville Goddard excerpt from ‘The Law and the Promise’

y’all seem to have this deep rooted belief that revision is anything but natural when in fact it is completely 100% natural. when you revise your going back into your imagination and rewriting how you want things to be.

y’all also seem to believe that manifesting presently and revising are on two different levels, and I’m here to tell you it’s not✋🏾

ok so siren since you’re saying all of this and it’s going in one ear and out the other , how do I revise ?

well glad you asked🤭revising is no different than manifesting in the present. (nie reread that until it’s engraved 🙂) the same way you’d affirm/visualize or do whatever that helps you manifest you can do it to revise. remember it all starts within you, in your wonderful human imagination

the past is never and will never be set in stone you can literally revise whatever you see fit.

success stories you might not think have anything to do with revision but they do

• diploma

• revision success stories

• revised parents

• revised never having an infection

• revised exams

• eye color change

•job

• appearance

• body change

• revised the date

• revised a death / another one

• parents

• another razzle dazzle

now there are some success stories missing I know someone asked me to tag revising a birthday and that’s somewhere on my page deep in the archives🧍🏾‍♀️

ok so you wanna revise/manifest your dream life ? lol what’s stopping you then ? revising that you’ve always lived your dream life is nothing hard. however you choose to manifest whether it’s through affirming, visualizing, scripting, etc, doesn’t matter.

if you’re using affs affirm in the past tense “ I have been living my dream life (for however long)”, “I manifested my dream life (so and so long ago)” , “ I have always had my db/df (or whatever your manifesting / revising”

if you’re visualizing then visualize a scene in where the past has been rewritten to what you want it to be. Neville in ‘The Law and the Promise’ spoke of a woman who revised a life long back injury that she had endured, simply by visualizing herself back in the past and revising the events that caused her injury.

“To revise the past is to re-construct it with new content. Man should daily relive the day as he wished he had lived it, revising the scenes to make them conform to his ideals. For instance, suppose today's mail brought disappointing news. Revise the letter. Mentally rewrite it and make it conform to the news you wish you had received. Then, in imagination, read the revised letter over and over again and this will arouse the feeling of naturalness; and imaginal acts become facts as soon as we feel natural in the act. This is the essence of revision and revision results in repeal.” - Neville Goddard

when you’re revising something you’ll have all the memories of it and the experience. for example I revised always having my back dimples pierced, and when I woke up the next morning I saw them. I had all the memories of going to get them done and I remembered how it felt to get them done.

some anon knowledge for y’all

also for the girlies that want to manifest always living (ie; revising😑) their dream life and manifest never manifesting it ? pleaseeeee 😭yes it’s possible but like I said that’s literally revision

now that we got all of that cleared😮‍💨I sincerely hope (and I’m manifesting strongly) that everyone who was confused about revision or had reserves about it completely understood /understands everything I’ve written here. because idk how many more revision questions I can take🫠

[celestewilllow]

ASTRO OBSERVATION P2

>>Mercury in Scorpio/Scorpio degree- they can be very blunt. not in the same way Taurus or Aquarius are( they deal with facts and are more logical ) but mercury in Scorpio will tell you to fuck off if needed.

>>Asc conjunct mercury - a gift for vivacious speech, they can move mountains only by communicating their ideas.

>>Libra with Scorpio placements or Scorpio with libra placements- MAGNETISM aka femme Fatales. But all in all, they are very dutiful and can make very interesting and loyal partners. 

>>Having absolutely no placements in 5th or 7th houses doesn’t indicate late or no marriage. there are other factors for it. Partnerships won’t be so much of a focus mostly, that’s it.

>>The thing about Jupiter in the 12th being divinely protected is true. ( me and my sister both have this placement and both of us have been rescued on time from some very dangerous consequences, me from getting kidnapped and my sister from wild animals) [ story for another time ig :) ]

>>Water sign risings In my opinion attract people who need comfort, support, and healing.

>>Air sign risings attract people who need opportunities for selfish reasons. 

>>Moon in Libra in 1H are super sweet and giving but it can manifest as someone who appears very sweet and considerate but are very self-centered emotionally and can slightly offend you by suddenly being selfish. ( I mean it’s up to us to realize that we don’t owe anyone anything so finance your emotions yourselves, babes:)) 

>>Venus conjunct/opposition Pluto- being so intense in relationships. Not everyone can handle y’all love, so give only where it’s worth. Oh also a suggestion- be wary of getting jealous and people who are jealous of you guys.

>>People with a combination of lots of aquarian and Piscean degrees/ signs- You’ll are everyone’s mates. You have a higher view of community and are so open-minded and accepting. People like to have you around tho not everyone gets y’all but don’t let that stop you. Your ideas are for the bigger minds.

>>Your Jupiter signs can tell how you can attract luck and abundance- for example, Jupiter in Cancer- by service/help in a way or two without expecting anything in return. Jupiter in Libra- by being able to understand and see things from all perspectives. Jupiter in Leo- by being the naturally charismatic leader that you are. 

>>Your Venus sign can tell what qualities you like in a person, but to find an ideal person look at your Descendant, Juno(3) sign, and asteroid groom(5129)/briede(19029). There are so many other factors but these could resonate the most. 

>>How the air Venus signs love:

Gem Venus- 🧡they could think of you all day and still not get tired. thinking of you when listening to that song. reading that poem, writing that poem. always wondering what you like, what you’re doing, etc. Finds you in everything they do, knows all ur favs. They could wander around here and there and still find something that relates to you. Going into the details in their underrated specialty. just communicate interestingly enough for them.

Libra Venus-💗 Venus is at home here, They will make you comfortable in love. They will put you first. They will include you in all their doings and expect you to stick with them both when they’re up to some bad shit or just in a bad place. Because they would. Will also keep up with your shit. just be clean and polite with manners.  

Aqua Venus-💜Will accept you just the way you are. No pressure. What they won’t share with the world they will share with you, even if it’s hard they will try. Will be your best friends first and then, will be everything at once. They’re open-minded so don’t be too scared to say anything. small tip- if you crush/love an Aqua Venus, before you confess just get a slight, tiny confirmation you can expand beyond the friend zone because their friendzone is a huge zone 😆 

Have a peaceful day ❤️.

(I do not own the picture)

[diaday333]

Hello, hello! Todays topic is…(drumroll please)… what you need to hear right now! Just some simple, good ole advice from spirit! ALSO, we are almost at 200 followers and I kinda plan on doing something special, but if you have any ideas or any recommendations, please comment or send an ask!

To pick a pile, take a deep breath, relax, and pick whichever photo you’re most drawn to

Warning! Remember, tarot readings are not the end all be all. So if there is something that you don't like or if it doesn't resonate, don't take it! Second, don't take tarot readings as replacement for professional advice, I beg of you. Finally, I'm dyslexic, so if something is... Off, either call it out or ignore it and move on with your life-respectfully.

I’m offering paid readings now, to see more about that, click here

Also, if you enjoy my readings and you want to, you could donate and support me! I would appreciate it a lot!

My cashapp ||| my Kofi

Pile one

Ok what y’all need to hear right now is that y’all are manifesting something big and really important and you’re almost there, but you have to take a few more steps to get there. You’ve been really in your head about this manifestation, and I know it’s hard, but you just have to let things come naturally! You are almost at the end of this journey though and you just have to wait a little longer. I’m seeing that this manifestation will either be coming in a few weeks or in fall! You need to start putting you and your emotions first. Try to stay away from drama even if people try to put you in it! Set your boundaries and walk away. Show the world the real you and stop hiding yourself because you’re afraid of what people will say. Be at ease because a personal issue will soon be resolved. You need to rely on your intuition because the intelligence of the universe lies within you.

Pile two

You’ve been through a lot lately and you’ve been working hard, but now it’s time to rest. You need to sit down and look at all your achievements because you haven’t been giving yourself credit! You need to start speaking up for yourself. Maybe as a child, you were taught not to talk back and this really affects you know, but it’s time for this change. You also need to speak better to yourself and give yourself the kindness you deserve. You also need to pay more attention to your needs. Maybe your body is calling you to move more or get outside more. This can also be as simple as opening your blinds or your window. Look at the bigger picture and don’t focus on the small things. The answers you need are coming, so just trust the universe. These answers will bring peace and harmony into your life, so just wait patiently because it will not be long.

Pile three

You need to slow down right now. You’re doing to much and it’s becoming more detrimental to you. Because of how fast you’re going and all the things you’re doing, you’re ignoring your inner judgment and not taking care of your needs (also pile 2 had similar messages, so if you want, go check it out). You need to set higher standards for yourself and invite happiness and love into your life. What you believe is what you create. You need to have more trust in yourself. You need to be more confident because that is your way to success. You need to release all the negative energy to make space for the positive energy ! You also need to do work through your fears and do the things that scare you, but will ultimately benefit you (ofc not situations that are dangerous and that you are pressured into). Like talking that person or starting a business! If you have the means to do it! Then do it! You need to right the past wrongs that you have done to yourself and apologize to yourself. And then take the steps to make it better. You need to soften up to love and start loving yourself unconditionally.

Pile four

What you need to hear is that you need to let yourself be taken care of! Go out (ofc be safe cuz we are in a pandemonium), and have fun! With some friends if you can. Or you can go over to someone’s house and have fun there, but let someone else host it! You need to relax. Step down from taking care of everything. Let someone else fill your cup instead. Instead of listening to everyone else’s problems, talk to them for a change. Put yourself first. You are good enough and you’re doing a good job. Don’t feel like you have to be constantly doing stuff for others to be worthy. Surrender and just enjoy life. You don’t have to constantly productive! Just relax for a change and let someone else do the work.

Hello! Thanks for reading! All the piles had do with relaxing and I find that pretty interesting. I hope you enjoyed and I hope I’ll see you again on one of my PAC.

[daincrediblegg]

Assorted Bruno Headcanons

a/n: because it’s sunday and I’ve been mulling things over quite a bit for my own entertainment and oh lawd I’m fuckin crying. Enjoy y’all.

His visions aren’t involuntary- or at least, not completely, but they weren’t always a voluntary thing- but they did eventually become completely voluntary through his own anxiety management. Hear me out.

His whole superstitious nature seems to me like it stems from him being a very imaginative kid who let his ideas run away from him to the worst possible conclusion- which then manifested into his prophetic gift when he came of age (seems this is how a lot of the gifts work- being that Antonio loved animals before he got his gift of the ability to speak to them- like these gifts don’t come out of nowhere clearly- they are entirely dependent on the kid’s proclivities before the ceremony even takes place). 

So when he was a kid- he’d probably (very much like Pepa, actually) let his mind run away from him- and before he knows it there’s dust and dirt and sand whirling up around him and his eyes are glowing and everyone is FREAKING OUT and then when everything suddenly settles: there’s Bruno. With a little glowing green tablet of whatever he saw. But these vision tablets that get produced when this happens tend to be very fuzzy and unclear. Still a vision with the vague outcome of the event but the details are hard to see, unfocused. 

And this is where his little ritual comes in. It’s not so much a thing he does to manifest the vision itself, but rather something he learned to do for himself over time to help him have visions easier and not let his anxiety over them get so out of control (like- does a LOT of deep breathing and even gets into a meditative pose for it- to which I’m like good for you for practicing self care king). It probably helps him see things a little clearer when he has a clearer head to focus with too (because having visions the other way??? it’s giving me second-hand anxiety just thinking about it like jesus. Like when he has his vision in Antonio’s room with Mirabel in the movie I kept on thinking like lol this is the exact kinda shit I gotta do for myself to hype myself up for a phone call. Same energy for sure.)

I feel like Julieta may have, deep down, known that Bruno was still around by sole virtue of him being kitchen adjacent and also like how the hell else would he feed himself hanging out in the walls for 10 years??? I feel like she maybe never stopped making an extra portion of food for Bruno just from instinct- and he either snuck down to get his grub on later or for Casita to snatch and bring up to his lil hidey hole when everyone else was having dinner. Either way my boy’s getting fed damnit.

Speaking of- he’s probably known about the hidey hole for a long time- if he didn’t create it himself. I mean there’s a lot of old furniture and stuff back there and there’s no way casita came with that built in. I mean that house shifts around and changes a lot thanks to ✨miracle magic✨ maybe it’s stuff that just... nobody was using it so the hidey hole is kinda like casita’s personal storage that the rest of the household members don’t know about... except Bruno. Whose hole probably showed up in the casita walls when he was younger when his gift wasn’t being the most useful or most widely loved thing in the world (a.k.a. the hidey hole is a precursor to the cracks- fun implications there). Like that’s his childhood safe space. Even from his room (which granted- didn’t always look the same as it did as we see it in the moive, but was still probably a really intimidating space to be in even to a little kid. So he probably went back there a lot and hung out, let himself be himself without the pressure of using his gift or anything- and what better place then to hide out years later when he had to disappear???

Also adjacent to this: when casita gets re-built and the magic gets reinstated- his room this time looks a little bit more like the hidey-hole- with all his old furniture, patched up and looking damn near brand-new. But this time with a real bed, but still with his old hammock and chair, and an actual cage/space for his rats to live too (complete with rat theater space). And an actual WINDOW so he can get some sunlight in there too. He probably cries when he sees it for the first time. “Tio Bruno are you ok?” Mirabel asks. “I’m fine. It’s just... no more stairs!” She nods and pats his back in solidarity. 

He never was exactly the “golden” child. Not in the slightest- and certainly not in the same way that Isabella was. Like... he’s never been widely loved by the whole town (and the song really speaks to that - that’s not the song of someone who was once much beloved and then fell from grace like that’s genuine town pariah shit)- and nobody to this day really seems to understand him or how his visions work. The only person I think he might’ve held a little more weight for is Alma- who I bet relied on him a little too much for his visions (I mean her biggest fear is losing her home and the people she loves again- hell of a thing to then have a little boy who can see the future and tell you definitively whether you will or won’t)- but then the problem was that she probably relied a little too heavily on him for assurance, and when the visions are never what they seem when you look at them at first or with a clearly defined fate... it makes it really hard for him to face his mom because of that. And no doubt Alma has misunderstood what his visions have meant before (hence why he resorts to the immediate conclusion that he has to leave when he has Mirabel’s vision). She still loves him though(I mean she loves all her babies equally and dearly but like... he’s her Baby Boy. Evident in how she immediately hugs him and kisses his cheek and calls him Brunito seeing him for the first time in 10 years despite having parted the way they did and - again- 10 YEARS of the bitterness of that wound festering for the both of them???)... yeah. Mama Madrigal has the biggest soft-spot for her Brunito above all. Even if they’ve always had a hard time fully understanding one another (though I bet Bruno probably got Alma’s anxieties a little better than anyone else), she loves him. Ok. That is all. 

Lol none of the townspeople’s Bruno prophecies were actual prophecies. Bruno could tell the fish was swimming a little weird and was probably gonna die. The guy who ‘grew a gut’ LITERALLY??? HE’S THE SAME GUY THATS HANDING OUT PASTRIES AND SHIT LMAO (and ofc he never said anything about belly fat being a bad thing bruno says fat fuck rights) and the guy who lost his hair is pretty young Bruno probably knew his dad who was probably ALSO bald and there you have it! NOT THAT FUCKING HARD TO PREDICT. 

[harrywritingsbyme]

Keep Up

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: I literally started writing like 5 fics trying to find something that sticks😭but im backkkk…and im back with you guys’ favorite coupleeeee🤪this is the 5th installment of Sneaking Around and i hope y’all like it…enjoy🙃

To sum it all up, your sex drive and need for Harry was on fire and a little out of control. You managed to be completely satisfied and unsatisfied all at the same time. While you felt so good after each and every round, you craved something more. You were needing round after round after round of pleasure from Harry. Whether it be from his cock, hands, or mouth, you could honestly care less if it meant that you’d be filled to the brim with the highly addictive pleasure Harry gave you. Your hormones only made it even more impossible to not want and crave more pleasure. They only intensified the already strong need  had him and made the pleasure that much more seismic and addictive. Even though by the end of one round alone Harry had you completely shaking and numb, your mind and body still managed to cry out for more. 

Now Harry thought this constant need of yours was incredibly hot and he absolutely loved having you wrapped around his finger and desperate for any physical touch from him. It was mind blowing to him that after a round of him consistently pounding into you over and over again, you’d still be sipping wet and waiting for more. But while all of that was the case, Harry also recognized that you in fact had him wrapped around your finger as well. While he loved making you beg and do anything he said in order for the mess between your legs to be taken care of, he knew that you also loved knowing that he wouldn’t not take care of you. If you hadn’t done anything warranting a punishment from him, Harry wasn’t going to let you suffer. But the problem with that though, is the fact that Harry was having a bit of a hard time keeping up with you.

See, whenever you two went at it, Harry strived to give you everything he had. He wanted every single time he pushed or licked into you to be the most pleasurable experience you’d ever felt until the next time. Well, more like the next round. Harry took your pleasure seriously, he felt like you deserved 110% all of the time and if it meant blowing his back out in the process of blowing yours out so that the experience could be beyond amazing, then so be it. However, the problem manifests itself after Harry gives the first 110%. Since there was quite an age gap between the two of you, while you were parting your legs or hopping on top of him for more, Harry was asking for at least 15 minuets to recover. Now he did have his moments where it seemed like he was unstoppable, but he also had moments where he needed a bit of an extended break in between. 

But even though this was the case and you absolutely loved him for wanting to put your pleasure at the forefront, you were more than happy to take charge and pleasure the both of you, the same way Harry did because the same way he made sure you were taken care of, you wanted to do the same for him. And while Harry too appreciated that, he couldn’t help but make little jokes about how he was becoming your personal sex toy instead of the other way around. To which you would then remind him of the time when he took you in just about every way possible until he was done with you (which was amazing by the way). You were also more than willing to take control because you found that whenever you took over and pushed you both to your respective releases, Harry would cum a bit harder than he would if the roles were reversed. 

Now at this point in you and Harry’s rendezvous, you were two for two with your releases. In the earlier part of your time together, the two of you were lying together in bed, with you on top and going in the opposite direction of Harry, giving you both the opportunity to completely mouth at each other. Harry had a firm hold on your hips to keep you right on his mouth as he sucked, licked, poked, and prodded at your center. As he did this, you were tugging at and sucking his cock, making sure to not forget about his warm and heavy balls in the process. You and Harry melted into each other as you both received and gave one another pleasure. The way Harry’s mouth engulfed and perfectly moved back and forth against you was indescribable. He knew exactly where to lick and suck and focus his movements, and knowing exactly how much pressure to apply. Harry made you feel so good that it was hard to even keep him in your mouth with the way you were constantly moaning. It just felt so good. It didn’t help that you could hear him going on and on about how good you tasted and even moaning against your pussy. But you weren’t the only enjoying the immense pleasure. Harry too was completely engulfed in the way your mouth and hands sent shockwaves and a feeling of euphoria through his body. He could feel every movement of your tongue and every contraction of your throat around him. Now if there was one thing that would always be his favorite when it came to your mouth on his cock, it’d be how sloppy you were with it. You’d slobber all over his shaft and balls, then take him as far down your throat as possible before gagging around his shaft and getting him even wetter. the same way Harry went on and on about your cunt, you did the same with his cock, going on about how big he was and how much you loved having him fill your mouth. Your moans as well sent shockwaves through his body, only pushing him closer and closer to the edge. And eventually, the two of you were catapulted off together, Harry released spurt after of his thick cum into your mouth as you squirted right against his mouth.  

This was just you guys’ first pair of releases.

The second pair came around no more than 5 minuets ago. After using your mouths, the both of you were ready for more. It was not long before Harry was sinking his still rock hard cock into your soaked cunt. The both of you nearly came on the spot it felt so good. Once he’d fully sank into you, Harry wasted no time picking up the speed of his hips and pounding himself down into you. It felt so good that you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out strings of loud moans and cries. Your mind was completely jumbled as you took every last stroke from him. Your moans and his grunts, along with the sound of his cock drilling into your sopping wet cunt along with the sounds of your skin slapping against each others filled the room. As you two continued on, you’d flipped in between different positions. From Harry pinning you down from behind to having your legs practically pinned to your chest as Harry slammed into you over and over again. The two of you only made it through about three or so positions before coming around to you riding Harry and carrying you both through to your second releases.

While Harry was thinking the last round was the final one, you had other ideas. 

“Can we go again daddy?” You ask sweetly, proceeding to bite your lip. 

“I don’t think I can keep up with you.” He pants, not feeling any spurts of energy to get him through another round. 

“You don’t have to lift a finger daddy, just let me do it!” You excitedly instruct him before leaning down to press a quick peck to his lips. 

You then proceed to begin moving yourself up and down on his cock, forming a little rhythm with your movements. You quickly bounced yourself up and down in his lap, taking his cock all the way up into you as deep as possible over and over again. As you continued on, your moans were just as loud as before, and you continued to slur your speech as you went on and on about how full you were and how good you felt. Harry too let out strings of deep moans and grunts below you, enjoying the way you moved your warm and sticky cunt around him. When you started feeling a dull tingling sensation in your feet and legs, you knew that your lower half was almost numb. To push you and Harry to your third and final pair of releases, you started grinding down into his lap. You’d push your front down into his so that you could dig your tingling button into the coarse hairs surrounding his cock. The feeling was absolutely incredible and pushed you closer and closer to your final climax. To push Harry along with you, you start off by reaching back and tugging at his warm balls. When you do this, Harry lets out a loud and desperate moan below you. He was already beyond his normal sensitivity so a couple squeezes from you felt incredible and furthermore pushed him closer to the edge.

What did the trick for the two of you though was when you grabbed both of Harry’s hands and brought them up to your body. You brought one down to your clit, and the other up to your chest to squeeze at one of your bouncing breasts.

“Touch me daddy!” You cry out to him, feeling your release speeding towards you. “M’so close!” You whine, swiftly grinding against his cock and down into his hand. 

“Me too doll!” Harry grunts, bucking up into you ever so slightly.

And in no time, you were squirting uncontrollably against him. Harry began to let go not too long after when he began to feel the warm liquid begin to run down his balls. He watched and listened to you whimper and thrash in his lap from the overstimulation as he completely emptied himself into you, giving everything he had left to give. Once you’ve rode the waves of your release, you collapse onto Harry’s chest, too tired to even hold yourself up anymore. 

“Did you finally wear yourself out sweets?” Harry breathes, bringing his arms around your body and pressing a soft kiss to your neck. 

“Mhm, felt so good.” You whisper dreamily, reminiscing on the immense pleasure that came from the last three rounds. 

“I bet it did baby.” Harry hums, dragging his hand up and down your back, feeling you slightly clench up around him. “I remember when I was your age and my hormones were crazy too.” Harry chuckles. 

“Yeah, and now you’re an old man. But it’s okay because you’re my old man.” You sigh, pressing a small kiss into his skin.

“M’not old!” Harry softly whines before lightly pinching your side. “You’re gonna get it in the morning.” Harry warns playfully. 

“We’ll see, I don’t think you’ll be able to keep up.”

Masterlist

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Bad Feedback, Bad Faith Feedback, and You

I’ve spent a couple of days reeling from a lava-hot terrible take, and while I don’t think it’s remotely worth engaging with, it is worth talking about, so here goes. Let’s say you write a fanfic, and you receive a review. It goes something like this:

This fic is racist.

That’s it. That’s all it says. You have a wide range of reactions you can go through, but first, I recommend just... logging off. The internet demands you react to everything immediately, but the internet isn’t real and can go fuck itself. Leave your computer for a bit. Eat a cookie. Come back the next day. Or a few days, whatever.

Come back, and let’s look at this piece of feedback again. Judging by how you received it, you may have no idea if it’s from a 14-year-old thinking they’re making a good point, or a 37-year-old way too invested in fandom. You also may not have any idea what it’s talking about, a vague inkling of what it’s talking about, or very specifically know it’s just because you ship something half the fandom despises, because fandom, in general, sucks.

Regardless of intent, this is unhelpful. We can swap it out with ‘sexist/homophobic/etc’ but still it tells you nothing. You can’t do anything with this, and probably shouldn’t engage with it. It will probably linger in the back of your mind, and you can continue to talk to people about it to see if there is something that needs changing, but there’s not much more worth doing. It’s bad feedback.

However, let’s say the review is more detailed. It gives examples, cites language the reviewer thinks you shouldn’t use, or calls out bad characterization that comes off as racist/sexist/homophobic/etc. It may be polite or it may be hostile, but it is detailed.

Does that make it good feedback?

Well, it depends! You again may not know what it’s talking about, have a vague idea, or because you ship Tommy/Kimberly and most of fandom ships Tommy/Kat, you’ve ended up in some shitty fight you didn’t start. Again, fandom sucks.

You should still probably step away for a bit, because for the most part we all want to be good people, and we hate the idea of accidentally hurting someone. Those feelings also easily manifest as defensive at first, and the last thing you want to do is back yourself in a corner. Come back, talk with friends, do some research, engage the reviewer if they seem like someone you can engage with, but the question still remains. What if the reviewer was well-meaning, but wrong about what they wrote? What if they misinterpreted your story, or assumed you were something you weren’t?

A more detailed review pointing out a possible harmful flaw isn’t necessarily good feedback. How to process it - and how to decide what to fix if things do need fixing - is up to you, and I wish there was an easier way to answer that question, but there isn’t. Sometimes the reviewer is wrong, regardless of good intent. Sometimes you are wrong. Both situations will require careful thought and probably some anguish.

There are plenty of bad faith purity politics, those who think anonymous name-calling is actually activism, or overly projected personal trauma on fictional characters. I’ve seen the Discourse, I know what y’all have to deal with. But there also is no sweeping “everyone who talks about racism in fandom is just an anti” or “everyone who loves this straight pairing is just homophobic” statements that apply. You just have to do your best with what you know and what you can learn, and if that means making some changes because you’ve realized you were wrong, even if it’s hard. It sucks to deal with, but it is worth the work, because you don’t want your fiction to hurt. You’re worth the effort it takes to become a better person, bad faith assholes be damned.

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[personasintro]

No questions I just wanted to come on here and remind you and everyone to stay healthy, eat and drink water and to focus 🧘‍♀️ on ourselves only 🤞🏽I hope everyone is doing okay and if y’all currently find yourselves during a hard time I’m manifesting positive vibes and sending love to everyone 🫂💜

Mimi gracias por aver escrito MH! It’s such a wonderful story you have no idea how much this story has helped me with my depression 🫶🏼 it’s made me feel so many different emotions I’ve cried and I’ve gotten mad (in positive ways) I just really love you for helping me out 🫂 I hope you’re staying healthy and taking BREAKS! Don’t over do it and take some time off when ever you need it we love you and I hope you can continue this hobby of yours for many, many years 🫂 te amo 💖🧘‍♀️

I hope that makes sense 😅 Spanish was my first language and I’m trying my best to write this in English 😁

This is very lovely of you! Thank you for being so kind to everyone 🥹

Your English is great!! Thanks for the sweet words, it warmed my heart 🥺🫶

[airplanned]

All the Trashy Novels Part 30

This was fun, y’all.  Thanks for humoring me!

Part 1...Part 29

***

She spent four days mostly standing in front of the Goddess statue, trying to glow without requiring something inappropriate to trigger it.  She could now get it every single time with very minimal effort, but that effort was usually Link coming up behind her and placing a kiss where her neck met her shoulder, or trailing his fingers from the inside of her elbow to her wrist.  And suddenly her skin was lit up like a camp fire, a fuzzy pleasure brushing over her like a thin blanket.  It was embarrassing and frustrating, but at least she could trigger it without an orgasm and could hold her luminous state for long stretches once she got it going.

"That's true," Link agreed.  He'd taken a seat on the ground with his arms resting on his bent knees.  "You just need to work on not making that face."

Zelda huffed, her arms flopping to her sides and her glow spluttering out.  "I'm trying!"

The problem was that now that she'd allowed herself to feel affection for Link, she always felt a little giddy and ridiculous when she did so.  Apparently, this manifested not only in a divine luminescence, but also in a love-struck look on her face.  Link referred to it as "bedroom eyes" when he was being polite, and "fuck me face" when he wasn't.  He'd taken a bunch of pictures to show her, and he was (annoyingly) correct.  She could not make that face in public.

"Maybe you'd look less sultry if you closed your eyes," he said.

"Then I wouldn't be able to see anything!"

"Can you use your Goddess powers to see things?"

"I can use my Goddess powers to glow!  They don't do anything else!"

"Are they supposed to?"

"I don't know!"

"Try it."

She closed her eyes and tried it.  She remembered the warm pressure in her chest and she remembered the heat of his breath on her skin and she thought about how he he'd made her a tiny little cake the night before and then blushed as she'd gushed over it.  Those were things that she liked about him.  Those were good things, and she felt a way about them.

The glow didn't light.  

Why not?  Those had made her feel things.  She felt things.  Things for Link.  She took another breath and pushed into less appropriate territory, of the way he'd wrapped around her back the night before and let his hands wander until she was moaning with abandon and glowing, burning.

"You got it?"  His hands came to rest on her hips, and her eyes popped open as she lit up.

Goddess, she hated that he could do that. She batted the thought away, and held tighter to her lust.  Goddess, she liked his hands on her.

He looked taken aback, almost awed.  Even though he was expecting it.  Even though he'd seen it dozens of times now.  

Part of why she needed to get her face under control was that it affected Link so.

He swallowed hard.  "Close your eyes.  Let's see if that...oh."  His voice turned rough.  "Oh, that's so much worse."

He pulled her in at the waist and kissed her desperately.

#

Link made himself scarce as she wrote up her field notes.  She had very little to write.  She'd made very little progress.

In frustration, she tossed her journal away.  She would just have to have Link come touch her when he was done battling Ganon.  Maybe he could magically poke her with his index finger as if she were the Sheikah slate.  And they most likely would evacuate the area, so it wouldn't matter if she had on her come-hither face.  Link would just have to deal with not making out with her for however long it took to seal the Calamity away.  And who cared if she made a face?  If making a face saved the world, no one would be allowed to say anything.

Except Zelda cared.  She didn't want to look ridiculous, and she didn't want to rely on Link to access her own powers.  She glared at her journal.

Where was Link anyway?

She stomped off to go glare at him.  Or go have him be gentle and compassionate until she had too much trouble holding onto her irritation.

She found him before the Goddess statue, his head bowed, the sword drawn with its tip resting against the ground.

She frowned harder.  "Are you praying?" she asked.

He startled and spun around.  "Oh.  Yeah.  Um.  You haven't been praying lately, so I've had to...pray by myself."

An old, familiar hurt settled over her. Of course he was on such good terms with the Goddess, when she was...she was...

She was working on her relationship with the Goddess.  She understood that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt, and it didn't mean she wasn't still upset that she couldn't fully access her powers without the help of someone the Goddess liked.

Link looked nervous, as if he knew she was about to shout at him again.  Guilt lanced at her stomach.  She lowered her eyes and stepped near him.  

"What do you pray for?" she asked quietly.

"Um.  Nothing?"

She snorted.  "You pray for me."

He didn't say anything, which confirmed it.

"Show me," she said.  She turned him back to face the Goddess, and slipped her way into his arms, her back to his chest.  She placed her hands over his as they planted the sword to the ground.

He held himself stiff with discomfort, but then relaxed his arms under hers and lowered his head.  "Close your eyes," he murmured.  

Well, this was her idea.  She closed her eyes and lowered her head.

"I pray for you to have some guidance," he said.  "Because you desperately want to please her, and you want to do it right, but all you have to go on are rumors and what you're ordered to do by people who don't know what they're doing either.  I pray for some sign that you're on the right path.  Not because I want to know, because I know you'll get there.  But for you.  You need assurance or your self-doubt eats at you, and there's no way that self-doubt will save Hyrule.

"And I pray for you to be happy.  Because you're beautiful when you're sad and you're beautiful when you're angry, but I would die to see you smile.  To hear you laugh.  The way you carry yourself when you're at ease, the excited way you talk when you catch onto something new.  That light in you could light the whole world.  It could burn away the Calamity."

"You're a charmer," she murmured.

"You're a peach."

She snorted.  "You don't pray like I do."

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't tell the Goddess all that."

"Why not?"

Why not?  "Because she already knows?"

"But maybe she wants to hear you say it."

"She wants me to wax poetic about a girl?" she teased.

"Wax poetic about what you love."

"Love is a strong word."

"And you're asking for a powerful weapon."

Her eyebrows furrowed.  In a small voice she asked, "What should I pray for?"

He thought for a moment.  "Why do you want to save Hyrule?"

"Because it's my--" 

Duty.

She startled.  The answer had rolled off her tongue.

Anxiety she couldn't name clawed at her chest.  She shifted uncomfortably.  Maybe standing like this had been a bad idea.

"She'd like to hear you say it."

Her breath shook.  "I want to save my people.  My friends.  Urbosa and Revali and Mipha and Daruk.  They're so devoted and encouraging.  If they fell, then their people would suffer.  All the brilliance of our people would falter, all compassion and the triumphs.  The wonderful art and music and literature--"

"Even the bad literature."

"Especially the bad literature!  And the bad music!  All the ridiculous rumors, and the guards who devour those rumors, and all the fake girlfriends out there.  We would lose all of that!  And as shameful as it is, I would fight for those things."

"What else would you fighting for?"

"The Sheikah technology.  You don't know the victory you feel when two pieces snap together.  The thrill when a guardian lights blue under my hands.  The way Robbie nods along when I ramble and then picks up my thoughts and runs with them, taking them somewhere new, and the I can pick them up again and run farther.  The way Purah grabs my arm the moment I walk into the lab.  The way she drags me to a diagram and asks my opinion.  As if I'm wanted!  As if I'm needed!"

The sword flared under her hands, a ringing note at the base of her skull, and her eyes flew open at the call for attention.

She was glowing.  A warm pressure burned in her chest, and she grabbed hold of it to maintain it.

"What--"

"Things you care for," Link murmured.

She turned her head to look at him in surprise and confusion.

The corner of his mouth quirked.  "You're not making the face."

"How long have I been glowing?"

"Since you declared your love for trashy novels."

"Love is a strong word."

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. 

"But,” she said, “I need a strong weapon.”

His eyes darkened.  “You’re making the face again.”

When she kissed him, it was bright and sharp as the sun.

[daydream-believin]

MERLIN’S APPRENTICE & MERLIN’S CHAMPION || trollhunters

warnings: swearing

a/n: if rott gave me anything it gave me this idea

I KNOW I SAID “JUICY” BUT REALLY THAT WAS JUST THE ANGST POTENTIAL,, THAT IM NOT INDULGING IN THIS POST IM SORRY LMAO

OKAY WHAT IM REALLY TALKING BOUT HERE IS A GOOD MERLIN/ARTHUR BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS

no sorry i haven’t seen bbc merlin don’t come for me i’m ignorant

OKAY SO

we know douxie kept an eye on the human trollhunter and co

but douxie’s really having a hard time convincing himself he’s just doing his job

he’s actually enjoying this a little too much despite how boring staying in the shadows is

and he’s kinda worried?

so he’s got this bright idea: you know what would better help him keeps tabs? if he befriends this person

and so he does

fuck merlin’s shadows

sod the rules

ofc he’s very up front about knowing they’re the trollhunter and that he’s merlin’s apprentice

we wouldn’t want that to become a huge festering secret that eats douxie from the inside out until the inevitable reveal when merlin calls them both to help with the arcane order and they realize they’ve both been lying to each other’s faces for months/years and neither of them know if they could ever trust the other again, right? — phew *catches breath*

but before you know it, mr. casperan and mx. trollhunter are best friends

he’s basically the toby to your jim

and you’re very happy to have a best friend like douxie

he understands that monster hunting hustle

he’s the only person you can vent to and actually talk about what’s going on without sounding like a loon

and douxie likes being able to tell someone all his frustrations with merlin, since you’re also in that boat with him

you spar sometimes. it’s fun, but you’re very careful not to accidentally hurt your friend (he’s extremely careful not to hurt you or wound your ego by effortlessly wiping you out)

ofc, there’s the occasional, brushing of hands, faces a little too close together, accidentally winding up on top of one another, purposefully winding up on top of one another 👀 you know how sparring be

you and douxie are a duo. a duo who have become trollmarket’s resident troublemakers, to vendel’s exasperation

you guys tease each other a lot

you do a lot of stupid shit, cause hey, now you have magic armor and a magic sword and a magic best friend, did you think you wouldn’t get up to some shenanigans?

douxie is your impulse control and he’s not a very good one, as he’s just as bad

truthfully archie has the brain cell

and pranks? gods the pranks. you two are always either pranking each other or you’re teaming up to prank some other troll who said smth mean to you in the pub. vendel had to personally put a stop to it (read: chew you out)

doux thinks the world of you tho, you’re such a noble knight, and likes to tell people about how you’re a cinnamon roll, so innocent, so pure

and then they meet you and you directly contradict those statements

trollhunter: i’ve never done anything wrong in my life, ever

douxie: i know this and i love you

(spoiler: you’ve done lots and lots of wrong)

doux spends an awful lot of time slinking around trollmarket now, and he’s in the know for everything that’s happening

(no more being kept in the dark for this wizard apprentice)

and doux knows merlin won’t completely approve of this, but hey, it’s not like he’s helping and thus directly disobeying

really, he’s not helping you at all, it’s really fucking annoying

okay so mayyybe the occasional healing spell. you’ve got those puppy dog eyes he can’t say no to

but you understand his sense of duty, or whatever it is that drives a follower, technically being a follower of merlin yourself

you respect the old geezer (as you have not been turned into a half-troll yet) as a wise mythical figure, and as your best friend’s father

and what a perfect match you are for each other, champion and apprentice, mutually being screwed over by a guy you both think has all the answers

you and douxie help each other grow in your self-worths, that you two are more than the chances merlin has given to you

unfortunately, mortifyingly, you have caught feelings.

douxie has also caught feelings, and is saying nothing yep you have enough on your plate without him putting this on you so he’ll just quietly pine and suffer don’t mind him choking to death in the corner when you take off your helmet and throw back your hair

y’all’s problem really starts manifesting itself as protectiveness. you are really protective of your wizard and he is really protective of his knight

lots of things said that are Not What Friends Say but neither of you really want to be the one to point that out

lots and lots of i love yous that slowly get more and more serious until it’s not exactly platonic anymore

and it’s just really nice to have someone to get coffee (or your favored hot drink) with at four in the morning after a tussle with a troll

and that’s basically how you and douxie spend the bulk of trollhunters, just vibing

as much as you can vibe, with all the changelings and shit trying to murder you all the time

then merlin wakes up and shakes up your world

you are aware of your impending doom

you’re aware of it

merlin keeps looking you up and down like he’s mentally making up the measurements of your coffin

and tbh the idea of fighting gunmar freaks you tf out

and you’re supposed to win that fight?

gods

you’re preparing for your nightmares coming true soon

truthfully you knew your fucking job had a 100% mortality rate

you don’t want to die with regrets

so

you spill

you spill all the things you’d wanted to tell him and how much he means to you and that you couldn’t bear it if you were a goner before he knew

miraculously, douxie feels the same and tells you all the things he’d been holding back and and what you mean to him and how much he wants to protect you, that you’re gonna make it, if he had anything to say about it

and everything is perfect for one night

now you have a real reason to win

not that saving humanity isn’t a big responsibility on your shoulders and definitely A Reason

but knowing douxie’s waiting for you, for the life you’ll build together after this, the peace you’ll both have, it’s absolutely a big motivation to give your all and come out victorious and survive

hahaha loser you don’t know about the arcane order

and then merlin uses your microwave to cook a weird potion

you and merlin are alone in the house, but there’s no real mind games necessary. you may have grown past thinking he was a god, but in the end, you’re still a follower of merlin, and if merlin thinks this could give you an edge, well, who are you to question his methods

doesn’t mean you aren’t nervous as your master hands you the bottle

yet you don’t even hesitate to drown yourself in the black abyss of the tub

whatever it takes amirite?

and now you’re a half-troll

a sexy half-troll, if you do say so yourself

yeah, no ‘i’m a monster’ angst here, you’re loving the power-up

you’ve got to treat it like a cool new power-up or you will cry actually tbh i lied about the no-angst thing a new body is disorienting

your only real concern is douxie

not concerned for long tho, he sees you and the first thing out of his mouth is “nuclear!”

and he senses your concern, so he does go out of his way to assure you that boy, girl, enby, or half-troll, he loves you for your soul, darling

also again half-troll! you is hot as hell so he’s not really losing anything here 👀

he makes sure you know that too, not to let any insecurities fester

him raking his eyes up and down you gives the opposite effect of the dread merlin sent down your spine doing it

anyways,,,

doux helps out a lot more in the eternal night

like helps merlin re-defeat and re-seal morgana

he’ll do it again in few weeks but with a bigger role you know, this is practice

thank merlin for that edge YOU ARE THE LAST TROLLHUNTER YOU ARE VICTORIOUS YOUVE GOT GUNMARS HEAD IN YOUR HANDS HAHAHA

but now you’ve got to go to new jersey

douxie’s been instructed to stay in arcadia tho 🥺

it’s okay, you’ll see each other again soon

sooner than you realize

and until then you talk each other to sleep every night over the phone <3

merlins glad, actually. he’s glad hisirdoux found some solace. even if it is with the lamb he was raising for the slaughter. maybe things will go okay for them. the time map suggests it might be so

hisirdoux may have done things in a way he didn’t quite approve of, but that’s because he’s becoming his own wizard, and merlin is proud

[tittytania]

Finding ChristBorg: A TED talk about what happened during the Coldharbour Compact.

Reposted from my tes reddit bc I want to see what y’all think.

I can't tell if I'm a genius, completely insane, or if I'm just late to the lore-party. Time to find out I guess. TL;DR at the bottom.

So it has never been explained what Sotha Sil did during the Coldharbour Compact to convince the daedric princes to not manifest on Nirn without an intermediary, and it probably never will be since the mystery of it all is far too cool. But that doesn't mean I can't read into it like literature and look for meaning in the other texts I can compare it to.

To start, Vivec is based off of the Shakta variation of the half female/half male Ardhanarishvara, where the gold-skinned female half is the right side. Both Vivec and Ardhanarishvara represent unity and duality, and looking at some images of Ardhanarishvara, it's kinda hard to argue that Vivec wasn't based off of them. Kirkbride even confirmed that Ardhanarishvara was the inspiration for Vivec in an AMA. Now, Vivec is part of the god trio the Almsivi Tribunal, along with Almalexia and Sotha Sil. Shiva, who Ardhanarishvara is the avatar of, is also part of a god trio, called the Trimurti in Hinduism. So it would make sense if the other members of the tribunal are also based off of one member of a real world religious triad. I have a shaky idea of who Almalexia could be, but my theory for her god-inspiration is nowhere near as solid as my theory for Sotha Sil, who I believe is based on Jesus Christ.

To start, their characterizations have multiple similarities. Both are one branch of a god-triad, with Sotha Sil as part of the Tribunal, and Jesus as The Son in the Holy Trinity. Both serve as a teacher, with Jesus being referred to as Teacher several times in the Bible, and Sotha Sil giving lessons on magic and Mysticism to the Psijic Monks. Also, both are characterized as wise, patient, and celibate. They both talk about moral and philosophical concepts with their followers, neither Jesus nor Sotha Sil are shown as having a temper or raising their voices, and neither of them are shown with a spouse or partner. Sotha Sil is specifically shown as not caring about the Night Mother's attempts to sexually manipulate him in book seven of 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Now I know that 2920 is considered a work of historical fiction in-universe, but I don't think that matters in this situation since I'm approaching this as a person reading a text, not as a person living inside the lore world.

In terms of specific scenes that connect Sotha Sil and Jesus, the first I will mention is that they both use a makeshift whip to beat intruding wrongdoers and drive them away, while yelling about fathers. In the Truth in Sequence vol. 8 book, it says that "[t]hrough His will alone, Mighty Seht wound the veins (of metal ore) into god-bronze whips, and lashed the Prince pitilessly," saying "[b]ehold the wrath of lost Ald Sotha! Know death at my hands, false-son of a false-father!" In the Bible, Jesus found people doing sales in a place of worship, and then He "made a whip of cords, (and) He drove them all out of the temple," saying “Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” (John 2 15-16).

Also, Jesus had close friends and followers who were called his apostles, and Sotha Sil has his own Clockwork Apostles. Sil's apostles reside in the Clockwork Basilica, and while basilica isn't an exclusively Christian term, it is frequently used to describe a type of church architecture, and is a term the pope uses to recognize distinguished churches.

Another similarity that I found was in the plot of Morrowind, where Sotha Sil's death was caused at the hands of Almalexia, who was someone he had once loved and trusted, much like with Jesus and Judas.

The most notable life similarity as it relates to the Coldharbour Compact is that both leave the earthly world in order to make a deal for the benefit of the souls on earth, and then return to the earthly world. This parallel is given extra weight with the descriptions of the scene in the book 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Sotha Sil returns from Coldharbour by way of someone "rolling aside the great boulder that blocked the entrance to the Dreaming Cavern. This sounds a lot like the scene in the bible of the discovery that Jesus had risen from the dead, where "an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door" (Matthew 28:2). In addition, Jesus said "after He is killed, He will rise [on] the third day," (Matthew 17:23) and after Sotha Sil returned from Coldharbour, he "felt he had been away for months, years, but only a few days had transpired." Perhaps it had been 3?

In addition to the life and behavior similarities, there are similarities in dress. In the 2920 book, Sotha Sil is always described as wearing a white robe or cloak. In ESO, Sotha Sil is shown as barefoot, and wearing a blue sash over his long white robe. In medieval and renaissance art, Jesus is most always depicted as barefoot, and is frequently shown with a blue cloth over his shoulder. In most resurrection art, as well as in almost all 20th/21st century art, Jesus is depicted as dressed in white. While Jesus usually isn't usually shown wearing both the blue sash and the white robe at once like Sotha Sil is, I found one modern interpretation of Jesus that does dress him this way, and several depictions of him in Chinese art that also portray him like this.

I'm feeling almost conspiratorial here, but these similarities are far too many for me to think it's accidental, and therefore I have to think that all of this is meant to suggest that Sotha Sil serves a Christ-figure role in his story, i.e. in sacrificing own life like Jesus did in order to make his deal in the Coldharbour Compact. However I don't think Sil's sacrifice was quite so simple. After he is asked what he offered the Daedra in return for the deal, he states: "The deals we make with Daedra... [s]hould not be discussed with the innocent." This implies that in contrast to the Christ mythos, Sil's sacrifice was not blameless; he did not come out of the deal with his hands clean.

So, a Christ-like sacrifice that isn't quite as pure and selfless as it is in Christianity. What could that be?

My theory is that in order to make the Coldharbour Compact, he sold the lives of Vivec and Almalexia along with his own. Perhaps he told the princes that he knew the tribunal's godhood would end, and in exchange for their cooperation he promised not to tell the other tribunes or make any attempt to prevent his and his companions' demise. (After all, as far as I know he made the mechanical heart for keeping his city functional, not for recreating the divinity the heart of Lorkhan provided.) Or, maybe he offered to do something to assist in bringing the Tribunal down, and losing Sunder and Keening, the tools that helped them maintain their divinity, was intentional on his part. Sil deliberately sacrificing his own life appears to be reflected in Azura's statement after his death. She said "he shed his mortality long ago, and I am certain his death was no small relief to him." Of course she'd know that he let go of his life ages ago if he had willingly sold it to her. Of course she would be certain that he found his death to be a relief, if she'd heard him say so himself when he was explaining why a god would ever offer such a deal.

It would also make sense with Sotha Sil's character, since he allegedly loved the people on Nirn more than Almalexia or Vivec did, and the destruction of Gilverdale could have definitely been a traumatic enough reminder of the destruction of Ald Sotha for him to do something dramatic to prevent it ever happening again. And guilt over sacrificing his friends could have definitely been a contributing factor to the worsening self-isolation and intense depression in his later life. It would also be a definite explanation for why he apparently never met another soul in the 10 years between losing the tools and his death. Not only had he become extremely disillusioned with the imperfections of the world, he had now finalized the deal he made so long ago, and saw no point in continuing to interact with a deeply flawed world he was essentially finished with.

However, I do see some issues with this and how it would work in-universe. Namely the fact that Hermaeus Mora's seekers said the prince received something from every individual on Nirn as part of the deal, which is quite different from what I'm suggesting. A different deal for each prince would also explain why Sil was able to include Clavicus Vile and Mephala in the compact at a much later date. There would be no reason for Vile and Mephala to submit to a collective deal whose terms had already been decided. So if he offered the tribunal's lives as part of the deal, he would have needed to offer other things as well. But for me the most significant in-universe issue I struggled with was that using his death as a bargaining tool would create a massive problem for his ability to enforce the deal in the future. This could explain why both Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon manifested on Nirn after Sotha Sil's death, but since I think they were summoned by qualified mortals that could have been a loophole. Either way, making a deal that is meant to last forever by promising something that can never be taken back in the case of a breach of contract seems extremely short-sighted for someone who claims to be cursed with certainty. Especially considering how many of the princes there were known to be cheats and liars.

Unless, that is, you believe this theory I read about the reason why Sil was completely silent as he was killed. My original belief was that he was silent because he'd seen it coming long ago, and knew that nothing he could have said would have changed Almalexia's mind. And while that would be in character for him, now I'm starting to think that it was because he had already uploaded his consciousness elsewhere. This would fit in with the Christ-figure parallels, due to the Christian belief that Jesus is risen from the dead and very much alive. While Jesus returned to life at the same time he emerged from the cave, the completion of Sotha Sil's death sacrifice didn't happen until long after his return via the cave. While I have found no explicit evidence that he's still around, when you find his body in Morrowind he is shown hanging, with his arms outstretched at his sides, in a sort of crucifixion pose. And after the crucifixion comes the resurrection. Perhaps Sotha Sil is still around somewhere in the gears of his city, and he promised the princes he'd never be present or have any influence on Nirn so long as they kept up their end of the deal. Additionally, the 37th sermon of Vivec mentions Sotha Sil as holding "his swollen belly," carrying "[his] daughter." While Vivec's sermons are hardly ever literal, Kirkbride's comments suggest that maybe Vivec was being somewhat literal in this instance. Regarding this concept art, Kirkbride said "note the cosmic baby growing inside Sotha Sil. While Sotha Sil is dead as we saw in the add-on pack “Tribunal”, the child survived." Perhaps one of Sotha Sil's many body modifications made him able to carry and birth a child, and then he created a daughter through self-cloning or some other method that allows him to have enough influence to enforce the compact.

TL;DR - Sotha Sil has a lot of similarities with Jesus, so he's a Christ figure and therefore his sacrifice in the Coldharbour Compact was himself, and Almalexia and Vivec too, and that also means that he may still be around.

Anyways, thanks for reading and sorry if this sounds like I'm putting red strings on a wall as my application essay to the r/SothaSimps fan club. Also, lmk if I'm missing anything obvious. For me right now Reading Lore On The Bedroom Floor is a bit more manageable than playing the games, and there may be something I've just completely looked over.