#because they are very very fascinating to me and i think the game did better with plot buildup albeit worse with character emotion

[violexides]

last night i finished my "rewatch" of SDR2 and i do have a lot of thoughts specifically when comparing the different strengths and weaknesses of THH and SDR2 however for the sake of time (i have to leave for class soon) one thing i will say is that getting older and a hiatus did not, in fact, make me any less in love with komaeda nagito's character.

[heeseungiez]

RESOLUTION 2) not be a virgin anymore...

pairings! sim jake x fem!reader; mentions of heeseung x reader

synopsis! sim jake has always liked you, but as heeseung’s best friend, he felt weird trying to talk to you. now, with the rules around you loosening, jake refuses to miss his chance to win you over.

content warnings! smut (mdni! 18+), swearing, blowjob, loss of virginity and other smut things but it’s pretty mild

word count! ~8.4k

taglist! OPEN! send an ask to be added!

a/n! i did my best… i hope you guys like it

masterlist | next

Good morning, Decelis!

What’s up with you guys? Things have been really boring these days.

XO, Miss Decelis

You wanted to kill Lee Heeseung.

It had been a month since your shared moment at the party, but you were still dealing with the aftermath, having to wear turtlenecks or bother with makeup to cover the hickeys he gave you. You hated it. The reminder of what you had done and with whom. You hated the way he would smirk upon seeing you in class, in the hallways, or whenever you ran into each other at the hotel — you weren’t even safe at the place that should be your home.

Lee Heeseung was everywhere, as far as you were concerned. You were convinced that not only could he find you anywhere if he wanted to, but he could appear from behind a corner at any moment simply to taunt you with his presence. He didn’t even need to speak to annoy you.

This — whatever game the two of you were playing — was far worse than when he did everything in his power to annoy you. Because now, all you could think about was how it would feel to actually lose your virginity to him. You wondered if it would have happened at the party, had you not been interrupted.

You scoffed when Heeseung sat down in class in front of you. You could see the lopsided grin on his lips through the back of his head. But neither of you said a word to each other. Because, despite everything, Heeseung was still keeping his reputation of a careless asshole who ignored you at school (you were the only person noticing the subtle actions that revealed he was doing the very opposite).

On the other hand, when Sim Jake walked past you to join Heeseung at the same desk, he didn’t do so before shooting you a huge grin and saying: “Hello, Y/N. How are you doing today?”

Within the group of Heeseung, Jay and Jake, the latter was the only one who didn’t blatantly disregard you before last summer. He always made time for small talk with you, approaching you at random events whenever he noticed you were alone. He was nice, in your opinion. His only downside was the fact that his best friends were Heeseung and Jay, really. Layla, his dog, almost made up for that fault in his character though.

“Hey,” you responded with a thin-lipped smile, incapable of resisting the boyish charm that Sim Jake embodied. “I’m good. Just tired.”

“Oh yeah. Assignments have been pretty killer lately,” Jake agreed, running a hand through his hair. Heeseung glanced between the two of you, squinting his eyes. “There’s a project I gotta finish for physics, and it’s been the worst. Like, I love the subject but, jeez, Mr Kang is totally doing his best to make me hate it.”

“Maybe you’d do better if you didn’t spend all your time talking about holes.” Heeseung’s innuendo was not lost on either of you, but Jake was fairly unbothered by it, shaking his friend off with a roll of his eyes.

“Maybe if you weren’t so ignorant, you’d know black holes are one of the most fascinating topics in physics,” Jake said matter-of-factly. “So excuse me if I’d rather have a presentation on that.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips at seeing Jake so bothered over physics. He might not look like it with his never-faltering flirtatious smile and those big puppy eyes, but there was clearly a nerdy side to the boy that you had never known about before. You liked this about him — you liked this change in him of finally approaching you more freely, too.

Jake’s eyes were fixated on you, drinking in your soft laugh and your new appearance.

See, Sim Jake always thought that you were pretty. Even when Heeseung and Jay seemed unimpressed, he always stopped to appreciate you. He just wasn’t sure how exactly to act around you when his friends’ feelings toward you were much different than his. But lately, they stopped complaining about every little thing you did (frankly, Jake thought they were obsessed with you and in denial since middle school). To Jake, that meant he could finally talk to you without the fear of being overly judged by his closest friends. Even now, when he spoke to you, Heeseung didn’t look as disapproving as he would’ve last year. He just minded his business on his phone aside from the few snide remarks.

“I think I’ll miss out on that one,” you said with a slight shake of your head.

It wasn’t a secret that you were not a fan of anything natural science related. Maths was your limit. Your preference lied within humanities, like sociology and psychology. The reasoning behind it was perhaps far too obvious, but you liked to pretend that you simply enjoyed learning about human behaviours, and why people acted the way they did.

Like with Jake, who had always been a bit apprehensive around you, especially when Heeseung and Jay were around. But Heeseung didn’t care anymore (if that’s what you could call it), and so Jake felt at ease speaking to you casually because he was abstained from judgement.

“That’s fine. We don’t really need to talk to have fun.” The suggestive tone made your brow raise, and when you glanced at Heeseung, the boy tensely gripped his pen. Turning his head to look at Jake, he narrowed his eyes.

From your point of view, it could be interpreted in many different ways, but you knew Heeseung could not possibly be jealous of Jake’s harmless flirting with you. It was a warning nevertheless, though, to leave you alone. Jake only understood the part where it was a warning, however, fearing that he might get an earful about it later.

He sat down, still glancing at you with another shiny smile of his, and you returned it.

“Good morning, class,” the C1 English teacher, Miss Crawford, entered the class with a stack of worksheets and files in her arms. The class stood to greet her with a bow, and she motioned for them to sit down with a smile. “Let us not dally, shall we?” she asked, giving the stack of sheets to the students closest to her to pass them on. “Each of you should keep one. Look at it, and while you do, I will prepare the instructions on the board.”

The sheet didn’t have much on it, when you got one of your own. It was mostly blank aside from the few topics on top. You recognised them as conversation topics from the textbook you got for this class.

“For the next hour, the task at hand is fairly simple,” Miss Crawford began speaking once the board was lit up with her simple presentation. “As you all know, speaking is one of the many parts of the C1 level English exams to acquire a certificate, and for today, we will focus on exactly that. Talking about a specific topic and the flow of conversation between two people. In C1 level exams, it isn’t only important to be fluent and have expansive vocabulary on your own. The reason behind the speaking exams being in pairs is to test the speaker’s ability to stop themselves from talking and give the other person the room to speak as well by asking follow-up questions.

“For that reason, I have paired all of you up on my own rather than letting you converse in pairs of your own choosing. It is better to test your abilities with someone you aren’t entirely comfortable with to help your sociability and further your chances at scoring full points in conversation.”

Miss Crawford shuffled through her papers to find the sheet that contained the pairs she assigned. The first person she looked at was you, gracing you with a smile. “I also took into account your English skills as a whole to make balanced pairs for today’s lesson. So the first pair would be Miss Y/N and Mr Sim,” she announced.

Jake turned to you instantly, sporting the look of an excited puppy. No one else mattered after that, except for Jake who moved to sit down next to you.

You barely registered it when Miss Crawford spoke again with more information. “By the end of the class, I hope you’ll get more comfortable with each other, as at the end of the term, I am going to conduct a speaking exam of my own to see if you’re making progress. For that reason, pairings are subject to change, however, I do want you and your initial partners to continue working together on other projects for the remainder of this term. That is why I cared about the balance in each pair, to make sure neither would end up doing all the work.”

The glance at Heeseung was obvious and, in your opinion, quite scathing. You enjoyed watching him squirm with the tiniest bit of guilt in his expression under Miss Crawford’s gaze. His partner for the project was Kim Seungmin, and you actually couldn’t believe how well acquainted the teacher was with all of your English skills. There had to be so much work outside of school going into all this planning. Not to mention, if anything, Kim Seungmin would never let anything slide, let alone having to do an entire project for Heeseung. He was the type of guy to rather have them both fail.

Jake, although listening to everything that was said, kept staring at you and your beautiful features. The way your hair framed your face. A few strands of hair kept falling into your eyes and he wanted to push it away. Something about this new you was so irresistibly alluring to him that all he could think about was how it would feel to kiss your red-stained lips.

If he had the tiniest bit of a crush on you in the past, then it’s come back tenfold now. He wanted to test how much of you has truly changed. Whether you would accept him now despite being nothing like his other friends. He wasn’t like Heeseung or Jay, the careless kings of the school, and neither was he like Sunghoon, the hot scholarship kid who could figure skate.

Jake was just Jake. The guy who had a whole room dedicated to his collection of expensive Lego and his powerful PC setup to play video games.

Sure, he had hooked up with girls in the past — he was just a guy, after all — but he didn’t want you to be one of those girls. He knew that if he was going to have you, it would have to be something more. He would cherish you and make sure that you were never hurt again (a promise he can’t really keep).

And he’d fuck you so good.

“Let’s start then.” You turned toward Jake to fully face him with a smile on your face. “All of these topics are absolutely ass, but at least they’re standardised.” You spoke, oblivious to the thoughts running through Jake’s mind.

Perhaps for now, it was better that way.

Working on a presentation with Jake was the easiest thing in the world. This was genuinely the first time you took a class and didn’t end up doing all the work on your own because you were the ‘perfect princess’ and ‘teacher’s pet’ who cared about a good grade. And even if your groups did some of the work, it was the worst, least effort possible, type of contribution known to man. So when Jake kept hitting you with ideas about what you could do in your presentation, what could be said, adding more pages to your research, you couldn’t help the incessant need to just plant your lips on his to show your appreciation.

And a part of you thought: you could do exactly that. The library was empty enough with the two of you being among the last students still bothering to stay there. Besides, you noticed the way Jake looked at you. In a way, it was more innocent than whenever you caught Heeseung staring at you, but you knew that the thoughts were all the same.

“I’m tired,” Jake whined, leaning back in his chair to stretch his arms and legs on the seat. “My fingers hurt. Let’s take a short break,” he said, catching the soft smile on your lips.

“We could just go home, Jake,” you pointed out, tapping the screen of your phone to show him the time as if you both didn’t have your laptops open for research.

“I don’t feel like going home yet, though.” Jake licked his lips, shaking his head.

“You like spending time with me that much, huh?” You grinned teasingly, but the genuine look on Jake’s face momentarily shut you up.

“Kinda, yeah,” he replied, tilting his head to the side. “Being with the other guys is still the same thing over and over again. You know how annoying it is whenever they start complaining about their sex lives?” Jake shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Like, I’m not against having a good fuck but they act like they don’t hit it at least once a week.”

“TMI, Jakey,” you said, raising a brow at him. But then something occurred to you, and you wanted to know more. “They complain? What exactly about?”

“Well, Heeseung’s been pretty frustrated lately because, apparently, there’s a girl he wants but she doesn’t want him.” Jake shrugged, completely unaware of what information he was giving you.

You had to suppress your smirk at the thought of Lee Heeseung possibly being frustrated over you. Though his sex life had hardly been boring since the party because Miss Decelis has been diligently reporting on all of his spotted escapades, which included him not-so-discreetly getting out of an empty classroom with some girl from senior year recently.

“Interesting,” you hummed.

“Jay’s been getting shit since fucking a MILF, so yeah…” Jake continued with a shake of his head. “Says all the girls at school are too soft for him, whatever the fuck that means.”

“We both know what that means,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Jake, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’d rather not.”

“Fair.” You nodded, leaning on your elbow as you stared at Jake. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you hooked up with someone recently?” you asked, biting your lip. His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips, and then back up with a gulp.

The way Jake’s cheeks instantly heated up was adorable. He was far from innocent (Miss Decelis knowledge), but he was easily taken off guard, and you liked to take advantage of it.

“Pretty sure it’d be Miss Decelis hot news if I did,” he said.

“Not everyone is caught, Jake,” you pointed out with a lazy smile, moving closer. You doing the flirting was perhaps the most unlikely thing in the world, but you liked discovering this new side of yourself.

“Most of the time, they are,” Jake spoke sagely.

“But we don’t have to be,” you said confidently, leaning in close enough to feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. “I know a well hidden spot in the library,” you added, not divulging further (the only reason you had the secret spot was to hide, back in the days).

“Y/N—” Jake wasn’t sure how to react. On one hand, he absolutely wanted this. But on the other, he was confused as to why. His goal was to possibly make you fall in love with him and this was most certainly not a part of the plan. Not yet, anyway.

You mistook the confusion in his eyes for rejection. Pulling away from him, you pressed your lips into a thin line, cringing in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I suppose you don’t—”

You didn’t finish the sentence with Jake pulling at your wrist to make your lips collide with his. Yours melded into his perfectly, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip in a silent question for permission, and you granted it eagerly, enjoying the heat that consumed your insides as Jake kissed you with fervour.

He had a dream like this once. Actually, he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t dreaming now, having fallen asleep after all the work you two had been doing.

But then you pulled away from Jake, eyes glassy with lust, and you tugged at his hand innocently, like you two were in kindergarten and you wanted to show him the new toy you got for your birthday. Except when Jake let you lead him away from your table, it was to your secret spot. A place entirely covered by shelves with books at the back of the library — the part of it that nobody ever visited unless they were desperate.

You pushed him against the closest wall, planting your lips on Jake’s again, and he reciprocated it gratefully, his fingers tangling in your soft hair. His dick was already hard for you, and you had barely done anything. It was obvious when you leaned into him, and there was something you wanted to try.

Jake whimpered when your lips left his, and his eyes grew wide when you dropped to your knees without warning, undoing the belt of his trousers. “Y/N, what are you—”

You stopped your action mid-pulling his pants down to look up at him. “Jake, if you don’t want this—”

“No, no, no, no, I want this. Of course, I want this, I’ve always wanted this.” He shook his head, breathless and in disbelief over your figure kneeling in front of him.

“Always? That’s a strong word,” you said, a smirk plastered on your lips. But you were curious. So when you pulled down Jake’s trousers and boxers, letting his dick out, you stopped to stare. Mind you, you’ve never seen a dick up close before. This was your first time, and his was majestic. “Define always, Jakey.” You licked your lips at the precum on his tip and kept yourself from leaning in to kiss it.

“Since I met you.” With the air hitting his length, he was growing impatient. He wanted your warm mouth wrapped around it as soon as possible, but you were obviously not going to indulge him until your curiosity was satiated. “I always thought you were cute when we were kids. And then we started high school, and you were beautiful. Remember that time I didn’t approach you at all and you thought Heeseung and Jay got to me? Yeah, I was just scared of talking to you… and then… I mean now… you’re—”

“Hot?” Your brow lifted, and Jake nodded, breathless.

“More than that. You’re ethereal, Y/N.”

“Damn, you really want this.” You giggled, but nothing stopped you from finally kissing Jake’s tip, listening to the pornographic moan that left his mouth at the slightest contact with your tongue. It urged you further, wrapping your mouth around him fully to test the waters and how well he fit in your mouth.

He tasted delicious.

This had to be Jake’s weakest moment. You barely touched him, and he already wanted to cum. But he knew the sight of you with your mouth full of his cum would make for a memory that would last him a lifetime.

You were testing yourself and your limits as you pushed his dick deeper into your throat until you could barely breathe, tears welling in your eyes. But it wasn’t enough, your hands would still have to do the rest. This was a learning experience for you, so after having a few more tastes of Jake, you pulled away to look up at him properly. To see his ruined expression as he still fought the confusion within him with pleasure.

“If I do anything wrong, please tell me,” you whispered, your hand moving to take Jake’s length, stroking a few times. “I’ve never done this before. So let me know, okay?”

Jake could barely speak as his eyes latched onto you, but he nodded regardless. He wanted to say you weren’t doing anything wrong nor were you going to. And he whimpered when he could feel the warmth of your mouth around him again. Though this time, you also incorporated your hand, moving in the same rhythm as your mouth to take care of whatever was too much for you.

“Oh, fuck, yes, Y/N,” Jake breathed out the longer you went on, saliva coating his dick and your fingers. He dug his nails into your hair, but didn’t push, letting you move freely. You didn’t even need him to tell you anything. “You’re perfect,” he managed between moans as he felt the tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat.

His hips moved along with you, and Jake wanted to hold out for as long as possible to make the most of his pleasure and whatever the hell was going on right now.

Your free hand began playing with his balls, and that started to be too much for him. When you palmed him, he wanted to scream your name for the whole library to hear him, but he couldn’t do that. “I’m close, Y/N, holy fuck, just let me—” He wanted to finish outside your mouth just in case, but you didn’t let him go, staring up at him while your lips were still wrapped around his cock, going up and down.

There was silence as Jake interpreted your look. That you wanted to take him, taste all of him. And when he did cum, he had to bite his lip hard to contain himself while you swallowed every bit of his essence, having the most innocent look on your face while he pumped into you to ride out his high.

You concluded doing this was fun. You liked it. You loved the sounds that left Jake’s mouth, trying to be fairly quiet, and you loved the taste of him.

You didn’t expect Jake to drop down to his knees just to capture your lips with his again, tasting himself on your tongue. He cupped both your cheeks, pulling you as close to him as possible.

“I want you so bad, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin, his lips peppering your face with kisses. He went from your lips to your nose, your eyes, your cheeks, your chin and down, to your neck which (thank god) no longer had the marks of your encounter with Heeseung. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“You could show me, ah,” you moaned when Jake latched onto an especially sensitive spot, sucking on the skin.

“Not here, though,” Jake said, looking around. As stated before, your spot was hidden well, but the last thing Jake wanted to do right now was to debauch you in a corner of a library. No, for what he wanted to do, he needed a bed. “Let’s go to my house when my parents aren’t there.”

“And when will that be?” You grabbed at Jake’s T-shirt when his lips returned to yours.

“I’ll text you,” Jake replied in between kisses. You smiled.

Why hadn’t you thought of this before? Sim Jake was the most perfect of all the perfect candidates you could have to lose your virginity to.

Heeseung wasn’t stupid.

He saw the lingering glances between you and Jake every time you were in the room. He knew something happened between the two of you, and he did not like the idea of it, whatever it was. It was on purpose, when he said: “Anyone know what Y/N’s been up to lately?”

“No. Why?” Jay’s response was immediate, glaring at Heeseung. “Why do you even care?”

“It was just a question, dude. Miss Decelis is shit ass at reporting about her aside from that one vid of her with Yeonjun,” he said, shrugging. That memory still infuriated him.

“Dude, as far as we know, she’s still a virgin and it might be better for her to keep it that way.” Jay shook his head. He cringed at the mention of the local gossip, as she had recently been viciously attacking Jay’s character and pride for the past month.

Heeseung nodded, glancing in Jake’s direction. He was chewing on his bottom lip in thought, but if there was anything that action told Heeseung, it was that Jake had not slept with you.

Good.

“There’s no reason for you to care anyway.” Sunghoon raised a brow at him. “Unless you’re secretly in love with her or something.”

“Piss off.” Heeseung scoffed, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t in love with you. He just… thought of you often. And the night he almost had you if the other guys didn’t appear. In his mind, he was convinced that he could fuck thoughts of you out of his system (except none of those girls were you and he was acutely aware of that). It also led to way too many posts about him on Miss Decelis.

“See, I don’t get why you guys don’t like her so much. She’s nice.” Sunghoon shrugged.

“You’re also obliged to say that because your whole figure skating career is sponsored by her dad’s money,” Jay noted matter-of-factly. It was how you and Sunghoon knew each other even before he got into the Academy on a scholarship (upon a recommendation from your father).

Sunghoon made a face, sticking his tongue out at him. “Cry about it.”

“Why should I? You’re the one suffering,” Jay replied, but the insult to your person was half-hearted, an automatic response.

Neither Heeseung nor Jay were as opposed to you as before. It was a pointless fight regardless as it would be two on two. Though Jake hadn’t said a word yet. Instead, the boy’s focus was on his phone as he feverishly typed his heart away.

Heeseung glared at Jake in hopes of getting his attention, but the blond was too far in his own world, grinning at the screen like a maniac.

You.

He was texting you, Heeseung was more than sure of it, and he had half a mind to snatch the phone from Jake’s hands to (1) see what you two were talking about and (2) to block all your contacts from Jake’s accounts to make sure you couldn’t reach him. Because no sane man would smile so brightly at his phone over some stupid texts.

You had Jake wrapped around your little finger, and Heeseung didn’t know how to stop it from happening. You didn’t necessarily ignore Heeseung, but you definitely didn’t like him, and you really did not care about him pretending that he barely knew you. Not like you did before.

This version of you was so fucking annoying. Even more than before. Because not only could he not get you out of his head, but he knew his friends — and not only them — were all thinking the same. No matter how much Jay pretended, Heeseung noticed the way Jay would usually look around classrooms to make sure you were there and unharmed with a gentleness in his eye that was entirely uncharacteristic of him.

Heeseung could see the way Sunghoon’s eyes kept travelling to you, wanting to talk to you, but not finding the courage or the right words.

As for himself, Heeseung had a hard time dropping the image he had built over the years, so approaching you at school would make people talk, and at home, you wouldn’t even look his way despite visiting his family’s penthouse to see Jeonghyeon or whenever you two ran into each other in the building.

But Jake… it came naturally to him — talking to you. He had been talking to you since middle school, albeit trying to hide it from Heeseung and Jay. They knew anyway.

What was Heeseung going to do about you?

There used to be a time in your life when all you ever wished for was to be invisible. But you don’t anymore. Not when being visible meant people seeing you talk to Choi Yeonjun..

“So, you do know that Heeseung’s, like, obsessed with you, right?” Yeonjun questioned with a raised brow. “I’ve been hearing people talk, and someone said he threatened a guy for talking about you.”

“He’s just being an asshole,” you said plainly, rolling your eyes. “Something about hating the sound of my name around the corridors since he already hears it enough at home or whatever it was he used to say.”

“Nah.” Yeonjun shook his head with a smirk. “See, I know I was out of it but I do remember us almost fucking so excuse me if I do believe Heeseung was jealous,” the boy’s tone was so casual it made you chuckle. It did bring back the memories of Heeseung’s fingers inside you, though, so you shifted on your feet to keep your attention on Yeonjun.

“Okay. So maybe he was jealous. But it was really none of his business. You yourself called him the guy who’s been ignoring me my whole life.” You crossed your arms, pressing your lips in a thin line.

“Yeah but that’s usually what idiots like him do when they’re scared they might actually start liking you.” Yeonjun shrugged. “But anyway, to further prove my point—” he threw his arms up in the air, making several wild gestures to make sure his statement was emphasised enough— “Whoever that dude was, apparently he talked about dicking you down or some shit, and Heeseung didn’t like that.”

“Obviously he wouldn’t,” you said and shook your head. “We grew up together. He doesn’t want to hear stuff like that.”

“You gotta trust me on this, darling. Bro’s jealous as fuck.” Yeonjun nodded vigorously. “My intuition about these things is never wrong. Trust.”

“I think he’d have stopped Jake from talking to me by now if that was the case,” you thought out loud. You may have not lost your virginity just yet, but that didn’t mean you and Jake didn’t find moments alone where you would practise your skill with giving head, or him showing you how adept he was with his mouth and his fingers.

You never realised it was that good to have your pussy eaten out. Jake was always ready to devour you whole, pushing his tongue into you as deep as he was physically capable before using his fingers to satisfy you. And all of this just because he found out you were a virgin and wanted to make sure your first time would be meaningful.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” Yeonjun chuckled, wiggling his brows suggestively. “I’m kinda hurt you didn’t ask me.”

You slapped Yeonjun’s shoulder. “I’m booked and busy, I fear. Next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that, darling.”

Good morning, Decelis!

I’ve been hearing rumours about Lee Heeseung threatening people over Y/N? What’s all this fuss about? Care to explain yourself, big guy?

XO, Miss Decelis

The video of Heeseung holding a boy’s collar, having pushed him against a wall should not have been so surprising to you. But it was hard to comprehend it. Heeseung had never been a violent type of guy. Usually, he would just have someone else do it for him. But the fact that it was over you?

Unthinkable.

One thing was to hear about it from Yeonjun, another was seeing it with your own two eyes, filmed and posted on social media.

“I called it! Your cousin is totally into our little Y/N,” Ning sang, holding onto her phone with the tweet open and playing while she looked at Jeonghyeon victoriously. “Always knew it…”

“That’s his problem.” Jeonghyeon rolled his eyes, bumping your shoulder with his. “He made sure to completely ruin his chances.”

“At least he’s hot, you know.” Ning shrugged. “It’s the genes or something,” she mumbled, watching Jeonghyeon smile at you, a single dimple adorning his cheeks.

“How are things with Jake going anyway?” he asked you.

“Dude,” you began, putting both your hands on the table for the dramatics. “He’s taking cooking classes for me. He said, and I quote ‘I want to make you dinner when you come over’ and I’ve been losing my mind over it since.”

“Holy shit, it’s that serious for him?” Jeonghyeon’s brow rose.

“Oh my gosh, dude’s in love with you already.” Ning giggled, excited for you. “He was really just holding it in this whole time huh?”

“To be fair, they always had a weird obsession with Y/N,” Jeonghyeon said matter-of-factly. “Even when they were being haters.”

“Jake never was,” you pointed out.

“Neither is Sunghoon,” Ning remarked. “He can’t hate her anyway. For reasons.” She shrugged, and you threw her a nasty eye.

“Obviously I’m only talking about Heeseung and Jay.” Jeonghyeon let out a frustrated sigh, glancing between you and Ning.

“That was not obvious at all,” Ning said.

“Yeah. What she said.”

“I— whatever.” Jeonghyeon ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey guys, what are you talking about?” Jake appeared at your side, sitting down on the bench that you were already sharing with Jeonghyeon. Smiling up at you, he nudged you with his shoulder.

“Oh, you know, the regular stuff,” Ning said, waving her hand. “Heeseung and Jay’s unhealthy obsession with Y/N and all that.” She did not care about who she was talking to in the slightest, grinning when she saw Jake’s discomfited look.

“What?” Jake tilted his head, and Ning raised her arms in defence.

“Don’t kill the messenger, please, Jeonghyeon brought it up first.”

Jeonghyeon glared at her. “I’m just saying that I’ve heard the two of them speak about Y/N more often than is necessary for two people who dislike her. That’s all,” he explained, having first-hand experience from living with Heeseung.

Jake blinked slowly before nodding. “I get what you mean,” he agreed, pursing his lips. “Remember when you first introduced Sunghoon to us?” The blond turned to you, waiting for your nod to continue speaking. “Heeseung and Jay literally pulled up a whole set of rules regarding you and how to act around you.”

“Huh?” You, Jeonghyeon and Ning chorused. None of you knew that.

“He didn’t go along with it, though. Sunghoon.” Jake clicked his tongue and shook his head. “But anyways, that’s not why I came here, actually. I wanted to ask if you wanna join me in the library to look over something I’ve been working on.” Looking at you expectantly, there wasn’t much for you to do but to say yes.

You thought it was code for a makeout session, but it turned out that Jake genuinely wanted to show you something.

“Look! I learned how to make cookies,” he spoke excitedly, showing you the box full of chocolate chip cookies with the largest grin on his lips, proud of himself and his creation. It looked and smelled delicious. “Give it a try, please. I’m still figuring out what to make for our day together this weekend.”

The warmth in your chest was an unexpected intruder, but you couldn’t stop the swelling in your heart caused by Jake’s sweetness. It made you even more angry with Heeseung about missing out on all this simply because Jake had a hard time defying the slightly older guys.

So you picked one and bit into it without hesitation, humming when the sweet taste hit your tongue, the cookie practically melting in your mouth. “Oh wow, holy shit, it’s so good,” you said, taking another bite.

Jake’s cheeks reddened, his smile growing. He tried to drive away his thoughts from wondering whether you would have a similar reaction to his cock inside of you. Totally inappropriate thoughts to have while he was trying to be wholesome. “I had some help from my friend Felix, though. I’m really glad you like them.”

“I don’t just like them, Jake. I love them. Holy fuck, I could eat these forever.” You were already reaching for another cookie, which made Jake laugh softly at how adorable you looked.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and you giggled, finishing a bite of his homemade cookies.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, leaning in.

It completely slipped your mind that you were not at your secret place in the library, but a very public part of it.

Good morning, Decelis! I’m officially not bored anymore.

We have Lee Heeseung fighting guys for stepping out of line when speaking about Y/N, and now this? Sim Jake, one of Heeseung’s best friends, was spotted kissing her in the library! Scandalous.

I love it.

XO, Miss Decelis

Sim Jake liked to think he was a confident guy. But suddenly, he couldn’t stop sweating. He had to constantly wipe his hands on his sweatpants when he prepared the table for you, and he worried that you might not like what he cooked. Though the meal was simple. He made ramen with grilled pork belly and a spicy sauce to go along with it because you had mentioned liking it when food had a little kick to it. So he made a sauce by mixing gochujang, soy sauce, gochugaru, a bit of sugar and lemon juice.

Even after two whole cooking lessons from a chef his parents liked, Jake still felt a little lost. But! The kitchen did not burn down, so he deemed it a huge success.

He wanted this day to be perfect for you.

He wasn’t sure why he cared so much, but he just abhorred the idea of you losing your virginity in some random person’s bedroom at a party, or even in the library or an empty classroom where sitting atop a table or a drawer or a bookshelf wasn’t entirely comfortable. Maybe after your first time, but not now.

You deserved better.

When you arrived, your dress was not casual. It was a satin slip-on that entirely revealed your back and wrapped around your neck with a thin strap to hold the fabric over your breasts. You weren’t wearing a bra, and your nipples were visible through the thin fabric, already making Jake wish he could wrap his lips around them.

He didn’t even have enough space in his mind to think about the fact he was severely underdressed in his grey sweatpants and white T-shirt. You didn’t care, though, because all you saw was Jake’s pretty face and your surroundings — the house he grew up in.

It was very light and nowhere near the minimalistic bullshit your parents liked to pull. Instead, the walls of the hallway were lined in photo frames. Pictures of Jake, of his dog Layla, his childhood drawings as well as diplomas from competitions he had won before. It was basically Jake’s hall of fame.

“Please, just ignore it. Let’s go to the kitchen,” Jake said, biting his lip. “My parents are gone for the weekend, and Layla should be napping outside at the moment, so the house is all ours.”

“Sounds good.” You smiled, anticipation coursing through your whole body.

This was it. The big day.

With Sim Jake, who you were starting to care about more than you thought you would. But, figuratively speaking, despite your recent descent into the darkness, you were inexplicably drawn to his light.

He led you to the dining room which had the whole table set up for two with candles and a flower vase in the middle, a pot of ramen and a plate with grilled pork belly to be shared between you.

“Jake, this is—”

“I know it might seem a bit excessive, but I really want this to be special for you,” the blond said, running a hand through his hair while chewing on his bottom lip. You grabbed his hand in yours and smiled brightly.

“It’s stunning, Jake. Thank you for all this,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I’m sure it’s going to be really good as well.”

Jake nodded. He pulled out a chair for you to sit on before seating himself next to you, and neither of you hesitated to dig into the food. As hungry as you were, the empty feeling in your stomach was not due to the lack of food in it.

Watching Jake grab the first piece of pork belly and dip it in the red sauce, you did not expect him to offer it to you, but your eyes softened and you accepted the piece into your mouth. The meat was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, and the sauce had a spicy kick to it with sweetness and a citrusy taste spreading on your tongue. You hummed, closing your eyes to savour the taste.

It was almost unreal. This whole scene of you and Jake eating and talking casually, knowing what was to come. He was such a good cook it drove you insane. And you’d eaten at the best rated restaurants in the country before.

“Thank you, Jake,” you said after the meal was over, and without thinking much about your next actions, you planted your lips onto his, wrapping your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He kissed you back eagerly, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before biting on it, drawing a whimper out of you. You let him take the lead, putting his hands on your waist to bring you closer. Your whole body felt warm under his touch. His hands slid down your body to your bare thighs, and then underneath your dress to harshly grasp your ass. You gasped in surprise, and Jake smirked into the kiss, pulling away from you.

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he whispered into your ear, his voice a low groan, and the heat that pooled from your stomach to your crotch was nearly unbearable. Jake chuckled when you kept shifting in place in hopes of getting some friction.

What you didn’t expect was Jake lifting you up to carry you bridal style. You yelped, your eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you, obviously,” he said nonchalantly, and you dared not fight him as he walked towards his bedroom, wherever it was because your mouth latched onto his neck, sucking on the soft skin. You enjoyed the little moans that left his mouth alongside his heavy breaths because he was clearly struggling by the end of the journey.

He never dropped you, though. Not until the only thing you could fall on was his overly expensive mattress with him on top of you. Jake didn’t stay away for long, already ridding himself of his T-shirt to straddle your lap.

He leant down to kiss you, and your hands automatically began roaming the plane of his flat stomach. He had to be working out, at least the tiniest bit. But those thoughts did not matter when Jake’s hands slid under your dress to firmly grip your thighs as he kissed his way down your body. He bit one of your nipples through the dress, and you let out a shaky moan, your hands holding onto any part of Jake.

You wanted to feel his mouth on your bare skin, but he had yet to let you take the dress off. Instead, he hooked his fingers on your lace panties and ripped them off without a single care in the world. (It was your favourite Victoria’s Secret piece.) “I’ll get you new ones, I promise,” he murmured when he looked up at you with his deep brown eyes.

He lifted your dress to reveal your pussy, his mouth latching onto the skin on the inside of your thighs, biting and sucking to tease you, knowing you wanted his lips somewhere else. But there was a devilish glint in his eye as he slowly progressed to the main course. His gaze never left yours, and you gripped the sheets of his bed tightly, preparing yourself for what was to come.

“Just say the magic words, baby, and you can have it all,” he said, sensing your anticipation and the oncoming frustration.

“Please, Jake,” you whispered.

It was enough for his hot mouth to finally come in contact with your wet cunt, his tongue slowly circling your clit. You moaned, a wave of pleasure coursing through you, and Jake hummed at your taste, enjoying every little bit of it, sucking it in.

The sounds that left your pretty mouth were worth more than stars in the sky and enough to make Jake absolutely hard. He enjoyed the sweet taste of you as he tongue-fucked you, keeping your thighs apart to heighten every bit of pleasure you were getting out of this. Your back arched against his mouth, and he kept eating like a man starved, convinced that he would never get tired of you. Of this feeling of your pussy against his mouth, his fingers.

He waited so long to finally know what it would feel like to take you. But he had to make sure everything would be proper for you. That your first time would be so unforgettable he would ruin every other man for you. All of this was his selfish quest to have you for himself only.

And he knew half of his job was done when you came into his mouth, screaming his name and gripping his sheets. For now, he was the only man who knew what this was like. What it felt like to have you scream their name and fall apart for them.

He went in for a kiss afterward, which you reciprocated, tasting yourself. Smiling, he was already reaching into his drawer to pull out a single condom, to make this a safe experience for you. And you let him pull away from you to sit down at the edge of the bed.

It gave you an opportunity to finally take off the dress that was beginning to suffocate you, watching Jake shuffle out of his sweatpants, his cock springing out, looking as beautiful as ever. And you’d finally feel it inside you.

You never saw a man put a condom on before. Your gaze was a bit too intense, but Jake wasn’t bothered by it, grinning at you instead once he was done, noticing that your dress was off. His lips fell apart and his eyes widened as he drank in your bare figure and boobs. You were unreal. Perfect. And waiting for him.

You laid back down on the bed, your head hitting the satin pillows, and you invited Jake in with a soft smile, wiggling your index finger to beckon him over.

You didn’t have to ask twice before he was on top of you again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Make me yours, Jake,” you said, and he thought he might not be able to handle you after all. You bit your lip and moved your hands to his cock, to guide him to your heat as if it was his first time and not yours.

He hated how big of an effect you truly had on him. But he listened, he agreed. He wanted you to be his. So badly.

So he finally made the first push inside you, watching your face the entire time. You chewed on your lip as he slowly went deeper, holding in his own moan at your tightness. You felt so good around him. He could stay like this forever. But this wasn’t about him, and he kept checking on you.

“Is this okay?” Jake asked once his entire cock was buried inside of you, waiting for your body to adjust to him. You only managed to nod, your body moving closer to him. Placing his hands on your hips, he set a slow pace at first.

You whimpered, gripping onto his shoulders with enough strength for your nails to leave dents, but Jake didn’t mind.

Your brain was hazy from the slow movements. The pleasure was incomparable, tinged with the tiniest bit of pain as Jake’s dick moved in and out of your pussy. But the more comfortable it became for you, the less satisfied you were. “Jake,” you said in between moans, bringing his upper body closer to you. “Faster, please.”

It was a command that brought out something in Jake. Hearing you ask him to go faster did something to his brain chemistry, doing exactly what you asked for. His pace quickened, his pelvis hitting your clit relentlessly. It drove you insane how good it felt to have Jake inside of you, to share this moment with him.

A cacophony of skin against skin mixed with your moans echoed through the room. Jake couldn’t stop looking at you, examining every little change in your expression for any kind of discomfort when his movements became harsher, but the pleasure blinding you and your senses was far too intense for you to think of anything else. “You’re taking it like a good girl,” Jake murmured against the skin of your shoulder, and he almost lost his mind when your walls clenched around his dick.

“I think— god, Jake,” you cried out as he continued to repetitively hit the right spot. You clung onto his body like a leech. “I’m— I’m close.”

Jake’s pace remained the same, but he added his thumb, circling your clit to help your release, which came not long after, with you chanting Jake’s name like a spell meant to entrap him with you forever.

He cummed after a few more thrusts with your cunt so deliciously tight around him from the orgasm you were riding off. He planted his lips on yours when it happened, flipping the two of you over so you could be on top of him.

He wanted to sear the sight into his mind, your hair sticking to your sweat-covered face, messy from the pillows, and your lips swollen from how much you bit them.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” Jake let his orgasm-clouded brain run his mouth, and you smiled at him so brightly that it made him think the whole room lit up. But it was just you, really. And the fact that Jake was incredibly fucked up in the head because his heart could not stop beating in his ears.

And this was just the beginning.

Good morning, Decelis! A little birdie has shared something very interesting with me recently. Something that involves a certain princess and our resident Mr. Can’t-Live-A-Day-Without-Getting-My-Dick-Wet.

Oh yes, you’re reading that right. It seems that someone has spotted Y/N with Lee Heeseung doing some filthy things in the back of a car. How cute.

I wonder how old that photo is?

XO, Miss Decelis

tags! @strxwbloody @starsenha @mitmit01 @chaconadine

[calisources]

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences on this memes are taken from different sources of literature, television and media about enemies to lovers trope and enemies and lovers trope with some angst thrown into the mix. Change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit.

Does it hurt? Loving someone who can’t love you back?

Break his crown, break his throne, rip his monarchy apart.

What are we doing?

You are capable of making my blood boil like no one else, and yet I feel a magnetic pull I cannot explain.

It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand

Like whether you should kiss me or punch me.

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It’s disgusting, and I can’t stop.

You make me feel things that shouldn’t exist. 

Whatever this is, we should stop. I have been. . .compromised.

There’s a fine line between love and hate, and maybe we crossed it a long time ago.

I never thought I could detest someone so much, until the day I realized I was falling in love with you.

We may fight like enemies, but deep down, we both know that our hearts beat for each other.

You infuriate me, challenge me, drive me crazy, but damn it, at the end of the day, I can’t resist you.

It’s that tension that makes this so irresistible.

You’re like an addiction I can’t break free from, even if I wanted to.

You’re the thorn in my side, the fire in my veins, and I can’t help but crave your presence in my life.

Loving you feels like a dangerous game.

You infuriate me, yet you’re the only one who truly understands me.

You scare me to my core.

There’s no denying the fire that burns between us.

If any two men desire the same thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies.

I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other.

Tell me you don’t feel this between us. Look at me and don’t look away while saying it.

You claim me your enemy and yet, let me crawl into your bed every night.

You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires.

Do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you.

I did not asked for this. To be plagued by these feelings.

I tried to deny it for so long, but I don’t want to anymore.

Follow me around. Look at me as if you find me fascinating. Touch me, and say nice things to me. And then, you pull away as if you did nothing at all.

There’s no need for these games.

Well, you know that old saying, “Keep your friends close and make out with your enemies.

You read me wrong.  I wasn't trying to lead you on.

Is that all I am to you? A resource to be used in your scheme?

Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything more than you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time. But I just- I can't do it tonight, okay?

 You'll lay a man out for implying I'm a whore, but you keep calling me one to my face.

So, the only man that can have you is one who's already tried to kill you. That's logic.

It's like a little death. Several, in fact.

Oh Max, if you really hated Kyle you couldn't have slept with him.

So go on... kiss me... kill me... Do something.

I've often wondered what this moment would be like. Me... you tied up. 

Once this is over, we should really have angry sex.

Hate and love are not so very different things. Both are focused upon another. Both are intense. Both are passionate.

It just means you'd rather be with someone you hate... than be with me.

She's difficult and irritating, and she tries to hit me all the time.

We have a deal, what are you so afraid of?

Only I can hurt you this way. Only I can kiss you like this. 

You dragged me down and now I can’t quit you. 

This is the last time we do this.

Last night was also the last time. And yet, you keep coming back.

Better my mouth than my knife, right?

[hornedstorys]

POTA Caesar x reader - turning Page Part 1

It's been far too long since I've seen the films! It's time to change that! I hope you like the story anyway. And I have no idea how many parts this story will have. Maybe 2-3?

Warnings: sfw, very slight closeness, friends to lovers, slight angst, slow burn - english is not my native language

Content: You were Will's cousin and lived with him. You and Caesar grew up together and loved playing together. But you got older, feelings changed, just like events in the world.

German Version

When you heard the news from Will that he had rescued a baby chimpanzee, you almost died of curiosity. You really wanted to see the baby!

You were downstairs at the front door so quickly and pulled it open before Will could even think about putting his keys on.

"Where is he?" you asked hastily and Will laughed, then you noticed the box in Will's hands.

"Is it in there?" you were about to look for yourself, but Will just managed to block you and shook his head in amusement.

"Take it easy, (Y/n). Let me come in first, then I can introduce you to him."

Him? So he was a boy, you thought to yourself and followed Will into the kitchen. Your eyes followed the action excitedly. Then finally Will opened the box and a little chimpanzee appeared, blinking at Will and you with curious golden-green eyes.

You almost fainted at the sight of the baby. He was so cute! Carefully, the little one stretched out his tiny hands and with wide eyes you pushed your finger towards him. He accepted it gratefully.

"He's really cute! Is he going to stay?" you asked and Will nodded: "For now, yes. I couldn't possibly leave him in the lab." You nodded understandingly and didn't take your eyes off the little monkey.

"What's his name?" you asked and Will shrugged.

"Caesar," Will smiled and you looked at the little Ape with big kid eyes.

"Hello Caesar!"

It was amusing to watch Will trying to be a surrogate mother to little Caesar. You tried to help as much as you could, even though you were only ten years old. Still, you tried to help and take care of Charles, well at least you tried to talk to him and play games with Charles. But his Alzheimer's didn't get any better.

You felt so sorry for him and it seemed like it was getting worse every day. But you had no idea about the plans Will was making, you didn't even know what exactly was going on with Caesar and what the researchers in the lab were doing with the Apes, maybe you were just too young at the time to understand. You had fallen too much in love with the young Ape that you cared for so much that you only had thoughts for him. He was growing so fast and learning so quickly. It fascinated you.

With a heavy snort, Caesar let his breath slide against your neck. You giggled. You had just been playing tag, but Caesar was much faster than you.

"Stop it Caesar, it tickles!" the little monkey made happy noises. You sat with him at the dinner table. He was so clever, he had already understood how to drink from a bottle of milk when he was only one day old. Now he was nibbling on a few apples and looking at you with shining eyes.

Three years later, Caesar had learned to use the toilet. Which surprised and amused you at the same time. He got cheekier and started teasing you by breathing against your neck. He knew it tickled you. But then you had your moments where you tried to beat each other at chess.

He was always one step ahead of you, he always won. And sometimes, when you were lucky enough to win, you could see something in his eyes. Something mischievous, but also something gentle. He let you win on purpose. You really had the feeling that you were sitting in front of a human and not a monkey.

Will did tests with Caesar in between. He was just as fascinated by his intelligence and wanted to test it. You looked at the whole thing with a critical eye, because you saw from Will how the monkeys were treated in the laboratory and also how Caesar's mother Bright Eyes was killed. The monkeys were not seen as living beings, but as guinea pigs.

"This time I win," you growl, sitting opposite the monkey who looks at you mischievously. You had another game of chess and this time you thought you would finally win. You made your move and were so close to winning, but your hopes were dashed when Caesar made his move. Your mouth fell open and you almost fell off your chair.

"You've won again?" you shouted in disbelief and hit your forehead on the tabletop, not too hard of course. This monkey had now beaten you for the fifth time in an hour. He was so quick with his moves, while you took a little longer. Caesar grunted in amusement and you looked at him in offense. He was making fun of you, great.

Soon Will's girlfriend Caroline joined us. She had helped you with Caesar, she really knew a lot as she was a vet. You went for a walk together in the park with Caesar, Charles and Will. The young monkey really blossomed when he was out in nature and he wasn't even afraid of dogs. You soon found that out when Caesar snarled and stood up to a German shepherd who didn't even know what was happening.

Caroline and you got on really well and you were also glad that you were finally not the only woman in this male household. You were no longer a child but a teenager, your body was changing and so were your moods. As a result, you were more easily annoyed by Caesar's games. He had got into the habit of teasing you and testing your limits. But you couldn't blame him, after all he was getting older too and entering a kind of puberty.

Still, he was gentle with you, he had never hurt you before. His every touch was deliberate and controlled, he could well appreciate that his strength was so far above yours that he could kill you with ease. Of course he didn't want that. He liked you, you had grown up together and you were family to him.

It was another one of those days when you were sitting in the garden reading a book in the evening when everything was quiet. You were far too focused on the book that you didn't notice the shadow in the neighboring trees and how it dropped to the ground with ease. Soft footsteps came closer to you and suddenly someone breathed gently on the back of your neck. Startled, you dropped your book and pinched your neck where you felt the breath so Caesar wouldn't have a chance to do it again.

You giggled and gave him an offended look. Wait a minute! You got up and walked towards him. You tried to tickle him too, but Caesar was quicker and dodged your hand. He liked this game. Caesar was faster than you and before you knew it, he grabbed you by the hips and pushed you against him. His green-gold eyes met yours and there was silence for a few seconds. You just looked at each other.

His eyes fascinated you, they looked so human and yet different. Those golden speckles in his eyes glowed and you only noticed it now. His hard chest was warm against yours and he too seemed lost in your eyes. His gaze was equally pensive.

"Caesar," his name came through to him and he liked the sound of you pronouncing each letter. Your scent wafted into his nostrils and he breathed in and out deeply. He knew that these feelings were only arising because he was changing physically. At least Will had explained to him that he could be going through a kind of puberty, much like humans. Was that why he saw you a fraction differently than he had the years before?

The barking of a neighborhood dog snapped you out of your thoughts and Caesar's grip loosened, but it took ages. Your pulse beat against your neck and his eyes fixed on him. He only now saw how soft and fragile your skin seemed and how easily he could break through it with his sharp canines. He had never noticed it when he was younger. He had seen you differently and now. You've changed, you've grown up and… He shook his head quickly and turned away, disappearing into his room.

You looked after him, puzzled. But he left you with a comforting warmth that frightened you.

But that evening was just the calm before the storm.

You watched Will's car drive away with tears in your eyes. He and Caroline had taken Caesar and they had just left you behind. They knew you were just trying to free Caesar and now they were taking him to a monkey house. You slumped on the floor crying, holding one of Caesar's T-shirts in your hands. It still smelled like him. He really did have a pleasant scent.

You closed your eyes, then you made a decision. Days later, you secretly grabbed Will's car keys and took his car. You drove to the monkey house where Caesar was supposed to be living now.

The blond guy who took you to him wasn't exactly sympathetic and you scowled at him as he stared at your neckline. Still, he had taken you to Caesar's, but it had cost you the last of your cash, which you had to hand over to this idiot to get him to take you to Caesar's.

When you arrived at Caesar's cage, you froze. He was sitting in the corner, his gaze fixed silently on the wall. You stepped closer to the bars and gripped the cold metal with your trembling hands.

"Caesar, I'm here," you spoke softly, hoping it would calm him down a little. When the monkey heard your words, he immediately jumped up and walked quickly towards you. He didn't take his eyes off yours for a second. Your hand slipped through the bars and gently stroked his cheek. His head leaned into your touch and you felt the tears gathering in them. He looked so exhausted, but you could see how the fire in them hadn't gone out yet.

"I'm so sorry," you breathed and a tear escaped your eye. His big thumb gently stroked it away and his eyes looked at you with affection.

"Not your fault. Caesar, was bad," he gestured and you immediately shook your head and contradicted him: "You are not a bad monkey, Caesar! You are the gentlest and kindest monkey I have ever met!" Again a tear rolled down your cheek and again the chimpanzee wiped it away. He was just trying to protect his family when this neighbor just couldn't control himself. Nobody wanted that to happen.

'You have to go,' grunted the monkey. He didn't want you to stay in this horrible place any longer, "I'll be fine," he gestured further. He saw the struggle in your watery eyes and that you were already thinking of a plan to get him out of there, but he didn't want to. He would find a way himself.

"I love you, Caesar. Don't forget that," you whispered and stroked the soft fur on his face again. You were the only one allowed to touch him there and he enjoyed that touch, and what he enjoyed even more were your words, even if he couldn't fully appreciate what you meant.

"Caesar loves you too, (Y/n)."

A few years had passed. The virus had taken everything from you. Will, your family, everyone. You had escaped when people went crazy. They started fighting for things, be it food or places to sleep. You were scared and didn't want to stay in the city any longer. You packed up what you needed and disappeared into the forest. The only place that was safer than the city.

As on many nights before, you sat by the fire and stared into the flames. You thought about the past and especially about Caesar. There wasn't a day when you didn't think about the monkey and you wondered what had become of him. The loneliness consumed you more and more with each passing day and your fear grew. The forest was dangerous and you were mostly lucky that no bear had caught you yet.

You survived by eating berries, although you had bad experiences with some of them. Some of the ones you found were poisonous and made you throw up quite badly afterwards. That was the last time you picked those particular varieties.

You sighed and rubbed your eyes against your forearm as you rested your face on your arms. Suddenly there was a crack in the undergrowth and you tensed, then the earth began to shake. Confused, you stood up, what was going on?

You looked around in panic as the first deer came towards you and with a wobbly leap you jumped to the side to avoid landing under the animal's hard hooves.

A few seconds later, more came. It was a mass panic that was triggered and it forced you to run. Your heart pounding, you ran through the undergrowth, hoping not to be trampled to death by the herd.

What had happened? What had startled the animals so much? You almost tripped over a root, but you quickly managed to catch yourself and keep running. But you almost missed the next danger ahead of you, a ravine. You wanted to stop, but one of the big deer crashed into you and you were thrown down with a scream.

You hit a rocky outcrop with a hard thud. Pain shot through you like a bolt of lightning and your head rumbled. Every movement burned and you were afraid to move, you didn't know if anything was broken. You tried to stay calm, breathing heavily.

"Take it easy, (Y/n). It's going to be okay," you tried to tell yourself, but you could feel how much of a lie it was and tears gathered in your eyes, you sobbed.

"Caesar…" came out of your mouth subconsciously and images from the past flashed up again and an arm with dark fur. He came towards you as if in slow motion. He looked so real. Your brows drew together and you stretched out your arm too.

Suddenly the arm sped up and in a flash the large, rough hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you upwards, followed by another hand. A cry of pain escaped your throat as your body began to burn again. You were laid down on the floor and your eyes blacked out for a moment.

A dark shadow hovered over you and green-gold eyes looked down at you, worried but critical. Rough hands scanned your body for injuries and a hissing sound came from your lungs.

Then you opened your eyes, the blurry outline above you becoming clearer and clearer until you could make it out. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes widened.

"Caesar?…"

[jackiepackiee]

Oh hey there! This my first time requesting you!

I have a request for chuuya nakahara and dazai osamu. I wanna ask that how would he be a as a boyfriend to a s/o who could control electrons in the atmosphere.

For dazai its how would he confess to girl who he admires for a long time but is scared to lose her, but she confesses to him before he could?

Thank you very much and I love the rule about angst without a happy ending i mean cmon life is tough enough already we all are carrying emotional baggage in some way or the other 😭😭

Love you admin, take care! 💞💞

Trying this again because I finished and tumblr deleted it ALLLL

I love science!

𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾 & 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝒜���𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈- 𝓃𝑜𝓅𝑒

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 / 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒

𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾

Will ask the most annoying questions

“Can you make your body a metallic bond so when you’re hit by an enemy, you’re malleable. Oh! Can you make the hatrack an ionic bond so I can make his charges line up and he’ll explode!”

“Dazai… No!

Yall meet a work

He teases you, goes on missions with you, pranks Kunikida with you

But it’s not until your ability goes haywire and you’re hurt one day that he realizes he likes you

From then on, he hugs you when your ability acts up

Nullifying you and getting a hug

A win win in his book

Little things change

He does his paperwork, doesn’t drink as much, teases you more, and makes less suicide attempts

Though, he can’t confess

You’re too good, he can’t ruin you with his depression and violent past

But, what if you say no?

He thinks it’s a lose lose

What a dumb thing for such a smart guy to think?

He finally decided to confess when Ranpo tells him that it’s a good idea

(Ranpo, the world's greatest detective, can obviously tell you like Dazai and he likes you. Why not be the wingman for the new it couple?)

“Dazai… the entire agency knows. And I’ll tell them for you… unless you get me a snack. Yknow, I’m no romance detective, but love is in the air.”

So… he brings you to the Port

Wins you a cute little teddy at a game slot

He’s about to confess

But… before he can speak

“Dazai, I like you!”

You like him. You. So incredibly intelligent, strong, kind? He’s smart, but would’ve never seen this coming

He noticed how the ocean twists

You ability acts up and is causing the hydrogen and oxygen to disconnect

You’re practically shaking with nerves

So… he hugs you

Not a kiss… he would never rush such a perfect moment

The ocean calms, you ability nullifies

Now that you’re dating, the question are WORSE

“Did you change the atoms in my brain so I love you?” “One, no. Two, that’s not how love works!”

Brags to everyone, even if it’s annoying

Just adores you

Thinks he could die happy

Although, he’d much rather live to love you

Makes sure that all your missions are local so he can get to you incase electrons start buzzing around

Calls you dumb things, stupid science jokes, it’s a headache

Overall, so smart but sooo stupid

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶

Thinks you’re the coolest!

Likes to think your abilities are similar and you two have a connection

Also… a bit dumb

So he asks so many questions

What, he’s fascinated with you and he wants to know as much as he can

“Valence electrons? What?” “What do ya mean I can’t see em? Too small?”

Even if he’s technically the strongest in the entire Port Mafia, thinks you’re better

I mean, he can control gravity but you can manipulate matter!

Thinks that you’re a gift for all his years of hell and unluckiness

Even if you’re just a friend… for now

Never EVER lets you go on missions alone

Makes sure at least one of his trusted subordinates is with you

And if that can’t happen, he’ll make sure Mori gives Chuuya you’re a dangerous work

He’ll miss sleep to take your work, just so you’re safe

If you’re ever overwhelmed, he’ll float you off the ground

Makes sure that you can calm down

Maybe it’s the air higher up, maybe the scenery?

Or… maybe it’s his arms wrapped tight around you

He realizes during one of these moments how much he loves you

“Shh, it’s okay. You ability is stable and you’re safe.”

After asking Kouyou for advice, he’s ready to confess

Buys roses, wine, a jazz record, and a little stuffed animal

Knocks on your apartment when…

You open the door… looking stunning.

“Chuuya? What’re you doing here?”

A gorgeous red outfit, styled hair and makeup. He used his ability to float the gifts to the ceiling so you wouldn’t see.

“Oh… you look pret- I mean! You’re so dressed up.”

“Yeah… was about to leave.”

His heart sunk, although his cheeks warmed at the sight of you in such a beautiful outfit.

“Do you have a date?”

“Date? No, I don’t.”

What a relief!

“Well, what’s the occasion?”

“… I really like you Chuuya! I was gonna try and find you at work now!”

Oh woah… did he just die and go to heaven?

Gives you the sweetest kiss (It’s definitely his first)

Now that you’re dating, he spoils you

Remember how no one is allowed to put you in danger?

Before, he’d let other watch you

But now he’ll clear his day just for your safety

Tries to learn as much as he can about science so he can talk with you even more

“Damn it… electron sea? I thought we had seven seas already?”

Overall? Perfect 11/10

[williamkisser]

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

[notyourhetloki]

Ken with a gn doll!reader love interest

Reader: gender neutral

/Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Guess who's obsessed lol anyway... This is NOT spoiler free! In fact, this is set AFTER the movie! I gave Ken a redemption arc because I think he'd be willing to better himself so here you go...

Word Count: 1348

—

How it started:

You were hanging out with Allan at the beach when suddenly Ken approached you, waving and smiling as he spoke: “Hey Allan! Hey (Y/N)! Wanna play volleyball?”

Allan glanced nervously at you before you two agreed, following Ken through the sand.

The game was fun but you were losing, that is until you had the chance to score, jumping up in the air and striking the ball with full force… hitting Ken right in his face.

He dramatically fell back, face covered with his hands while groaning. You quickly ran to him, kneeling on the sand and patting his shoulder. “Ken! Are you okay??”

He revealed his face, slowly blinking while examining you. You worried he was mad... you were new in Barbieland and didn’t want to make any enemies. What if he hated you?

“That… was… AWESOME. How did you learn to plunge like that??” Ken gave you a big smile, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

How it went:

You had been hanging out with Ken a lot lately, spending time at the beach or at your Dream House (all dolls had their own house now, including Kens). He even invited you to his Mojo Dojo Casa House (yes he still called it that) to watch some movies, and you gladly accepted.

He was nice to be around, always glad to help with whatever you needed and always excited for your next activity together. He was goofy and made you laugh, which made him feel good about himself.

And because the way to his heart was through his ego, you two became best friends as soon as you started complimenting him. He even admired you back, making you feel all fuzzy inside.

Ken was ridiculously charming, and you felt yourself falling harder with each moment you spent side by side. But, you had to remind yourself you were not Barbie, and he was Ken... He couldn't possibly be interested in you... right?

Besides, you knew he had a lot to learn yet. After the incident with Kendom and the whole patriarchy thing, he started studying sociology and began a journey to better himself, and you were happy to be there to help.

You reminded him of his daily mantras ("I'm kenough") and accompanied him every time he visited the library for more books. Ken cringed while you reminded him about the past. “At least you apologized to Barbie, right?”

“…”

“RIGHT?”

And just like that the two of you were on an adventure to the Real World, for Ken had a very important mission.

—

You had never been on rollerblades before, so as you arrived at the Real World, you started to wobble. Luckily, Ken caught your hand and continued to hold it, helping you balance. You felt heat rising to your cheeks, blushing at the unexpected touch and intimacy. (Unbeknownst to you, Ken was blushing hard as well, trying not to think much of it. You were just friends, right? This was normal… right?)

You both found Barbie, and you were proud to hear Ken’s apology as he spoke. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, Barbie. For trying to install patriarchy in Barbieland, for stealing your house, for all of it! You don’t need to accept my apologies, but I just needed you to know that I’m trying to better myself every day, and (Y/N) is helping me with that!” While Ken looked ashamed, Barbara looked shocked.

In the end, she accepted his apologies and smiled at you as you waved your goodbyes.

Ken felt immense relief and happiness now that he took this new step in his self-growth journey. He was so happy in fact, that he felt like holding your hand again. You both looked at each other and smiled, hearts racing and faces blushing.

—

You were in his Mojo Dojo Casa House, chatting and giggling like teenagers. Ken started asking about you, very interested in everything you had to say. He was fascinated and wanted to know more about you, and soon he caught himself asking more intimate things. “So… do you have a girlfriend? Or… a boyfriend? I mean… I don’t know, are you even into Kens? I mean…” he stuttered as you laughed.

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend… in fact, I never had a significant other before…”

Ken’s blue eyes grew wide, mouth slightly agape as he slid closer to you. “Oh… really?”

“I mean… I’m not a Barbie, not a Ken… not sure I’m even supposed to have someone.” You suddenly grew a little sad at that, being so vulnerable with Ken all of a sudden.

You looked down in shame, but Ken quickly lifted your chin up so you looked at him. His expression was fond, eyes roaming through your face and finally landing on your lips. He grew closer and for a moment you actually thought he would kiss you.

But he didn’t, he stopped and moved back, suddenly a bit confused and anxious. “Ha… I’m… I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually…” he said with an awkward smile.

How it ended:

Ken was desperate when he asked Allan for help. He was so confused, so… eager. He had never felt this way before, not even with Barbie. You were different, you listened to him, inspired him to become a better person, spent your valued time with him and you two had so much fun together! He felt genuinely happy around you, and in the last times you hung around, he felt the deepest urge to kiss you. This desire had been growing the more he tried pushing it away, so he decided to ask for help.

“I mean… (Y/N) is not a Barbie, and I’m Ken! It doesn’t make sense, right?”

Allan looked at him with slight confusion as he responded. “I mean… there are truly no rules, it’s not like there’s a book written somewhere that Kens should only date Barbies.”

Ken was left starstruck because I mean, Allan was right. There are no such rules in Barbieland, that was just something everyone assumed one day. “Thank you, Allan!” He hugged his friend before heading out.

—

Ken invited you on a beach date night and you happily agreed. You two sat on the sand as you watched the waves, but he only had eyes for you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You wondered about the sea and the stars. “Yeah…” he answered, not looking at them.

Slowly, Ken moved his fingers to touch yours, and while turning your head to look at him, you let your hands completely meet.

Your heart beat fast as he smiled that gorgeous smile of his, cheeks rosy and eyes glowing blue as he finally spoke. “(Y/N)… can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Ken.” You smiled in anticipation.

He looked down, doubting himself a bit before looking up again and almost whispering. “Can I kiss you?”

At that moment everything made sense, and you couldn’t help the big smile on your face as you spoke. “Of course!”

He matched your smile and squeezed your hand in excitement before turning away a bit and fist-pumping the air, then turning back with a more collected expression on his face.

Ken stared at your mouth before leaning in, and you leaned as well. Slowly, you met in the middle and finally kissed. Gentle, he grinned against your lips.

The first kiss was quick, but as you stopped and looked into each other’s eyes, he came back crushing onto your mouth, not wanting to be separate anymore. Ken took your face into his hands and you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

You both needed to breathe eventually, so you parted. You took the opportunity to ask a very important question. “Ken? Would you…would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Ken gasped, his eyes growing wide and teary as he held your hands in his. “That would be the coolest thing to ever happen to me… yes!”

The two of you hugged tight, and for the first time in forever, everything felt just right.

—

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii!! could i request for a kiyora jin fic?

── WICKED GAME

Synopsis: The first time you see him, Jin Kiyora spits blood at your feet. That is when you are sure you will love him.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Kiyora x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: alcohol/hangovers, reader is drunk and at a party in the first part, mentions of drug use and smoking but NOT by reader or kiyora, blood and violence, sooo much swearing at one point, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…, kiyora is down to punch an mf at all times, he’s probably ooc (if it’s even possible for him to be ooc??), he is NOT bestie approved but like he’s actually a cutie i promise, open ending, implied to be a college au but there’s nothing scholarly or collegiate about it except for the party and the sports mentions, many liberties are taken with kiyora’s backstory and character alike

A/N: hiiii omg i’ve never written kiyora before!! i hope i kinda did him justice?? EEK LMAOAO okay also i wasn’t sure if you wanted me to go in a specific direction so i picked one at random and left it kinda (very) open ended so that way if you/anyone else likes it i can write a pt2 but if not it’s nbd!! it’s just that as you can see it’s already kinda long and i didn’t want to write a ton if people weren’t fucking w it yk 😭 ANYWAYS rambling aside i hope you enjoy!!

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

There is a man screaming at you. You know that he is screaming because his voice pierces the drunken haze settled over your mind, shame shooting through that spinning, floating sensation, and you know it is at you specifically because he is glaring and it’s not at your best friend or the other girl you came with, it’s at you and only you. He’s glaring and saying something over and over again, but all you can do is tilt your head at him.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he says. “Get the fuck out. Why the fuck are you still here?”

More of his sentences than not are just that word. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s unnecessarily angry. You try to think — what did you do? Your best friend places one hand on your arm, and you’re pretty sure she’s telling you it’s not worth it, that you all should just go, but your drink is still half-full and you want to finish it before you leave.

“Why are you mad?” you mumble, fascinated by the pinkness of the alcohol, the way it contrasts against the white plastic of your cup.

His eyes are open and wild, and before you know it he is reaching out for you. Your best friend pulls you back just in time, and she shrieks for help as his fingers close around nothing, but the music is loud and the crowd is thick and there’s no way anyone will hear her.

You’re still confused. The man is still angry. You try to recall the conversation you’ve had with him up until this point — well, it wasn’t really much of a conversation to begin with. What had even happened? 

“He’s on something,” your best friend hisses in your ear as she ushers you through the crowd. “No way this is just a couple of beers talking. All you did was ask him if his watch was real, and he totally flipped out.”

Right, that does sound familiar. You giggle as she shoves you outside, because it’s altogether hilarious. The other girl is hanging onto your best friend’s other arm and whining about how you had to leave the party early, and your best friend’s face is pale, her hair sticking to her forehead, but you’re not thinking about any of that. At least, it’s not at the forefront of your mind; instead, you’re wondering why that man has followed the three of you.

“I’m going to call the cops if you don’t leave!” he says, and it’s all you can do to lurch backwards as he stops on the porch. He’s intimidating, you can see that better in the light, and even though you’re more lost than anything, you’re pretty sure you should be afraid, too.

“Is this even your house?” you say sleepily. “Won’t the cops shut down your party first?”

It’s not his party or his house. You know that because the person who threw it is the one who invited you and your friends, but for some reason, this man is dead-set on the fact that you are some kind of intruder.

“The only ones that’ll be getting in trouble if the cops come are you guys, for fucking trespassing,” he snaps. “You’re not invited here!”

“We are,” you say. “Wanna see?”

You’re about to pull out your phone, but your best friend slaps your hand and shakes her head. The man is flushed now, and slowly, you put the phone back in your pocket, pursing your lips and avoiding his gaze.

“I’m serious. Don’t make me say it again, you fucking—”

“Woah, dude. Didn’t know that was your new thing,” a new voice says. You don’t recognize the speaker, but you can tell that he’s pretty, with dark hair and dark eyes that shimmer in the flickering porch light. He’s sitting on the porch swing, his feet kicked up on the railing, and there’s an unlit cigarette in his hands. When he notices you staring at it, he shrugs and flicks it to the ground. “It’s not mine. Some girl asked if I wanted it and left before I could say no.”

“Kiyora,” the man sneers. His attention has been diverted entirely, and the newcomer — Kiyora — stands casually, lazily. He’s slouching, but you can tell despite his posture that he’s a slip of a person, with needle-like features and a scowl that somehow resembles a grin. 

“Sup,” he says. “You into bothering girls now?”

“Stay out of this,” the man says. “You weren’t invited, either.”

“Eh,” Kiyora says. “I don’t need an invitation.”

“I’m being serious,” he said. “You don’t get what a fucking bitch she is.”

Kiyora glances over at you, and it’s like he’s weighing his options. And although it would be just as easy for you to run — it’s what your best friend is urging you to do, it’s what you should do — you can’t help but wait. You can’t help but want to know what he’ll decide.

“Y/N,” your best friend pleads. “Come on, let’s just go while we can.”

“I want another drink,” the other girl says. “Just one more shot? I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“No more shots tonight,” your best friend says. “Y/N, I’m being serious.”

That’s when Kiyora smiles slightly, and then he’s drawing his fist back and punching the man. Your best friend gasps, and even the other girl yelps, but you are enthralled by it. The man howls, and then he’s charging at Kiyora and they’re falling down the porch stairs and it’s a whirlwind of blows and shouts and cursing as they rip up the grass of the front yard with the fury of their spat.

It’s over almost as soon as it begins. The man’s collar is clenched in one of Kiyora’s fists, and his eyes are glimmering with tears at the way Kiyora looms over him, the other fist prepared to hit him again. The hollows of the man’s face are all blue and bruised, and he slaps lightly against Kiyora’s forearm in surrender. Kiyora gives him a measured look that’s somehow mocking, and then he lets him go. He stays on the ground, lying prone and motionless, and your best friend — she’s always been so empathetic, even though hardly anyone ever deserves it — tells the other girl to sit and wait before she rushes inside to alert the owner of the house.

“There we go,” Kiyora says, dusting himself off and springing to his feet, rolling his shoulders like he’s waking up from a long nap. “What a wimp. Can’t be talking that kind of shit if you don’t even have the skills to back it up.”

“You stood up for me,” you say. “Thank you.”

He raises his eyebrows, and then he makes a face. You realize he’s not escaped unscathed at the exact moment that he spits a mouthful of blood into the grass before you, his lower lip shiny and split, the same angry color as the crimson in the grass. You gaze at the way it dissolves into the dirt, and then you step over it, meaning to embrace him but mostly just collapsing into his arms. He catches you by reflex, not out of desire, and then he snorts.

“It’s not like I really did it for you, so don’t thank me,” he says. His nose is bleeding, too. You’re sure of it, because something warm dribbles onto your shirt, the stain blooming like rust against the lacy left strap. It’s a white top, thin and deep in the front, and it’s one of your favorites, but shockingly, you’re not angry that it’s been ruined.

“Why’d you do it, then?” you say.

“Couldn’t tell you,” he says. “I guess I just thought that your side was the right one to pick this time.”

To you, it sounds like the same thing, but it must’ve meant something different, because he sounds incredibly sure of himself. You hum in agreement, and then Kiyora nudges you off of him, motioning over to where the other girl — she’s your best friend’s new roommate, and you think her name might start with a C, but you can’t really recall — is sitting on the curb alone.

“Go sit with your friend,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, though you pause before you can join her. “Wait. Is your name Kiyora?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Y/N,” you say. “I’m Y/N.”

“’Kay,” he says. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Nice to meet you, Kiyora.”

He finds this funny, chuckling as you stumble over to the curb, sitting next to the girl, who’s texting someone with a big red x in their contact name. That probably means she shouldn’t be talking to them, but all you do is lean your head against her shoulder. You’re not the type to reprimand anyone, not when you’re like this. Maybe a few drinks or a few hours earlier, you would’ve said something, but at the moment, your mind is preoccupied with your newest fixation.

Your best friend comes out with the owner of the house, and then she makes a beeline for where you are sitting. Helping you to your feet, she drags you back in the direction of her apartment, plucking her roommate’s phone out of her hands and ignoring her arguments, instead turning to you.

“What the hell happened to your shirt?” she says. “Did that — did they hurt you too? Are you okay?”

“What?” you say. “No, I’m fine. Hey, listen. I want him.”

“Want who?” she says.

“Kiyora,” you say. 

“The dude who beat that other guy up?” she says. You nod. Her brows knit together, and she shakes her head. “You need to sober up.”

“I’ll still want him when I’m sober,” you say.

“Then you’re sick in the head,” she says. “But I guess that’s nothing new.”

The next morning, you wake up on your best friend’s couch. Your makeup is blurred and messy on your face, the remnants of your mascara forming dark shadows under your eyes, and your clothes are rumpled. You are close to throwing up, and your head is pounding, so you trudge over to the bathroom, which is thankfully empty. 

In the mirror, things look even worse. Your once-white shirt has remnants of your drink splashed on the front, and the left strap is a flaky sanguine, the color bleeding into the place where your heart beats behind your breast. It’s frightening at first, but dimly, you remember that the blood is not your own. It nearly could’ve been, but it isn’t, because you were saved. Someone took your side, and he saved you, and it’s his blood that you’re covered in.

“Damn.” It’s your best friend’s other roommate, the one who didn’t go out with you three last night. You don’t remember her name, either, or maybe she just never introduced herself. “What kind of night did you have?”

“Not my best,” you admit with a yawn. 

“Yeah, no shit,” she says, going to the other sink and running her toothbrush under the water. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you say, because anything more makes the knife in your head twist more and more. “Just need a shower. Some dude freaked out on us last night.”

“Is that what happened?” she says. “D’you need a doctor or something?”

“It’s not mine,” you say. “Some other guy fought him off for me. His nose bled all over my shoulder when I tried hugging him afterwards.”

“What a hero,” she says, running a washcloth along her face. “Was he cute?”

“Does that matter?” you say. She winks at you in the mirror.

“Obviously. If he’s good-looking, you should try to find him and thank him while you’re sober. If he’s not, then you can just let it go,” she says. 

“Yeah, he was cute,” you say after thinking about it for a moment. “I’m pretty sure I liked him. Last night, I mean.”

“Yeah?” she says. “Did you get a name or some other way to contact him?”

“Uh, his name is Kiyora, I think,” you say. 

“Kiyora?” she says. “What does he look like?”

“He’s not that tall,” you say. “Dark hair. Pretty eyes, though I can’t quite remember what color they were.”

“I can’t say I know him,” she says. “Maybe you can try social media, though.”

“I think that might be my best bet,” you agree, taking off your shirt and tossing it to the ground, stepping out of your pants and reaching into the cabinet for a spare towel. “Do you mind if I just shower in here?”

“No worries, I’m almost done,” she says, squeezing sunscreen out of a small tube and massaging it into her cheeks. “You know how to work the shower?”

“Yup. Spent more nights here than I’d like to admit,” you said. The girl laughs at this, patting you on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. Better you’re here than with some random guy, though, right?” she says.

“Right,” you say. “Thanks.”

“Hope you can find him!” she says, and then she’s shutting the bathroom door behind her. You reach out and lock it before stripping fully, turning the faucet so that the water is as hot as you can bear and then sighing as it streams onto your face and body, rinsing off all of the proof of the previous night.

You kick your dirty clothes into a pile in the corner, wrapping a towel around your body and leaving the bathroom in a rush of steam. Your best friend is waiting in the kitchen, sipping coffee from a chipped mug, her hair in a messy bun and an untouched bowl of cereal in front of her. When she notices you, she smiles.

“Good morning,” she says. 

“Good morning,” you say, ducking into her bedroom and pulling on the clothes you’d left in her closet weeks ago for times like these. 

“How are you today?” she says.

“I’ve been better,” you say. “But I’m alive.” 

“Want breakfast?” she says.

“I might throw up if I eat,” you say.

“You’ll definitely throw up if you don’t. Just eat something light,” she says, gesturing in the direction of her pantry, as if to say take what you want.

You sit across from her, a random snack with bears on the packaging in one hand and your phone in the other. There’s a litany of unread text messages that you need to go through, so you squint your eyes against the glare of the screen and begin to read them.

Most of them are just people from the party asking you if you’re doing alright, since to their knowledge you left abruptly and without explanation. There’s one from your own roommate, asking you if you’ve watered the plants on the balcony in the past few days or not. You give one-or-two word answers to the majority, but there’s one message that catches your eye.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m really sorry about last night — apparently that guy brought a whole cocktail of drugs with him, and that’s why he went all crazy. I hope you’re okay, and that you don’t think badly of me now.’

There’s a crying emoji followed by a praying one. It’s the guy who invited you and your best friend to the party; ordinarily, you would’ve blocked him, but now you need his help, so, with a frown, you type out your response.

‘Honestly, it was pretty scary, but luckily that other guy was there, so nothing too awful happened. Speaking of which, do you know anything about him?’

There’s a pause that you can only imagine is him typing out his response, and then your darkening phone screen lights up with a notification.

‘Kiyora? He’s on the soccer team with a couple of my other friends. He’s not really close with any of them, but he’ll show up to our parties every now and again if they let him know where the address is. He’s kind of weird, but I guess it’s a good thing he happened to be there last night.’

‘Hm.’

‘His first name’s Jin, and apparently he’s addicted to grape candy — everyone makes fun of him for it. That’s about all I know.’

‘Thanks anyways.’

‘Anytime! Hope to see you at another party :)’

You consider blocking him now that you’ve gotten everything you can out of him, but there’s no point, so you just turn your phone off without responding, laying it face-down so you can ignore whoever else tries to reach out to you. Your best friend finally takes a bite of her cereal; you don’t know if she’s inspired by you or if she’s finally finished with her coffee. When you look over at her mug, you find it’s the latter.

“How much do you remember?” she asks you.

“Enough,” you say. “I’m going to find him.”

“Kiyora?” she says. When you nod, she can only pinch the bridge of her nose. “I should’ve known.”

“What do you have against him? He helped us out,��� you say.

“Besides the fact that he beat that guy’s face into a pulp?” she says.

“That guy would’ve done the same to me,” you say.

“Not if you had just left when I told you to,” she reminds you. You can’t rebut this, and she knows it, because she tries her level best to avoid sounding condescending in the ensuing statement. “That’s the kind of person that you’re supposed to avoid, you know.”

“We don’t know anything about him,” you say. “We can’t judge him based on one night, especially given the circumstances.”

“That’s true,” she says. She’s like that, always quicker to give allowances than you are. You’re sure she’ll forgive him before he even realizes he’s done anything to forgive. “So, what, you just want to see what kind of person he is and go from there?”

“Basically,” you say, even though the more you mull it over, the more you’re convinced that there’s not really much that’ll change your mind. She wipes at a droplet of milk that lingers on the corner of her mouth, and then she exhales heavily.

“Yeah, alright,” she says. “I don’t think anything I say is going to stop you, so why bother?”

“You know me so well,” you say. “Want anything from the convenience store? I need to get some aspirin. My head is killing me.”

“Mine, too,” she says with a groan. “Can you get a pack for me? I think we’re out.”

“Sure,” you say, slinging your purse over your shoulder and shoving your feet in a pair of slippers. You’re pretty sure you look horrible, all lumpy and formless in an outfit that’s about two sizes too large for you, but you can’t be bothered to change, and at least you’re clean, which is more than you could say an hour ago. Waving at your best friend, you leave her apartment, careful to shut the door slowly, so as not to wake up her final roommate, who is still sleeping soundly. You envy her a bit, but then again, if you had woken up any later, you’d have had to add grogginess to your list of complaints, so maybe it’s for the best.

The convenience store is fairly empty. There’s a cashier dozing off by the checkout station, and a television showing the security footage — you stop and wave at your reflection, as you always do — but other than that, you’re the only one in the building.

As you’re browsing through the medicine section, weighing the merits of buying the generic version or if you should just get the name-brand, there is the swooshing sound of the automatic doors sliding open. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, so you pick up two boxes of the generic kind and make your way to the cashier, but then you freeze, because the figure which has slipped into the candy section is one you wouldn’t normally pay attention to but has suddenly become one you are particularly concerned with.

“Kiyora!” you hiss, ducking into the candy aisle. To your delight, he spins around at once, and he looks much the same as you remembered him from the previous night, which means it really is him. A violet mark stands out angrily against the paleness of his cheek, and his lower lip is still a bit swollen, but he wears it well, like some kind of badge of honor. 

At first, he narrows his eyes at you, but then they light up with recognition, and he smiles imperceptibly. It’s barely there, barely enough to be qualified as a smile in the first place, yet you know that that’s what it is.

“Hey,” he says. “Hangover hitting you bad?”

He’s talking about the medicine in your hands. You rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Pretty much,” you say. “What about you?”

“I didn’t drink last night,” he says. “It’s bad for your body, and I’m supposed to maintain mine. Top athlete and all, you know how it is.”

This is accompanied by a subtle roll of his eyes, and you snicker at his impudence.

“Naturally,” you say. “But I was referring more to, ah…that.”

You don’t really know a more graceful way to refer to it, but he seems to pick up on what you’re talking about.

“I’ve had worse,” he says. “He really was all bark and no bite. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Still, thank you again,” you say.

“Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t for you? Don’t say thanks. It’s embarrassing,” he says.

“On my part or yours?” you say.

“Both,” he says.

“Alright, sorry,” you say. “But wait. What do you mean, you’ve had worse?”

“I dabbled in boxing for a while,” he says.

“You played two affiliated sports at once?” you say. “That’s impressive.”

“Well, one of them wasn’t affiliated,” he says, stooping over and picking up a box of grape candy — of course, he was reputedly obsessed with it, so you shouldn’t have been surprised by his presence in the convenience store at all. “I guess a better name would be street fighting. My older brother got into it after he didn’t cut it as a soccer player, and he convinced me to try it out for a bit. It was good money.”

“That’s cool,” you say, somewhat at a loss for words, finding it all too easy to imagine him in that kind of situation.

“Lame as hell, actually,” he says. “I’m better at soccer, anyways.”

He says it so nonchalantly that you have to laugh. He’s taken aback, and he doesn’t laugh along with you, but he’s clearly not upset, because that same not-smile remains on his face.

“That’s good to hear,” you say. “I don’t know if my best friend would approve of me talking to an underground street fighter.”

“You can safely tell her I’m reformed,” he says. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“You remembered?” you say.

“I told you I didn’t drink last night. Why would I forget?” he says. 

“That’s true,” you say. “Yeah. Y/N.”

“Got any reason to be talking to me against your best friend’s wishes, Y/N?” he says, walking by your side towards the cashier. The way your name sounds coming from him is different. He says it like it’s the final piece to a game that he’s been wanting to play, and you’re not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but if it’s the latter, then it’s too late. Somehow, he’s made it so that this game is one you want to play, too, or maybe it’s that you’re playing it already, have been playing it since before you even knew of its existence.

“I guess our ideas of what’s in my best interests just don’t align,” you say.

“Is that so? What does she believe to be in your best interests?” he says.

“Staying away from you,” you say.

“And you?” he says.

“The opposite,” you say, swiping your credit card and putting the twin boxes of medicine into the wide front pocket of your sweatshirt. He does the same, opening the box of grape candy and popping a piece into his mouth. You notice that he does not offer you one, but you weren’t hoping he would, so you’re not disappointed or anything. Just amused.

“Interesting,” he says. “What about me makes you sure that being around me is in your best interests?”

“I’m sure my chances of getting hurt will be a lot less, for one,” you say. 

“Not necessarily,” he says. “Maybe I won’t take your side one day. Maybe I’ll be the one to hurt you. Then what happens?”

“Hm,” you say. It’s such a bizarre thing to say to someone who you’ve only met one-and-a-half times — the meeting last night only counts for half, considering how out of your mind you were — but he does it with a straight face, like it’s a serious dilemma. “I don’t think you’d do that.”

“You don’t?” he says.

“Nah,” you say. “I’d never provoke you into fighting me.”

“How can you be sure of that?” he says. You tear open the aspirin’s cardboard packaging, swallowing the pill dry and praying it works quickly. It catches in your throat, so you swallow again in an attempt to dislodge it. Kiyora watches you, and once you are successful in the endeavor, he silently hands you a piece of grape candy.

“People tell me I’m easy to get along with,” you say. The candy is sour and sparkles in your mouth; you do your best to savor the taste, but it’s gone as soon as you’re aware of it, melting away into air on your tongue.

“That guy from last night didn’t seem to think so,” he points out.

“He was mad that I asked if his watch was real. Normal people wouldn’t care about that,” you say. “I doubt you would.”

“I guess I wouldn’t,” he says. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you say, though you don’t quite know what you’re agreeing to. He gives you another piece of candy, and then he actually smiles; the tip of his tongue is purple, too, just like that bruise of his. You wonder if yours will turn the same shade, and then you accept the candy regardless. It’s kind of delightful, the thought of matching with him in that secret way.

“You’re kind of funny, Y/N,” he says. 

“I do my best,” you say. “You’re not bad yourself.”

“You’re probably the only person who thinks that,” he says.

“Then maybe the others are missing out,” you say. He glances at the ground, but you think he seems happy, not upset.

“Maybe,” he says.

“Anyways, I should probably get back,” you say, because you’ve reached the intersection where you have to turn right, and it seems he has every intention of going straight. “But I can see you again, right?”

He cocks his head at you, and then, magically, he produces a pen from the pocket of his sweatpants, which are of that infuriating depth that supposedly only men deserve. Scribbling something on the box of grape candy, he presses it in your hand.

“Later,” he says, because the light has changed and he has to cross the street now. You watch him go, and then you peer at the small box. His handwriting is cramped and spiky, but you can make it out without too much trouble.

The box is empty, devoid of anything sweet, but he’s given you a much greater treasure, so you hold it close to your heart as you scurry to your best friend’s apartment, trying to fight back the grin that threatens to split your face the entire way back.

“So, let me get this straight — he gave you his phone number?” your best friend says. She had showered in the time you spent at the convenience store, and now that she has an aspirin in her system and moisturizer on her face, she looks like an entirely different person, a brighter and more cheerful one who isn’t going to judge you for whatever you say next.

“Yes,” you say, incredibly focused on creating a new contact for Kiyora. “That’s a good sign, right?”

“Depends on who you’re asking,” she says. 

“Me,” you say.

“Then yeah, I’d say so,” she says. “He’s obviously into you.”

“I hope so,” you say.

“Who wouldn’t be?” she says. “You know what this means, right? It’s time for us to do reconnaissance.”

You grin, because you know exactly what that means. She pulls out her tablet and opens it to a random social media site, and so begins your investigation into the enigma that is Jin Kiyora.

“What the fuck?” you say. The two of you have been working for longer than you’d like to admit, yet you’ve learned frighteningly little about him. He plays soccer, and he seems to be quite good at it, given the few blurry highlights you managed to dredge up from his high school days. He has two brothers, both of whom post a ton but never about him. He once made the news in his hometown for breaking the mayor’s son’s nose — your best friend clicks her tongue at that, but you are sure he had a reason for doing it, so you remain unfazed. Otherwise, though, there’s nothing. He’s inactive on social media, which makes you doubly glad that you ran into him earlier, and if he has friends, then none of them seem to want to make that information public.

“It’s like he doesn’t exist,” your best friend says. “Honestly, I kind of fuck with it.”

“That’s a change of tune,” you say. She hums, typing something into her tablet and then shaking her head when the search results come up empty.

“Well, you know. It’s always nice when a man isn’t active online. Although, then again, in this case it could be because he doesn’t want a digital footprint that incriminates him or something,” she says.

“He’s not a criminal,” you say. She taps her finger against the article about him breaking the mayor’s son’s nose, and you cringe. “Okay, but he wasn’t arrested for that, so I’m technically still right.”

“Uh, sure, but this is the second account we have of him getting in a fight. Who knows? Maybe it’s like a hobby for him,” she says. At that moment, you decide to omit the fact that it actually was a hobby for him until an indeterminate amount of time ago. 

“We don’t know why he did it,” you say. “Maybe the mayor’s kid was a bully. The guy last night definitely was. Come on, you can’t say you’re not at least a little grateful to him for stepping in and sticking up for us.”

He has insisted twice now that he didn’t do it for you, but you’ll take anything that endears him to your best friend, so you don’t mention that, either.

“That whole situation was terrifying,” she says, hugging herself tightly. “For one, it was scary that that guy flipped out on you, but it’s not like seeing Kiyora beat him up was particularly soothing.”

“You’re nicer than me by far,” you say, for probably the thousandth time. “I found it pretty gratifying to watch. I mean, he had no trouble threatening us; why shouldn’t he have had to back up his words with action? Obviously, he wasn’t expecting us to be able to fight back, so he ran his mouth to his heart’s content, but he had the misfortune of doing it in front of the wrong person, and he got what was coming for him. That’s his fault. So, in a sense, what Kiyora did was just a form of justice.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” she says. “I still kinda feel bad for the other guy, considering he definitely wasn’t in his senses, and after all Kiyora did punch him first, but it was a tense atmosphere. Who knows how another person might’ve reacted? It’s wrong to judge when things were so precarious and prone to snapping at any second. Of course, what he did wasn’t perfect, but you can’t really expect perfection from anyone, can you?”

Again, she’s better than you. You don’t know if you will ever feel bad for the man from last night, or if you could ever forgive someone as quickly as she has forgiven Kiyora. But if you count all of the times she’s proven to be the gentler of you two, it’ll take you ages, so you just add this occasion to the list and internally celebrate your good fortune.

“I’m going to text him,” you say, showing her your phone screen.

“What are you going to say?” she says.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Maybe hi, to start?”

“Make sure you add your name, since he doesn’t have your number,” she says.

“Oh, good idea,” you say, typing out your initial message and handing it to her so she can proofread it. She nods, and you hit send, a pit forming in your stomach as you wait for a text back.

‘Hi! This is Y/N from earlier!’

It’s almost immediate, his response, and you high-five your best friend when your phone vibrates, deciding to forget the whole play-it-cool advice that’s so predominant online and opening it immediately.

‘Hi Y/N.’

A second later, there’s another buzz, and another text. You laugh when you see it, because it’s very tongue-in-cheek and already, you can imagine the kind of expression that he’s wearing as he’s typing, although you hardly know him.

‘This is Kiyora btw.’

“He’s not afraid to joke around,” your best friend says, reading over your shoulder. “That’s a good sign. Imagine he was super dry and boring over text. You’d have to ghost him.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “What should I say now?”

Before she can respond, he’s sent another text. This earns a round of applause and a whoop from her, albeit a quiet one, since the roommate you went out with last night is somehow still asleep.

“Triple text!” she says. “This is great! Ah, I mean. It’s great if you still want him.”

“Of course I do,” I say, heat rising in my face as I realize what’s he’s just asked me.

‘So. Are you free next Saturday?’

The restaurant Kiyora tells you to meet him at is the opposite of fancy. You almost mistake it for a gas station, because it’s right next to one and located at random on the side of the road, but luckily you stop the car in time and manage to pull into the parking lot. You’re a little overdressed, but at least you’ll make a good impression, or so you hope, because the last few times you’ve seen him haven’t exactly shown off your greatest assets.

He’s already inside, though he hasn’t sat at a table yet and you’re ten minutes early. The place is almost empty save for him and a few employees, and the lights are a harsh, fluorescent white that throws his features into greater relief, but the effect’s a little angelic. A bell chimes to announce your entrance, and he glances over his shoulder, his furrowed brow relaxing when he sees that it’s you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you say. A cheesy ballad from either the late 80s or the early 90s plays from the radio at the counter, and a ceiling fan whirs in the background, but it’s otherwise pretty quiet.

“It’s my uncle’s place,” he says, leading you to a table without waiting for the hostess — a girl of probably about sixteen or seventeen, who’s playing on her phone and doesn’t look up at either of you — to do anything. “Got him to close early for the night so it’s just us.”

“Oh, wow,” you say. “Thank you. That’s actually really sweet.”

He hands you a menu. “I don’t like being around that many people. It’s a little claustrophobic.”

“I get it,” you say. “I think every time I’ve ended up in a big crowd, it’s ended kinda badly for me, so it’s nice to not have to worry about that.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he says. For a moment, neither of you say anything, though probably for different reasons — he’s busy reading a menu, and you’re trying to think of a way to bring up his past grievances, especially the ones of the punching-a-mayor’s-son variety, without sounding like a stalker.

“What made you quit street fighting?” you say.

“Do you want appetizers?” he says, at exactly the same time. Then he pauses, your question registering. “Oh.”

“Appetizers are good,” you say.

“It was just too much,” he says. “I don’t know. I never liked it. I only stayed because I got paid well, but it became more trouble than it was worth.”

“What’s that mean?” you say. He’s obviously a bit uncomfortable with the line of questioning, squirming in his seat, but your best friend is right. That’s the kind of thing you should probably know about him before you let yourself get any deeper.

“The mayor’s jackass son started showing up, placing bets and all. He was a real dick,” he begins. You’re surprised that you’ve ended up at your end goal already; you were sure it’d take a bit more prodding until you reached the heart of the story, but it seems you’ve chanced upon it without even trying. He rolls his eyes and scoffs as he continues. “One time he asked if he could try fighting himself. Picked me as his opponent because I was the shortest and, therefore, the weakest. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you say, though not without a snicker, because from what you know of him, you doubt he could be considered the weakest in any company. “Then what?”

“Then I did the world a favor and broke his ugly fucking nose so he had an excuse to fix it, that’s what,” he says. “His dad wasn’t too happy.”

“That’s to be expected,” you say.

“Yup. After that, he told me I had to get my act together or there would be real disciplinary consequences, so I gave it up and focused everything I had on soccer instead,” he says. 

“I’m glad,” you say.

“Are you?” he says.

“You probably don’t get hurt quite as much playing soccer,” you say. “Even though it’s possible to get injured, it’s not as common.”

“True,” he says. “Most players are just faking it, anyways, so it’s definitely not common in the slightest.”

“Well, that’s all. I think it’s better that you don’t get hurt,” you say. “I don’t want you to. So stick with soccer.”

His lips form a thin, hard line, but there are dimples in his cheeks that make it obvious what he’s trying to suppress. Clearing his throat, he reopens his menu and points at one of the appetizers.

“Is this one alright with you?” he asks.

You’re looking at him when you answer, not the menu. Whatever it is, you’ll eat it, or if it’s really horrible, you’ll leave it for him. You’d rather spend that precious second admiring his features when he’s unaware of your gaze. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

His eyes flick up to meet your own, and then, impossibly, a pale pink blush dusts across his nose and cheeks.

“I’ll tell my uncle that that’s what we want, then,” he says, standing up and darting off towards the kitchens without another word. He walks with a kind of intrinsic rhythm, like he’s dancing, though there’s nothing about his gait otherwise that suggests any sort of musicality. It’s fascinating. He’s fascinating. 

You are certain, before he even returns, before you even eat, before you even part ways, that this will not be the last time you see him. At least you pray it won’t be, because you think you’re like a moth, and he’s like a flame, and there’s enough stories about moths and flames that you know how these things typically end, or at least you’re pretty sure you do. It doesn’t matter, though. None of it matters, because you’ve never been so utterly taken by anything the way you are with Jin Kiyora and his bruised face and his split knuckles and his grape-colored tongue.

There’s another thing you’re certain of now, or have been for a while: you don’t love him yet, of course you don’t, but you will. Inescapably, inevitably, you will.

[vigilskeep]

hiya!! I never learned much about oghren besides what I needed to because, from what I remember, he pissed me off so bad with misogynistic comments that in both my playthroughs I kicked him out of the party as soon as the game would let me😂what would you say is the appeal of his character? it seems there’s more to him if I could’ve got past that, based on the posts of yours I’ve seen

i’m not going to make an argument for pushing through if you can’t deal with how he talks because like, it sucks and as i say, they did not do anything with it or make him get better on that. that being said, i think there is something interesting to his character and what can be done with it.

maybe i’m just desperate for dwarven lore lmao. there are three, total, dwarven companions in the series, counting one from a dlc, and i will take whatever lore i can get from my beloved orzammar

oghren operates in a really fascinating space in orzammar’s caste system. he’s born warrior caste, and once, he was everything orzammar values and a great prospect for a brilliant girl from the smith caste. then when she’s less than twenty and he’s presumably around the same, she becomes a paragon, a living legend, the voice of the ancestors. they soar up to being a noble house in a role neither of them are prepared for. oghren goes from being a very desirable match socially to an uncultured hanger-on who doesn’t even have branka’s attention as she becomes obsessed with her work (and quietly seeks a lover elsewhere in her new house). when branka goes into the deep roads two years before the events of the game, she takes the whole house—except him. and she doesn’t come back. oghren’s the single leftover of a house with no head. he’s also a berserker with ptsd, and when he loses control of himself in the proving arena and kills a young man, he’s no longer allowed to fight within the city bounds. if he left it, he’d be casteless; but inside it, he’s not far from that, unable to be the warrior that orzammar’s culture has always told him it is his only role and purpose to be.

there’s a lot of orzammar caste and gender politics in all of that. the guard who tells you about oghren says that he might have been something to be afraid of before the assembly “practically gelded him” by banning him from fighting. losing your ability to perform your caste role is emasculating and oghren’s over-exaggerated masculinity in his crude jokes is a response to that perceived shame. even before the ban, orzammar has the biggest gender inequality of anywhere we’ve spent time in thedas, and there’s a lot of implied social loss in becoming the lesser partner to his wife. both because she’s a woman and was once a lesser caste than him. in his fade nightmare, he’s drunk in tapsters, as strangers berate him for being a shame to branka’s house, dragging it down. he’s openly mocked in the same way in orzammar for all of this. for him in this dream, and in his life prior to meeting the warden, it’s easier to drink than to listen

there’s a lot to get into about how orzammar treats its warriors. they’re sent against the horrors of the deep roads, taught to harness this berserker rage, to be the only thing that stands between their home and the darkspawn, and... then what? is there a system in place for taking care of those veterans? i doubt they hold the same value once they lose the ability to perform their caste role. oghren talks a little about this, but he’s not even able to conceptualise that he should have been helped, it’s more like, how could they teach me how to fight out there like that and expect me to be able to hold back in that proving fight? a warrior’s going to do what a warrior’s going to do! but i don’t think it’s a surprise that someone like oghren turns to alcohol and i sincerely doubt he’s alone in that. compare it to someone like warden brosca’s mother turning to alcohol to deaden herself to life in dust town, and you can see that the dwarven love of drink so often played for laughs is the weight of the caste system in action

[evelmiina]

Last week sketching. I tried doing an hour before work and some evenings, which is a real improvement for me. For some years now after work, I was very done with drawing/painting for the day and I rather played games or watched something, but currently I really enjoy drawing.

I want my drawings to have better structure overall, it's something that I especially hated studying so I never did it. Overall I'm not hugely into studying, because if I don't have clear idea for illustration or project I want to do it for, I don't really see point in doing grind for grind's sake. Right now I think it's more pleasant because I'm interested in doing better character illustration, and I know what will help me get there. Body rotation, hands and different angles especially fascinate me, because I want to be able to do interesting shapes and expression with those. First image is all from imagination but rest are referenced from photos.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello again, this is the second part of TFA Bumblebee's twin sibling.

Buddy also become fascinated by earth and, because of that, Prowl invites them to come watch the animals with him and learn more about earth's nature.

During that time Prowl and Buddy get to know each other better, they end up getting closer to the point Buddy's crush on Prowl goes from tiny to big.

Buddy's ends up getting more quiet and shy around Prowl because they don't know what to with those feelings.

Unknow to them, Prowl also returns those feelings.

Bumblebee starts teasing Buddy the moment he finds out they have a crush on Prowl.

Because, come on, he is their brother, it's basically his duty to embarrass them.

.

Bumblebee: I can't believe it, your first crush and is on the most boring bot ever.

Buddy: Oh, shut up!

.

But when he finds out Prowl also has a crush on his twin?

He becomes the "what are your intentions with my sibling" protective brother real quick and gives Prowl the shovel talk.

Is it because he thinks Prowl isn't good enough for his sibling? Not really, is mostly because he feels that it's his responsibility as Buddy's brother to act like this.

In the end, Bumblebee gives Prowl his approval to date his sibling and Prowl promises to Bumblebee that he will protect Buddy.

All righty! Part 2 of the last request!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy who's Bumblebee's twin with a crush on Prowl

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFA

The longer the team stayed on Earth the more Buddy fell in love with the planet.

From its people.

To the animals

To the plants.

It was so new and fresh, defiantly nothing that was on Cybertron.

They did miss Cybertron every now and then, but Earth was slowly becoming their new home.

Buddy and Sari had especially gotten close.

Buddy felt that they did owe Sari a bit, but it was mostly because they really did like Sari.

Buddy and Sari coming back to the base.

“And where were you two?”--Bumblebee

“We went to go see the new duck pond in the park.”--Buddy

Sari nodding.

“Yeah, and we got to feed them too.”--Sari

Sari and Buddy laugh a bit.

“Remember when that duck flew straight into your chassis?”--Sari

Buddy smiling widely.

“Only because you forgot to take the feed out! I still got feathers in me.”--Buddy

“Anyways, Sari I got the game set up—”--Bumblebee

“Not now Bumblebee. I’m gonna help Buddy paint their room.”--Sari

“Why? I’m much more fun than pain—and they left. Great…”--Bumblebee

Bulkhead sat next to him, patting his helm.

“It’s okay little buddy—”--Bulkhead

“I’m not that little!”--Bumblebee

Bee isn’t jealous.

He is very much.

He ends up nudging Buddy into hanging out with the team more so he can have more time to play with Sari.

This indirectly caused Buddy to start hanging out more with Prowl.

The two having a love for the organic nature of this planet often went outside of the plant to go look around.

It became their thing.

Buddy stumbled out of their room and running to the main room where Prowl was waiting for them.

“Sorry I’m late! I think Bumblebee mess up with my alarm’s.”--Buddy

Prowl chuckles a bit.

“No problem.”--Prowl

“I really thought you already left to the park by now. Why’d you wait?”--Buddy

Prowl stiffens a bit.

“You know more about the birds than I do.”--Prowl

“So that’s the only reason?”--Buddy

Prowl nervous sweats a bit before transforming.

“Shall we?”--Prowl

Buddy smiles at him and transforms.

“Ready when you are.”--Buddy

They never thought too hard about what was going on between them and Prowl. They were best friends, nothing more.

Right?

Best friends hung around each other all the time.

Best friends had sleepovers in each other’s rooms.

Best friends held servos sometimes.

Best friends sometimes felt a pounding in their chassis whenever the other was around.

Bets friends worried a lot about the others’ safety.

Best friends would take a blast to the chassis for the other.

Best friends would stare at each other for long periods of time.

Best friends often thought about each other when they slept—

Oh

Oh no…

They knew well this wasn’t some temporary thing.

They liked Prowl.

They really liked Prowl.

They needed to tell someone this.

And granted this was definitely not their best idea…

Buddy sitting with Bumblebee and Sari.

“So why do we have be here? Why not in the main room?”--Bumblebee

“Because I need to tell you guys something…”--Buddy

“And that’s something you can’t tell the team? Well, I’m all in for it! What is it?”--Bumblebee

“I…I…I like Prowl.”--Buddy

Buddy squints their optics shut not wanting to see their reactions.

Silence

“YYYYEEEEEEEE!”--Sari

Buddy quickly covers Sari’s mouth.

“Are trying to let the others know?!”--Buddy

“I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”--Sari

“Wait what?”--Buddy

Sari giving them a smug look.

“I knew it from the first week you liked Prowl. I’ve been shipping you guys since.”-Sari

“Shipping? Never mind.”--Buddy

Buddy looks at their twin nervously.

“Well?”--Buddy

Bumblebee busts out laughing.

“Nice one Buddy! But leave the pranks to me. We both know I’m better.”--Bumblebee

“Bumblebee, they’re not kidding.”--Sari

Bumblebee looks at his twin and then realizes their seriousness.

“Really? Prowl? Out of all the bots—you just had to pick the most boring bot in this side of the system.”--Bumblebee

“Hey! He is not boring!”--Buddy

“Buddy’s right.”--Bulkhead

Bulkhead is leaning a bit on the doorframe.

“Thank you, Bulkhead.”--Buddy

Silence.

“Bulkhead! What are you doing here!?”--Buddy

“We heard Sari scream and came in and…”--Bulkhead

“Excuse me did you say ‘we’?”--Buddy

Bulkhead moves a bit revealing Ratchet and Optimus.

Buddy looks like they are going to faint.

“…How much did you hear?”--Buddy

“About the stuff we already knew?”--Ratchet

Buddy buries their face in their servos.

“At least Prowl did hear you.”--Bulkhead

“I didn’t hear about what?”--Prowl

CRASH!

THUD!

Buddy had sprung out of the window of their room and landed hard on the ground outside.

Everyone moved towards the window.

Buddy is laying eagle spread outside on the slightly cracked pavement.

“…Sari—”--Optimus

“On my way.”--Sari

Apparently, everyone knew, except about their crush except Prowl himself.

Observant their tailpipe.

The rest of the team managed to get Prowl out of the base for a bit to talk more to Buddy about their crush on the Cyberninja.

There are a lot of mix comments on how to woo or confess to Prowl.

Bee kind of doesn’t care too much about it.

He thinks that all of this is a bit much preparation for something that could fade away in a couple of weeks.

…That was until Bee found about Prowl’s little secret.

Bumblebee hiding behind Prowl’s tree ready to spook him for once.

Prowl comes in slightly pacing, clearly frustrated and nervous.

Bee stops a bit wondering what is happening to his friend.

“Come one Prowl! How hard is it to form a simple sentence. Why can’t you just say it.”--Prowl

Prowl stops a bit trying to regain his composure.

“Okay let’s see… Buddy, I like you. No that’s too straight forward. Buddy… ever since we met, I feel a special connection to you that I can only describe as affection. No… still not right. Hey Buddy, would you like to go out with me?”--Prowl

Bumblebee jumping from behind the tree.

“You like Buddy!”--Bumblebee

Prowl jumping already taking out his weapon when he realizes who it is.

“Bumblebee! What are you doing here!”--Prowl

“You. Like. Buddy.”--Bumblebee

Prowl freezes a bit.

“How much—”--Prowl

“I heard all of the horrible ways that your trying to ask them out.”--Bumblebee

“…”--Prowl

Prowl sits on his berth with both servos on his face groaning.

Bumblebee walks in front of him with both of his servos on his hips.

“Okay Prowl, do you really like them?”--Bumblebee

Prowl removes his servos from his face.

“Of course I do.”--Prowl

“Meaning that you want to make them happy. Like the happiest bot in this world.”--Bumblebee

Prowl nodding.

“And wanting to protect them from any danger or Decepticon we ever come across?”--Bumblebee

“Yes, I would protect them with my spark.”--Prowl

Bumblebee stands still like he is thinking.

“I guess I approve then.”--Bumblebee

Prowl looking at him dumbfounded.

“Wait what? What do you mean?”--Prowl

“It means I approve you and Buddy getting together, duh.”--Bumblebee

“I…I would have thought you wouldn’t like us being together, at all.”--Prowl

“I don’t like the idea of my twin dating anyone, but I guess if you do what you said you were going to do, then I’m fine with it.”--Bumblebee

Prowl looking a bit hopeful.

“Thank you.”--Prowl

Bumblebee waving his servo.

“Yeah, yeah, now go work on those pick-up lines and confessions. Only the Allspark knows why they like you.”--Bumblebee

“They what?”--Prowl

Bumblebee’s optics widen at the mistake, while Prowl’s widen in happiness.

“Ummm… what? I didn’t say anything!”--Bumblebee

“…”--Prowl

“Prowl?”--Bumblebee

“…”--Prowl

“Sari! I think I broke Prowl!”--Bumblebee

Prowl ended up confessing to Buddy later that week in front of the tree in his room under the full moon light.

He did think about doing it better in the park, but he didn’t want to risk something bad happening, and his room was the best place he could think of that also held significant value to the pair.

As a bonus, the team would be out on patrol while he would gather the nerves to confess.

The team returning from patrol.

“Remind me why Prowl couldn’t come today?”--Bumblebee

“He said he needed to do something and needed Buddy’s help with it.”--Optimus

“Hmmm. Wonder what that—”--Bulkhead

Bulkhead stops in the middle of the way.

“Bulkhead what are you—Oh.”--Ratchet

“What ‘oh’? What is—Oh. Oh!”--Optimus

“All right move it we can’t see!”--Bumblebee

Bumblebee and Sari move to the front to see what was going on.

On the sofa Prowl was sitting next to Buddy.

Buddy’s helm was resting on Prowl’s chassis as his arm went around their body, pulling them into a hug.

All while watching a nature documentary.

“HEY! NO KISSING!”--Bumblebee

Both bots jump up at the sudden noise.

“Bumblebee!”--Buddy

Buddy begins to chase their twin around the base feeling like their entire face was on fire.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”--Ratchet

Prowl sighs as Buddy manages to tackle Bee down.

“Wouldn’t have them any other way.”--Prowl

[inbarfink]

The deaths of all the Finch kids are really so unbearably tragic. It really speaks to the quality of the writing and storytelling in ‘What Remains’. They’re written as so vivid and human and real, but also so many of them died so young. They were children, it’s so much harder for me to do the whole ‘well, let’s appreciate the life they did have’ thing when the majority of them didn’t even have a chance to become the people they could have become. And yet the image of who they could’ve been if they survived is so vivid in my mind. 

Edith had that line about how she always imagined Molly as a girl she could be good friends with. Obviously if she didn’t die back in 1947 they wouldn’t really be at the same age group, but she’d be one hell of a Cool Aunt. I can only imagine her Weird Girl tendencies would’ve only grown stronger and stronger with age. Considering her fascination with animals, maybe she would’ve gone to study Zoology or Biology when she grew older? And since she was dissecting a sea star just before her canon death…

Sadly, I’m not sure if Barbara would’ve been able to resurrect her acting career. But there’s some subtle hints in her room that in reality she was more willing to move past it compared to her fictionalized version in that horror comic (which can’t be easy when you live in a room your dad themed entirely around your child-star years THANKS SVEN). That ‘horror convention’ seems to be an invention of the comic, Barbara’s actual room has a flier for a ‘Witch’s Ball’ at Orcas Island High School and a dress ready for it. 

Barbara Finch didn’t actually spend her last day on earth hopelessly trying to revive her dead career, she was hoping to have a fun Halloween party like a regular teenager. Maybe the fact that it was hosted by the Orcas Island High School Drama Club implies she still had an interest in acting and theatre. Maybe she could’ve ended up as a classically trained actress with the child-stardom as just a fun quirk of her past? Or maybe she just wanted to take part in the Witches Ball because she likes Spooky Things? And she could have found her way back into the Horror Scene in a different way, like being a writer or costume designer or something?

Maybe Calvin could’ve become an Astronaut like he always wanted? But I think Calvin might’ve been more enthralled with the fantasy of science fiction than the reality of space travel. I’m thinking a lot about how Sam described Clavin in Gregory’s memoriam as ‘lost in his imagination’. Maybe he could’ve become a science fiction writer or something?

Walter didn’t technically die young, but he still certainly lost most of his years to the Curse. Like, a big thing about the tragedy of Walter to me is realizing his original childhood bedroom was themed after “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” and trains. 

Lil’ Walter did have an interest in adventure and travel, before his fears took it all away from him. If it wasn’t for the Curse, Walter could’ve actually something with it. Maybe he could’ve traveled around a bit and written about his experiences.

Lewis would’ve probably gone into game design. It’s not just how his fantasies manifest to us the players, but you can actually find books about game design and coding in his room. It seems that the problem was that his crappy job and his depression took away any opportunity he might have had to actually pursue this idea. Maybe if Milton never left, these three Finch siblings could’ve combined their creative skills together to make like, a very cool artsy game.

Speaking of which… man, Edith’s death stings the most because we got to know her far better than anyone else. And it’s not even the fact that she never got to share her all of her thoughts and creativity with the wider world that makes me the saddest. Getting to the end of the game and hearing just how much she was looking forwards to be with her son - even with all the hardships of being a teen mom, she was really looking forwards to it. To meet him, to share her stories with him. But instead, that worn old diary is the only connection between them...

And that’s like… part of what’s so great about WRoEF’s use of its own format. Like, the faux-interactive linearity of the Narrative Exploration/‘Walking Simulator’ is so perfect for selling this tragedy. The way each Death Flashback only moves forwards based on the actions of the Player, but it always moves on the same unchanging doomed path - really highlights both how stupidly preventable so many of these deaths feel and really make the Player wish there was a way to change them. After all, all they need is for Calvin to not swing so hard, for Gregory’s faucet to not turn back on, for Walter to not stand directly on those train tracks and everything would’ve been fine. But at the same time it’s so, so clear to the Player that this is an impossible wish. There is no other way these sequences can go - these deaths have already been written. The most you can you is linger, all you can do is delay the inevitable. 

But it hurts.

[kismet-cat]

Something I’ve been thinking about a lot is how Jowd and Yomiel are parallel to each other. They’re both so stuck in worldviews that are blatantly wrong- Jowd thinking everything is his fault, and Yomiel thinking everything is the fault of everyone BUT him. To an outside observer, both these views are totally stupid, but the two of them feel like they HAVE to believe it or else everything they’re doing will be for nothing. If jowd is wrong, that means kamila did it, and he can’t let himself believe his kid could do that, it would destroy him. He’s so willing to take on the guilt because he feels responsible for not stopping the tragedy- even when it was literally impossible for him to foresee or stop. If Yomiel is wrong, then it means that literally everything he’s been doing since dying is useless and he’s the one responsible for the deaths of both Sissels, and he can’t believe that or he’ll sink even further down. So the two of them both push on, warping the truth until it suits their narratives, both of which are steeped in self-hatred. It’s a good thing they never met up before their respective character developments- like Yomiel said, Jowd would have loved to be executed by his own daughter. Sorry for talking so much I just think they’re fascinating!!! I love ghost trick!!!

No need to apologize, I love hearing other people's Ghost Trick takes/analysis! Especially along these lines!

This specific parallel is def one I've thought about too, and you put it very well! For me, it all comes back to the set of questions I posed in this post as being at the core of Ghost Trick's story:

1. When something terrible happens to you, what do you do with that trauma? 2. When you do something terrible, when you make a terrible mistake, what do you do with that guilt?

Like you said, Jowd is a person who, in response to both questions, internalizes all the blame; whereas Yomiel, in response to both (pre Chapter 17), externalizes all his hatred. And yes, from an outside perspective they're kind of ridiculous — just look at how many chatters in the secret sleepover society streams (and other lps I've watched) have been reacting to Jowd as a character.

But one of the things fiction arguably exists for is to present characters that take such ideas to such extremes for the sake of exploring those questions and making a greater point; it's the premise "What if there was guy who ___? Wouldn't that be fucked up or what?". And for me (and a lot of people, clearly) Ghost Trick succeeds in getting you to take those characters seriously, because they and the people around them take their own stakes seriously, while ultimately making it clear that their responses were irrational.

...And hey, while I'm here:

Cabanela's answer to the second question is to bury all evidence of it, to Not Think About It, to become (or at least project the image of) a person who would never make that kind of mistake. Meanwhile, his answer to the first question, if we say the terrible thing in question is his best friend confessing to killing his wife and asking to be executed, is to dedicate himself to trying to undo it, to set things right, everything else in his life be damned.

These answers are "better" than Jowd's and Yomiel's — they certainly cause less extreme collateral damage — but they still aren't ideal. After all, Ghost Trick is a game that highly values the forging/maintaining of bonds with others and being honest/open with them as the key to both parties' success. It's what saves the day in the end. Without Sissel, all Cabanela's efforts to save Jowd and protect Lynne would have amounted to nothing.

No, the person with the "correct" answer is Lynne. She doesn't really have to grapple with the second question (which is maybe my personal biggest disappointment with her character), but her answer to the first question is clear: Become the kind of person who prevents such things from happening to others, or who can be the one to help them when it does. Always believe in people, and in the ability of things to turn out right.

Now, it must be said: the reason she comes to this answer is not because she was born a perfect idealist. It's because, in that worst moment of her life, someone was there to save and then reassure her; to inspire her. Jowd.

It's her truth, but it's not, say, Yomiel's.

But. It's a truth that inspires the rest of the cast (Sissel and Jowd primarily). And, because of her insistence in it, they're able to go back, defy fate, and make it The Truth of the narrative.

(Sissel similarly only has to really deal with the first question because Reasons, and his answer evolves over the course of the game, from "focus on the wrong that was done to you and what you can do to make yourself feel better about it above everything and everyone else" (doesn't that sound familiar?) to be more aligned with Lynne: "use what you learned/gained from that unfortunate occurrence to help others". And Missile is basically on the "right" wavelength the whole time, which is why everyone agrees he's the Bestest Boy.)

[mikashida]

u seem like u have a lot of wolverine headcanons pls ... 🤲

you've enabled my rambling just know that you did this to yourself. I do also wanna quickly disclaimer I've not read many of the x men let alone wolverine comics so idk how much of this *is* canon or has been mentioned, I was raised by people who thought comics were evil and would "Turn Me Gay" so I only got to watch the movies because obviously movies can't turn you gay (they did)

most of these are kinda depressing the only funny one is the first one

for like General Headcanons that would apply to all variants i 10000% believe the gruff gravelly voice is fake and he just Does That intentionally. I'm not saying his voice isn't deep but the whole like "ruruuuhughgh. im trhe best at what i do but what i do best aint very nice hnrnrghh..." is overplayed. so when he gets nervous or caught off guard his voice raises like at least half an octave. to illustrate what I mean here's a cutscene from the origins game

I also think he tries to drink to slow his healing factor and not necessarily to get buzzed. this is pretty much canon in Logan, but even outside of that canon he's very often been shown to at Least be fascinated by the idea of being mortally wounded if not genuinely suicidal at times and i imagine drinking consistently kinda fucks with that. like let's say he's physically harmed while intoxicated i figure it would probably hurt more/heal slower than it would if he was sober if that makes sense.

to continue with that i think he's tried to kill himself a lot and not in the funny way that deadpool does (like when he shoots himself in the game to get out of a conversation with colossus lmfao) (not saying that deadpool hasnt Genuinely tried to either though) probably doesn't bother anymore but imagine being like fuckin 20 years old and you cant die and you have So Much ptsd and no way to deal with it because its the fucking 1800s

i generally think his ptsd affects him a lot more than the movies and comics let on, which I understand because it's not easy to write when you don't have experience with it. I think it was written really well in deadpool and wolverine though, I am very tired of the perfect victim trope and I like that this logan is actually. kind of a horrible person (I have more headcanons about that but I will stop with this one). he failed his world and that made him the man that saved the universe, but that doesn't cancel out his wrongdoings, and now that he has people in his life again he has a responsibility to do better for those around him

tldr wolverine has issues and i want to make them worse

[l0vergirlatheart]

Hello! I have this idea/request for sagau loosely based off of me and my friend’s dynamic where there are two separate creators. Like, not two reader clones or smth just two separate people, either of them can be reader, or both??? Idk, just do whatever you want with this idea :)

They both play genshin, and both of their accs r self aware. One of them is a whale who has all the characters and plays everyday. However, they dont know much about building characters because their fav part of the game is the lore and knows a lot abt it and always talks while playing. The other is a f2p that plays for several weeks straight before taking along break, and only has their fav characters (COUGH wanderer COUGH) and they are the type to never speak AT ALL while gaming. They also have more of a meta player mindset while building their fav characters and doesnt care for much for the lore.

I just like to imagine how the genshin cast would react to them in coop, especially for the first time. Just seeing one of them rant to the other about the lore or seeing one of them one shot all the enemies. And imagine two if the same characters from the different accs meeting each other.

absolutely love the idea of two wanderers as that silly little fucking spiderman meme

also there's scaramouche instead of wanderer for now for the plot

DOUBLES! ft. scaramouche and albedo

c.w // spoilers for sumeru quest and scara's backstory, heavy(?) angst in scara's part, pet names BECAUSE I CAN!!1!11!! GRAHH

start under cut

ALBEDO

"What are these talent levels?? Why'd you crown Albedo's normal attack? It's the most useless in his kit- you know you should've leveled his Skill, right?" You said, while you looked at your friends Albedo- it honestly hurt to look at.

"Uh.. Yeah, I totally knew that.. I just was.. testing it.. out..?" Your friend mumbled into their mic, obviously lying.

Meanwhile, in one of your worlds, two Albedos were silently watching the other.

'Why is there another me? I could've swore I killed Dorian.. but he also has a star mark. It looks exactly like mine.' They both thought to themselves.

Eventually, one of them spoke out.

"Who are you?" Albedo said, staring at the other blankly, the smallest bit of confusion and fascination only seen if you truly tried to look for it hard within his eyes.

"I am Albedo."

"I am also Albedo. Are you sure you're really 'Albedo'?"

"Are you sure you're Albedo?"

This went on for a while.. neither of them were like this usually, but the other just wouldn't give up. Both were persistent when curiosity had peaked, and this just got very interesting.

end : 1/2

SCARAMOUCHE

"...well, that was one hell of a boss fight.." You mumbled under your breath.. you had barely managed to make it out of Scaramouche's boss fight alive-- half of your characters were dead, and the others were barely hanging on by a thread-- you truly need to thank the ancient Genshin cooks for Sweet Madames and Chicken Mushroom Skewers..

"It sucks that Scara really thinks that about himself. I mean, sure, he was abandoned by Raiden, but not because he was weak or anything. It's really because she just didn't want to control every aspect of his life, but there are of course, better ways she could've done that. You do have to understand that both made mistakes that lead them to where they are now, and..." You went off on a ramble, and unbeknownst to you, a certain purple-haired boy was listening to everything that spilled from your lips.

Everything he's ever known and believed in-- it was all just.. just a misunderstanding? He felt hopeless all of a sudden, he felt like falling.. and he did.

That's when you looked back at the screen, suddenly knocked out of your rambling state and (semi)yelled out, "Oh shit, ain't nobody gonna catch him?!" ...and nobody did. You silently flinched at the sound of the impact-- even through a screen, you could tell that hurt horribly.

"Oh no, poor darling.." You mumbled sympathetically as you read each and every word stated and said during the 'quest,' just like you did with each and every other one. You knew all of this yet you still felt so sad for the poor puppet Scaramouche. He really didn't deserve any of that, you thought to yourself as you wished you could've done something, or that you could do something.. if only it weren't through a screen.

Scaramouche hated being pitied, but maybe.. maybe if it was you, he didn't mind, and maybe he felt a small sense of pride because it meant in some way, and at some point, you cared for him.. and that filled him with more joy than either of you realized, and much more joy than you ever will even think.

end : 2/2

[silvergreenseraphim]

I am still reading through Ultimania translations like a certain someone in the data room…

Here are some curious notes on our Jenova Project scientists, Vincent, and Sephiroth that I know you will all appreciate.

That note about Hojo envying Gast and his genius—please keep this in mind. It will come into play for these next translations.

The research on Omega and the Kalm experiments were also in the Shinra manor. It makes you wonder if Sephiroth read any of that and further saw how cruel Shinra was.

The Jenova cell flashes in Sephiroth’s mind that we saw in the Rebirth demo can be seen in this image from the Crisis Core guide.

This is where everything becomes more interesting. Something not fully explained in DOC is Lucrecia’s own deterioration. It would appear that Vincent confronted Hojo over this after Sephiroth was born and taken away (or did he?). Lucrecia was falling to pieces it seems. (We will come back to this).

(Small note, but it looks like Vincent actually did propose to Lucrecia).

The next pile of notes are from the older Ultimania Omega from 2005, and some debate the validity of the text and whether it still holds true to current canon. However, if we are willing to consider Crisis Core from 2007 as canon, then I see no issue with this Ultimania unless something is directly changed.

For our Jenova project scientists, there is just more detail not spoken in the game. Some of it is fascinating and helpful.

I take this information as extra insight that the original game did not give us and mostly canon as well. Reading it felt like a stab to the chest even if I knew most of it.

We know from DOC that Lucrecia did love Vincent in the end, but during their time together she pushed him away because of the guilt with his father and gave into her love for Hojo instead.

It is….strange but that line from the CC guide about Hojo’s envy of Gast was apparently a concept here too. It supposedly was so strong that it brought out a maternal love in Lucrecia. Very likely this was before Hojo was completely mad and murderous.

I also wonder if Lucrecia’s affection was only that overall. A feeling that didn’t last when she realized Hojo’s complex was destructive and not “cute.”

These are the details some debate and I believe it has been for shipping reasons in the past…but as a non-shipper, I can see this happening with such a complex group of people.

The next bit about Lucrecia’s deterioration is also odd because it almost sounds as though Lucrecia disappeared only because of her body’s collapse. DOC once again changed the order of these events to where Lucrecia left after failing to save Vincent and losing her son.

It also looks like Vincent confronted Hojo much earlier. We are now left to interpretation maybe since DOC’s own timeline is hard to follow. There are plenty of people who have these events better thought through than me.

But if we combine all of these details together and ignore the timeline, we have more reasons for Lucrecia’s breakdown in general. Vincent’s bodily corruption, the loss of Sephiroth, and Lucrecia’s own degradation. We may not know the very order of every event until Rebirth or the third game, which is okay. These are still good details.

This hurts so much and I do not even need to explain why, ahaha. Hojo is so, so cruel to his own family.

I have recently pulled a translation from this section which some of you may recognize. All of the small details make me emotional 🥲

And this is the last one I wanted to share. I cannot stop thinking about Hojo’s inferiority complex with Gast because we know Sephiroth looked up to and admired Gast from a young age. How bitter Hojo must have been that his own son adored a man he hated. The implications of how complicated this could have made their relationship are endless. No wonder Hojo murdered Gast without hesitation. A walking mass of complexes indeed.

I think this is so emotional for me because of The First Soldier and Rebirth now. These details matter for enrichment.

Edit: I should once again clarify what I think about the 2005 Ultimania because there are fans that dismiss it thanks to its questionable text in spots. I believe that if a note from this book does not directly contradict currently established canon, then it may be safe to take in as context enrichment.

For example, all of the information about Sephiroth here is still accurate to the most recent depictions of his character, but there are small details added about why he believed he was different.

I do not see any reason to fully dismiss this because it does no harm to canon and does not go against what we have seen even in recent media like Ever Crisis.

On the other hand, the information about Lucrecia and when she left and why is much more fragile because Dirge of Cerberus added a new take on her motives. For this reason, I will only cherry-pick. I would say the detail about deterioration is accurate because that was hinted at in DOC but it’s no longer the only reason she left.

But everyone should make up their own minds on how to approach this Ultimania.