#but then I would erase a work that I could not erase

[pearlwonyo]

۶ৎ ──── FOCUS 【 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑒 】

𝐴LTERNATIVELY ⦂ ℎ𝑜𝑤 en- would react to their crush asking to borrow a pencil ㅤ｡ ｡ ｡

【 あかり 】 ⟡ 𝑓luff , 𝑓em!reader , 𝑠chool 𝑎u, 𝑙oser 𝑒n-, 1.22k, 𝑓irst 𝑝ost— hope you enjoy it!!

HEESEUNG ⟡

rummaging through your backpack, you sigh as you turn back around to face the board. you forgot your pencil case. “get out your notebooks and pens, we’re annotating today.” the teacher says blankly, making you groan in frustration. you would ask hanni next to you, but she’s absent.

looking around, you see heeseung, but it looked like he was already staring at you before you two made eye contact. when you caught him, you could see him visibly blush and get slightly nervous. you lean over and ask, “sorry to bother you, but may i borrow a pencil?” heeseung just sits there, gazing at you with those deer / doe eyes of his before snapping back into reality, nodding.

he hands you a pencil, his hands shaking with slight tremor. when you grab it, his hand stays on yours for a little too long before he pulls away. you smile softly and say, “thanks, hee.” which made him blush even more.

𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ⟡

as you walk into class, you find yourself through the messy backpack you had packed mere minutes ago. god, of course you forgot your pencil case out of all things. “class, take out a piece of paper and pencils.” the teacher announced, making you annoyed and bite your lip.

you look over to your right side and see your deskmate, beomgyu, taking a nap. you sigh before looking to your left, seeing jay stare at you. you look down at his desk and see his pencil case practically overflowing with school supplies.

“jay, do you think i could borrow a pencil?” you ask, glancing down at his pouch before returning your gaze back to him. you could see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink before he smiles softly and nods.

“yeah, of course.” jay says, sitting up straight and taking out a pencil. as he hands it to you, you could see his eyes lingering on your lips before back to your eyes. “thank you.” you mutter before turning back to do your work.

JAEYUN ⟡

you were already as tired from running after the bus as it is, why did your day have to get worse? you forgot your pencil case for christ’s sake. the teacher then said something along the lines of, “you’ll need a pencil and highlighters for this assignment.” you were too busy staring at jake’s collection of fresh pencils and pastel highlighters.

leaning over slightly, you whisper, “hey, think i could borrow some of those? i forgot my pencil case at home..” jake blushes at the sight of you merely asking him for few supplies, but acts chill about it as he runs his hands through his hair— something you noticed he did often.

“yeah, go ahead, take anything you need.” he says, giving a friendly smile. you smile back and nod as you take some of his supplies.

as the lesson starts, you could feel his loving gaze on you. he feels some type of warmness in his stomach knowing that you came to him first to ask for a favor. even though it was such a small thing, that interaction definitely made his day.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ⟡

he noticed you slamming your head on your desk quietly after groaning. you forgot your pencil case for the fourth time this week. your teacher then wrote on the board in bold letters, “supplies: pencil and pen— required,” almost as if it was targeted directly to you.

you were too shy to ask anyone for a pencil right now, probably cause the whole class saw you walk in late with an americano in your hands. looking around, everyone has pencil and pens out. you’d ask natty, but she’s already locked in.

you sighed, giving up right before sunghoon gets up and passed by your desk, dropping a pencil, eraser, highlighters , and even some pens by your hand before going to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, pretending to grab a napkin before heading back to his desk. on his way back, you see his ears and cheeks red as if he was a tomato.

as he sits down, you turn to him and word out, “thank you.” he smiles before waving it off, silently telling you that it was no big deal. but it was a big deal for him. just the thought of being next to you was overwhelming to him, so this was a huge thing for him.

SUNOO ⟡

you have your airpods in, covering it with your hair as you look in your backpack for your beloved pencil case. you pause, the music still playing softly in your ear. oh no. you forgot your pencil case.

you sigh softly, taking out your headphones and putting them away. turning back around to face your desk, someone taps your shoulder. you shift to look over your shoulder and see sunoo’s cute fox eyes staring at you innocently.

your eyes drop down to his hands which were holding a pencil and eraser, along with two highlighters. “it looks like you forgot your pencil case, so you could borrow mine.” he says, smiling with blush spreading on his cheeks.

“oh, really? thank you so much..” you reply, taking them, bowing your head slightly. he’s so adorable, you think to yourself, turning away once again. throughout the lecture you could feel his eyes watching you, admiring you from behind as you wrote and drew.

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ⟡

you already knew from the moment you stepped outside your house that you forgot something you need. that “something” being your one and only pencil case. zipping your backpack, you let out a heavy sigh.

your deskmate, jungwon, then speaks up, his voice soft yet firm, “y/n? did you forget your pencil case? you could borrow mine if you’d like.”

turning your head to him, you smile, seeing the redness on his cheekbones and the obvious nervousness in his behavior. “thank you, i appreciate it.. mr. choi would’ve definitely yelled at me.”

taking some pencils, you can’t help but think about how cute jungwon was when he was blushing so hard. even now, you could still somehow tell how fast his heart was beating. small favors go a long way, they say. maybe that’s what’s happening right now.

RIKI ⟡

being the hot mess you are, of course you had to forget your pencil case. as you helplessly rummaged in your bag, it practically looked like you were digging for gold. after a few seconds of confirming that it truly wasn’t there, you groan, turning back in your seat. a rather deep voice near you then questioned, “need some of these?” you turn your head towards the voice since it seemed like the person was talking to you. riki. he was holding pencils, pens, and highlighters.

you didn’t expect for someone like him to be so organized and neat. you nod, smiling softly as you take the supplies. riki tried so hard to act nochalant as you came closer to him, even touching his hand, but failed as he blushed from your mere presence of being close to him.

the only person who made him lose his cool was you, period. “thanks, i really needed it.” you thank him, returning back to your seat.

you could feel him stealing glances at you the whole entire lesson, making you question if he was really doing the work. the only person to blame for this matter was really yourself, though. you’re the one who’s distracting the normally composed riki.

© pearlwonyo — 2025

[windser]

where the apple falls

pairing: amnesia, exbf! caleb x reader rating: t wc: 1700+ a/n: based off this post. this will be a series of drabbles. i will also be working on other exbf! caleb verse. that is the trope for him the resonates most with me. after reading his story, i'm soooo excited to write about him. happy to take requests relating to both tropes!

“hmm, jian bing? normally i have to accumulate quite a bit of favors to wake up to this. what’s the occasion?”

a homemade cure to job memory loss, sits on your tongue like a secret. but you swallow it down, tasting every word you can’t admit. it’s only been a week. since then, caleb has seen the physicians once more—three days since returning to your home for a follow-up.

but just those seventy-two hours had felt like distant memory. the first morning had been the most jarring. caleb had walked into the apartment as if he’d only returned from a day at work, not nearly a week in the hospital, though even the small missed him longer. his only moment of hesitation was the brief pause when his eyes caught on the small changes you had made since the breakup.

the furniture remained the same—too much hassle to replace—but you'd taken quiet, deliberate steps to erase him. gone were the photos of shared milestones, absent were his awards and accolades. the tangible pieces of caleb had vanished, leaving only the slowly healing void in your heart.

the physician had given you ample time to prepare your home for his discharge, clear instructions to recreate a familiar space that mirrored the fragments of his memory. but you’d balked at the thought of resurrecting the past. now the remnants of the last four years were still stored away in the recesses of your closet. 

selfish, perhaps. misguided, maybe. but a part of you refused to accept the accident—not just the memory loss, but the implausibility of it all. caleb, always composed, prepared for anything? reduced now to a vulnerable man clinging to fractured echoes of what was? 

it didn’t sit right with you.

you watched as his gaze drifted over the near-barren walls and mismatched artwork. his jaw tightened, barely perceptibly, lips parting as if testing words that refused to form. his shoulders rose once, twice, then sagged in quiet surrender before he turned to you with a smile so perfectly broken it felt like a carefully crafted illusion.

"still in the middle of some deep cleaning, huh? i appreciate you getting everything ready for me to come back home. why don't I help get it back in order?"

at the check-up, the physician warned you: patience was crucial. recovery couldn’t be rushed without risking setbacks. most cases resolved themselves with time, they assured you.

just be patient.

“i thought some of your favorites would help you remember” you offered instead, glancing over your shoulder quickly before turning your attention back to the stove. “it’s almost done.”

caleb didn’t respond at first as he sat down at the kitchen bar, still dressed in his sleepwear. he couldn’t have been up for more than a few minutes, likely just long enough to take his part of medication before arriving. the others would require a meal to go with them.

“i couldn’t have missed that much,” he said finally, voice laced with casual dismissal. “i don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

it was eerie, how easily he brushed off nearly a year of his life.

you set a cup of coffee down in front of him with a mishandled grimace. “this is serious, caleb. you can’t just report a wrong date and think everyone is going to write it off. ” it was becoming just a bit more than a little frustrating how light he took the situation. 

his hand shot out, catching your wrist before you could turn away. his grip was firm but not unkind, his thumb brushing absently over your pulse.

“i am taking it seriously,” he said quietly, his eyes steady on yours. “do you understand how troubling it is to hear you've lost months of time?”

“could have fooled me.” you mumbled under your breath, tugging half-heartedly at his arm.

“what was that?” his voice sharpened slightly. “it doesn’t help when you mutter.”

you exhaled sharply, meeting his gaze. “i said you’re not exactly helping yourself, caleb. It was okay at first to adjust. i know you were in pain, and it was jarring, but—” your voice cracked, the words caught in your throat. you cleared it hastily, averting your eyes. the physicians had warned you to avoid accusations, anything that might exacerbate his confusion or headaches. caleb’s expression tightened as he read the unspoken in your hesitation.

“but?” he pressed. his grip on your arm loosened, though he didn’t let go.

“it doesn’t feel like you’re trying to get better,” you said, wincing as you braced for his reaction.

instead, you felt the soft press of his lips against your temple.

“i don’t even know what ‘better’ looks like,” he murmured. “I’m doing what i was told. resuming routines. beyond that…” his thumb brushed your cheek as he trailed off. “you’ve got your orders too. sure you’re doing your part?”

you shoved at his chest, though there was no real force behind it. “that’s not funny.”

he didn’t laugh, though his eyes glinted with suppressed amusement. “okay okay, i know. it’s just... a lot to process. being told your life isn’t what you thought it was.” he sipped his coffee. “i mean, what could i have possibly missed?”

your gaze dropped to the mug, a relic of the past—the one you’d gifted him when he got his fleet position. “a lot, caleb. a lot.”

“well, they told me to take it one step at a time. i’m still processing it all. still can’t believe the news headlines”

“pretty sure you were told to not overwhelm yourself,” you countered.

he shrugged. “i binged all the new seasons of our sitcoms. i get bored.”

“and nothing triggered even the smallest memory?”

“it might help if you just told me what i’m forgetting.”

you stiffened, jaw tight. “you’re supposed to recall them naturally.”

caleb leaned back, studying you with quiet intensity. “then we just keep going as we were. i have you, and you have me. what else matters?”

“caleb…” your voice faltered, a lump rising in your throat. “that’s not—”

“i’m sorry.” his tone softened as he tugged you closer. “i know this is hard for you too. there are probably things you want to tell me…” his hands steadied you as he guided you onto his lap.

your faces were so close now that you could feel the faint heat radiating from him, a warmth that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. it struck you as almost cruelly ironic how, in a way, you were both reliving memories—but only you felt the hollow ache of the gaps between them. you could count every one of his dark lashes, each one a delicate frame to the deep gaze fixed on you. and then your eyes betrayed you, flickering downward to caleb’s mouth: light pink, nicely shaped, and far too familiar. you knew, if you gave in and pressed your lips to his, they’d taste soft, warm, and faintly of coffee.

“yeah,” you replied, though your voice was barely more than a breath.

“yeah,” caleb echoed with a faint, lopsided quirk to his lips. “just… give me a bit more time, okay? right now, despite the aches in my body, nothing has ever felt more right. it’s always been like this with you.” his voice softened, becoming something raw and fragile. “i wouldn’t trade this for anything. not even for the memories I’ve lost.”

“that’s not okay, caleb,” you said tersely, the words rising unbidden in your throat. “you can’t just disregard the past—or the future.”

his head tilted slightly as he studied you, something unspoken glimmering in his eyes. for a moment, silence stretched thin between you before, without warning, caleb stood up. you barely had time to react before you were flipped upside down, your world spinning as blood rushed to your head.

“caleb, what are you doing!?” you yelped, hands scrambling to clutch the fabric of his shirt in tight fists.

“just hang on,” he said, voice far too calm for the chaos he’d just unleashed.

he carried you the short distance to the couch with an unsettling ease, his shins pressing against the edge before he lowered you onto the cushions. a pillow fell to the floor in his wake, discarded like an afterthought.

in the shock of it all, you barely registered his hands threading gently through your hair, the sensation grounding you even as your mind reeled. his gaze traced the lines of your body as though committing them to memory, an intensity that made your breath hitch. caleb had always been intense, after all—a force that could bring everything in its path to kneel. that much hadn’t changed. but now, there was something else. a weight behind his actions, a shadow you couldn’t quite name.

he wasn’t holding you down, but his presence blanketed you, toeing the fragile line between comfort and constraint.

when his lips descended, it felt inevitable, like the pull of gravity. a soft, tentative brush at first, before returning with more intensity, more hunger, as if savoring the moment like a man starved. his kiss was familiar in all the ways that made your heart ache, every motion perfectly attuned to what you liked, what you craved.

when Caleb finally pulled away, you instinctively leaned forward, chasing the warmth of his mouth. but he had already shifted, his lips grazing along your jaw, leaving a trail of nips and feather-light kisses in his wake.

it was still caleb. caleb, who always knew exactly how to undo you.

your eyes fluttered open, stealing a glance at him as he kissed the curve of your neck. you weren’t sure what you were looking for—a sign, a clue—but all you saw was caleb. just caleb.

despite it all.

despite your suspicions.

he was okay.

and despite everything, the thought of losing him still felt unbearable.

caleb sighed softly, leaning back to look at you. his hand drifted to your face, a knuckle brushing against your cheek in a gesture so tender it made your chest tighten. you leaned into his touch without thinking.

“i’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. “i always do.”

and in that moment, as his words settled in the space between you, you couldn’t quite recall why that wasn’t a good thing.

[ssa-danhotchner]

Happier | Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Years after their breakup, y/n struggles with seeing Hotch move on with his new partner, Beth, while still working alongside him every day.

cw: use of y/n, past relationship, heartbreak, angst?, themes of moving on, Haley mentioned. let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1k

note: English isn't my first language so please be kind. I had the entire sour album stuck in my head. Please give me some ideas to write

The sound of laughter echoed faintly through the bullpen as the last of the team packed up for the night. You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. The words of your report blurred together, the glowing monitor casting pale light over your exhausted face. You didn’t even know why you were still there; everyone else had gone home.

Everyone, except for him.

Aaron Hotchner.

It had been years since the two of you had ended things, but the wound never seemed to fully heal. Time had dulled the ache, sure, but it hadn’t erased the memories.

You could still see the way he’d smile when it was just the two of you, the way his hand would linger on yours longer than necessary, the way he whispered your name like it was the only word that mattered. Back then, it felt like you had something unshakable, something real. But life had a way of pulling people apart, and for you and Aaron, it had been no different.

It wasn’t a dramatic breakup. There were no screaming matches, no accusations hurled in the heat of the moment. It had been quiet, almost agonizingly so. You’d both known it was over before either of you said the words. The demands of his job, his grief over Haley, and the ever-present weight of being a single father—it was too much for him to bear. And you, despite loving him more than anything, hadn’t been enough to bridge the growing gap between you.

“I can’t give you what you deserve,” he’d said that night, his voice heavy with regret. “You deserve more than stolen moments and half-hearted promises.”

And that had been it.

You had cried, of course. For weeks, maybe months. But you told yourself you’d be fine, that you’d move on. You tried to convince yourself that his words weren’t true, that you could have made it work. But deep down, you knew he was right.

Still, knowing it was the right thing didn’t make it any easier.

Now, years later, you had settled into a new normal. Working alongside him every day was a constant reminder of what you’d lost, but you’d learned to compartmentalize. You had to. There was no room for personal feelings when lives were on the line.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself.

Your eyes drifted to his office, where the light was still on. Through the glass, you could see him sitting at his desk, his phone pressed to his ear. His face softened as he spoke, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You knew who he was talking to.

Beth.

The name tasted bitter on your tongue, though you hated yourself for it. She was kind, warm, and good for him. You’d never met her formally, but you’d heard enough to know she made him happy. And wasn’t that what you wanted? For him to be happy?

But it wasn’t that simple.

Because every time you saw him with her—every time you heard him mention her in passing—it felt like someone was twisting a knife in your chest. You wanted him to be happy, but not like this. Not with her.

I hope you’re happy, but not like how you were with me.

The lyrics played on a loop in your mind, echoing your most selfish thoughts. You wanted to believe he still thought of you, that some small part of him missed what you’d shared. But the rational part of you knew better. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t the type to dwell on the past. He had moved on.

“Hey.”

His voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see him standing in front of your desk, his expression tinged with concern.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I could say the same to you” you replied, forcing a small smile.

He didn’t return it. “You should go home. It’s late.”

“I will” you said, though you had no intention of leaving just yet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt heavy, weighed down by all the things left unsaid.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally, his dark eyes searching yours.

You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

He nodded, but you could tell he didn’t quite believe you.

“Goodnight, y/n” he said softly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Goodnight, Hotch”

You watched him walk away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet of the bullpen.

Once he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, the weight in your chest threatening to crush you. You hated how much power he still had over you, how his presence could unravel you so completely.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes, letting the memories flood in despite the pain they brought. You thought of the nights you’d spent tangled together, whispering secrets in the dark. You thought of the way he’d kiss your forehead before leaving for work, murmuring promises to come back to you.

And you thought of the way it all ended, the way he walked out of your life without looking back.

It wasn’t fair.

You wanted to move on, to let go of the love that still clung to you like a ghost. But every time you tried, you found yourself pulled back to him, to the man who had once been your everything.

You sighed, grabbing your bag and shutting off your computer. As you walked to your car, the night air was cool against your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache in your heart.

Sitting behind the wheel, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“I hope you’re happy,” you whispered to the empty car, your voice cracking. “But don’t be happier.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet confession to a love you could never fully let go of.

And as you drove away, the memories of him lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the love you once had—and the happiness you’d never find again.

[maybenotjaybe]

WHOOPS

☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆

PAIRING : jayce x reader

SUMMARY : after a long day, you sneak into jayce’s lab when it’s just him there and ended up distracting the both of you

REQUESTED : X

CW & TW : making out, slight touching, suggestive, getting caught, female reader, secret relationship

A / N : had this idea at like four am while changing my medical supplies lol - requests are open !

☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆

the lab was in full chaos.

theres jayce sat at the desk who is struggling with an equation that he can’t solve for a new invention, and then viktor is standing next to the chalkboard, literally solving the same problem.

“this is actually unsolvable.” he muttered, the frustration in his body growing by the second. he was gripping the pencil so tightly that it could snap in his hands any minute now.

viktor glanced over at jayce, noticing his disappointment and he let out his own sigh. “you have to add the velocities together.” he chimed in, trying to see what the piece of paper in front of jayce said from afar.

jayce turned his head to where viktor was standing, noticing the solved equation written on the chalkboard. that caused him to let out a small huff of air, shaking his head before bringing his gaze to the sheet of paper sprawled out on the desk. “my god.” he grumbled to himself, erasing part of the equation.

he could hear a sudden chuckle from viktor, shaking his own head as he turned his own body back at the chalkboard. “you should’ve known that by now, jayce.” he mocked, starting to write down more equations on the board as the sound of the chalk scraping the board filled the room.

jayce couldn't help but laugh at viktor's teasing, knowing he was smart enough to know something that simple. “i know, now shut it.” he barked back playfully, a small smile on his face while he wrote numbers down on the paper.

another small chuckle has escaped viktor's mouth, trying to hide his smile by rubbing his hand down his face. viktor often teased jayce whenever he had forgotten such a small part in an equation, knowing it gets on his nerves sometimes.

after a while, the sound of viktor letting out a small sigh fills the room, with him placing the piece of chalk on the nearby desk as he spoke. "right, well i will be leaving now." he called out to jayce, making his way to the exit with the help of his cane.

at the sound of viktor's voice, jayce turned around in the chair to see him leaving, a small teasing smile on his face. "i still can't believe you're actually going home for the night." he stated, watching him leave.

viktor shrugged his shoulders, glancing back at jayce with a small smile. “goodnight, jayce.” he called out to him, making it towards the door.

jayce’s smile has widened slightly, leaning his back against the chair he was on as he gazed at him exit the lab. “goodnight.” he said in return, a small breath escaping his lips.

now the lab was empty around jayce, the silence filling the room as he let out another small breath of air. he turned around in his chair and started to work on that equation again on the paper in front of him.

these moments alone made jayce calm down, the soft sounds of the lab roaming around his sight. it made him think about his life and how far he came with hextech. he was proud, which is what others would say.

as the minutes went by, jayce started to think about a certain someone, and that person was you. he missed you, a lot more than he could admit out loud. since the both of you were in a secret relationship, you two had to be careful in public areas.

"jayce?" you suddenly called out to him, your body at the entrance as you observed him at the desk of the lab room.

the sound of your voice made jayce flinch out of shock a bit, shifting his body back around in the chair to face you standing at the door. his eyes widened scarcely at the sight of you, not expecting you to just show up at the lab out of nowhere.

“what are you doing here?” he asked out of shock and as well as slight irritation. he rose from the chair and started to walk towards you. “you know you're not supposed to be here unless you want to get caught-”

“i know, now shut up.” you cut him off, meeting him halfway and bringing a hand to the back of his head, tugging him down and colliding your lips into his.

the sudden kiss initiated by you caught him by surprise, a tiny gasp escaping his lips before he fully melted into your touch, moving his mouth against your own passionately and without hesitation.

the kiss was anything but neat, the smacking of lips filling the room as well as the soft sounds the both of you were making. his hands were gripping your waist, probably gonna leave a remote bruise later but that was the least of his worries.

your free hand went to wrap around his torso, pulling him closer as one hand held onto the back of his jacket, and the other onto his hair. you felt like you were in heaven from jayce’s touch, a soft sound of pleasure from you entering his mouth.

after a while, you pulled away from jayce’s lips, resting your forehead against his own as you tried to catch your breath. you kept your eyes shut for a second, feeling your heart racing in your chest the moment you opened your eyes and gazed into jayce’s.

the two stared at each other for a moment, trying to process what just happened. “sorry,” you started off, your voice breathless and hushed. “i wanted to do that for a while.” you confessed, a small awkward smile tugging onto your lips.

jayce couldn't help but laugh at your words, the sound soft and filled with delight. “it's okay y/n.” he told you quietly, his thumb stroking your waist gently.

you listened to his reply, nodding at them as you gazed into his eyes lovingly. you can notice all of the details of his face, his tan skin, the shine in his light brown eyes, and the small gap in his teeth that you adored.

after a few moments, you heard Jayce's voice break the silence.. "did anyone see you?" he asked, staring into your eyes as he kept his forehead pressed against your own.

you instantly shook your head in response to him, feeling his breath against your lips as you spoke to him. “no.” you murmured, your gaze flickering between his eyes and lips.

you could feel jayce let out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes for a moment. “thank god.” he mumbled, leaning forward once more and crashing his lips against yours.

at the sudden feeling of his lips on yours, a small groan escaped your mouth and entered his, immediately moving your lips back against his in a desperate and messy kiss. the both of you knew you two needed this, from the stress of jayce’s work and the mess piltover was at the moment.

while the two kept kissing, jayce’s hand slid down from your waist to under your thighs, lifting you up in his grasp before he started to carry you toward the lab table. once he got there, he placed you down to sit at the edge, his lips still locked on yours in a passionate kiss.

the sudden lift of your body has taken you aback, but you adapted to it while jayce sat you down on the table. your legs wrapped around his body, pulling him closer until your bodies had no space at all.

it took a few minutes for the kiss to end, but jayce kept his lips moving towards your jaw and down your neck, creating a small path of hot and wet kisses. the feeling of his lips on your neck made your head hang back, loving the sensation of his actions.

“i forgot how good you were at this.” you mumbled to him, your breathing a bit ragged as you felt the pleasure of his lips on you. your hand stayed in his hair, raking your fingers through the black strands as you let him do his work.

jayce couldnt help but let out a small chuckle against your neck, the sound rumbling through his throughout. “you did, huh?” he breathed out, his tongue darting out to coat your skin.

your lips parted as a small gasp escaped your mouth, trying so hard not to make any sounds that would be noticeable from outside of the lab. “uh huh.” you let out, your hand on the back of jayce's head tugged it back so you can lean in and press your lips back to his.

he immediately obliged your actions, a small groan fleeing from his mouth while his lips moved against yours frantically and full of heat. one hand that was on your thigh started to trail up your his, gently stroking your breast before cupping your cheek, a shaky breath escaping his mouth and entering yours.

you could feel his hands travel up your body, a shiver going through your spine at his touch. as the kiss continued, your mind went to other places, like how you just wanted to take off his clothes and-

“jayce, is my notebook still in-” the sound of viktor's voice cut through the moment, causing the both of you to pull away quickly and glance over to see him staring at the two of you in shock.

your eyes widened at the sudden presence of viktor, your hands still holding onto jayce’s body and your legs wrapped around him. you could tell that the both of you were in a slight panic at the fact that you two were caught by him, froze in the same position as before

viktor stood there for a moment, trying to process what he just witnessed in front of him. “i-i’m gonna come back later.” he said in a hurry, quickly turning around to exit the lab, closing the door behind himself with a loud slam.

now it was just you and jayce left alone again, your gaze still pointed at the closed door as you realized what just occurred. “do you think he's gonna tell anyone?” you asked jayce, your voice breathless and slightly nerve.

at the sound of your voice, jayce turned his head back to face you, noticing the slight distress on your face from getting caught. he shook his head at your question, a small shaky breath leaving his lips. “no, he’s not the type to do that.” he answered, his hands sliding back down to your waist

you nodded at his words weakly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “oh my god.” you mumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder.

jayce couldnt help but laugh at your words, leaning into your touch while his hands started to caress your waist gently. “did you forget to lock the door?” he asked suddenly, a wide smile on his face as he stared down at you.

“i wasn't thinking about that!” you defended yourself, leaning back to stared up at him in return, a small laugh leaving your mouth.

another laugh escaped jayce, shaking his head while he stared down at you with adoration in his eyes. “of course you weren't.” he mumbled to you jokingly, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead before resting his cheek on the top of your head.

a small giggle left your lips, leaning into his touch while you closed your eyes, enjoying the peaceful moment with just the two of you. you both knew that you would have to talk to viktor later, but you didn't wanna worry about that right now, not at all.

☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆ ✧ ☆

[hypnobeauty]

A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 4)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 / part 3 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, slowburn, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! i lied, forgive me; i said we'd get into the relationship this part, but i love me a good slowburn. i try to keep the chapters around 1,000 words so it's not too boring, so we end up having more parts. this one is a little short but the next will be bigger. enjoy xx as always, comments are appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 4. a table by the window

“i don’t have much time,” you said, checking the watch on your wrist. “i need to be back at the office in…” you squinted at the numbers. “thirty-two minutes.”

hyun-ju smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the side of her coffee cup. “that’s more than enough.”

after she’d stopped you on your way out of the café, you’d followed her to the table by the window. the golden afternoon light softened the angles of her face, catching on her cheekbones and the delicate curve of her nose.

“your nose looks beautiful,” you said, meaning it. the words were out before you could second-guess them.

her hand lifted to her face instinctively, touching her nose with a soft laugh. “thank you.”

“i just wish you’d let me know you were okay,” you said, the words coming out quieter than you expected.

*

the silence from hyun-ju lingered longer than you expected, turning from a question into a quiet ache. at first, you checked your phone constantly, convinced that each buzz or notification would be her reply. but days passed, then weeks, and your hope started to wane.

for hyun-ju, the silence wasn’t intentional—it was survival. every time her phone buzzed with one of your messages, her heart leapt, and she’d reach for it instinctively. but then the doubts would creep in: what if i say the wrong thing? what if she’s just being nice? what if this doesn’t work out?

she’d type out replies, erase them, and set her phone aside, the weight of what she wasn’t saying pressing down on her chest. but the silence didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about you. in fact, you occupied her thoughts more than she cared to admit. she replayed your conversations in her mind—the way you’d made her laugh, the easy way you spoke, the warmth in your voice when you said she deserved kindness.

more than once, she caught herself imagining what she’d say if she had the courage to text back. she’d want to thank you for being so thoughtful, for seeing her as a person when so many others didn’t. she’d want to ask about your life, your friends, your favorite things. she’d want to tell you how much it meant to her that you didn’t flinch at her truth.

you told yourself you weren’t upset—after all, you barely knew her. but the truth was, her absence left a hollow space you couldn’t quite fill. there was something about her that stayed with you, something you couldn’t shake.

sometimes, you’d catch yourself wondering why it mattered so much. poor ha-neul had been filling up her shoes as best friend dutifully, recovering from her surgery with you yapping in her ear about the situation.

you’d known ha-neul since college, a whirlwind friendship that started over shared ramen packets during late-night study sessions and grew into something solid and dependable. now, working together in the same advertising agency— you as a graphic designer and her as an advertiser— , she was the closest person in your life, a friendship filled with unwavering support and never stopping banter.

so when ha-neul teased you about hyun-ju, it didn’t bother you as much as it might have coming from someone else.

“if you like her, you like her. it doesn’t have to be a big deal,” she said one day as you walked back from a coffee run. it was a simple statement, but it stayed with you.

you hadn’t thought much about dating women before. the truth was, you’d always admired women—sometimes in passing, sometimes more deeply—but you’d never let yourself linger on those feelings. boys were “easier”. in college, there was a girl in one of your classes, a sculptor with messy hair and calloused hands, who had a smile that made your stomach flip. you’d convinced yourself it was just admiration.

then there was your coworker at your first internship. she’d always leaned a little too close when she talked to you, her laugh warm and easy, and you’d caught yourself wondering what it would be like to hold her hand. but you hadn’t let yourself think about it for long.

it was easier to dismiss those feelings, to chalk them up to fleeting crushes or passing thoughts. you never questioned it too deeply, brushing those emotions aside before they could take root.

some of it, you realized, had to do with other people’s opinions. growing up, it was easier to follow the expectations placed on you—to keep things simple and avoid any sideways glances or pointed questions. the world had a funny way of making you second-guess yourself before you even had the chance to figure things out.

but hyun-ju wasn’t a fleeting moment. she wasn’t something you could brush aside.

at first, you told yourself it was just her kindness that drew you in, or maybe the way she seemed both strong and soft at once. but the more you thought about her, the more you realized it was something else. she’d made you laugh, made you curious, made you want to understand her in a way that felt new and exciting—and a little scary.

unknown to each other, both of you wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. both of you felt the weight of what wasn’t being said. and in the quiet spaces of your lives, both of you found yourselves thinking about each other: on your commute, you’d glance out the window, wondering if you’d ever run into her again; on her walks to the grocery store, hyun-ju would imagine what it might be like to bump into you, to have a reason to talk to you without the pressure of responding to your messages. you kept her number saved in your phone, the unanswered texts a reminder of something unfinished and she kept her phone close, always expecting the next buzz to be from you, even though she hadn’t replied to the last.

by the time a month had passed, the silence between you had stretched thin, hyun-ju holding onto the hope that it wasn’t too late and you resigned to the way the situation had ended. for hyun-ju, the café was just another stop in her routine, a quiet moment to sip her coffee and crunch numbers for her next surgery. she wasn’t expecting anything to change. for you, the café was a small indulgence in the middle of a long day, a chance to take a break and treat yourself to something sweet and forget the lingering questions in your mind. neither of you knew that the moment you’d both been waiting for was about to arrive.

*

hyun-ju smiled faintly as she cupped her drink, her fingers brushing the edge of the warm porcelain. “i… really am sorry. i didn’t mean to make you feel ignored. i wasn’t sure how to…” she paused, exhaling sharply. 

you tilted your head, studying her face. “it’s okay. i get it, kind of.” you softened your tone, glancing at her. “but it would’ve been nice just to know you were alright. i… worried about you.”

hyun-ju’s gaze darted to you, then back to her cup. “i wanted to reply,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “but every time i tried, i’d just… freeze. i overthink everything. so i’d delete it and try again. and again.”

“that sounds exhausting,” you said gently.

“it is.” she chuckled nervously. “my therapist keeps telling me to stop overthinking, but that’s like telling water not to be wet.”

you perked up at the mention of therapy. “therapist? how long have you been going?”

“about a year,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “i started right before i came out. it was… rough at first, but it’s been helpful. she’s great—tough but fair. keeps me from spiraling too much.”

“that’s awesome,” you said, smiling. “i’ve always thought therapy was one of those things everyone should try at least once, even if their life isn’t falling apart.”

“right?” hyun-ju said, her lips quirking upward. “sometimes i just go to vent about how my friends are driving me crazy.”

you leaned forward slightly, curiosity tugging at you. “you must have good ones if they’re worth venting about.”

“i do,” she said with a small smile. 

“you work out often?” you asked, glancing at her arms, where her muscles shifted under the sleeves of her grey shirt. you hoped you weren’t being too obvious, but it was hard not to notice.

“pretty regularly,” she said, shrugging. “it helps me clear my head.”

you nodded, still trying to appear casual. “yeah, i could… kind of tell.”

her brow furrowed, then she caught the direction of your gaze and laughed softly. “it’s not that serious.”

“sure, it’s not,” you said with a grin, taking a sip of your drink.

“what about you?” she asked. “what’s been going on in your life?”

“let’s see…” you began. “oh! ha-neul had her nose surgery a few weeks ago, so i’ve been playing nurse-slash-therapist for her ever since. she milked it for all it was worth.”

hyun-ju chuckled. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

“absolutely,” you said. “we’re lucky we could work remotely during her recovery. it was a lifesaver. we’d crash at each other’s places and work on projects together, though it was mostly me fetching her tea and reminding her not to poke her face.”

“she’s lucky to have you,” hyun-ju said, her voice warm.

“and i’m lucky she puts up with me,” you replied.

the conversation flowed easily now, each question and answer peeling back another layer. but when you glanced at your watch, reality hit.

“oh no,” you said, straightening in your chair. “i’ve got to get back to work. i didn’t even realize how much time had passed.”

hyun-ju’s expression flickered with disappointment, but she nodded. “i don’t want to keep you.”

you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you hesitated at the table, something unspoken hovering between you. “maybe we could meet again sometime?” you offered. “i feel like there’s still so much to talk about.”

hyun-ju’s eyes widened slightly. “you mean… like a date?”

you grinned. “only if you want it to be.”

for a moment, you thought she might backtrack, but to your surprise, she met your gaze and nodded. “okay. yeah. let’s do that.”

your heart did a little flip as you smiled. “great. i’ll see you soon, then.”

*

your walk back to the agency wasn’t as cold as it should be; you actually felt reinvigorated and with more energy to finish your day. but your return was later than intended, slipping into your desk chair with a cup of cold coffee in hand. ha-neul noticed immediately.

“you’re late,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “and that coffee looks sad.”

you shrugged, setting the cup down. “got distracted.”

she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “distracted by what?”

before you could answer, your phone buzzed on the desk. you glanced at the screen, and your lips curved into a smile as you read the text from hyun-ju.

"hi. there’s a traditioal korean restaurant near my place. would that work?"

ha-neul, always curious, leaned over before you could stop her. her eyes widened as she read the message, and then she turned to you with a grin so wide it almost hurt to look at.

“oh my god!” she squealed, grabbing your arm and jumping up and down like a kid. “is this really her?”

“ha-neul, calm down,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

“calm down? are you kidding? you have been yapping about her for a fucking month!” she said, laughing as she hugged you. “tell me everything!”

“later,” you said, still grinning as you typed your reply.

"sounds perfect. i can’t wait."

[lairofsentinel]

Lol, true.

You know? I can forgive that. They could have told me that the Crows were so entangled with the power forces of Antiva that even the Chantry had a small space dedicated to remember who was the true power in the shadows. Put me a Crow statue at the feet of an Andraste statue, and you are telling me something lore-wise about the power of this city [but they didn't care to do this work, since religion was completely erased from the game]. It's funny that some concepts in the game [like the Wall of Light in Miranthous] could have been great in-lore additions to the canon of these places, but they made them so bland, showing they had no idea what they were doing.

To me, it was more worrisome to have the main hall of the Treviso Chantry becoming a blood pool with a blood mage chilling there, taking a bath, and no fucking templars around, lol. Or at least their bodies? It takes a lot of time to set all that. Again, I would have believed it, if we saw templars bodies filling the pool. They cared about environmental storytelling? no, once again. They needed to tell all too explicitly because they assume players are stupid who can't process visual stories. Or maybe it was them, who had no idea about the lore, which was richer to implement than a generic DnD concept.

Where are the Antivan templars? Where is Andraste in Treviso? She should be a lot more present here than in Miranthous. Why Treviso has Dalish statues of Ghilanain/Andruil?

It's like the persons who designed the environments had no fucking idea of the minimum lore that the previous environmental designer had [Matthew M. Goldman and Ben McGrath]. In fact, I remember the big sheets Goldman did for all the artists to follow, putting all the DAI assets to have a good vibe and guide of what statues belonged to what culture, the colours, etc. He even made a video showing these as a presentation power point explaining all the details and thoughts put in these designs. They help me so much to understand places in DAI that had no markers for you to guess. But you had the patterns! They could have used these assets.

Also, imagine how little care they had that in Miranthous you also have statues of Havard. The AVVAR disciple of Andraste [remember that Tevinter always despised the "savages" all over Thedas] Now are you telling me they put the statue of one of them in their main city? And not only that... These statue were a replica of one commissioned by a noble orlesian who wanted to see her lover everywhere. So she made these Havard's statues resembling her lover. XD And that's what you see in backyard of the Chantry of Tevinter.

Every chantry symbol in Miranthous is wrong. Every detail, every big statue, every enviroment has been designed so carelessly in this game. They don't even know that the Imperial Chantry has a particular symbol that separates them from the Orlesian Chantry of the rest of Thedas...

[burningembers91]

The Taste of You - Park Min-Su x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

The Secretary Lunch Date Awards Night Overtime

Synopsis: Desperate for more, Park Min-Su takes you to dinner. But you're the only thing he wants for dessert.

A/N: There's probably typos galore because I wrote this at lightning speed

Park Min-Su hadn’t slept all night. You’d been going round and round his mind like a broken record, the feel of your lips on his, the way they stained his skin with your lipstick drove him insane. He didn’t want to wipe away the cherry red stain at the base of his cock, the only evidence that his time with you in his office hadn’t been a complete dream. You made him feel things he’d never felt before, had acted out a fantasy he’d had so many times. And all he’d had to do was ask. You’d been so clear with him; you couldn’t help him if he didn’t tell you what he needed. What he needed was you. Last night had only been the tip of the iceberg, and he was so eager to learn more. He wanted you to show him everything you knew, to teach him how to make you feel as good he had.

He was nervous about going into the office that morning, of seeing you again. He had so many things he wanted to say to you, but the closer he got to his office door, the more his nerves chewed through him. By the time his hand was on the doorknob, he’d convinced himself he’d dreamt the whole thing.

But then he saw you, sitting at your desk, with the same cherry red lipstick on. You smiled sweetly as he entered, handing him his agenda for the day. Min-Su could feel himself stiffen again, could see your eyes trail down his body as you too noticed his arousal. “You have the presentation today at 3pm,” you said, choosing not to comment on his very visible erection. You’d made the first move, but now Min-Su needed to take charge. “Your dad would also like to meet with you at 9am, so I’ve scheduled in 30 minutes with him to go over the work we’ve done. The marketing department want a quick debrief at 1:30 to great ready for the presentation, and finance were chasing your weekly expense report. I tracked down all your receipts, and I’ve sent them off for you.”

You were so confident, so sure of yourself and Min-Su hadn’t listened to a word you’d said. He’d been too busy staring at your lips, wanting nothing more than to have you trail them down his body again. “Min-Su?” you asked, “did you hear what I said?” “No,” he admitted, “I was distracted.” You sighed, but couldn’t help but smile. “Anything you need?” Your words from last night echoed in his brain; he needed to tell you what he wanted. “I want to kiss you,” he breathed, his briefcase clenched in his hands as he stared at your perfect lips. “Then kiss me,” you whispered. His lips met yours softly, his tongue running along your lower lip, just as you’d shown him the night before. His hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, the kiss deepening as his briefcase clattered to the floor. You held each other in the silence of his office, clinging to one another as you lost yourselves in the sensation.

“Your dad will be here soon,” you smiled, finally pulling away, despite every fibre of your being screaming at you to keep going. Min-Su’s lips were stained with the colour you wore, and you carefully wiped the lipstick away, erasing any evidence that he had been kissing his secretary. He wanted to tell you to leave the marks, to let him show them off like a badge of honour. But the feeling of your thumb brushing over his lips felt almost as good as kissing you, and he moaned into your touch.

He couldn’t concentrate all day, especially when you were sat less then 10 feet away from him. He somehow managed to get through the presentation without any hiccups, his eyes trained on you as you diligently took notes throughout. He wanted to ask you out tonight, to take you for dinner at his favourite restaurant. You’d told him to be more assertive, so when you were back in his office, he approached you. “Will you come for dinner with me tonight?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly as he asked you. he didn’t want to be nervous, but you made him weak at the knees. “I’d like that. What time would you like me?” You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest as he asked you, the butterflies that jostled in your stomach. “Is 7 ok?” Min-Su could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for your response. He wondered if he’d always be this nervous around you, or whether it would get better with time. “7 is perfect,” you smiled, “I’ll text you my address.”

Min-Su was nothing, if not punctual. He arrived at 7pm on the dot to find you dressed in a burgundy off-the-shoulder mini dress. He’d bought you a dozen roses and a box of chocolates, clutching them to his chest as he waited for you to open the door. “They’re beautiful,” you smiled, setting the flowers up in a vase. No one had ever bought you flowers before, and the gesture was sweet. You didn’t stop talking throughout dinner, and Min-Su was slowly but surely coming out of his shell. He didn’t want the evening to end, but then again, he could spend an eternity with you, and it would never be enough.

“Can I come back to yours?” he asked, as the two of you left the restaurant. “What for?” you asked innocently, but your sly smile showed him you were joking. “I want to…” Min-Su was struggling again, struggling to voice just how badly he wanted you. “I want make you feel good.” His arms gingerly snaked around your waist, pulling you in for a brief kiss. “I want you to feel how I felt last night.”

Your hand cupped his cheek, your gaze meeting his. He was so sweet, so eager and those butterflies in your stomach started up again. “Ok, Min-Su,” you smiled, “take me home.” He opened the car door you, shutting it gently when you were seated. No one had ever done that for you either. You hadn’t realised just how kind he was to you. He always opened doors for you, pulled your chair out for you when you out for meals, or even just a coffee. He was such a gentleman, more so than anyone else you’d ever met.

As soon as you arrived home, his lips were on yours. You pulled his jacket off his shoulders, throwing it unceremoniously onto the floor as his hands explored your hips and waist. “What do you want?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper as his lips traced the outline of your jaw. His nerves were decreasing by the second, overridden by his desire to please you. “I want to know what you taste like,” he told you, his fingers fumbling for the zip on the back of your dress. He couldn’t believe how bold he was being, but that was the kind of effect you had on him; you made him feel on top of the world.

You led him to your sofa, shedding your clothes for him as you went, until only your underwear remained. Your body was perfection, your curves igniting the fire in his belly as he took in every inch of you. You were so beautiful, the curve of your breasts so soft. His fingers caressed your body, starting at your shoulders and working his way down. You moaned for him, his touch on your skin setting every atom of your body alight. “Where do you want me?” you asked, desperate for him to take control, to tell you what he wanted.

Wordlessly, he guided you to your sofa, sitting you gently down on the cushions as he knelt before you. He looked up at you, his eyes wide as you took you in. You really were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. You brought his hands to the soft lace of your underwear, arching your hips as he pulled them down over your thighs. You were so wet, so perfect and Min-Su couldn’t help but moan at the sight of you. he didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where to start with you. “Touch me,” you whispered, propping your feet up on the seat to give him full access. Gingerly, his fingers reached out, caressing your slick folds as you let out the softest moan. You felt incredible, and he couldn’t believe you were this wet for him. He groaned as his fingers found your soft, tight core, pushing them inside you. “Fuck,” you whispered, watching the expression on his face as he explored you. He could feel his own arousal pushing against his jeans, and he palmed at his crotch as he lowered his tongue to your clit.

You tasted heavenly, your walls clenching around his fingers as he ran his tongue over your sensitive nub. He was so gentle with you, so careful as he figured out what you liked. Your moans were the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, his cock painfully stiff as he pressed the softest kiss to your clit. He was driving you crazy, his touch so timid and yet so perfect. His fingers were hitting a spot deep inside you, bringing you closer to the edge. “Feels so good,” you whimpered, “keep going, Min-Su.” Hearing you say his name, hearing you tell him how good he was making you feel was his undoing. He felt himself let go, spilling himself inside of his jeans. His tongue worked against you in rhythm with his fingers, feeling your soft, tight walls contract as you neared the brink. “So close,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pushed his face against your soaking core. You came undone with a cry, a noise that send the most blissful shivers down his spine.

You sank down on to the floor next to him, your legs quivering as your lips met. His tongue tasted like you, and you were desperate for more. it was funny how last night he was completely at your mercy, yet tonight you were completely at his. You wanted to replay the favour, to show him how it felt to be inside you. Your hand dipped into his jeans, gripping his cock. “Oh!” Your fingers brushed against the fabric of his underwear, soaked with the arousal he’d hadn’t been unable to contain. “I couldn’t help it,” he whined, “you tasted so good.” “It’s ok,” you smiled, feeling him harden against your touch. You wanted him, all of him. You didn’t want to play games anymore.

As you went to unzip his jeans, Min-Su’s phone buzzed. You both audibly groaned, so wrapped up in the moment. He was going to ignore it, but then his phoned buzzed again. And again. Sighing, he pulled it from his pocket. “It’s my dad,” he sighed. “He wants to see me back at the office.” “Oh, ok.” You’d tried to mask your disappointment, to hide the fact that you didn’t want him to leave. “I wish I could stay,” he breathed, his lips brushing against yours. If it had been anyone else, he’d have ignored it. But his father was not a man you could ignore. “I understand,” you smiled. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

He left you on the floor of your living room, your heart still racing as you came down from your high. You were so confident on the outside, a force of nature who always seemed so self-assured. But on the inside, you were insecure, so desperate to be loved. No one had ever cared for you the way Min-Su had. No one had ever been so sweet, or kind to you. Nobody had ever treated your body like it was a temple, but Min-Su had sunk to his knees for you, worshipped you. This whole thing had started because you’d been desperate to feel something, and you knew Min-Su liked you. But now, as you listened to his car pull away from the street, you wondered if it was something more.

You wondered if perhaps you were doing what no one ever seemed capable of doing for you. Maybe you were falling a little harder for your timid boss that you cared to admit.

[ineffableaddiction]

Mirroring

I know, mirroring is not anything new in Good Omens. I highly appreciate the nuance it takes to build on the same theme through two (or more) seemingly (and sometimes actually) different stories.

There is one that has been stuck in my brain for awhile though.

Let me share….

The Final 15

This has been analyzed from millions of angles, so I’ll be brief. Crowley cleans the bookshop and plans to take Aziraphale to the Ritz. He attempts confession of some sort, only to be interrupted by the angel bringing him good tidings of great joy while looking like The Them when Adam made them smile. The two awkwardly talk, each thinking they’re making grand gestures (and they really are, in their own ways). Things go… not as either of them would have liked. And then… the kiss and aftermath that broke a billion hearts.

This scene has always seemed very Crowley to me. Bold. Grand gestures. Blatantly emotional. (My evil demon drama queen). This scene has an in-your-face impact. There is a reason that almost everyone that saw this had a visceral reaction to it.

NOT the Final 15

But if we pull back, we see a parallel story. A grand gesture. A declaration of love. A missed opportunity to work together.

And…

One of them choosing to go to Heaven.

Think about it. Aziraphale plans a ball in the bookshop, one he’s quite excited about. But, in true Aziraphale fashion, he hides his emotions away and lets the Nina and Maggie coupling attempt to explain away his excitement.

I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me.

Our favorite angel has plans. Is he going to declare his love? Possibly, but maybe not. Will Crowley be invited to live at the bookshop? This seems likely, given the previous “our car” and “our bookshop” banter. Whatever it is, it’s a step forward.

I would like to spend…

Just look at Aziraphale’s excitement as he asks Crowley to dance.

But…

Hell decides to bust up the party. Not Crowley’s fault, but disappointing.

This is where some things seem to get overlooked.

A group of the two of us

At one point, before Crowley escorts the humans out, Aziraphale asks Crowley to hear his idea. He didn’t say plan - he wanted Crowley’s input. After all, it worked so well when they put their heads together when they were trying to protect Jim.

You can’t leave this bookshop

But Crowley doesn’t listen.

He moves the humans to safety, basically just walking them across the road.

And he doesn’t come back. Instead, he goes to Heaven. Because he thinks it is the way to help everyone.

During the time Crowley was in Heaven, Aziraphale didn’t know where he was. There were demons outside the bookshop. The human-shaped being he loves might be discorporated. Maybe even erased. And he had two humans and an amnesiac archangel to help him protect his and Crowley’s home.

That makes this scene tug violently at my heart:

So, to recap….

1. Heart eyes plans something special

2. This is ruined by occult (or ethereal) beings

3. Heart eyes tries to get their object of affection to stay at the bookshop and work together

4. Object of affection leaves the bookshop anyway

5. Object of affection goes to Heaven because they think it will solve/protect something

Then….

6. Object of affection comes back. They always come back.

We have Aziraphale’s quiet, understated version. We have Crowley’s flash bastard version.

Season 3 will hopefully bring us their version. For them, together is beautifully better.

[hyperbolicreverie]

an au of It's on the tip of his tongue where sanji recognizes law's accent 

Interesting! This diverges from the point in the fic where Robin originally realizes what Law's saying.

As Law stomps off, Sanji finds himself rooted to the deck where he's standing, memory tripping back through time to a point in his life he does his best not to linger on.

He's heard those same words before, said not in anger but in desperation, in the voice of a parent so driven to the edge that they'd sought help for their family's plight at the hands of the North Blue's old enemy. Because while Germa was anathema to any good citizen of the sea, their scientific prowess was undeniable, and medicine and society both had failed them so far. A deal with the devil was all they had left.

Sanji remembers Judge's interest in the Amber Lead, even before those wayward souls had landed on the Germa flotilla. He'd spoken at length about its potential as a toxin, as a resource to be exploited just like everything else that came under his thumb, and he'd complained at just how hard it was to get his hands on the stuff, now that the World Government had put on embargo on the material.

That family had been his chance.

He'd pulled the stuff out of those people just as he'd promised, but Sanji was pretty sure those afflicted hadn't survived the process. Judge never cared about relieving suffering with his methods, just what he could get from the results. At the very least, Sanji had never seen them again after they'd disappeared into the laboratories.

Eventually, Judge had discarded the idea of working with Amber Lead. It had been too unreliable a resource, and he'd disparaged it as being useless for his purposes. Just a shiny trinket that lesser peoples had used to adorn themselves, to their eventual ruin, and not worthy of Germa attention. He had turned to other endeavors, and the North Blue had driven the rest of the people of Flevance to extinction.

Well, all but one it seemed.

Law's fear was not an unfounded one; Sanji knew with bitter familiarity what fear looked like when it was based on lived experience. The fact that he'd survived was a miracle in itself, but Sanji had no doubt that it had been the rockiest of roads.

The question of how he'd survived wasn't a question at all: if Law could pull body swaps with something as nebulous as a personality, then removing poison from his body would be child's play, wouldn't it?

How old was the other captain, anyway? Older than him, he's pretty sure, but underneath the tired, grumpy old man demeanor, Law has one of those faces that's hard to accurately date. But...Sanji had been five when news of Flevance reached Germa. Unless Law is quite a bit older than he thinks, that brings to mind a whole host of horrors he does not have the bandwidth to entertain right now.

He fixed up the kids at Punk Hazard. He was as prickly as a sea urchin about it, and scared Chopper half to death, but he did.

"Sanji?" Robin's voice cuts through the frenetic pace his brain is going at.

He looks up, and sees the expression on her face. She knows, but of course she must know. If he had finally managed to put the clues together with just an old memory, then their language specialist knowing was no surprise at all. Still, it hurts to see the same fear and hurt he'd seen on Law reflected on her face, when they'd done so much to try to erase it.

Sometimes, things just struck far too close to home.

"I think," he says slowly. "That I am going to go make some onigiri."

Because if he needs to do something with his hands to process the enormity of what he's just learned, then the topic of those thoughts might as well benefit from it.

[tumblingxelian]

There's this ridiculous narrative that going on in both RWBY subreddit: fans and critics alike are saying that Yang's memory is flawed (or even that she was lying) when she said that she basically had to raise Ruby herself when Tai shut down after Summer died. Their main argument is "Yang was 5! She couldn't even take care of herself, much less a toddler!"

Several works of fiction have five-year-olds whose parents are neglectful, emotionally defeated, or even abusive taking care of themselves just fine, like Matilda (Matilda Wormwood), Persona 4 (Nanako Dojima), and Kotaro Lives Alone (Kotaro Satou). Why are they willing to give them a pass for doing that, while saying that it's impossible in RWBY?

Yang's conversation with Tai before her sparring match in V4 doesn't work if this was the case.

I'm actually insulted by this argument because the mother of my oldest cousin was a complete and utter bitch who divorced my uncle, and cheated him out of as many supervised visits as she could by working overtime whenever she could. Combined with the fact that she worked an 8 to 8 job, my cousin had to teach herself how to cook, do laundry, change her bedsheets, and get herself ready for school since neither my uncle nor her mother were heavily involved in her life, kind of like Matilda, Nanako, and Kotaro. Gee, it's almost like fiction is at least somewhat based on reality. What a concept!

Sorry if I got a little rambly, but my cousin's experience and my own experience as an older brother cause this argument to REALLY make me angry.

I've had endless debates across Reddit, YouTube, Tumblr and forums alike with people who hold that exact stance and it is never not utterly asinine.

Even if we ignore the factual reality that lots of children, even very young one's often end up parentified and left grappling with adult responsibilities as a small child.

Which I need to stress we should not ignore and the fact these people do shows just how willfully ignorant they are being.

The fact of the matter is it makes no narrative, character or thematic sense for her to be wrong about this!

Like, really, what is the narrative end goal in these people's brains, to have one of the main characters most overtly emphasized sources of trauma. Not only brought up by herself but by the sister she had to raise. Be wrong?

It makes every scene discussing it, every aspect of her character it informs, every bit if dialogue that touched on it utterly meaningless. CRWBY don't have that kind of time to waste on a red herring that serves literally Zero purpose!

But of course these people don't give two fried fucks about things like basic common sense or competent writing.

They want Yang to be delusional or lying because in their mind the fact she 'dared' be traumatized, 'dared' to be something other than a ditsy party girl and 'dared' be even indirectly critical of a man, of her father, is an insult to them.

Thus they want to ignore what's on screen, what the writers say, what the characters say, what reality says about situations exactly like this to erase her trauma and depth, All our a blend of sexist offence and misogynistic defensiveness of a minor male character.

It sucks but then, since wen hasn't RWDE been awful?

On your example:

Extremely well said, very good examples, I would also add Gohan from Dragon Ball surviving in the wilderness for a full year at the age of 3/4/5 depending on translations.

There's so many conversations tat make no coherent sense if Yang was wrong, but as said, these people don't care about good writing.

My sympathies and respect to your cousin and exactly, reality is often stranger than fiction and frankly this fictional scenario isn't even that strange sadly :/

I am right there with you for my own reasons, it sucks!

Literally the only area in which one can reasonably argue that Yang might be somewhat misinformed I thin is in relation to what exactly was going on in Ruby's head at the time.

IE, believing she didn't understand what was going on yet. That doesn't actually undercut any of her own experiences, but could be the case as it seems Ruby's memories of those early days are perhaps clearer tan Yang realizes.

Of course this changes nothing about Yang being parentified from an incredibly young age, because Ruby herself outright said Yang raised her.

[janusfranc15]

Yeah TES is famed for using the Unreliable Narrator- though this gets a bit tricky when Magic is taken into account- it means the more Lurid tales may not necessarily be incorrect.

..Whilst this is shifting blame, I wonder if the Dragons had any part to play in the Falmer Genocide- either egging it on or commanding it- with Ysgramor’s Role being emphasized over the centuries to both prop up anti-Elven propaganda and Nord Pride, and to erase the inconvenient truth that the heroes of the Ancient and Modern Nords worked and helped further the domains of their Draconic overlords.

Something to add is that Ysgramor sounds like Ys Gram Or - Dovahzuul.

(Michael Kirkbride- that most unhinged of writers who uses metaphors perhaps too liberally calls Ysgramor a Literal Dragon. It would be a rather impressive feat of historical erasure if so, but ‘Dragon Priest’ may be a more. Logical. Reading. Alternatively ‘Dragon’ could also be considered a moniker of EXTREME respect- that would likely have fallen out of favor post-Miraak)

- From Kurt Kuhlmann’s blog.

Ysgramor and the G-Word

Originally posted on /r/teslore. 

The charge of genocide gets thrown around a lot in TES lore discussions. It’s claimed that Ysgramor and co. genocided the snow Elves, but then it’s argued back that the Snow Elves genocided the folks at Saarthal. And then the Dwemer genocided the Snow Elves, and while we’re at it, did the Direnni genocide the Nords, and what about the Ayleids genociding the men-of-Ge, and the Alessians genociding the Ayleids and  … ok you got the idea.

It’s pretty pointless, to be honest, particularly with the lack of actual contemporary sources on most of these conflicts. Add that to an inconsistent definition of genocide held by the debaters, and I just start groaning every time I see such a thread.

HOWEVER, there is a false equivalence made in equalling the cultural memory of Ysgramor and the Companions to any of these other events, and that’s what I’m posting about today.

The perspective I think is missing from a lot of these threads is this: The destruction of the snow-elves in Nord lore was an intentional genocide carried to completion.

This isn’t a debate in which each side tells their own story that gets them off the hook. The charge of genocide against Ysgramor and the Companions generally isn’t made by elves or other critics. In fact, the one ancient Snow Elf we talk to about the subject, Gelebor, frames it as a series of territory wars.

The source for Ysgramor’s genocide is the most prized Nord legends itself. That is what makes it different.

Keep reading

[misettemisette]

Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clásico

Starting over In Madrid

Summary: After moving to Madrid as Real Madrid's new photographer, Nicky can’t seem to take her eyes off the pretty face Misa Rodríguez. But how will she handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her contract strictly forbids dating players? WC: 4K words TW: suggestive PS: French writer Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

"You don’t come after training because we’re still grounded ?" 

Misa’s text lifted my heart. With the Clásico and games abroad coming, I had a huge amount of work keeping me out of the stadium. I had shut myself in my office for three days now, importing, retouching photos, and thinking about the next games’s visuals… Since resisting the goalkeeper was becoming more and more difficult, I had to admit I was relieved to be able to avoid her.

I thought for a moment about what to answer. As soon as she had stood up from that bench on the evening at the park, Misa had been her funny self again. She had joked happily. We had said goodbye at the entrance of the parking lot. Like friends do. If she had been disappointed, she had hidden it well. 

And now she was texting me about not coming to our photo meeting in a casual yet flirty way again…

"Feels like I’m the grounded one… work is keeping me trapped in my office!" I texted back.

"👉🤓" 

"🫠👋"

She started typing and stopped. Her text bubble didn’t reappear. I sighed. I hated having to be distant with her. I sighed again and buried myself back into work. 

Fifteen minutes later, loud, erratic knocks boomed against the door of my office. 

"What…?" 

Without waiting, Misa, Hayley, and Sofie burst into the room. "Here she is ! You believed to could get rid of us that easy Nicky?" Hayley asked as the three girls came around my desk. Misa had brought a ball and severals biscuits with her. 

"What are you doing here?!" I said, already annoyed. I had a feeling they weren’t here to help me… 

"We’re checking if you’re still Nicky and not a robot." Misa dropped the biscuits on my desk and started to play with her ball, bouncing it between her foot and thigh. Sofie was leaning toward my computer screen. "Do you have new photos of me?". Hayley was examining my cameras from every angle. "I’ve never seen this one, would you recommend it Nicky?" The dull sound of the ball bouncing rhythmically constantly filled the room. I couldn’t believe how quickly they had created such a mess.   

"Guys, a girl needs to focus right now!" I said, eyes closed, with a hand on my forehead. 

"Oh, you can keep working, don’t mind us." Hayley had taken a camera and was back to taking pictures. Sofie joined Misa and they went passing each other the ball. There was no way I was going to be able to concentrate in this chaos. 

Just edit ten more photos tonight, I told myself. I grabbed back my pencil and graphic tablet, opened a photo of Olga striking, and started erasing an unwanted grass twigs on one of her socks. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Misa’s face approaching the screen while chewing a mouthful of biscuits. "What’s this? Are you drawing?" She asked, pointing at my tablet. The sound of the ball still echoed as Sofie had taken over. A few crumbs fell from the goalkeeper’s mouth.

"Misa! The keyboard !" I blew hard on it to make them go away. 

"Perdòn!" She stepped back and tried to swallow her snack. She gestured for me to explain again. That girl can be such a pain! 

"No, I can’t draw, I’m just correcting details. A pen is more precise than a mouse", I said to her.

"Oh, vale! Can I try it?" I glared at her. "I mean not now! When you have the time. And… I can teach you football in exchange". She added with an innocent smile. 

That girl will drive me mad! 

"Misa! Leave Nicky alone and come to my IG Live, the fans wants to see you!" Sofie called from the farthest corner. 

"Coming! Nicky, take a biscuit, son muy buenos!"

They kept going like this until they were forced to leave with me. I had painfully managed to do half the work I wanted to finish. Tomorrow is another day…

***

Alas, the next day was just the same. They came after their practice, making even more noise than before, until my boss finally showed up to send them away. Despite the chaos, it was a miracle I managed to finish everything at a relatively early hour on the eve of the Clásico. That meant I could be on time to catch Misa and Hayley after the motivational speech following that day’s training session.

The speech wasn’t over when I arrived near the meeting room and peered discreetly inside. The players didn’t seem very captivated. Olga’s legs fidgeted with impatience, and Linda appeared to be slowly zoning out. Fortunately, it ended shortly, and I exited the building to wait for my friends.

They arrived among the first. I could sense their nervousness behind the frank smiles they both gave me as a greeting.

"Hey Nicky, great speech, eh..?" Hayley hugged me. She was so tense. "Thanks for waiting, but I need to go home. I’m off, girls, see you tomorrow!" Misa patted her shoulder as she left, and Hayley roughly brushed her hair in return.

I turned to face the goalkeeper. "How are you coping?" I asked gently. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

"Estoy bien…," she answered, peering down, her foot kicking at the floor aimlessly. She clearly wasn’t.

"Do you want to walk?" I asked without any ulterior motives. I just wanted to help my friend feel a bit better. She nodded.

We wandered around the sports campus and tried to talk about anything but the Clásico. At first, Misa kept jumping in place every now and then to shake off her stress. She relaxed once we started teasing each other.

"Misa, you can’t be near a ball without showing off! That’s insane!"

She smirked. "I’m an athlete, Nicky! Football is my life—of course I play with my ball all the time." She side-glanced at me, her mischievous tone and satisfied smile returning. "I did 65 rebounds yesterday."

I giggled. "Is that a lot?"

Misa’s disappointed and irritated expression had me laughing out loud.

She slapped me on the arm. "Jajaja, muy divertido! I don’t care what a girl who works at Real Madrid but knows nothing about football thinks!"

It was my turn to feign annoyance. "I see Trainer Misa is long gone before she even started…"

She opened her mouth but had no response. I’d made her sulk again. Grumpy Misa was one of my favorites, but her well-being mattered more than my amusement tonight. I gave her an exaggerated, admiring look, stopping in front of her like a crazed fan.

"Oh my God, are you Misa Rodríguez? The best goalkeeper in the world?"

"Stop it, Nicky. It’s not even convincing!" she complained, though a small smile stretched across her lips.

I continued my bad acting, bowing to her, taking her hand, and speaking in a distinguished tone. "Lady Misa, would you do me the honor of teaching me football?"

I hoped the idea of training would lift her spirits.

She laughed frankly and bit her lip, still looking a bit vexed. "Have you even ever played football?"

We resumed our walk as I pretended to search my memory. "It happened... twice, maybe. The first was at school, and the second was in the alley in front of my parents’ house."

She snorted. "No puede ser…" She shook her head, but then her voice turned curious. "For real, why did you want to work for a football club?" This time, her mocking tone was gone, making me really wonder how much I wanted to share.

"Oh… well, it wasn’t really intentional." I paused, searching for words. "I needed a change in my life. Nothing was… going well. I had a rough breakup and was really unhappy in my previous job…"

"I’m sorry to hear that," she said with a concerned look.

I half-laughed, half-sighed. "It’s okay now. I’m glad to be here. I really like Madrid."

"Bueno… and do you like your new job too?"

"Yes, I’m quite fond of it… and of my new exasperating friends," I teased her as we headed to the parking lot.

"I’m happy you’re good with us," she said, ignoring the teasing once again.

We arrived in the middle of the parking lot, and I wasn’t sure we were going in the same direction, so I gestured to the right. "I’m parked this way."

"I’m parked over here, but I’ll go with you to your car. I could use a bit more walking," she replied, sounding far less stressed now.

We reached my car and faced each other to say goodbye.

"Thanks, Nicky," Misa said softly. Her features were more relaxed. The walk had soothed her a little.

"You’re looking better. Are you sure you’re ready to go home?" I asked one last time.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, she simply smiled and looked away.

"Misa?" I frowned, unsure of how to help her anymore.

Her head turned back to me. She bit her lip, her eyes locking onto mine. Then she slowly stepped forward.

My brows lifted, and I froze in surprise as she took my hands in hers. I knew this was it—there was no escaping this time, and I didn’t give a damn.

I half-closed my eyes, my head slightly bowed as she leaned closer. My gaze stayed on her quivering lips as she neared mine. At last, she pressed her mouth to mine. I let out a short breath, surprised by the tenderness of her kiss. Her lips were soft, her movements slow.

I kissed her back, letting relief wash over me, completely surrendering myself as her taste and scent filled my senses. Our noses brushed against each other, and the grip of our hands tightened as we continued kissing softly, slowly.

Finally, she withdrew her lips from mine, a soft smile lingering on them, leaving me missing their touch instantly. My eyes couldn’t leave hers.

"I’m ready now," she whispered.

I exhaled and gave her a shy smile as she released my hands.

"Good night, Nicky."

She stepped back and turned away. I stayed frozen on the spot, my heart drumming in my chest, my gaze following her until she disappeared behind the birch trees growing between the parking spaces.

***

Aitana Bonmatí ran swiftly, skillfully dribbling past everyone who approached her. She prepared her strike and shot between Ivana and Olga toward the penalty area. The ball landed perfectly at Salma's feet, and she immediately sent a powerful kick toward the upper left corner of the goal. Misa leaped with all her strength, and the tips of her gloves deflected the ball, denying Barcelona another chance to score.

The match had been grueling and demanding from the very beginning. Barça had been pressing Real Madrid relentlessly, constantly cornering them near their penalty area. Misa had already made five incredible saves, but when Mariona Caldentey outpaced all the defenders for the third time and delivered a well-aimed pass to Caroline Graham Hansen, Misa had gone the wrong direction. The ball rolled effortlessly into the net. Misa swore, got up quickly, and sent a long clearance that Hayley skillfully recovered.

Hayley, a fast runner, sprinted forward and passed the ball to Athenea, who dribbled past Irene Paredes. Using a split second of disorganization, she found Linda. Linda’s header miraculously flew past the expert gloves of Cata Coll and crashed into the net, filling the stadium with an explosion of joy.

Returning from halftime, Barça pressed harder and harder but couldn’t score another goal. Thanks to a clever discussion in the locker room during the break, Real Madrid was holding their ground better than ever, with Misa’s numerous saves halting Barça’s brilliant sequences of passes.

Then the unbelievable happened in the 78th minute. Naomie managed to escape Alexia Putellas’ marker and intercepted a ball from Oihane’s throw-in. Her quick, arched pass found Olga on the left side. From a rather distant position, Olga unleashed a shot worthy of the World Cup. The ball soared straight into the upper-right corner, leaving Cata Coll helpless. The stadium erupted, Madrid players hugging in celebration of their first-ever lead over Barcelona.

In extra time, Misa’s body crashed onto the grass again after saving another strike from Salma. The Madrid players were visibly exhausted, their movements slowing, their feet barely making contact with the ball anymore.

As they all took their positions for the corner kick, Misa gave directions to her teammates, preparing herself for the next action. Salma struck, crossing the ball from the goal line. It descended perfectly onto Alexia’s feet, who sent it crashing into the net. Barcelona had equalized in the 95th minute, victory slipping away from the Madrid girls’ grasp. The match was headed into extra time, and I could see Misa’s frustration as she pounded the grass with her fists before rising to her feet. As well-trained as they were, the team looked drained, and with Barça clearly dominating, extra time was going to be a living nightmare.

Misa passed by me as she exited the tunnel, heading toward her goal after the short break. I snapped a photo of her face—a mix of deep concentration and extreme fatigue. My heart sank. I had been covering the match with other photographers from the start, struggling to focus on my job instead of the intense pressure mounting on Misa.

The game resumed. The Madrid team formed two compact lines in front of the goal. They had clear instructions: defend at all costs and allow no goals. This strategy, along with Ivana’s quick footwork, prevented another Barça attempt from finding the net. The only two shots Madrid managed were met by Cata’s gloves, her clearances swiftly returning the ball to Madrid’s half. But they held their ground, over and over, through the first half of extra time.

In the second half, fouls and cramps multiplied on both sides, disrupting the game and giving players unnecessary minor injuries. Misa’s attempt to grab a shot by Mariona sent her rolling to the ground, her knee colliding painfully with the goalpost. The ball luckily hit the crossbar and was cleared by Kathellen, but Misa stayed down, clutching her knee through the thick padding of her gloves.

I shuddered. No, please! Let it not be a serious injury! I silently prayed as the medical staff rushed to her. A cluster of teammates surrounded her, blocking my view of what was happening.

I waited, barely breathing, unable to look at the last picture I had taken of her curled up on the grass, her features distorted in pain. What felt like an eternity passed before the medics left, the small crowd dispersing to reveal Misa standing again. Though she was breathing heavily and limping slightly, she was back on her feet.

Relief washed over me.

Misa returned to her position in front of the goal but handed the ball to Ivana for a long clearance. It was clear she didn’t have the strength to keep up with the pace. The ball was back in her penalty area within moments, but Madrid had finally cracked the code to establish a solid defense.

When the final whistle blew, it was to end the match at last.

The penalty shootout would decide the winner of the Copa de la Reina. More than ever, the outcome rested squarely on Misa’s shoulders.

The goalkeeper huddled with her teammates and coach near the bench, their expressions a mix of determination and exhaustion. From where I stood, I caught Misa’s eye—or thought I did—and gave her a supportive smile, raising my fist in encouragement. But her focus was unshakable, her world narrowed entirely to the game.

Madrid opened the shootout with Olga. She stepped up confidently, struck the ball cleanly, and scored. Cheers erupted from the stands, Madrid fans roaring their approval.

Misa took her place on the line for her first challenge. Caroline Graham Hansen approached, poised and calm. She struck, and the ball soared past Misa into the net.

Next, Claudia fired a hard shot aimed at the right corner, but Cata had read her intentions perfectly. With a swift dive, she blocked it with precision. Barça's fans erupted in triumph, their cheers drowning out the groans from Madrid’s side.

Aitana scored. Athenea scored. Mariona scored. Hayley scored.

Now it came down to the final shot. Everything rested on Misa. If she couldn’t stop the next kick, it would all be over.

Alexia stepped up to the penalty spot, her face composed, her body radiating quiet confidence. She armed her leg, struck the ball, and sent it soaring into the top corner of the net.

That was it. Madrid had lost.

The Barcelona players exploded in celebration, rushing onto the pitch as Madrid’s players stood frozen in shock and heartbreak. My camera hung limply in my hands. I had forgotten to take pictures, unable to focus on anything but the figure of Misa lying on her back in front of the goal, her gloves covering her face.

As Barça celebrated, Alexia broke away from her teammates. She crouched at Misa’s side, murmuring words I couldn’t hear. Slowly, she helped Misa to her feet, removing her gloves with gentle hands. Misa’s face was streaked with tears, her swollen eyes shut as she sobbed quietly.

The two walked toward the tunnel together, Alexia’s arm draped protectively around Misa’s shoulders. One of the other photographers was snapping pictures relentlessly, the sound of his shutter cutting through the air.

A wave of anger surged through me.

I got up and closed the distance between myself and the man. "Give her a rest, okay?!" I snapped, my voice sharp and loud.

The man looked at me in astonishment, his blank expression suggesting he didn’t understand English.

Noticing the commotion, Misa and Alexia stopped a few steps away. Misa lowered her head, unable to meet my gaze. Alexia, on the other hand, looked at me kindly. Her guilt was evident, a silent acknowledgment that she had played a part in her friend’s pain.

"I can take her to the locker room if you want," I offered, surprising even myself with the words. My job had been the last thing on my mind.

Alexia turned to Misa, waiting for her approval. Misa hesitated for a moment before nodding.

I stepped forward, gently taking over from Alexia. Without a word, I guided Misa into the tunnel, her quiet sobs echoing faintly in the stillness of the corridor.

I made Misa sit on the farthest bench of the locker room. Everything was quiet here, the screeches of the celebration reduced to a distant echo. The goalkeeper had stopped crying. Her board shoulders and muscular body seemed fragile somehow. I took a seat beside her, unsure of what to do now it was up to me to comfort her. 

"I’m sorry," I said softly.

"We were so close!" she cried. "Let’s just go! I don’t want to be there, I don’t want the puta silver medal again!" She blew her nose hard and rubbed her red eyes with a towel lying nearby. Exhaustion oozed from her at every level. 

"No, Misa, you can’t go" I responded, catching a surprised side-eye, as surprise as she could be in her current state. "You can’t go because everything’s not about wining or being the best! Football doesn’t have to be about that. It’s not about the score, the cup or whatever. Football is an emotion, a battle, a shared experience. And first and foremost, it’s a spectacle, and you put on one hell of a show as a team and as a player tonight! If you leave, it would mean nothing remains. You have to go back, Misa." 

Silence settled between us. I felt exposed and embarrassed by the words I had just spoken. It was ridiculous to be saying something so obvious to a seasoned footballer when I was barely discovering the sport myself.

The goalkeeper exhaled deeply. "You lied to me," she said, confusing me. She chuckled softly. "You acted like you didn’t know a thing about football." She painfully stood up and gestured for me to do the same. "But you do," she added, smiling as we faced each other.

The tall woman pulled me into a hug, her head resting on my shoulder, and I held her tightly. I gently stroked her back. Her jersey was wet, and she clearly reeked of sweat, but I didn’t care. I just wanted us to stay like this, clinging to each other.

After a minute or so, we parted and smiled softly at each other. Despite her weariness, Misa seemed less drained. She was waiting for... something, her expectant gaze fixed on me. Her dimples returned with her grin, lighting up her tired face. I kept smiling, my mind racing to figure out what I should do, what I could do… what I wanted to do. When she thought I wouldn’t do anything, Misa’s smile faltered a little, and she began to turn away. 

"Misa, wait..." I grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward me. I caught a glimpse of her surprised yet eager expression before I kissed her.

I cupped her face, pressing my lips harder against hers. Misa let out a soft whimper, the sound setting my body ablaze. I slowly guided her backward until her back hit the locker room door. She gasped at the contact, one hand tangling in my hair while the other gripped the hem of my shirt. She parted her lips, and her taste filled me completely, drawing a moan from deep inside me.

Our heated kiss sharpened all my senses and turned my body into white-hot iron. My hand acted on its own, slipping under Misa’s jersey and gliding up her toned abs. She whimpered again, her fingers mirroring mine to touch the bare skin of my waist. Her soft, full lips moved over mine as our breathing turned erratic.

Fevered with desire, I let my hand drift down her stomach toward the waistband of her shorts. She groaned and suddenly froze.

"Wow! Nicky, wait..." she said, her voice gentle yet firm. I stopped abruptly as she took my face in her hands. "I need to go back," she said, her burning gaze locking onto mine.

 I exhaled, trying to tame the flames devouring my insides. 

"You have to go back," I repeated with a small smile. 

She placed a last kiss on my lips before leaving the room.

At that moment, Hell Clásico ended on a heavenly note.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

[itscoucouharry]

Rewritten Scars Chapter 4

Prepare for sweet sweet Harry. This part turned out better than I thought it would. As always enjoy!:)

Chapter 4: The Shift

Y/N’s POV

The next few weeks at Styles Enterprises were a whirlwind. Between adjusting to your new role and navigating the awkward tension of working in the same building as Harry Styles, you barely had time to catch your breath. To your surprise, he seemed to be taking your words seriously. There were no smug comments, no unnecessary run-ins. He gave you space, and you appreciated it.

But then little things started happening.

It began on a Tuesday morning when you arrived at your desk to find a mug waiting for you—a sleek black ceramic mug, steam curling from the top, carrying the unmistakable scent of your favorite coffee: caramel macchiato with a hint of hazelnut.

You froze, staring at the mug like it might explode. A sticky note was stuck to the side, the handwriting annoyingly neat.

“Thought you might need this. — H”

You looked around the office, half-expecting him to pop out from somewhere and smirk at you, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Still, you couldn’t help but take a sip. It was perfect—just the way you liked it.

Harry’s POV

Harry watched from the corner of the office, pretending to review some reports while keeping an eye on you. He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips when you lifted the mug, sniffed it suspiciously, and finally took a sip. He’d spent a ridiculous amount of time scrolling through your Instagram the night before, hoping to find some clue about your coffee order. He’d hit gold when he stumbled across an old photo captioned, “Starting the day right: caramel + hazelnut = heaven.”

He knew it was a small gesture, but it was a start.

Y/N’s POV

You didn’t look in his direction, but he saw the slight softening in your expression as you set the mug down. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give him a glimmer of hope.

Over the next few days, more changes became noticeable. Harry made sure your workload was manageable, subtly redirecting overly demanding projects to other team members without making a big deal of it. He arranged for your team to get new ergonomic chairs after overhearing you mention a sore back. He even went out of his way to greet you every morning with a simple, “Good morning, Y/N,” his tone sincere and devoid of any arrogance.

At first, you couldn’t help but be suspicious. Was this some elaborate ploy to win you over? But the more you observed, the harder it was to deny that his efforts felt… genuine.

Harry’s POV

Every night, Harry replayed your words from the confrontation in his office. He knew he couldn’t erase the pain he’d caused, but he was determined to show you that he’d changed. That he wasn’t the same cruel boy who’d tormented you.

He made a point of asking your team for feedback—not in a way that singled you out, but just enough to gauge how things were going for you. He listened when they mentioned your frustrations, like the outdated software slowing down your work, and immediately approved a system upgrade.

It wasn’t about buying your forgiveness. It was about creating an environment where you didn’t have to feel the way he’d made you feel all those years ago.

Y/N’s POV

You noticed the changes but refused to acknowledge them directly. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d won you over. But the morning you walked into the office and found a sleek new laptop on your desk with another note—“For when the old one acts up again. Hope this helps.- H”—you felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite place.

Reluctantly, you began to wonder: Could people really change?

Harry’s POV

He didn’t expect a thank-you for the coffee, the laptop, or the chairs. Hell, he didn’t even expect you to speak to him outside of work matters. But that didn’t stop him from trying. Every little gesture, every effort to make your experience at Styles Enterprises a good one, was a step toward redemption in his eyes.

One evening, long after most of the office had cleared out, Harry sat at his desk, scrolling through a list of potential wellness initiatives for employees. He’d heard you mention during a meeting that mental health support was often overlooked in corporate environments, and he wanted to make sure that wasn’t the case here.

He drafted an email to HR suggesting an in-house therapist be made available for employees, attaching a few articles about the benefits. His finger hovered over the “Send” button for a moment before he clicked it.

It was just one more step in a journey he wasn’t sure he’d ever complete. But for the first time in his life, he didn’t mind the work.

Y/N’s POV

That Friday, you found yourself working late again, your office nearly empty as the city lights twinkled through the windows. Your new laptop hummed softly as you wrapped up an overdue report. You stretched your arms over your head, groaning quietly at the ache in your back.

“Burning the midnight oil?”

You jumped, startled by the voice. Turning, you saw Harry leaning casually against the doorway, holding two steaming paper cups.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, more sharply than you intended.

He raised the cups in his hands. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.” He approached slowly, placing one on your desk. “Decaf caramel macchiato—extra hazelnut. Don’t worry, I checked this time. No surprises.”

Your stomach twisted—not with anger, but something far more dangerous. “You’re really going all in on this nice-guy act, huh?”

“It’s not an act,” he said quietly, pulling a chair from the empty desk beside you and sitting down. His green eyes locked onto yours, soft and unguarded. “I know I have a lot to make up for. But I want to.”

You rolled your eyes, though the heat creeping into your face betrayed you. “I’m starting to think you’re trying to bribe me with coffee.”

“Is it working?” he asked, his lips curling into a faint, boyish smile.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Maybe a little.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I mean it, Y/N. I’m not doing this because I want you to forgive me overnight. I’m doing it because… I care. I’ve hurt you enough. The least I can do is try to make your life a little better now.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. “You don’t owe me anything, Harry. I don’t need you to—”

“I do owe you,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “I owe you an apology for every word I ever said that made you doubt yourself. For every time I made you feel small. And I owe you a hell of a lot more than coffee and a new laptop to make up for it.”

The vulnerability in his words left you speechless. For the first time, you allowed yourself to see the man he’d become instead of the boy he used to be. And, God help you, that man was making it hard to stay angry.

“Harry…” you started, your voice faltering.

“What?” he asked softly, leaning in just enough that you could smell the faint hint of cedarwood cologne on him.

Your heart raced as you searched for something to say, but nothing came. Instead, you felt yourself drawn to the warmth in his gaze, the way his lips quirked up like he could read your mind and was waiting for you to catch up.

“Why are you being so sweet?” you whispered finally.

His smile widened, but it wasn’t smug—it was soft, disarming. “Because I want to be. Because I’ve spent too much time being an idiot, and I’m done with that. And because…” He hesitated, his eyes flicking to your lips for just a second before returning to your face. “Because you deserve it.”

The air between you shifted, charged with something electric. You hated how fast your pulse was racing, how the flutter in your stomach betrayed every ounce of resolve you’d built up.

“You’re trouble,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“Only the good kind,” he countered, his voice low.

And for the first time in years, you didn’t feel the weight of anger or resentment when you looked at him. Instead, you felt your heart start to crack open, just a little.

“Maybe,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But don’t push your luck.”

He grinned, leaning back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

But the way his eyes lingered on you, warm and hopeful, told you this was far from over. And for once, you weren’t sure you wanted it to be.

[tobiasdrake]

How would you write Majin Boo and Yamcha in the Tournament of Power, instead of Roshi and 17?

Honestly, Buu would be pretty game-breaking. I can't really conceive of any reason why Buu wouldn't absorb Jiren and anticlimactically waste everybody else fighting in the tournament.

As the be-all end-all final villain of Dragon Ball, Buu's ability to just eat whoever's stronger than him and gain their power for himself is completely busted. It makes it very difficult to write him into scenarios where he is a struggling underdog trying to compete with a superior foe.

Which is probably why Super snubs him so much. This is a character who has near limitless regeneration on top of the ability to turn every single fighter in the tournament into candy and he can just absorb everybody who's stronger than him whenever he runs into a brick wall. That's great for an overpowered villain that we need to find some way to beat, but terrible for a protagonist who needs to be challenged.

Like. It cannot be understated how devastating Buu's Candy Beam would be here. He can spread it over a wide area. He could literally step out onto that stage and Gobstopper every fighter from every universe simultaneously.

And sure, some of them would be able to Universe's Strongest Jawbreaker that shit. But it's still kind of purpose-defeating if like 80% of the assembled fighters are KO'd in the first three seconds. Buu just waves his antenna and erases anyone who isn't Power Levels enough to compete with Vegetto? Okay, man. There go all the fun fights for the weaker characters. Buh-bye.

Even then, if they aren't allowed to fly, like... how are they supposed to fight now? Is Gobstopper Jiren just supposed to spend the rest of the arc rolling into other gobstoppers super hard to ping them off the field?

Actually, that sounds amazing. XD

But in an AU capacity, not in a "This is seriously the plot of the show" capacity.

I don't think Toriyama would have kept Buu around if he wasn't planning on closing the book on Dragon Ball shortly after. Buu joining the supporting cast is very much a "Fuck it, we're done anyway" decision that the series is now paying for, and its solution is to just... find ways to conveniently kick him out of the cast over and over again.

Going into the Tournament of Power... Like, right from the get-go, Buu is going to be nerfed by the rules of the tournament. He can't eat people. That would probably be how you get around the "Buu just deletes half the tournament roster" problem.

He's just. He's not allowed to use his powers. Sorry. Buu has to fight with one hand behind his back. Dem's the rules.

I don't know if he would actually abide by that rule. He might just end up disqualified after eating Toppo. Buu is a selfish, impulsive hedonist who reflexively lashes out at authority. He's just gonna do whatever he wants and let the chips fall where they may.

But if Mr. Satan tells him not to eat anyone, he... probably won't eat anyone? Might still Candy Beam them though. Turning them all into marbles and rolling them off the stage would technically be within the terms of a "NO EATING PEOPLE" restriction.

Buu's crowd control options are bad for the narrative integrity of a battle royale. Even right now, I'm trying to figure out how he could be involved and still having to write around his powerset rather than being able to incorporate and challenge it to its fullest.

I don't know. It's honestly difficult to incorporate him in a way that would be respectful and utilize him in interesting ways without letting him dominate and break the plot.

I think he could work as the villain of another universe's story. Have Buu take the field as the threat that's gonna carry us to victory until fighters from another universe find a way to team up and take him down.

But for the life of me, I can't get around, "Why doesn't he just Candy Beam the entire arena?"

...

As for Yamcha, I probably wouldn't write him into the Tournament of Power. Yamcha quit during the Cell arc and I'm entirely happy to let him. If I was writing Yamcha in Super, probably the only thing I'd do with him is properly introduce his new girlfriend from the end of the Cell Games.

Put an actual name and a face to her, so the fandom can stop ignoring her existence when they complain that Bulma condemned Yamcha to die alone and unloved.

I mean, I'd pick Yamcha over Roshi, to be sure. I feel like the series has forgotten that the Muten-Roshi isn't Goku's "One True Master" or anything like that. Goku has a lot of respect for the man who set him on his path, and he wears the Kame-senryu dogi out of that respect. But he learned everything Roshi had to teach him and left him in the dust long ago, a fact that made Roshi proud.

That story is over. The Muten-Roshi is a 300-year-old man who just wants to enjoy his retirement. Stop trying to make him relevant again! And also just. In general. Stop trying to make "Goku the wide-eyed pupil" happen again. It's done. He's a master now. Let him be a master.

Lotta beefs with DBS.

But yeah, while I agree with the criticism of "Why Roshi and not Yamcha", it's only to the extent that going with Yamcha is still kicking the can down the road. I cannot conceive of a single way that Yamcha's character or the story would be enriched by the Tournament of Power, that wouldn't just feel like hollow fanservice.

"Yamcha got to WIN A FIGHT AGAINST SOMEONE. This one's for you, Yamcha stans! Okay, he's done, someone punt this dipshit off the stage."

Which. To be fair. A lot of the ToP is hollow fanservice. I... did not like that arc very much. Or DBS as a whole, for that matter. So I'm probably not the guy to figure out the best way to utilize characters in it.

But for me, I'd be more interested in a proper Yamcha epilogue that closes out his character on a satisfying note and sends him off, than in desperately trying to drag Yamcha back into the game and shackling him into a status quo he already respectfully bowed out of.

[thatonecrookedsmile]

It's been a little over a month since I read FTB and I wanted to do (and say, I think) a few things related to it. So here, take this. FTB stuff I was wanting to share.

Including some drawings/my designs for some characters (the ones above), some separate sketches, and giving some long thoughts on the book. (This post is looong so I'm going to put everything under the curtain. Enjoy!)

Starting: Rose, Evan and Archie. They are the ones that, I admit, are what I wanted to draw/design most while/after I read the book. Now, at least, if I want to make something involving one of these three one day, I have designs ready to go! Hooray! Evan is the only one of the three that I actually had to design from scratch. With Rose I had made a sketch 1 year ago conceptualizing the idea for her design, and it was only recently that I came back to this idea to finally solidify it. And I had already done Archie's design last year while I was doing my designs for the human cast of BATDR, so I was already prepared without even knowing it.

Also,Ink!Archie!! The poor guy got screwed pretty badly. First two designs in the first image are based on the events in the book. The one on the left is him seen mostly in the book (alive) and the one on the right is when he is in the Ink Realm, post-death. The design in the second image was supposed to be a stylization/variation of his Cycle design. I tried drawing him with a visible mouth/teeth similar to what I did with Sammy in a recent drawing and in some sketches that I didn't post here. I'm not sure about the beard tho. I think I exaggerated it. Next time, remember to draw less beard in this design. (And maybe, for the design that is more "close to canon", don't draw the ends of the hair and beard in the Cycle design)

Any other character in the book, either I don't have a design and I don't plan on making a design for them now, or I do but it will take a while to show them. (I promise I'll show Dot one day)

I also have some additional sketches. So if you want to take a look at that too, here it is:

Ollie Sorenson. This wasn't quite the way I had imagined him when I was reading the book but 1. the hair I tried to draw for him before didn't work out well, so I went another route and 2. Ollie isn't particularly a character in this book that I'm going to I think a lot in comparison to the others (he's still cool, tho) and I doubt I'll make another design for him, so let's go with this one. Not a bad design,so,eh.

Rose. Sketch on the left was made last year. I'm almost certain it was done after the book synopsis was revealed by Kress. The sketch on the right was made last month when I was reading the book. I took the idea from the sketch on the left and tried to solidify her design better.

Evan. Some other sketches made when I read the book. I had just completed his design and wanted to test it a little more to, you know, see if I can actually draw him. Verdict? I think I can.

And now uhhhhhh what I thought of the book! I previously considered doing a separate text post with these thoughts only but I don't do text-only posts in general and if I were to make a separate post it would take a while and it would come out more than 1 month/probably 2 months since I read the book and it would be kinda awkward. And I'm already writing this post, so why not put it all here now, right?

(Warning: My thoughts on the book ended up being MUCH LONGER THAN I EXPECTED TO WRITE. You don't need to read them if you want, they are just more additional and optional things. But if you are going to read them, be warned)

(Spoilers: I may have strayed a little off topic when I started talking about Archie. Don't mention how long his paragraph is, tho)

But yeah, Fade To Black. That was something else, I tell you (and I mean that in a positive way). Probably reading this book after all the fuss that happened about the books a while ago wasn't the best idea possible. But even with…all that in mind, I still wanted to read this for a long time, and I'm glad I went ahead with it. I had a lot of fun with the book! And thinking about it a little over a month after finishing it, I think I can say that this book is up there as, like, one of my favorites of the Bendy books that have been released to date. Before this, I would have considered DCTL my favorite of the books, so I'm somewhere between saying that both of these two are my favorite books in this series and that I like them equally, or that FTB has now become my favorite book of the series, surpassing DCTL. (Maybe I'll have a better idea of ​​this later this year when I reread these books once again)

I really liked the story told, its concept had already interested me since its synopsis was revealed last year - the setting in the 50's, the TV show, the whole 3D glasses thing - so it's no surprise that I was very interested in what this book had to tell. And since I already brought that up: I liked the new concepts it brings to the table,specifically,of course,the glasses and the TV. An idea that,I admit,at first is something I thought was a bit different (and dare i say unusual?) from what I usually see in the Bendy universe (although, it's not something so out of the ordinary from what we've seen before in the series) but I have to say that it's something that I thought was cool even so. 3D glasses that end up transporting your mind into the televised cartoons (and,by all accounts,the ink realm). The jokes I saw that Joey created virtual reality in this book weren't so far-fetched after all lol. But still, it's a concept that I admit to having been interested in, and that it might be cool to play around with in fanon stuff. I also considered this could open doors for other, more "wild" ideas to be explored in the books (as long as they still make sense for a >Bendy< book, of course). I also liked the whole segment taking place in the ink realm at the end of the book, and I hope that this can open up possibilities for future novel stories to take place there, either partially (as in this one) or in full (I accept an entire novel taking place in the cycle,ngl). The additional lore for the ink realm is a nice treat and adds more to what we have in the games. I admit that, at the same time, I feel a little thoughtful about a certain part of this additional lore that - assuming the way I understand it is right - leaves me wondering if this "extended origin" of the cycle coupled with what we already know of its lore would make sense in the games, and how these ideias would be acknowledged in future entries. But at the same time, I may be overthinking this, and the stars may still be aligned, and I've gotten the information wrong. Despite everything, I liked what was told about the ink realm in this book, I appreciate this "extended origin" at the end of the day.

I really liked the cast, both the new ones and the old faces. Rose is great, I really liked her as the protagonist. She's already one of my favorite book characters, I hope we hear from her again in the future. Also, it's good to have a protagonist in these books who survives in the end. Okay, sure, she didn't come out of it 100% unharmed, considering what the ending implies, but still. Again. It's good to have a protagonist in these books who came out of this alive at the end. Evan is also very good. Even though I want to slap him on the back of the head, I also hope to hear from him again, especially considering the way he "exited the story" (is that how you say it?). I talked about the possibility of a future novel taking place in the ink realm, I think that would give a good chance of bringing him back, now as an ink creature. I don't have much to say about Ollie, but I also thought he was cool. The scenes between him and Rose are very nice and the scenes related to the "Bendy Visions" caused by the glasses is another concept that I found very interesting (Tense moments, but cool ones nonetheless) Very happy to see Dot again. I like her character, and I always wanted to see what happened to her after the events of DCTL (TLO had already implied that she was still alive, but I wanted to know more, you know). Her participation in this book is very good, and a chapter that I have to highlight is the one where she meets Rose and they talk in the cafe. Their conversation alone is very good, but the specific part that got me was Dot talking about Buddy, what happened to her after the first book, and Buddy's family. That part was like. A slap in the heart, I'm not going to lie. This chapter made me sad, 10/10. Favorite chapter of the book.

Archie Carter was a big surprise (not really, I already knew he would be here before reading the book), and he is another of my favorite aspects of the book. It's good to see one of the characters from BATDR's human cast ending up being used more in a story. Archie in the game, like other characters we saw in the audio logs in DR, is a "One and done" situation where we only hear from him once and that's it, combined with the fact that he is ultimately just another background character who exists mostly to fill the world and give information that is not necessarily integral to the main things that occur in the game and is more to tell about different things, people and events that were also occurring inside the studio and in the outside world ( those of the lost city and Gent Workshop, essentially) pre-game events. (I really don't know how to explain this properly, but I would say that the "thing" of the information given by the new human cast (with the exception of the Archs) is the same thing as the characters who are giving such information: filling the world. I hope you get the gist of what I'm saying) And while I wouldn't say the information on these tapes is really irrelevant (in Archie's case, he provides some of the most interesting), and in my case, I don't mind the addition of the newbies, I don't blame other people for not being interested, don't get attached to or even dislike these new characters who don't do much in the grand scheme of things in DR and in comparison to the BATIM cast (or at least, the majority of the IM cast). So seeing at least 1 of these newcomers being used more deeply in a story and having their characters expanded is good! And I liked what was done with Archie here. You know the guy who worked at Gent as a test subject and who saw bad things happening at the company? Guess what! Same company screwed up his life and now he's a half-human-half-ink creature guy infected with evil ink and his current situation is not good at all! He's going through horrors unfortunately (especially in the cycle), but I really like what Adrienne did with Archie in this book. Again, he is one of the highlights of this book, and I hope that something similar ends up happening with other DR characters in future stories (manifesting the novel that uses Bill Danton and/or Grace Conway in some capacity 🙌) Plus, I also think it's cool that of all the DR characters to be used, it was the one voiced by SuperHorrorBro who ended up being chosen for this book (I like SHB, what can I say)

Joey (like in the other books) is a standout (and considering what we specifically see of him in this book, he's especially a standout here). More of Allison, even though in the end it's just a small one-scene cameo. Finally, I'm being fed the bread crumbs I craved. And I think now I have another version of Henry to talk about. My collection is growing strong, now I have 3 versions of my favorite old man! Among the new ones, and especially the secondary and tertiary ones, Papa D and Gladys are nice, even though they don't have much time in the story. Oh, and Wilson showed up too. He doesn't do much either, he's just there to be creepy. But I will acknowledge him.

I also enjoyed seeing some of the ideias showcased first in BATDR here (which makes sense, this book came out well after the game finally released). I always found it interesting to see more of Gent in the spotlight, and reading and knowing a little more about the things they were doing after JDS closed is nice. (And I think it's good to see more reaffirmation of what BATDR had already implied. That Gent also had eyes on the Ink Machine even when the studio was still open, and when the studio collapsed, they still continued the ink experiments in their own facilities. Again, this was already something that had been shown in DR, but it's good to see more reaffirmation here) The appearance of the Siverlane Express was something that I really appreciated, even if it was something very short. I ealready talk about Archie in one giant paragraph, and again, Wilson is here too.

There isn't really anything I "disliked" about this book, but at most, I only have a few nitpicks. The Ink Demon appears in the story, but compared to DCTL and TLO, I feel FTB is definitely the book where he appears the least. I mean, yeah, the story isn't about him in the end, but it's still something I managed to notice. I also feel that, in my opinion, this is the least "scary" of the 3. Not that it doesn't have "scary" elements but still, compared to moments in the other books like Buddy in the infirmary, or the TLO trio in the old factory, I don't know if this book would be the most "scary" of the trilogy. However,FTB still has several suspenseful scenes (the Bendy visions, some scenes with Ollie, Archie's pre-introduction, Wilson in the library), which I also like anyway. And I'll admit. While this idea isn't that far out there - and in the context of the story, it makes sense - I kind of raised an eyebrow a little at the whole "using your mind/imagination to get out of the ink realm" thing. It is not bad! And again, with what we saw in the book, this idea actually fits with what we had seen so far in the story. But I can't lie that when we got to this moment I was like "oh, this is something that happened, I guess", you know? But even so, I didn't dislike the idea.

(I once saw someone describe this part of the book as "they canonized no-clipping in Bendy" and you know what? I think that's funny. I think we need to start referring to this idea in the book as that instead of "using the imagination" /hj)

But even so, even with these small "nitpicks", I still had a lot of fun with this book. I really enjoyed reading it, and not only is it now one of my favorite Bendy books so far, I dare say it's one of my favorite things about the franchise in general. Like, if I had to make a top 3 of my favorite things from the Bendy series so far, I'd say it's this book and the first two mainline games. I guess this is to show how much I enjoyed the book!

And with that, my journey with the Bendy books ends. At least, with the books I managed to have access so far. I have no plans to pursue the updated version of the Employee Handbook so far, but from what I've heard and seen so far, I'm not missing anything too important. And the DCTL graphic novel….exists. It's definitely a graphic novel that exists. Dare I say that it is definitely one of the graphic novels of all time, alright. But what have I read so far? It was what I would say, a good journey. I've been interested in the Bendy books for a long time, and it's been a while since I read them, and I'm glad I did, despite recent events. Of course, they have their flaws and problems too, I have things about them that I myself identify as bumps in the road (and that applies to the novel trilogy too btw) But even with them in mind and acknowledging them, I still think that they are worth something. And I hope people still continue to recognize them and give them a chance. Even with its flaws, and with their whole canocity thing that happened a while ago, I still believe that people should check out the books eventually. Give it a chance, you know? If they did, and liked what they read, great! But if they don't like it, that's okay too! In the end, at least they, on both sides, gave it a chance. And that's what I at least want to see. I don't like the idea of ​​discarding these things and pretending they don't exist just because the devs said they aren't canon to the games (because, in my view, just because the books aren't canon doesn't make them without value or that you can't have fun with them after all)

WOW, this is getting long, I think I got carried away. I think that's all I had to say. To conclude everything, here is my list of the Bendy books that I like the most and the ones I like least:

Fade To Black (I've already talked a lot about this book)

Dreams Come To Life (hand in hand with FTB being in first place. It has its flaws, some that may have already been mentioned before, but I still found myself liking it in the end. For a first novel, it worked out fine)

Crack-Up Comics (Really liked the comics. It's good to see more things related to the cartoon characters, and I like some of the characters introduced. Pretty fun stuff)

The Lost Ones (it's not a very "Bendy" focused book compared to the others, and I don't blame those who didn't like this one because of the lack of many Bendy elements, but I confess that I still liked it as much as the other 2, and I loved the protagonists of this one. Even so, of the trilogy, it is the weakest book)

The Illusion of Living (In itself, it's an interesting read. It's really cool to see more of Joey from a deeper angle, and see more of his past. But I confess that it's not my favorite read, and I still prefer the main novels. Not bad, tho)

JDS Employee Handbook (2019) (For the first Bendy book overall, it's not bad, and I like the lore tidbits it has. But compared to the rest, it's actually the weakest)

The TL;DR is: Fade To Black is fun and my favorite, I liked its story and characters. I liked the books. Check them out if you want. If you liked them, cool. If you didn't like them, that's cool too. Read in general.

And if you've read this far: Thank you! And at the same time, I'm sorry! Have a good day/afternoon/night everyone. Peace.

[egophiliac]

HEY guess who's being completely normal about episode 7 :)

anyway it sure ain't me, so I made myself a baby Malleus! I used the single-headed version of Choly Knight's hydra pattern (link will be in replies ↓↓↓) as a base, and just messed with some of the pieces to make him more Mall-y. including sewing all those little claw pieces, then pinning them on and realizing I actually liked him better without them...oh well. to heck with accuracy, I want stubby little dragon legs!

unfortunately, he doesn't photograph very well, especially his forehead scales (they're there! I promise!) (they're made of glitter HTV so they are actually SPARKLY in real life, yet apparently they come out completely invisible in photos, woe). but he is super cuddly and soft so I'm happy with him! just as in canon, he is a product of LOVE. :>