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mere-christianity · 2 months ago

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Mere Christianity Podcast: Episode 7

Book 3: Christian Behaviour

Chapter 1. The Three Parts Of Morality

There is a story about a schoolboy who was asked what he thought God was like. He replied that, as far as he could make out, God was "The sort of person who is always snooping round to see if anyone is enjoying himself and then trying to stop it." And I am afraid that is the sort of idea that the word Morality raises in a good many people's minds: something that interferes, something that stops you having a good time. In reality, moral rules are directions for running the human machine. Every moral rule is there to prevent a breakdown, or a strain, or a friction, in the running of that machine. That is why these rules at first seem to be constantly interfering with our natural inclinations.

When you are being taught how to use any machine, the instructor keeps on saying, "No, don't do it like that," because, of course, there are all sorts of things that look all right and seem to you the natural way of treating the machine, but do not really work.

Some people prefer to talk about moral "ideals" rather than moral rules and about moral "idealism" rather than moral obedience. Now it is, of course, quite true that moral perfection is an "ideal" in the sense that we cannot achieve it. In that sense every kind of perfection is, for us humans, an ideal; we cannot succeed in being perfect car drivers or perfect tennis players or in drawing perfectly straight lines. But there is another sense in which it is very misleading to call moral perfection an ideal. When a man says that a certain woman, or house, or ship, or garden is "his ideal" he does not mean (unless he is rather a fool) that everyone else ought to have the same ideal. In such matters we are entitled to have different tastes and, therefore, different ideals. But it is dangerous to describe a man who tries very hard to keep the moral law as a "man of high ideals," because this might lead you to think that moral perfection was a private taste of his own and that the rest of us were not called on to share it. This would be a disastrous mistake. Perfect behaviour may be as unattainable as perfect gear-changing when we drive; but it is a necessary ideal prescribed for all men by the very nature of the human machine just as perfect gear-changing is an ideal prescribed for all drivers by the very nature of cars. And it would be even more dangerous to think of oneself as a person "of high ideals" because one is trying to tell no lies at all (instead of only a few lies) or never to commit adultery (instead of committing it only seldom) or not to be a bully (instead of being only a moderate bully). It might lead you to become a prig and to think you were rather a special person who deserved to be congratulated on his "idealism." In reality you might just as well expect to be congratulated because, whenever you do a sum, you try to get it quite right. To be sure, perfect arithmetic is "an ideal"; you will certainly make some mistakes in some calculations. But there is nothing very fine about trying to be quite accurate at each step in each sum. It would be idiotic not to try; for every mistake is going to cause you trouble later on. In the same way every moral failure is going to cause trouble, probably to others and certainly to yourself. By talking about rules and obedience instead of "ideals" and "idealism" we help to remind ourselves of these facts.

Now let us go a step further. There are two ways in which the human machine goes wrong. One is when human individuals drift apart from one another, or else collide with one another and do one another damage, by cheating or bullying. The other is when things go wrong inside the individual-when the different parts of him (his different faculties and desires and so on) either drift apart or interfere with one another. You can get the idea plain if you think of us as a fleet of ships sailing in formation. The voyage will be a success only, in the first place, if the ships do not collide and get in one another's way; and, secondly, if each ship is seaworthy and has her engines in good order. As a matter of fact, you cannot have either of these two things without the other. If the ships keep on having collisions they will not remain seaworthy very long. On the other hand, if their steering gears are out of order they will not be able to avoid collisions. Or, if you like, think of humanity as a band playing a tune. To get a good result, you need two things. Each player's individual instrument must be in tune and also each must come in at the right moment so as to combine with all the others.

But there is one thing we have not yet taken into account. We have not asked where the fleet is trying to get to, or what piece of music the band is trying to play. The instruments might be all in tune and might all come in at the right moment, but even so the performance would not be a success if they had been engaged to provide dance music and actually played nothing but Dead Marches. And however well the fleet sailed, its voyage would be a failure if it were meant to reach New York and actually arrived at Calcutta.

Morality, then, seems to be concerned with three things. Firstly, with fair play and harmony between individuals. Secondly, with what might be called tidying up or harmonising the things inside each individual. Thirdly, with the general purpose of human life as a whole: what man was made for: what course the whole fleet ought to be on: what tune the conductor of the band wants it to play.

You may have noticed that modern people are nearly always thinking about the first thing and forgetting the other two. When people say in the newspapers that we are striving for Christian moral standards, they usually mean that we are striving for kindness and fair play between nations, and classes, and individuals; that is, they are thinking only of the first thing. When a man says about something he wants to do, "It can't be wrong because it doesn't do anyone else any harm," he is thinking only of the first thing. He is thinking it does not matter what his ship is like inside provided that he does not run into the next ship. And it is quite natural, when we start thinking about morality, to begin with the first thing, with social relations. For one thing, the results of bad morality in that sphere are so obvious and press on us every day: war and poverty and graft and lies and shoddy work. And also, as long as you stick to the first thing, there is very little disagreement about morality. Almost all people at all times have agreed (in theory) that human beings ought to be honest and kind and helpful to one another. But though it is natural to begin with all that, if our thinking about morality stops there, we might just as well not have thought at all. Unless we go on to the second thing-the tidying up inside each human being-we are only deceiving ourselves.

What is the good of telling the ships how to steer so as to avoid collisions if, in fact, they are such crazy old tubs that they cannot be steered at all? What is the good of drawing up, on paper, rules for social behaviour, if we know that, in fact, our greed, cowardice, ill temper, and self-conceit are going to prevent us from keeping them? I do not mean for a moment that we ought not to think, and think hard, about improvements in our social and economic system. What I do mean is that all that thinking will be mere moonshine unless we realise that nothing but the courage and unselfishness of individuals is ever going to make any system work properly. It is easy enough to remove the particular kinds of graft or bullying that go on under the present system: but as long as men are twisters or bullies they will find some new way of carrying on the old game under the new system. You cannot make men good by law: and without good men you cannot have a good society. That is why we must go on to think of the second thing: of morality inside the individual.

But I do not think we can stop there either. We are now getting to the point at which different beliefs about the universe lead to different behaviour. And it would seem, at first sight, very sensible to stop before we got there, and just carry on with those parts of morality that all sensible people agree about. But can we? Remember that religion involves a series of statements about facts, which must be either true or false. If they are true, one set of conclusions will follow about the right sailing of the human fleet: if they are false, quite a different set. For example, let us go back to the man who says that a thing cannot be wrong unless it hurts some other human being. He quite understands that he must not damage the other ships in the convoy, but he honestly thinks that what he does to his own ship is simply his own business. But does it not make a great difference whether his ship is his own property or not? Does it not make a great difference whether I am, so to speak, the landlord of my own mind and body, or only a tenant, responsible to the real landlord? If somebody else made me, for his own purposes, then I shall have a lot of duties which I should not have if I simply belonged to myself.

Again, Christianity asserts that every individual human being is going to live for ever, and this must be either true or false. Now there are a good many things which would not be worth bothering about if I were going to live only seventy years, but which I had better bother about very seriously if I am going to live for ever. Perhaps my bad temper or my jealousy are gradually getting worse -so gradually that the increase in seventy years will not be very noticeable. But it might be absolute hell in a million years: in fact, if Christianity is true, Hell is the precisely correct technical term for what it would be. And immortality makes this other difference, which, by the by, has a connection with the difference between totalitarianism and democracy. If individuals live only seventy years, then a state, or a nation, or a civilisation, which may last for a thousand years, is more important than an individual. But if Christianity is true, then the individual is not only more important but incomparably more important, for he is everlasting and the life of a state or a civilisation, compared with his, is only a moment.

It seems, then, that if we are to think about morality, we must think of all three departments: relations between man and man: things inside each man: and relations between man and the power that made him. We can all cooperate in the first one. Disagreements begin with the second and become serious with the third. It is in dealing with the third that the main differences between Christian and non-Christian morality come out. For the rest of this book I am going to assume the Christian point of view, and look at the whole picture as it will be if Christianity is true.

Chapter 2. The "Cardinal Virtues"

If you are allowed to talk for only ten minutes, pretty well everything else has to be sacrificed to brevity. One of my chief reasons for dividing morality up into three parts (with my picture of the ships sailing in convoy) was that this seemed the shortest way of covering the ground. Here I want to give some idea of another way in which the subject has been divided by old writers, which was too long to use in my talk, but which is a very good one.

According to this longer scheme there are seven "virtues." Four of them are called "Cardinal" virtues, and the remaining three are called "Theological" virtues. The "Cardinal" ones are those which all civilised people recognise: the "Theological" are those which, as a rule, only Christians know about. I shall deal with the Theological ones later on: at present I am talking about the four Cardinal virtues. (The word "cardinal" has nothing to do with "Cardinals" in the Roman Church. It comes from a Latin word meaning "the hinge of a door." These were called "cardinal" virtues because they are, as we should say, "pivotal.") They are PRUDENCE, TEMPERANCE, JUSTICE, and FORTITUDE.

Prudence means practical common sense, taking the trouble to think out what you are doing and what is likely to come of it. Nowadays most people hardly think of Prudence as one of the "virtues." In fact, because Christ said we could only get into His world by being like children, many Christians have the idea that, provided you are "good," it does not matter being a fool. But that is a misunderstanding. In the first place, most children show plenty of "prudence" about doing the things they are really interested in, and think them out quite sensibly. In the second place, as St, Paul points out, Christ never meant that we were to remain children in intelligence: on the contrary, He told us to be not only "as harmless as doves," but also "as wise as serpents." He wants a child's heart, but a grown-up's head. He wants us to be simple, single-minded, affectionate, and teachable, as good children are; but He also wants every bit of intelligence we have to be alert at its job, and in first-class fighting trim. The fact that you are giving money to a charity does not mean that you need not try to find out whether that charity is a fraud or not. The fact that what you are thinking about is God Himself (for example, when you are praying) does not mean that you can be content with the same babyish ideas which you had when you were a five-year-old. It is, of course, quite true that God will not love you any the less, or have less use for you, if you happen to have been born with a very second-rate brain. He has room for people with very little sense, but He wants every one to use what sense they have. The proper motto is not "Be good, sweet maid, and let who can be clever," but "Be good, sweet maid, and don't forget that this involves being as clever as you can." God is no fonder of intellectual slackers than of any other slackers. If you are thinking of becoming a Christian, I warn you you are embarking on something which is going to take the whole of you, brains and all. But, fortunately, it works the other way round. Anyone who is honestly trying to be a Christian will soon find his intelligence being sharpened: one of the reasons why it needs no special education to be a Christian is that Christianity is an education itself. That is why an uneducated believer like Bunyan was able to write a book that has astonished the whole world.

Temperance is, unfortunately, one of those words that has changed its meaning. It now usually means teetotalism. But in the days when the second Cardinal virtue was christened "Temperance," it meant nothing of the sort. Temperance referred not specially to drink, but to all pleasures; and it meant not abstaining, but going the right length and no further. It is a mistake to think that Christians ought all to be teetotallers; Mohammedanism, not Christianity, is the teetotal religion. Of course it may be the duty of a particular Christian, or of any Christian, at a particular time, to abstain from strong drink, either because he is the sort of man who cannot drink at all without drinking too much, or because he wants to give the money to the poor, or because he is with people who are inclined to drunkenness and must not encourage them by drinking himself. But the whole point is that he is abstaining, for a good reason, from something which he does not condemn and which he likes to see other people enjoying. One of the marks of a certain type of bad man is that he cannot give up a thing himself without wanting every one else to give it up. That is not the Christian way. An individual Christian may see fit to give up all sorts of things for special reasons-marriage, or meat, or beer, or the cinema; but the moment he starts saying the things are bad in themselves, or looking down his nose at other people who do use them, he has taken the wrong turning.

One great piece of mischief has been done by the modern restriction of the word Temperance to the question of drink. It helps people to forget that you can be just as intemperate about lots of other things. A man who makes his golf or his motor-bicycle the centre of his life, or a woman who devotes all her thoughts to clothes or bridge or her dog, is being just as "intemperate" as someone who gets drunk every evening. Of course, it does not show on the outside so easily: bridge-mania or golf-mania do not make you fall down in the middle of the road. But God is not deceived by externals.

Justice means much more than the sort of thing that goes on in law courts. It is the old name for everything we should now call "fairness"; it includes honesty, give and take, truthfulness, keeping promises, and all that side of life. And Fortitude includes both kinds of courage-the kind that faces danger as well as the kind that "sticks it" under pain. "Guts" is perhaps the nearest modern English. You will notice, of course, that you cannot practise any of the other virtues very long without bringing this one into play.

There is one further point about the virtues that ought to be noticed. There is a difference between doing some particular just or temperate action and being a just or temperate man. Someone who is not a good tennis player may now and then make a good shot. What you mean by a good player is the man whose eye and muscles and nerves have been so trained by making innumerable good shots that they can now be relied on. They have a certain tone or quality which is there even when he is not playing, just as a mathematician's mind has a certain habit and outlook which is there even when he is not doing mathematics. In the same way a man who perseveres in doing just actions gets in the end a certain quality of character. Now it is that quality rather than the particular actions which we mean when we talk of "virtue."

This distinction is important for the following reason. If we thought only of the particular actions we might encourage three wrong ideas.

(1) We might think that, provided you did the right thing, it did not matter how or why you did it-whether you did it willingly or unwillingly, sulkily or cheerfully, through fear of public opinion or for its own sake. But the truth is that right actions done for the wrong reason do not help to build the internal quality or character called a "virtue," and it is this quality or character that really matters. (If the bad tennis player hits very hard, not because he sees that a very hard stroke is required, but because he has lost his temper, his stroke might possibly, by luck, help him to win that particular game; but it will not be helping him to become a reliable player.)

(2) We might think that God wanted simply obedience to a set of rules: whereas He really wants people of a particular sort.

(3) We might think that the "virtues" were necessary only for this present life-that in the other world we could stop being just because there is nothing to quarrel about and stop being brave because there is no danger. Now it is quite true that there will probably be no occasion for just or courageous acts in the next world, but there will be every occasion for being the sort of people that we can become only as the result of doing such acts here. The point is not that God will refuse you admission to His eternal world if you have not got certain qualities of character: the point is that if people have not got at least the beginnings of those qualities inside them, then no possible external conditions could make a "Heaven" for them-that is, could make them happy with the deep, strong, unshakable kind of happiness God intends for us.

To be continued in episode 8, based on the works of CS Lewis.

A Christian apologetical book by the British author C. S. Lewis. The book consists of four parts: the first presents Lewis's arguments for the existence of God; the second contains his defence of Christian theology, including his notable "Liar, lunatic, or Lord" trilemma; the third has him exploring Christian ethics, among which are cardinal and theological virtues; in the final, he writes on the Christian conception of God.

#Mere Christianity #Christian #Christ #Jesus #Christianity #podcast #CS Lewis #doctrine #God #book #devotional #catechism #ecumenical #non-denominational #non-sectarian

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asoulofatlantis · 6 months ago

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Who the heck is he talking to?

Could someone please finally kill him?

Look! I get that he is traumatized and scared and all that, but this kid is annoying and stupid and the "I am so scared I want my mommy and I don't trust those monsters that protect us!" - phase should be over by now. Someone slap him hard and then throw him to the monsters, we are better off without him anyway.

I wonder what would have happened if I trusted her instead of Kaito. Would we have all died?

Far too many spiders in this game... I do wonder tho... how am I supposed to help them, now that they are stuck in this Cable-Car-Thingy?

Oh? I guess we are truly not at the Digiworld, huh? More like a parallel universe or something. And it seems sacrificing those children had a reason too. Uhu. Interesting.

He already had a champion-level evolution. Nice. And comes in really handy right now, as I am immensely understaffed.

I really don't like this Shinji guy, but he was right with one thing: It is one ordeal after another here XD

I knew that voice sounded familiar XD

Its been quite a while... but if I remember correctly... we did start out on a small island in Adventure too, didn't we?

He was already insane when we arrived here but I think now he completely lost it. This guy is a goner. There is no way in hell we can piece his sanity back together. He needs a psychic and some... strong drugs maybe.

Oh come on guys! I didn't want to save him! He is nuts! He will be a liability the freaking whole time! We are better off without him! Please, he is so annoying! (Gee, I have become quite the awful person, haven't I? I remember having a discussion with one of my friends, about Player In-game-morals once where she said that its natural to want to be nice, even in a game. But I kind of disagree. In real live, I respect even most insects and try not to accidentally step on them or something, but in games. I am pretty ruthless, to be honest ^^')

Ryo doesn't deserve saving, but we'll do it for you Kunemon, because you deserve that we help you and you've been helping us all the time too, despite your partner being an asshole to you. So... okay. We save Ryo for Kunemons sake!

We have quite a complicated mix of people in this team, huh? ^^'

OMG! Its so ugly ^^' Didn't we fight one of these back in the day? XD

SERIOUSLY? All that hard work for him falling down that damn bridge?

AH! Haru jumped after him! No! No, no, no! Not that poor boy! EDIT: He FELL too! But what does it matter! The boy tried to save Ryo and now this! He has been through too much for it to end like this!

I hope he at least hit his head hard enough to get some sense into it!

He just said he saved Ryo. But... what is with that attitude? Don't tell me my traitor-sensors have been misleading me yet again?

This is a kind of delusional that can hardly be explained just through trauma. This boy is just... I don't know, but certainly not normal. They tried to save and protect him so often now. It makes no sense whatsoever for him at this point to believe they wanted to kill him.

He is. Definitely and without no freaking doubt. He just revealed his mother is dead already, because she was sick. So he tried to fool himself that this is the afterlife so he can see his mommy again. Even the incident with the spider monster didn't get his head straight. He really is done fore.

#DS Mona Version

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zero-cycle · 2 years ago

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In death's eyes

They say beware the pale eyes.

In their worlds, pale means death. Pale is the colour of the thing that haunts their nightmares and ghost stories. Pale eyes appear in fairy tales and stories you tell little children to get them to behave. Pale is the colour of things not being quite right in the way that signals danger. Pale eyes haunt empty forests and quiet nights. Pale is the colour of the silent death that will appear behind you.

Pale is the colour of no return because once the player with the pale eyes is in your world, you will never be able to come back.

They say beware the pale eyes.

They do not know that they should fear all of them.

Grian’s eyes are normal. Really, there’s nothing more normal than his eyes. Just look at Scar, if you want an example of weird eyes. Or have you seen Mumbo’s silly mustache? Has anyone shown you Impulse’s latest shop building obsession by the way? You should really check it out, it’s as crazy as always. Did you hear he managed to become a revolutionary? Yeah, really, Impulse. It’s quite strange.

Grian’s eyes are normal and his wings are normal and everything about him is normal. He’s just a builder. He makes things and he’s bad at fighting (except sometimes) and his buildings are incredibly ordinary compared to Mumbo who makes living things out of blocks (except… sometimes). He’s fast and a good flier but it’s just practice and growing up with wings and he likes the colour purple (except he does not).

His eyes are normal.

Except when people threaten the server that gave him a home, gave him everything, they glow purple.

Grian does not like to talk about his powers. He wants to create silly things and not build the back of his castles and prank Mumbo until the other starts to chase him with end crystals again. But sometimes, the world does not let him and he will not let this life be destroyed again. He worked too hard for it.

People say pale white is the colour of death. For Grian it is the purple he glows with when he rips enemies apart as easy as Xisuma rewires a small bit of code.

Eret’s eyes are the colour of death. It tends to mislead people.

They know that the sunglasses are probably the only reason they’re still alive. People generally only have two reactions to their eyes: One of them is attacking and the other is screaming and the second one usually ends in everyone trying to kill them too. So they wear sunglasses all day every day and make sure to be extra helpful and share their building tricks and to never stay anywhere long enough so people can question.

Dream SMP is the exception. On Dream SMP, people have learned one crucial truth about Eret, the player with Herobrine’s eyes: It is not their eyes that are the death bringer.

Eret can do that well enough on their own.

L’Manberg bleeds for that discovery and Eret only feels a twinge of regret amidst the overwhelming feeling of triumph.

Scott was born with the bluest eyes any baby has ever had and he learned early to hide them. If you make blue your entire aesthetic, if you cover yourself in it and dye your hair to match and make sure to never ever appear weird, people just think you’re really committed to the bit.

And who are they to judge him for that?

They do not know of the way his eyes glow when he raises walls of ice around his kingdom to protect his people. They do not know how he shapes ice into weapons and the blue on him into armour. They do not know that they should not fear the slow death in the white of snow but instead the fury of turquoise power coming over them.

They will learn, in time, but it might be too late.

Feinberg meets Scott Smajor on the battlefield and they have the same shade of blue eyes.

Fein’s own eyes are cyan, normally, matching his jacket and helmet. But when he fights, he can feel the Universe reaching out and nudging and darkening the shades of power he can send out, the lightning crackling around his fists. When he meets Scott Smajor in the middle of a storm made of frozen crystals, their eyes are nearly the same shade and Fein has to spend a minute to wrangle back his control from his own surprise.

He has met people with strange eye colours before. He’s heard about how pale white is the colour of death.

He never thought he’d meet somebody who would prove that statement as wrong as he does.

Rad’s eyes are every colour in the world.

Sometimes they’re green, like the pine needles on the trees she’s spent hours running past, always in the hope that this run, she’ll be fast enough.

Sometimes they’re a pale pink, like concrete on village houses that she has torn apart more times than she can count.

Sometimes they’re red like the fire in the nether or orange like the lava burning her very soul.

Sometimes they’re pale yellow like the endstone crumbling to dust under her fingers as she gets ripped away for being too slow.

Sometimes they’re black as the void, as obsidian, as the dragon.

As the end of all things.

People say that pale is the colour of death.

Raddles knows that death does not have one colour.

Death is inevitable. Death is never the same. Death is running, again and again and again, hoping that one day you will be fast enough in a world where the goalposts are also running.

Illumina’s eyes are never remembered.

People remember the sword. People remember the black shape making seemingly impossible jumps. People remember the dragon exploding into a wave of purple and new numbers carving themselves into the bedrock of the end fountain. People remember the mask, the ender pearls, the blaze rods.

People do not remember Illumina’s eyes because the void stares back.

Illumina’s eyes are nothing in the sense that Raddles’ eyes are everything. Where life reflects in her eyes, absence reflects in Illumina’s because nothing is there. They are windows to the entire universe. Illumina knows, because Fruit has told him what he can see. He didn’t stop talking for an entire afternoon when he tried to list everything.

But when Illumina looks in the mirror, there is nothing to see because a mirror is not meant to look at itself.

Fruit’s eyes are incomprehensible.

Starlight is a funny thing. It has its own, firm opinions sometimes and one of them is that Fruit’s eyes should be its colour. So they are and nobody asked Fruit about it and quite frankly that was annoying because now half the people trying to look at him get sunburnt in the face.

He was only asking for things to make sense, so really, Universe sue him.

Fruit’s eyes are not what is deadly about him. He spent years making himself as deadly as possible, honing his skills in trapping and fighting and gauging potions as fast as possible. He can use a bow as well as a crossbow, a sword as well as an axe. He’s terrifically fast and he can kill you in more ways than you can greet him.

But still, all people remember are his eyes. Not pale, not the eyes of death, but full of light and joy and magic. The rest of him is stained with blood but his eyes precede his reputation and it’s so, so annoying.

They say beware the pale eyes. They do not say beware the blue eyes before lightning or ice rip you apart. They do not say beware the purple eyes since it marks watcher-born. They do not say beware the colours of everything, as you should never want too much or else you will be given more than you asked for.

They do not say beware the black eyes, for they are a mark of a vessel for something greater. They say beware the pale eyes and do not watch out for the knife in the back or the smile in the dark.

They say beware the pale eyes for they mean death. They don’t know that purple means despair, that blue means revenge, that void means inevitable and light means untouchable.

They say beware the pale eyes and they understand so frighteningly little.

#mcsr #hermitcraft #dsmp #grian #eret #scott smajor #feinberg #raddles #illumina1337 #fruitberries #worldbuilding moment #there's also a touch of herobrine in there #where would be the fun in mc worldbuilding if you did not mention herobrine #nare writes

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hobiwonder · 5 years ago

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mission impossible | (m)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, crack.

Warnings: Oral, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight degradation. dom/sub themes (jungkookie being a good boy and then... not so good lol)

Words: 9k+

Summary: When you find out that your groupmate is whoring it up on tinder instead of handing in his part of the project, you go on a mission to teach him a lesson. And maybe get him to finish his part.

A/N: hello!!!! thankyou all for waiting patiently. or maybe you’ve just forgotten about me lol. it’s been a while since i uploaded anything!!! I hope you enjoy this crack as much as I enjoyed writing fuckboy but still a movable baby!jungkook. please don't forget to tell me ur thoughts. feedback keeps me going :)

If it was something strange, it would happen to you. You were not just saying that because of the hint of narcissism in your personality that made you think that everything was about you. Oh no. You never seem to catch a break these days. And quite honestly, you should’ve expected your dose of absurd to be handed to you soon. It had been a week too long without any fatuous incidents and/or people happening to you. Was this just a y/n thing? Was every girl with your name cursed? Maybe it had something to do with your astrological sign. That always seemed to be the explanation of a lot of your friends who did not want to admit to their faults that would land them in hot water. The usual “oh it’s because i’m insert-star-sign”.

Were you really becoming that girl? Though it was hard to blame yourself for this one. Currently staring at your phone. More specifically, the defined abdominals of your group mate. A group mate who has not shown up to a single meeting. After a whole day of slaving away at your study desk, deleting and rewriting your discussion and evidential analysis to conclude whether or not it was a plausible inference that the movies, Whiplash and Black Swan were excellent cinematic representations of the ‘Obsessed Performer.’

Yeah. That was a mouthful. And you bet your right ass cheek that you were the only one out of yourself and Jungkook who had even watched the said movies. In the group of four, Jungkook and yourself were given the discussion and conclusion to write. The three of you who had been present at the initial group meeting had chosen your parts as was decided in the group chat prior. When all of you had received a text from Jungkook cancelling last minute, you’d snagged the conclusion as well as half of the discussion to write as just the conclusion would be a little too easy. And you had wrongfully assumed that your peer had been in some sort of ‘emergency’ since he always sounded like he was in a hurry to do something incredibly important.

You’d pitied the seemingly sweet looking boy and told him that you’ll work together on the last two sections of the paper. And his bastard self had always been all smile emojis and ‘yes :)’ and just all around misleading. Sounding like he was diligently working on his part by himself and definitely will turn everything into you by Thursday. Thursday was yesterday and you had not received even a single message from Jungkook about where he was in terms of progress on the 1000 words he needed to write. Message after message, you weren’t even being left on read. And in concern you had messaged your group chat that maybe he was facing some real life crisis to be so MIA. Until this.

Until you had picked up your phone about half an hour ago to mindlessly scroll through your instagram feed and then in the last 10 minutes had decided to also go on to tinder just to humour yourself. You were well aware that tinder was a cesspit of weird and unhinged men who would only be a good enough to make a youtube video about or a horror story texted to your best friend. You were speaking from experience. Decent men on tinder was like finding a luxury vintage dress in half good condition at a thrift store.

So when you’d swiped left for the 30th time - you’d finally come across the perfect face of someone very familiar. You’d almost swiped left on reflex before you’d brought the phone almost too close to see why the face looked so recognisable. Even without having actually ever met Jungkook face to face - apart from that first lecture - it was hard to miss that this definitely was him. Your mouth had fallen open, jaw just shy of touching your soft bedsheets. You’d found Jeon Jungkook on tinder. His perfectly coy smile staring right at you, the first few buttons of his black shirt open wide to capture your attention back to his smooth, muscular chest. Hastily dialling Momo’s number, you can barely contain your shock and anger and annoyance. All of it wrapped up in one powerful burst of dialogue that you subject Momo’s ears too.

“Bitch!!!” You can’t help screeching, mind boggled.

“What happened now? Jungkook finally reply to you?”

“No oh my god. I found his tinder. I found his tinder Mo. I found his tinder!” You were screaming again but you couldn’t help it.

You were missing a Jeon Jungkook to rightfully scream at so poor Mom was bearing the brunt of your anger and maniacal laughter because your brain was having a hard time believing your luck.

“Wait, seriously? Did you match him?” Oh wait. Of course. There was still another step.

Wordlessly you swipe right, hard skipping a few beats in anticipation. And when the screen shows that he swiped you right as well and that you could now message him, you’re laughing once more.

“So he did. Wow. What a piece of shit.” She’s also laughing albiet much more like a normal human being.

“I cannot believe this Mo. This fuckhead doesn’t read any of my messages for the last week and I find him matched to me on tinder?”

Just then, your phone vibrates. Telling Mo to hold on, you don’t want to believe that this is actually happening. You had just received a message from Jungkook. It had barely been a whole minute of you matching up with him on this app and he had already messaged you.

Jungkook: What has 36 teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

This must be a bad dream. Were the cameras of Punk going to start showing up form under your bed? Were you being punked? Not only was Jeon Jungkook just the worst partner out of all the group projects you had been in, he was most definitely a fuckboy. Who used terrible pick-up lines. Did he really not recognise you? Granted that your pictures were not the ones you had put up on facebook - it was still quite discernible that this was definitely you.

“Mo, he just sent me a horny pick-up line oh my god. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course he did. I always thought he was a bit of a player. What did he say?”

When you read out the message, both of you are coughing from the laughter. This was too ridiculous and just very much like something that would happen to you. You had a group project due in less than two days and your group mate had turned out to be a bit of a horny bastard that was more concerned with getting his dick wet than messaging you back.

“You need to message him back, y/n. Pour the cold water on him already and tell him how badly he fucked up.”

“No way! I bet you he’s going to never message me back. At least on tinder i’m going to get a reply. Just how the hell do I ask him about the paper that he should’ve emailed me, like, yesterday? Ugh.”

“Just message him back, firstly. Or lose the only communication you just got. Do you know what dorm he’s in?”

“No idea.” Typing your reply and deleting it - much like your assessment that you were working hard on. Unlike him.

You: Hulk always was my favourite Avenger :)

“You did not just say that! Grossssss.” Yeah. Humouring fuckboys was exclusively for post 6 tequila shots Y/n.

Chuckling at your own response, you’re trying to keep your cool while trying to keep Jungkook’s attention so he doesn’t stop messaging you.

“Mo, wait. I just had an idea.”

“Please, y/n, violence is not the answer.”

“I won’t hurt him you knob. Okay talk to you later!” Not a lot anyway.

“I’m telling the police I don’t know you if they come around tomorrow! Bye!”

Making a face at your phone for good measure - you go ahead with your plan. There was no way you were letting Jeon Jungkook get away that easily. You’d been working so hard this semester. Harder than you have ever tried and you would not let his sloppy self to bring down your grade on an assessment that was worth 40% of your grade. Nearly half. Neither did the people in your group deserved it.

“Just you wait, Jeon. I’m going to kick your horny ass.”

Jungkook: let my Hulk destroy any traces of bad fucks you’ve had.

Your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at his brashness. Did he really just ask you to fuck? This is the second thing he has said to you and it’s him asking to fuck you. You can’t believe how much of a textbook fuckboy he was. When you haven’t responded for a few minutes, you get another message form him.

Jungkook: if that was too forward ^-^

Jungkook: then what i said was a lie lol.

Jungkook: I'm probably the best fuck you’ll ever have.

You cannot believe your eyes. With each message, Jungkook is either confusing you or making you shake your head at how exactly like all the other boys on tinder he is. This was hands down, the longest conversation you have had with Jungkook directly. In the group chat he generally adressed everyone, shooting haphazard apologies right before meetings. Saying he would not be able to make it. It had frustrated you to no end as the date for submission got closer and closer. And to see him reply quicker than you, on tinder no less, was beyond infuriating.

You: Well then. Prove it.

You: Where do you live?

You doubted that Jungkook would be reluctant to give you his address. That’s just not something you see happening. Maybe he preferred to go to the girl’s place? That wouldn’t matter to you either. Though convincing him to bring his laptop with him would be a challenge but you were fine to let him work on your own. There was no way you were letting him go without coughing up his part.

Jungkook: you sure?

You: wanna fuck. Hurry up.

Jungkook: you’re so sexy :)

You were going to literally lose it. Not sure why you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard to stop yourself from laughing at his messages. Jungkook was the epitome of a snapchat fuckboy. It was much more hilarious than you anticipated. You were expecting to be feeling the singular emotion of sheer hostility. But you were having too much fun with this. Especially when you weren’t going to actually fuck him but seeing how eager and self-assured he was, this was all the more pleasant.

Jungkook texts you his address and you let him know that you’ll be there in around 20 minutes. He lived surprisingly close. Though him staying in an all male rich residential college was definitely not a surprise. Only kids with a lot of disposable income and no worries of being evicted avoided doing any actual school work. The rest of you were not privy to such luxury. The more you thought about it the more you knew how gratifying it will be to show up at Jeon Jungkook’s door with a pile of notes and your laptop. He was in for a treat.

Dressing in that one little black dress you had was only part of the plan. An attempt to fool him one last time before you handed him the checklist of what he had to do. You shrug on a large jean jacket that fell below your bottom to conceal your provocative dress, grab your bag after stuffing all the necessities and then set out the door. Dialling Momo’s number, you let her know where you will be incase anything happens. You could never be too careful.

“Yo, I’m going to Cornell college. Jungkook apparently lives there so I’m going to meet him.”

“Are you serious? He told you his address?!”

“Sure did.”

“I pray for his soul.”

“He made me suffer far longer! Whose side are you on, traitor?!”

“Yours but knowing you, he’s in for a LOT. Okay stay safe.”

“Yeah yeah. He needs to be safe not me.”

“Yeah that was what I was saying. Anywhore. have fun.”

“Bye.”

The closer you get to the college, you are starting to hear loud music. Was this even allowed on colleges? Were there not any volume restrictions given what time it was and the fact that it was managed by onsite staff? Arriving on the level Jungkook told you his room was, 4th, the music is even more noticeable. The sign pointing to the common room was where most of the bass was coming from and you guess maybe there is a function going on. Though the closer you walk, you realise that this was not just any event. This was a party. The cracks in the door gave away to the activities happening inside the large hall. Deciding not to wait any longer, you text Jungkook again. Being as serious as you can be to get him to meet you outside instead of carrying your backpack with you inside.

You: I’m here to fuck, not party.

Jungkook: it’s a good party tho. We can slowly take it back to my room ;)

You: I’ll find someone else.

You hope he takes your bluff.

Jungkook: love it when you order me around baby.

Jungkook: don’t forget who’s in charge. Me.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, still smirking at your phone. No matter what your initial intentions were, you had to admit that playing with Jungkook was fun. He was unacceptably attractive and looked like the type of guy you would reduce to tears. But none of that tonight. You had to stay focused. You’re about to type another message to speed him up but he beats you to it.

Jungkook: room is unlocked. go in. i’ll be there in a minute.

Letting out a whoosh of air you’d been holding, you head down the hall, further away from the heavy bass and the party music. Somewhat hesitantly, you open the door to the room number he gave you. Nothing out of the ordinary. His room wasn’t messy. It was tidy. No sign of books. Just a bunch of sketches and film negatives strewn about on his study desk. Shamelessly, you snoop around, trying to find any evidence that he studies at all. So far, you’d only found an industry grade recording mic, two different types of cameras and some more unused camera reel.

Getting out your notes and the checklist you were going to hand to Jungkook, you get everything ready for when Jungkook arrives. You were not going to let him get away with this. Just another minute later, you can hear the footsteps getting closer. And for a moment, so does your heartbeat. You were quite confident in yourself but there was always a chance that Jungkook was more than a harmless oversexed college boy. All of the very rational fears are thrown out the window, however, as soon as the black mop of hair comes into view. Jungkook was incredibly handsome. Even moreso than his pictures. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him months ago. The long strands of inky black hair fell endearingly in his face, just to the middle of his eyes, parted right in the middle and curling slightly. He wore a long sleeved shirt with hip-hugging jeans that almost made you drool visibly. The saliva was positively pooling in your mouth but you swallowed it quickly to avoid embarrassment.

Now, you were angry. You really were. You needed this assessment finished so you could start on other projects and without Jungkook finishing up his part, there was no way you would have finished yours on time. But you would be a bold faced liar if you didn’t admit that you were oh so tempted to abandon your vendetta and not ride him like a bronco. You could tell that unfortunately, unlike other men who strutted about with empty words - Jungkook would be the best you would have in a while.

And when he smiles, it’s not any easier.

“Hey you.”

“Hi.” Desperately trying to keep your voice even, you smile coyly.

Jungkook locks the door, running a hand through his hair before he stalks towards you. Confident as ever. You bite your lip, baiting him even further before you strike. Just when he gets close enough to you, you hold out an arm to keep him from touching you.

“God, you’re even more sexy in person.”

“Uh-uh, be patient.” He’s blissfully unaware, just smirking in return as he watches your hands roam his chest before going up to his face. Taking a step closer to him, you rake your nails up his neck, leaving little white lines from the scratches.

“Close your eyes, Jungkook.” Jungkook, ever the obedient boy, closes them quickly. Awaiting your next move.

You can’t help yourself when he looks like this. Completely immersed in the feel of your hands. He was a good few inches taller than you but your platformed sneakers made it easier for you to teach him a lesson. His dark eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, face so relaxed you would think he’s sleeping. You deserved to play a little at least, right? Leaning forward, you stop with the internal rationalising and just make the move.

Your lips meet his in a fiery kiss. His stoic figure melting as soon as your lips lock, hands grabbing at your waist while his tongue grazes your bottom lip. Jungkook is moaning in the kiss like he’s taking his first gulp of water after roaming the desserts. Momentarily, you forget your purpose for even being here in the first place. Wrapping your hands in his tempting long tresses and pulling, making even more sweeter noises to spill past his lips. He’s panting and restless. Moving his body against yours like he’ll die without it. Moving him backwards, you push him agains his swivelling study chair that was conveniently faced the right way.

His hands are all over you as soon as he’s down on the chair with your legs straddling his thighs on either side. All you can feel are his lips and his tongue and his hands. All over you, sliding your jacket off your shoulders to travel his kisses down another path. The desperate intake of oxygen is enough to bring your head back in the game, barely. With Jungkook nipping away at the now exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, it’s hard for you to stay focused. Especially when the hard tent in those sinfully tight jeans is now pushing against your softest part. He’s impossibly hard and you’re impossibly soft down there. It’s a lethal combination because neither of you can live without the other being pressed against each other. When you push down on him he pushes his hips up with even more ferocity, moaning louder with every illicit rub of the thickness between his thighs.

You’re addicted to the feeling and not sure how you’ll centre yourself enough to do what you actually came to do. God was really making you eat your words, huh? You were so close to ripping all his clothes off and fucking his brains out. You bet he’ll make the prettiest sounds when you ride him. His whimpers and moans just from gyrating up against you were enough of an indication. Sliding your hands back up in his hair, you yank it back from your neck to see his sweaty, glistening face looking up at you. He looked slightly inebriated. You had tasted the traces of vodka in his kiss but you had a feeling that a lot of his current state had to do with you and not the liquor.

“Jungkook?” He shamelessly rut his hips against yours, not fully hearing you, lost in his own lusty haze.

“Yeah?” Your lips close around the soft cartilage of his earlobe, tugging and flicking with your tongue, illiciting more salacious noises out of him.

“How’s the assignment coming along?” It takes him a few seconds to respond but the urgency with which he was pawing at you has slowed to a halt like a broken down car.

“Huh?” Pulling back completely, you stare him right in his twinkly eyes that look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“The paper you’re writing on modern cinema?”

“How... how do you know about that?” You smile at him sweetly. Before you flick him across his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“I should be saying that you harlot!”

“Harlot? really? You were all over me just now. You are all over me!” You’re surprised he knows the meaning of the medieval insult.

“Don’t try and weasel out of this! I’ve been waiting for your finished part since yesterday!”

“Wait... you’re y/n, y/n?”

“Took you long enough.”

“With your tongue down my throat? I wonder why.” You cannot believe you are arguing with a boy whilst still in his lap with his hands holding on to your waist.

Jungkook is trying his hardest to deflect and make you seem like the desperate one when he had been the one to want to fuck you from the get go. Getting off his lap, you fix your dress, tugging it down a little since the assault from Jungkook had almost bared your ass. Jungkook is still sitting in his study chair, dumbfounded.

“Finish your part of the discussion Jungkook. I have to write the conclusion and submit the paper.”

He is still staring. And now your eyes are travelling down to his thighs. Particularly the large bulge a little further up. A very substantial bulge that makes your mouth water once more.

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry, what? I just had a dream that a crazy girl tried to get me to do my homework right before we were going to fuck.”

“Listen here you little shit,” You grab Jungkook’s chin, gently despite his theatrical reactions, tilting it up to look you in the eyes. His reactions are so comical you almost laugh. “I’ve worked too hard for you to just give me piss poor, last minute effort. I’m here until you finish it.”

“You cannot be serious.” Letting go of his chin, you step back, folding your arms against your chest for good measure. Raising an eyebrow for him to challenge you.

“You expect me to write a thousand something words with this,” He points between his legs, you roll your eyes, “still here? No way.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?” So pretty. But he didn’t need to know that. You swivel his chair around back to face his desk.

“Less talk and more work!”

“Y/n, you can’t- can’t make me!” He’s throwing his hands around like a child and it’s a little too cute for an annoying boy like him who’s put you through so much anxiety. Sitting on his bed, swinging your legs as your eyes look around at the paintings, you let him huff and puff.

“Oh yeah? Guess I’ll have to call the cops because of the weed you have.”

His nose scrunches up adorably. “I don’t have any weed.”

“But I do. Who will they believe?” His eyes widen once more as he realises what you’re saying.

“Are you seriously blackmailing me?” You nod, smiling brightly. Jungkook turns back around, head in his hands as he mutters to himself how his tinder hookups are always crazy.

“Hey! I wouldn’t be here if you did your work! or replied to any of my messages.”

“Um, I was going too? I was busy.”

“Taking vodka shots? Yeah I could tell.” The mention of the kiss is bringing a rosy flush to Jungkook’s cheeks. Such an uncharacteristic reaction for a guy with his looks and his confidence.

He was that much more appealing to you because of how he contradicted his own personality. You knew he was one of those boys who acted all tough but secretly wanted to be bossed around. Told to do this and that. Made uncomfortable and maybe slightly humiliated. They lived to please. And the way Jungkook had melted into your body almost as if asking for guidance earlier, you knew he was exactly like that. He may not even know it yet but you could have him in the palm of your hands in a matter of minutes.

“What do I get in return?” He’s still grunting his disapproval, but looking through the notes you put on his desk anyway.

“A good grade and a life longer than 22?”

“You’re crazy.”

“All the more reason for you to be quiet and work!” He pouts at you before quietly looking through the notes and logging into his laptop.

When you’re satisfied he’s actually working, you lay down on his bed, making yourself comfortable knowing that it will take him at least an hour to finish his part. You had practically handed him all the points, he just had to write his own opinion and synthesise the evidence you had collected. The part of discussion required each student in the group’s own thoughts and thus you couldn’t just make them up on Jungkook’s behalf. Nor did you want to. You were done doing two people’s work back in your freshman year. These were advanced level classes and you weren’t going to ruin your grade because of one person.

Thirty minutes later, you’re almost about to doze off when you see Jungkook getting up from his chair in your periphery. Sitting up in a flash - though a little dizzy - you point an accusatory finger at Jungkook. Said boy has stopped mid-standing up.

“Don’t you dare Jeon! Get back in that chair and finish your work.”

“Jesus.” He’s holding his head in his hands once more before he starts whining again. “Y/n, please. Can’t I just do this tomorrow and send it to you then?”

You think about it. You do. “And have you go off the face of the planet again? No way.”

“Please.” He drags out the syllables, pouting and blinking up at you and it almost works.

“No. Not a chance. Just finish it ASAP and I’ll edit it. But finish writing it. The sooner you’re done the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.”

He glares at you. And not the scary, tough man glare that might make you slightly nervous and fidgety that you’re getting on his nerves. It’s a glare a kid gives you when you tell them no more TV or no more xbox. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen Jungkook do tonight. Or maybe you’re just sleep deprived. Either way, you wanted to kiss the hell out of him. But you turn your head away, faux annoyance ebbed into your features as you wait for him to start writing again.

It works for another half hour, Jungkook now actually typing more than he’s complaining. It was only a thousand words that he had to write but there was a lot of information that needed to be condensed in those thousand words which meant he was typing and then deleting, repeating the process again and again until he looked to be halfway through. You were impressed at how much he was getting done. Maybe it was your watchful gaze that was making him perform at his peak. You were now just hoping that whatever he wrote was actually plausible and not just rubbish to get you out of his room.

“I can’t believe you’re making me work with a boner. You could’ve at least gotten me off.” His pout his still there as he types casually.

“Stop being a brat and keep working.”

“Yeah? You’re going to make me write lines? ‘I am a brat’.” He chuckles to himself like he’s burnt you to a crisp with that one comment.

Taking your hand off of your face, you sit up. You watch the way his biceps bulge under his shirt as he types away at his laptop, legs splayed wide under his desk as he supported a semi. It was still a sizeable dent but nowhere near as daunting looking as before. But none of that diminishes your desire for him. You watch him talk to himself quietly as he types, but now stuck somewhere as he types and deletes and then types a sentence again.

You’re not sure what sets it off. Maybe it’s your frustration or that you think he owes you something more than just this. Maybe it’s the way he’s sitting? There are a lot of reasons you can use to justify your serious and formidable attraction to him. But you cannot deny that it was him from the get go. Just him in all his submissive glory that made you attracted to him. And that attraction was now getting the best of you. Maybe it was time to torture him in another way.

“No. I’ll do something much more to your liking.”

His head turns back around fast, fingers halting at his keyboard while he inspects the drunken look in your eyes. Slowly, you spread your legs, hands bracing yourself as they clutch the sheets on either side of you. Your heart is racing at the look in his own eyes. Primal and needy.

“Get on your knees Jungkook.” His chest is rising and falling much quicker than yours. Like he’s holding himself back.

You patiently wait for him to listen to your instructions, watching him. Never breaking eye contact. You know it’s new to him. It’s too obvious for you to deny it. But you relish the look of surprise every time you say something he doesn’t expect. Slowly, get’s up from his chair. Never taking a step further as he drops to his knees, crawling forwards until he’s right infant of you. The room is not that big at all so it doesn’t take him long. Now, his wide, doe eyes look at you. Inquisitive and aroused and it turns you on even more. He’s all man with hard ridges and bulging muscles but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you feel like at the centre of his world.

“Are... are you going to- to make me eat your pussy?” the explicit question sends your nerve endings on fire.

You’re a second away from grabbing his hair and shoving him right between your legs but the way his soft mouth says the dirty words - it makes you feel a very different kind of way. Now it’s you who can’t stop staring at him. Thinking about what else he has up his sleeves. You expected him to be vocal but never this. He is bold and shy all at the same time.

“Would you like that, Jungkook?” His eyes drop between your legs again, watching the way your panties cling to your increasingly wet folds.

Jungkook is moving between your legs more, eagerly nodding so the strands of his fringe rustle up and down in his face. His arms are going under your thighs, gropping them for good measure before he looks up at you with those eyes again.

“Please.” He’s almost whispering, longing lacing his every word. “Please, y/n. Please let me taste you. ‘wanna taste you.”

His words have turned into pleas and the pleas turn into kisses alongside your inner thighs and then any place Jungkook can get his lips and tongue on. Everything else is forgotten. It’s just you laying on his bed while Jungkook tries to get a taste of you anyway he can. His lips travel up to your covered mound, never daring to move the piece of fabric holding him back from his destination. Opting to only kiss over it, lick his way up your clit through the thin cotton that’s now moulding to your swollen folds.

“Do- do you deserve it, Jungkook? For putting me through so much h-headache? Oh.” Your moans accompany almost every word. Fingers laced into Jungkook’s luscious hair as he continues his hurried tasting of your arousal.

His response is mumbled between your legs. You watch his veiny hands repeatedly grab at the flesh of your thighs. Kneading it desperately like he’s trying to distract himself from doing something else entirely. A yelp leaves his mouth at your tug on his hair. Pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looks like an addict when he is looking at you like you’re giving him his fix and God, you want to kiss his swollen lips.

“Answer me, brat. Do you deserve anything from me?”

“N-No.”

“Right. Yet you’re still begging to taste me like the needy little slut you are. Hm?”

Jungkook is whimpering, his lids fluttering. He doesn’t expect the smack across his face, a little too hard for what you had originally aimed for. The surprise is evident and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to be upset. Instead, his breathing is picking up even further.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

“Y-Yes... Noona.” The breath is almost sucked out of you at his timid tone. And it only makes you want to push him further.

“Good boy.” His eyes are lighting up at the praise like hundreds of little galaxies called them home.

Sliding down towards the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang off, letting your toes touch the floor. Jungkook is still on his knees, watching you manoeuvre yourself around his bed before you reach for the hem of your dress. Watching his every facial expression as you strip. He looks up at you wide-eyed, taking in your soaked underwear and the thin black bra where your nipples pointed right at him. You can see his hands twitch by his side. You’d pushed them off you when you’d changed your position and were surprised at how calm and obedient Jungkook was being. Contrast to how much of an argumentative brat he was. But you had a sneaking feeling that he liked it when you called him that.

You were trying to remain calm yourself. Not give too much away on the dilemma you held inside your head. Thinking if you should take this any further. Though it was a little too late now, you guess. You were practically naked, wetter than ever before as Jungkook watched you with his wide doe eyes. Hunger evident with every flit of his gaze. You would feel cruel if you stopped at this point. So you let the rational part of your brain take a backseat and letting the consequences of tonight berate you in the morning after. Sliding your palms down your stomach, straight inside your soaked panties, you stroke yourself ever so slowly. Holding his heated gaze with cloudy eyes.

“Noona...” It sends another jolt of arousal throughout your already overheated body. He’s biting his plump bottom lip, sliding his hand up and down carelessly on to his erection that had grown considerably in the past fifteen minutes. Jungkook looks like the embodiment of desperation and it makes you rub yourself a little faster. Every time your fingers come in contact with your sensitised clit, you bite the urge to buck your hips brazenly.

“Yeah, baby? You want to see?” You hold out your wet fingers to him and in a flash, you feel his warm mouth around your digits. He moans loudly like he’s been relieved after years of drought.

“M-More. Please, Noona. I’ll do anything please, please.” Now that didn’t take long. Chuckling at his agonised face, you throw your head back, enjoying the relief your own fingers brought.

But you were torturing yourself too at this point. You wanted to replace your small fingers with Jungkook’s bigger and more vascular hands. You remember the view of his body from the glorified hookup app. Knew what he was hiding under the baggy shirt. The sweet whimpers and ‘please’ sounds coming from him were a delicacy on their own.

“Take my panties off then. With your mouth. Don’t use your hands... or else.” Your tone is stern enough to give you that satisfying flash going through his eyes.

In seconds, he’s leaning forward on his hands and knees, eyes never leaving yours as he bites the cotton on your hips, dragging it down. The act itself is a little clumsy. In his haste, Jungkook is taking twice as long should he use his hands. But something about his complete compliance, his willingness to be accepted by you and his utter devotion to pleasing you is the ultimately your undoing. This may be a power trip but you were thoroughly getting ruined during it.

At last, the cotton has reached your ankles. Quickly, you shrug off your dress as well, completely naked. He’s placed small kisses in greetings before he takes them off completely. Out of breath and out of his mind. The glazed look has taken a permanent vacation in his eyes and you were getting high on it. Jungkook was a communicator. If it wasn’t his mouth relaying the naughty words to you then his eyes were holding yours hostage, smouldering.

Bracing your hands behind yourself and never breaking away from his eyes, your ankles part. Jungkook’s eyes are automatically falling on the mess between your legs but he doesn’t dare move. Awaiting your instructions. Jerking your chin towards his general direction, you silently bring his attention back to his overly dressed self.

“Lose the pants.” His hands make fast work of his jeans. Falling back on to the ground to push them off.

“Uh-uh. Keep them on.” His eyes widen at your command to keep the underwear on. You weren’t about to just let him have it.

Not yet.

“Noona...” The high pitched noise of protest only makes your nostrils flare. You wanted to live out your every dirty fantasy with him if he sounded this sweet with just watching. The desire was making your head spin and your palms sweat.

“Yeah?”

“Please... I’ll do anything.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he kneels infant of you.

“I’ll eat you out for hours, let you sit on me face until I can’t breathe. Let you ride my tongue until you can’t cum anymore. Just please... fuck me.” The last two words leave him in such agony that for a second it truly sounds like he’s in pain.

Which is ridiculous given the ted talk he just gave on the Perfect Words To Say to Ruin Y/N and Her Panties. You’re the one currently in pain from clenching your jaw so tight. Resolve like a skinny rubber band about to snap. Dirty talk was the chink in your armour. And by the way Jungkook’s face lit up and his words became a lot more sure and confident, you knew that he was weaponising his skill to control you fully. And you needed to put him in his place before you gave up your pride and rode him until you ran out of stamina or died from your body overheating. Whichever happened first.

“Get up.”

“Fuck yes-“ Jungkook’s blubbering about how you’re the hottest person he’s ever seen and that he knows he can blow your mind while you push him back on the bed and straddle his meaty thighs. When he begins to push down your panties, you push his hands off and rest them on his sides.

“Keep them there or you won’t be coming. Understood?”

His curls bounce around his face as he nods, chest heaving when he looks at your hips move over the biggest bulge you’ve felt under you. You would’ve thought that he’d stuffed his underwear with socks if you couldn’t feel the burning heat his cock was pressing in to you, even through his boxers. Each roll of your hips pressed him to your every crevice like two puzzle pieces fitting in to complete the picture.

“Oh fuck-... You feel so good noona. I-I’m going to cum if you keep going.” He’s resorted to use his hands at his sides to push him upwards, pressing himself with every gyrate of your hips downward on him.

“Yeah? you’re gunna cum from just this? Is noona making you feel really good?”

Jungkook is lost in soaking up every sensation like a drunkard. Gaze not leaving where your hips met. Furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration as he thrust his hips up, rocking you off balance slightly. Your hands slide into his sweaty curls, pulling them hard enough to yank his beautiful face up and close to your own.

“Answer me what I ask you a question.” And he whines. Or moans. Nevertheless it’s a lethal mixture of the two and you’re about to kiss him senseless.

“Yes. I-I feel really good. Noona is- oh fuck- g-gunna make me cum.”

“And are you going to?” He looks up at you nervously, trying to speaking amidst every roll of your flaming core onto his dick. It was getting harder and harder for you to speak as well.

“N-No?”

“Good. Because only good boys get to cum. Not needy sluts like you.”

Now Jungkook whimpers like a wounded animal. Because you’ve upped the ante. Holding onto his shoulders while you grind down on his throbbing cock just the right angle so your clit is receiving the mind-numbingly pleasurable stimulation. You were going to cum any minute and it looked as if he was too.

“F-Fuck. I’m going to cum Jungkook. Your cock feels so good.”

“Noona please. Please s-stop. I-I’m going to cum-“

“That’s not my fucking problem. If you want me to fuck you then you better not. Understood?”

He looks utterly panicked. Torn between letting himself go to the unbelievable pleasure of this act alone and wanting to hold back and obey your every command. Jungkook’s lip is bitten red, chest heaving and eyes watering as he watches the erotic sight of your brazen bouncing on his lap. You’re putting on a show just to make it that much more difficult for him to hold back. But he somehow does. Watching your face contort with pleasure as your head is thrown back. Your moans are loud and lewd. Designed just to rile him up to the point of breaking.

“Oh god. I’m- I’m gunna cum baby.” With a shout, you’re riding out wave after wave of the liquid pleasure running through your veins like molten gold.

It takes a solid minute for your eyes to focus on a singular object. Or a person. More specifically, an incredibly handsome, glistening, starry eyed, muscular, put-micheal-angelo’s-david-to-shame, strikingly adorable man. Jungkook looked on the verge of losing his sanity. Yet, he didn’t stop watching you collect yourself, flicking the stray strands over your shoulder before you pressed your mouth to his.

You brought your mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. When your lips met, you heard him make a tiny sound. His body went rigid, and he wasn’t reciprocating. You think it might have been down to shock, though, because when your tongue slid past the seam of his lips, he opened them willingly and trembled against you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, and he pulls you closer. You were on fire, felt like you were melting into him. Never before had a single kiss gotten you so worked up. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries. Jungkook rocked forward, and then you felt his tongue move expertly against yours. Of its own accord, a groan emanated from deep in your chest. When he brought his hands to your neck and massaged your throat, you whimper. He was hard as a rock and you finally wanted to reward him for holding out this long.

He’s chasing your lips when you break away, sliding his kisses down your neck as if breaking the contact will be fatal for him. “You did so good baby. Such a good boy.”

The praise seems to rejuvenate his body. Not that he needed to. He was bursting at the seems with testosterone. The longer he went on without a release, the more unhinged Jungkook seemed. The incongruence of his raw masculinity with his alarmingly meek behaviour towards you was something you didn’t understand but it affected you the most. He surprised you with every move and you wanted nothing more than to own him completely.

Jungkook makes a noise in his throat at the praise, sliding his hands down to caress the globes of your ass. “I’ve been a good boy. Now fuck me.”

His words are steady, deliberate and to the point. Scratch everything you said about Jungkook being meek. They send shudders down your spine where his hands reside. This was a man who looked on the verge of tearing something apart. And judging from the current situation, he was going to be tearing you apart. You’d let him, gladly. But being the cocktease you are- you push him even more.

“And if I don’t, little boy? Gunna beg?” A heartbeat later, you’re the one on the soft mattress and it’s Jungkook that’s hovering over you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Then I’ll fuck you noona.”

You’re not too mad because you’re wetter than before and the change in his demeanour has you besides yourself with the need to feel him inside. Jungkook’s teeth are tugging on your hardened nipples. Circling them with his tongue before sucking the puffy buds tenderly. The pressure of his suction is so delicious that you might just cum from this.

“God! Jungkook, b-baby please. Fuck your noona.” He grins around a nipple, hands sliding inside your soaked core.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should make you wait like you made me. Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat. I’ll stuff your mouth next time with a sock Jeon J- oh fuck!”

He’d slid down your body, his kissing every inch. Your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs.

“I’d rather it be your pussy.” He whispered, bringing his mouth to your wetness, and then licked.

“Ahhh,” you cried out, clutching a handful of his hair. Jungkook chuckled and went at you in earnest. You were so soft and silky beneath his tongue. He met your gaze from below and came up for air. Jungkook watched you for a second before dipping his wet mouth lower again. The noises of your arousal pornographic. He saw you fist the sheets in your hands, your hips rising up off the bed when he sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. He added some fingers to the equation, savoring the hot, tight feel of you.

“Please,” you murmured. “More.”

So he gave you more. He gave you everything. Before he knew it, you were touching your breasts, pinching your nipples as he devoured you, and you swear you could have come from the sight of Jungkook between your legs alone. he was simply glorious. Your voice was starting to get hoarse. Getting close to the edge before Jungkook ripped his mouth away.

“No! Jungkook, please.” You’re frustrated and angry and horny that he would do that. Even if you did the same thing to him.

He was testing you once again but the raw need in his eyes told you that you were testing him too.

“I’ll fuck you now noona. Nice and good. You want this cock right?” He’s holding his straining erection heavily, sliding down his boxers to discard them besides his bed.

You moan out your answer, opening your legs wide in invitation.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking. His eyes twinkling with a cheeky grin on his face. You almost get up to kiss him because he looked so fucking adorable and hot and sexy at the same time.

Thankfully - or not? - he’s pulling you to the edge of the bed and in seconds, he has pulled you close to his chest. He circles the engorged head of him in your slit before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust. The sheer girth of him has you yelping, needing to adjust to the length of him as well. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you the courtesy of that.

His legs are spread in a powerful stance as his hands grip your legs from behind the knees. And then he’s thrusting. He’s fucking into you so deep, you can feel him in your throat. You must look like a fish at this very moment with your mouth opening and closing without any real sound. He feels hot and thick, like molten lava in your veins. you’re finally finding your voice when angles his hips slightly to the left - biting a spot that has you blinking up at the ceiling full of stars.

“Jungkook! Oh god. Oh f-fuck. You’re so good baby. S-So good.”

“Yeah? You like how deep I am in your pussy? Answer me noona.” He’s quickening his pace, snapping his hips punishingly making you release a guttural scream.

“I love it. So much.”

You watch the sweat drip off his forehead, the dimples in his cheek now very prominent as his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth. He’s a sight you want to imprint on the back of your eyelids. You can see his lose his resolve, the creases in his forehead slowly deepening as the pleasure becomes too much for him.

“God you feel so wet and tight n-noona. You look so hot when you cum. I w-wanna make you squirt.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head at his admissions. It seems like he’s lost all his filter, chasing the mind numbing pleasure he felt earlier. His words are bringing you even closer to the edge and your throat now begs for relief when you let out another yell as he pushes you up the bed while still fully seated inside you.

“I’m gunna cum noona. I j-just need to... to- I don’t. I don’t wanna h-hurt you-“ His sweet face is contorted with worry, still thrusting steadily. You finally understand his point after a few seconds. Taking you twice as long to comprehend anything with the plethora of feelings your body was feeling right now.

Cupping his face, you told yours upwards to place a small kiss on his wet lips. “It’s okay baby. You won’t break me. Just let go.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy and he stares in yours for a moment too long because your heart is doing summersaults, heading straight for your mouth. Too much emotion crammed into his big eyes and you just wanted to strangely hug him close to your chest. This day has been strange enough - so you do. You Pull Jungkook close to you. His face tucks itself in the crevice of your neck, whining and moaning. His breath tickles and sends shivers down your spine. And then he circles his hips against yours.

From the hard and deep fucking, Jungkook circles his hips into yours. Slowly at first, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in just the right way before he speeds up. His hands find their way down your back again, pushing your hips up into his own, making your centres feel everything. You can feel him in every fold of your core and it’s all too much.

“Oh god.” Your hands scratching down his back, head tilted back, legs closing around his waist tightly.

“That’s it noona. Cum for me. Please, please. ‘Wanna feel you around my cock. ‘Wanna feel y-your cunt devour me. Cum.”

You scream so loud that you can hear a ringing in your ears. Vision flashing white as the indescribable pleasure starts in the pit of your stomach and coarse through your limbs all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. It’s all consuming and breathtaking. Unexpected.

“I-I can’t hold it anymore. Can I-“ You’re unable to speak.

Still reeling from your orgasm, twitching from the sensitivity, but you nod anyway. You wanted Jungkook to let go inside of you. Wanted to give him the same pleasure he gave you. He was incredibly ethereal atop you. You wanted to see him come undone. And Jungkook was too far gone to think twice before hitching one of your legs up, the other arm grabbing the headboard as he thrust up inside you once again.

“Fuck, yes. God, you’re so good you’re so good. I could fuck you forever noona.”

His eyes are watering, tucking his face back into your neck again before he pistons his hips against yours rhythmically. The only sounds in the room being the tacky noise of skin slapping against skin, the obscene squelch from the steady arousal leaking between you both. You’re so delirious from the mix of pleasure and the deliciously addicting pain. AT some point, you’ve stopped screaming and only whimpers leave past your lips, legs falling lax around Jungkook and hands fisting the sheets.

“Cum Jungkook. P-Please baby. Cum for n-noona.”

“‘gunna cum. Am I good noona? your good boy?”

“You’re the best Jungkookie. Cum for your noona.”

“Fuck! Y/n, f-fuck.” He’s shouting something you can’t properly hear because of the ringing in your ears from your own release. Filling you with his hot release. The intense pressure that had been building between you has snapped the frail rubber band in your stomach again. And seems like Jungkook’s had too.

Moments pass, both of you trying to suck in air like it’s the last supply available. Then, Jungkook’s flushed face appears in front of yours with his signature cheeky smirk. He’s glowing.

“You squirted.”

“Shut up!” Your ears must be the shade of a tomato now as you swat his back for the comment. He lays besides you, cuddling up to your side with his leg laying on top of yours. Clinging to you like a koala and it’s too damn adorable. Damn it.

“It was hot. You’re amazing.” Your heart flutters a little too violently at that and you have to suck in another breathe, pulling the sheets off of him and completely bundling them on you.

“Hey!”

“Hm? You’re going to finish that assessment.” You grin innocently at him and try your hardest to not start howling with laughter when you can see his face fall almost in slow motion.

“Are you serious?” You just sent him a kiss before settling in his bed for maybe a 12 hour nap. Just a tiny nap.

“Noona!”

“I’ll give you head when you’re done. Be a good boy.”

With the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen on a grown man, you watch Jungkook pull up his boxers, stomping away to his study desk.

“Wake me up when you’re done Jungkookie.” Your sweet tone does little to get the pout off his face but he does smile the whole time he’s typing.

Of course, not that he let you see that

a/n: liked it? hated it? let me know!!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #hope u like it!!!

4K notes · View notes

jamilelucato · 4 years ago

Text

Imperfect [O.W.]

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Gryffindor!reader

Summary: Y/N is always trying out for the Quidditch team, and Oliver is tired of telling her no, so he decides to change it.

A/N: I know I have some requests yet and I’ll write them, but this idea of Oliver got stuck in my mind so I had to write it and it’s so cute! Oliver is so cute!!

Harry Potter Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Series

Words: +8.200

It was a beautiful morning to play Quidditch. But then again, if you ask Oliver, he would have said any morning is good enough for Quidditch. Today, he had an extra job than just managing his team. It was tryouts day — Gryffindor needed a new chaser.

Oliver Wood was thankful when he arrived in the pitch and saw that his teammates were already there. He expected Angelina, and maybe Alicia, but he wasn’t expecting the twins to arrive in time.

“A lot of people came,” commented Alicia, to fill the silence of an early morning. The teammates were good friends, but at such hour, they weren’t used to talk a lot.

Oliver took this as an opportunity to analyze the stands and found out Alicia was right. A lot of brave Gryffindors showed up, which was a surprise. Since only one spot was available, people generally avoided coming in lots.

Angelina stepped closer to Oliver, speaking a low whisper, her tone marked with pity: “Oh, no, she’s gonna try out again.”

Oliver followed Angelina’s eye, knowing very well who Angelina was referring to and trying to find her in the middle of the Gryffindors. He found her sitting on the first roll of the stands, holding her broom tight to her chest. If this were a photograph and someone had shown it to Wood, he wouldn’t have been able to tell each year was it taken on, because, since they were second-years she used to sit there in tryouts, waiting for a chance.

Oliver sighed involuntarily. He hated feeling pity for the girl because he knew that she truly didn’t deserve it. She was a smart, pretty girl who he shouldn’t take pity. She had other things to be proud of herself, Oliver was sure of it, but then why, why did she insist on showing up for trials every single time, even when the answer never changed?

“Good luck with her,” Angelina said, staring back at her old friend. She knew about the girl because she watched most of the times that Oliver had to say no to her.

“Don’t say it like that,” Oliver reprehended Angelina, his tone a little too harsh. He usually didn’t speak so seriously unless a match was about to start so it confused Angelina.

“Oli, are you feeling sympathy for her? Because you have to remember she’s terrible. I can give her points for trying, but that will not make us win a game,” Angelina said, touching, softly, her friend’s shoulder.

“Just... start the trials,” Oliver sighed, brushing Angelina’s touch off. He couldn’t stop staring at the girl, and he was happy to find her oblivious to the stares. Oliver and Angelina weren’t the only ones who knew she was terrible and yet kept coming — Oliver was quite sure that every Gryffindor in their year knew it too.

Angelina started calling the official team to their position, and she stole the list of names Oliver was carrying in his left hand. She was about to read aloud the first name when she noticed that it belonged to the girl in the stands — y/N y/L/N. Angie sighed, deciding to start bottom to top, giving herself more time to deal with the inadequate player.

“Oli, let’s go,” Angelina called her captain’s attention when the first trial was about to start. She was deep down worried Oliver was going to do something stupid towards that girl because why couldn’t he stop staring at her?

Thankfully, when the games started, Oliver Wood was distracted with Quidditch too much to remember y/N. He loved the sport, and Angie doubted there could be anything that could mislead him from that.

By the time they were testing the seventh chaser, Oliver was confident he had found the one: a girl from fifth-year who didn’t miss one chance to score. However, there were still eight other players in the stands waiting for their turn, and Oliver couldn’t let them all go without giving them a shot. He doubted they could be better than the fifth-year girl, but it was worthy.

The matches were capable of distracting him, but always when they were over, Oliver returned to face the girl huddled in the stands, y/N. With each new student they tested, y/N seemed to shrink even more.

Oliver wondered why she did this, why she kept showing up. It couldn’t be that after almost six years of rejection, she didn’t get the message.

“She’s the only one left,” Angelina said, looking at the stands.

The whole team groaned behind the two — Fred, George and Alicia knew very well how terrible y/N was. Oliver was beginning to think Harry Potter had understood that too, even if he was still new there.

“Today’s more crowded than the other times she participated,” Angelina pondered out loud. “People will laugh at her, Oli,” she looked down at her broom, her expression a mix of compassion and worry.

They knew she was terrible, but the rest of Gryffindor didn’t need to.

“Okay, listen up,” Oliver breathed hard two times before gathering the courage to do what he was about to do. “I’ll need more time to consider my options,” the whole crowd complained, causing Oliver to turn his eyes. His hands went to his waist as he tried very hard to not look at the girl in the first roll of the stands. “But later on I’ll call you all back here, or at least the best of you, and will try again.”

“Try again?” someone shouted, clearly angry.

“Yeah, you heard me,” the crowd wasn’t the only ones complaining — Fred and George were calling Oliver nuts in his back. “In fifteen days, we’ll try this again.”

“Oliver, what are you doing?” Angelina flew closer to the captain, her face clearly showing her surprise with Wood’s decision. “Thought it was going to be Katie Bell?”

Oliver swallowed hard, sure that not only Angelina was worried, but so the whole stands. “I need more time to think,” he said, letting his eyes finally wander to y/N.

The end of his sentence made things a little easier for the crowd, who left murmuring, but thankfully none of them was saying bad things about Oliver.

The girl in the stands fought against herself, a mixture of desires — the first was to disappear; the second was to raise her hand and warn them that they had not tested her.

“Oliver, what are you doing?” Angelina asked, knowing very well what her friend was doing, but not believing it anyway. Oliver didn’t answer because he didn’t know either.

Oliver finally dared to face y/N and noticed how her mouth opened and closed without saying a thing. Still, on the broom, he flew to where she was. He was able to fly efficiently, so even when his emotions closed his eyes, he knew he was making the right way to the girl.

“Oliver Wood,” the girl murmured, gulping in surprise. “Captain,” she said again, a bit louder, and Oliver looked down at his own hands. “I hate to be the one that mentions it, but you forgot me.”

Oliver finally looked at her, suddenly locked in her beautiful eyes, lost in her mystic for a second. “I’m sorry?” he managed to say.

“You forgot to try me out,” she gulped again, and her cheeks instantly pinked up. She seemed to notice what had happened to her face because her hands let the broom fall next to her seat, and she covered her mouth with them.

“Yeah, well, new tryouts are happening in fifteen days, so... we can do it later,” he said, really not sure of what to say next. It was like he wasn’t thinking, and that would be a first for him — to be thoughtless in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

“Why’s that though?” she questioned, raising her left brow slightly. Oliver gulped, knowing that his answer was going to embarrass her and kill him.

“Because of me?” she asked, and if Oliver believed her face was red before, it’s because he didn’t know the power she had hidden — right at that moment, she was only red.

“Yes,” Oliver sighed, knowing he had to say it once and for all. “Y/N, I know how you play. I was there in your first tryout—”

“—Yeah, I remember, we sat together. You were really nervous,” y/N interrupted, but Oliver didn’t care. He knew she did it to call his attention to another thing, something that wasn’t her game skills.

“—and since then, you haven’t got much better. You usually play with your emotions, and every time someone else scores or you don’t score, you get angry,” Oliver continued, getting off his broom and sitting next to her in the stands, placing his broom next to hers. That was when he noticed that her broom was a Firebolt, “when you get angry, your play tactics get even worse. Wait a minute — you have a Firebolt??”

Her eyes widened, while her nose wrinkled slightly. Y/N didn’t know what to say. Yes, she had a Firebolt and knew very well that it was one of the best brooms on the market, which meant it was one of the most expensive. Many professional teams didn’t have that broom yet, so someone like her, who didn’t play anything, was not expected to have it.

“Yes, it’s a Firebolt,” she played with her fingers, trying to calm herself down. There was a secret behind the broomstick, and Oliver Wood was the last person she wanted to find out. “It was a gift; it doesn’t matter.”

Oliver noticed she was trying to brush it off, so he dropped the subject. Perhaps she was the daughter of a rich pureblood he didn’t know. It didn’t matter much, she was right, but it did incentivize him, even more, to proceed with his idea.

“Anyway, what I want to say is that I have a plan,” he said, clasping his hand in the other and crossing his fingers, making his features more serious, intending to intimidate her into agreeing. Now that he knew she had a Firebolt, he couldn’t let the broom go to waste. “I want to train you.”

She gasped, and Oliver watched her expression change and go through many emotions before she finally decided to stick with denial and shame.

“Oliver, you can’t be serious, I mean, look at me,” she started loud and ended whispering. “I’m fine with the simple rejection — say you don’t want me in the team. You won’t be my first ‘no’.”

“But I don’t want it to be a no. The amount of bravery and dedication it takes you to show up year after year, hoping for a chance to get in — that’s the kinda loyalty I want in my team,” he said, avoiding looking at her to embarrass her even more. His eyes found the pitch, where Angelina watched the two with a confused expression. She and Fred were the only two left — he seemed to be talking to Angie, but she focused on Oliver and y/N. “We just need to turn you into a good player, that’s all.”

“That’s why you postponed the trials?”

Oliver didn’t answer — he didn’t want the girl to think she was too much special.

“But fifteen days isn’t enough, you of all people should know that,” she commented, pointing at him but with a delicate pout.

“You forget who will be training you,” Oliver smirked, trying his best to make it look casual as if he cast smirks at all the girls he knows. “I can turn you into a good chaser, good enough to pass the trial and then, you can train with the team.”

Pressing her lips hard on a pout, y/N shook her head from side to side. Oliver was sure she would say no to his ridiculous plan and run away. But she surprised him.

“Fine. Fifteen days of training, I suppose I can handle it,” y/N giggled nervously. “These will be the most training days I’ve ever had.”

Her lasts words surprised Oliver, who tried hard not to look so disappointed. He was going to work extra hard with y/N if he wanted her to be at least a sub on the team.

But as he watched her gather her stuff and leave with a smile, he was sure she was worth it.

***

“I can’t believe what you did,” Angelina complained as soon as Oliver sat down in the Gryffindor table to the feast.

“Which part? The part where he delayed the tryouts—” “—or the part where he picked the worst player ever to be his protégé?” George ended the question for his twin in a sarcastic tone, both of them frowning at Oliver.

Oliver rolled his eyes, diverting his attention to the food. He wasn’t ready to deal with his teammates. He knew they wouldn’t get it, and Oliver couldn’t ask them to understand because even he couldn’t.

He was enjoying the chicken when, unintentionally, his eyes left the plate and landed on the girl who sat on the other side of the table, at the far end of it, y/N y/L/N. He wasn’t sure how his senses noticed she had just arrived, but once he gazed at her, he couldn’t help but glimpse in that direction at least once in a minute.

“You still need to come to our practices, do you hear?” Angelina asked, her voice sounded like she was miles away, but she was sitting next to Oliver.

He swung his head, avoiding the obvious that was beginning to boil in his chest.

“I’ll be there, Angie,” he replied, finishing his plate.

The table gradually cleared, and thanks to Merlin, Oliver had stopped looking away in the direction of y/N.

When Fred Weasley was about to get up and leave, Oliver called for his mate, taking advantage that Angelina was no longer close.

“What is it, Wood?”

“I need your help,” Oliver said, locking his jaw and exposing his teeth.

“What do you need?” Fred sighed, crossing his arms as he faced Oliver from above.

“I reckon you know some secrets about the castle, and I need to know one of them.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, excited to discover a side of Oliver that he didn’t think existed and answered everything he could, trying to help in the best way.

***

“Get up, y/N.”

“No, mum, it’s too early,” y/N mumbled in her sleep, her eyes didn’t even open, and her mouth barely moved to speak those words.

“Get up, y/N. It’s Oliver, not your mom.”

Her eyes flew open in the dark in fright, and her hands ran to her hair as she futilely tried to control the mess.

“Oliver, what are you doing here??”

“Shh! Everyone’s still asleep,” he whispered, pulling away from her bed, giving her room to get up. “I’ll wait for you in the common room. Our training starts today, did you forget?”

She didn’t answer anything, still in the trance of having a beautiful, polite and surprisingly scented boy so early in the middle of her dorm.

“Come on, get changed,” he whispered a little louder this time since he was already at the door. He opened it and left, giving y/N a little peace for a few seconds, while she took a deep breath after the fright moment.

After wearing something comfortable but thick, because it was too early, so it was very windy, she left her room.

“How the hell did you get through the spells that block guys?” she asked before saying anything else. She was more curious than worried.

“Fred told me how,” he shrugged.

“Of course he did,” she puffed, holding her broom closer and following him out of the common room. “Just... don’t do it again, okay? You really scared me.”

Oliver held in a smile, afraid that she could misinterpret him.

“Aren’t we going to the Quidditch pitch?” she asked when they stopped in the school lawn, where the younger students took the flying classes.

“No need, not for your first lesson,” Oliver explained, opening a trunk that was already in the middle of the lawn. He probably had wakened up way earlier than y/N presumed, just to put it there.

While he opened it and decided which of the balls to take, y/N took her time to appreciate what Oliver was doing for her. They were never actually friends, so it wasn’t like he owed her anything.

“Well, for starters, do you know which one you have to focus on, as a chaser?” he asked, and she chuckled.

“Hey, Oliver, that, at least, I know,” she joked.

However, he didn’t seem to find it funny because he ignored her playful tone.

“Good, that’s good,” he got the Quaffle and started walking away from y/N. “Get on your broom.”

She did as asked, interested with what he was planning to do since he didn’t get in his broom.

“Now, I’m gonna make some ‘catch and throw’ rounds, okay? Think you can handle it?” he asked, raising a brow towards her, taking more steps away. She simply shook her head an yes.

*** They stayed outside in the lawn for two hours, and he was completely lying when he told y/N that he was going to do just some rounds of throw the Quaffle at her because that was literally all they did.

Yet, y/N got really tired of that, and she could feel her arms melting as if she had lost all her strength. She didn’t want to admit it to him, scared Oliver would think she is weaker than he thought, but even though she kept denying it, Oliver noticed that, after one hour of that exercise, her productivity wasn’t as good as in the first rounds.

“Okay, you can go shower now,” he tried to sound comical, but he was quite sure he failed. “I’ll see you again tonight, at 8 p.m., okay? At the Quidditch pitch.”

Y/N was practically many steps ahead of him, but yet she stopped and walked towards him again.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You can’t at 8? Do you prefer at 9?” he questioned, but he didn’t realize her dissatisfaction.

“Oliver, you want me to come back today? Again?”

Oh, he thought, finally realizing what she was unhappy about. He’s so used to practising Quidditch at any chance he gets that he sometimes forget other people aren’t like him, especially y/N, who isn’t even on the team.

“Don’t worry, I won’t overwork your arms again today; it’ll be a dodging Bludgers exercise,” he explained, getting up and collecting his trunk.

“Still doesn’t sound exciting to come back,” she sniffed, in a sad frown.

“Want me to invite the twins?”

“Hell, no,” she rejected immediately, very aware that, although very funny (they could manage to keep her happy at least), they were very good beaters, and she would suck at dodging their Bludgers.

“See you later, y/N,” Oliver said, walking past her, while she tried to recover herself from the fear of exhaustion.

***

She couldn’t pay attention to any of the day classes, and it was not because of her new Quidditch career ahead of her — it was because, thanks to the Quidditch career, showering took longer than expected and she missed breakfast. And paying attention with an empty stomach (and sore arms) was impossible.

Her mind, walking through the imagination land; her thoughts, starting to make no sense when a piece of paper knocked her in the neck. She unfolded it and read:

Still sore?

It was a simple phrase, and at first, she did not recognize who could have sent it. Until she remembered who sat behind her in McGonagall’s class.

She replied instantly: I’m just hungry. I lost time for breakfast.

Since she got no answers, she tried to pay attention in class once again, but it was almost over, and McGonagall soon freed they all.

“Hey, y/N,” a voice called as soon as y/N stepped out of class. She looked around and found Oliver Wood leaned in one of the pillars holding an apple in his hand. “Take it, it’ll keep you sated until lunchtime.”

She looked at his hand stretched towards her so she could take the fruit, and, for a second, she hesitated. But she decided it was best she ate something.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him, but he seemed not to notice.

“We can start earlier tomorrow if you want — you won’t miss breakfast,” he suggested, walking next to her towards her next class.

“No, I rather loose breakfast,” she said, frowning a bit, letting her mind imagine herself waking up at something like 3:30h in the morning — she didn’t doubt he could suggest it.

He chuckled, fascinated with her. He then froze, chocked with himself. That would be a first, Oliver had never felt fascinated by a girl before, only Quidditch news got his fascination. What had changed? Well, maybe he just needed a time walking with people that aren’t in the Quidditch team.

After all, his only best friend was Angelina Johnson, and he only talked to her about the sport.

They walked together to their next classes, surprised to find out they also had the next period together.

***

“Good evening,” Oliver said in the dim light of the Quidditch field. Someone had installed magic lights there a couple of years ago, but they weren’t too good.

Y/N stared at Oliver, angrily. She was only provoking him — she knew what she had signed up for — but he didn’t realize it was a joke.

“Are you okay?”

“Let’s start it so I can go to bed. You woke me up way earlier than I expected today,” she said, reminding herself to laugh afterwards, already picking up the fact that Oliver didn’t have the talent to know when people are pretending to be mad.

He smiled sideways, glad that she was able to joke around him. He was much worried when this all started that y/N would keep blushing every time he said something, and y/N would be shy around him, so it was nice to see that she was getting used to him.

He decided he wasn’t gonna train her much that night, after all, it was just her first day. They didn’t have much time though, and he was afraid they’d need all the time they could get, so he knew tomorrow he would have to take extra hours with her. But he let tomorrow worries be tomorrow problems.

***

It was her ninth day of training, and y/N was about to give up. She was exhausted — she wasn’t paying attention to more than half of her classes, and her homework was pilling up. The amount of pain she was feeling in her arms that were never used to exercise was killing her. She had stopped at Madam Pomfrey to get some potions for the pain, but she was afraid that if she appeared in the Hospital Ward for the fifth day consecutive, Pomfrey would admit her in.

Y/N started seeing other things too — when her mind wasn’t wandering off. She noticed the Gryffindor team was always staring — at the feasts and in the middle of classes —, particularly Angelina.

Quidditch pitch at midnight. (Sorry I didn’t get another time. Slytherin will train until 11:30 p.m.) See you there.

She was already used to the notes Oliver Wood would pass her in the middle of classes. She was glad he was using this system instead of invading her dorm room, even though his calligraphy wasn’t the best.

They were far from midnight, but y/N was already walking around the halls a bit sleepy. She managed to get coffee when she went to her dorm — y/N had to pretend she was going to bed just like everybody else. No one could know she and Oliver were wandering around past curfew.

Her, once very new broom, was now grated, scraped and worn in places. Okay, it was still way better than Oliver’s for instance, but still, she was falling off of it many more times than she wished.

She stared at the clock on the nightstand beside her bed. It was still twenty minutes to midnight, but she didn’t care. She got up, grabbed a jumper and dressed it over a green t-shirt (which was part of her pyjamas) and her black cotton pants.

Oliver wasn’t in the common room, so she kept walking alone with her broom to the Quidditch field, avoiding finding Mr Filch.

She met some Slytherins in her way to outside — a couple of boys in Quidditch uniform, so close to each other she wondered if they were lovers instead of friends.

When she finally got there, she noticed that Oliver’s broom was tossed in the ground, only she couldn’t find him in the dusky light.

She grabbed his broom, leaving her own on the floor instead, and she analyzed it. She had so many better brooms in her house... maybe if she wrote a letter for her mom, she would send y/N’s old Swiftstick 5.0 to Hogwarts. Oliver would like it better than his old one.

Suddenly, a light was turned on, illuminating the field much better than that spell they had cast years ago. Y/N looked around, trying to find the source and noticed a boy at the other side of the field.

“Hey, y/N!” Oliver yelled before jogging to meet y/N. “Much better, huh?” he looked over to the lights.

“What did you do?”

“Asked Flitwick how he did the lighting of here those two years ago and recast the spell. He said it was about time someone did it, but since they stopped using it at night, no one noticed...” Oliver stopped talking once he noticed he might have said too much.

“Well, it’s way better. Definitely better,” y/N smiled, giving Oliver his broom and grabbing back her own.

“Then let’s start. Don’t wanna be here ‘til five in the morning,” Wood joked and was surprised when y/N also chuckled. He knew he was learning to be funny (perhaps her influence), but it was nice to see that she thought he was funny too. “Today we’ll train something more specific — flying in the rain.”

“It’s not raining,” she pointed out, scared of what was yet to come.

Oliver smiled, taking his wand from his back pocket and casting the spell. “Meteolojinx!”

Y/N didn’t even get time to hide when the water started falling over then. It rained so much on them that y/N couldn’t see anything anymore. It made sense for Oliver to want to fix the lighting in the field — without the extra light, she was sure she couldn’t even tell where Oliver was.

“What a spell,” she gasped, riding on her broom and climbing at the ideal height for Quidditch.

Oliver followed and, with some difficulty, she heard his voice: “one against one, can it be?”

She didn’t reply so he took it as a yes. He let the Quaffle out, and both played chaser and keeper because it was a one-person team.

Y/N somehow manage to score — and she knew how hard that was because Oliver was an excellent keeper. She believed he was distracted with his new position of chaser, so she took it as an opportunity. Of course, he scored too, way more than her, actually, but the point there was to make her a better chaser, not a good keeper.

When they collided with each other, the sound of the collision was so loud it almost felt like a clap of thunder. She had no idea if the fake rain could produce thunders though, and she didn’t think much about it since she was falling from her broom of such a height that would scare anyone.

Oliver was falling with her, but because of the rain, she couldn’t see him. “Oliver, are you okay?” she asked, almost sure the fault was hers.

She heard him grunt not so distant from her. When she managed to see his silhouette, she raced next to him.

“Did you break anything? How are you feeling?” she asked, placing her hand over his cheeks, making sure he wasn’t bleeding in the head.

“I’m okay. Guess I’m used to it. And you?” Oliver asked, shaking his head and passing his hands over his shirt to clean the dirty.

“I guess my broom held on to me as much as it could, so my fall wasn’t that much,” she explained, not sure if her explanation was logical but that what she was believing. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

She offered him her hand, and he took it with a firm grip. She pulled him up stronger than she presumed she could.

Oh, maybe the training is making my arms stronger, she thought in the seconds before Oliver’s body collided with hers again — this time entirely her fault.

The rain seemed to be losing its strength, falling in a weaker cascade, allowing y/N to see Oliver’s face utterly, and so the two noticed that they were very, very close.

And it happened. Without knowing who was the first to approach — perhaps both; perhaps it was solely the circumstance. In a moment, y/N pressed her lips against Oliver’s, felt his body loosen and arms touch her shoulders.

Y/N tells herself she’s not going to think about it, she’s just going to let it happen, but she’s lying — just like she has been every time Oliver touched her during training, to show her a movement or something. She’s remembering every detail of pieces of training before this one, and she is comparing it to the way he kisses her.

It’s not perfect, no. They are in the middle of rain, for Merlin’s sake, of course, it’s not perfect. And Oliver Wood, although very hot, cute, and charming, is no movie prince. He grabs her waist a bit too harsh, he pulls her closer way too slow. But it is worth it. Because they are finally learning about each other, finally seeing themselves for who they are.

Oliver’s overthinking the kiss too. He’s scared he’s doing something she’ll regret. He doesn’t kiss a lot of girls — some brave ones corner him after Quidditch matches he won and congratulate him in this felicitous way, but no other girl is like her.

No other girl Oliver has kissed before pulled him by his shirt like y/N in a desperate way as if they are gonna disappear when they leave each other. No girl’s mouth was as sweet in taste like y/N’s, no other girl could have such a perfect perfume in the middle of the rain. But y/N has. Oliver has no idea why or how, but she has.

It’s not the perfect kiss, but it feels so perfect!

And then, she pulls away. One step at the time, she walks out of their little comfort zone. For the first time, Oliver noticed, he touched her, and she’s not blushing. It makes him scared for a minute, but it suddenly goes away when he sees her gasping for words because he doesn’t want her to say something.

All those days working together most of the time, exchanging notes in the middle of classes, Oliver noticed that neither of them is good with words, so he doesn’t let her speak. It can ruin the moment. Instead, he kisses her again, softer this time. Slower. He enjoys it, remembers the way their tongs dance, the way her hand feels in his hair.

But, again, it doesn’t last much. Y/N pulls away and presses her left hand in his chest, stopping him where he is. This is it, he thinks, she’s gonna say she hated it.

But she slowly leans down, grabs what Oliver believes is her broom, and she walks away, in rushed steps, running from the Quidditch field. Running from him.

Oliver was scared she would ruin the moment by saying something, but while he gathered his Quidditch supplies scattered in the wet ground, the only thing that comes to his mind is that he wishes she had said something. Anything. And that thought hunts him.

***

Y/N waked up in time for breakfast which meant she lost the morning training. But then, last training went until 3 a.m. Oliver couldn’t possibly want her in the Training Grounds at 5 a.m.

Besides, they shared the most passionate kiss ever, so y/N was kinda sure there was no training planned for that morning.

She walked in the Hall, looking for Angelina Johnson. She never talked to that girl, but y/N never had many lady friends. When she sees her target, she grabs the girl by her arm and takes her to a corner. Angelina doesn’t even protest — she figures Oliver has done something.

She imagined the wrong thing, though.

“You want me to tell him you give up?” Angelina was smiling when she asked y/N that, causing the girl to wonder if Angelina knows about the kiss and is somehow interested in Oliver.

“Give up on...?”

“Training. Oli probably made you wake up at 2 in the morning, am I right?” Angelina kept the smile on.

Y/N tilted her head, confused. They clearly weren’t on the same page.

“In his defence, he hasn’t recovered from that training session either. Hasn’t woke up yet. Said to Fred and George to wake him only five minutes before class,” Angelina found it all very funny. Like all the times Oliver made she wake up early to QUidditch were finally getting back at the boy.

The new information held y/N back. Did he spend his dawn thinking about her? About their kiss?

“I didn’t grab you because of Quidditch. I’m still trying out,” y/N decided to clarify.

“Oh,” Angelina smile died.

“Yeah, what I want with you is that, well, you’re the only one I see Oliver talk to, even more than the twins,” y/N started, not sure of how to finish. She takes a look at her hand before continuing. “Yesterday, he kissed me. I kissed him. I don’t know who started it — we kissed, that’s it,” she managed to say, and she watched Angelina expression as it changed back to a smile, this time way brighter.

“I knew he liked you! I knew it! It had to be the reason why...” Angelina let her phrase die, she didn’t want to offend you based n your Quidditch skills. “But oh my! What now? Are you two together?”

Y/N pressed her lips together, making an embarrassing face. “Well, about that. I ran. We kissed, and I ran away,” y/N told, expecting Angelina to shout at her, but no scream came. “I was super, duper stupid, but I didn’t know what to say. I’m not good with words, you see.”

“And that git isn’t either. What a pair,” Angelina chuckled with herself, lost in thoughts. “What are you going to do now?”

“I have no idea,” y/N answered, and she stared at Angelina with big puppy eyes, trying to make the girl understand she wanted her suggestion.

“No way! I’m not gonna give an opinion. He’s my friend, but you two should work this on you own,” Angelina said, crossing her arms. “Anyway, thanks for telling me about the kiss. That’s fresh gossip.”

“Oh, no, please don’t tell anyone,” y/N asked, and out of pity, Angelina agreed. But she didn’t say anything more either and walked away when she noticed y/N had nothing more to tell.

The poor girl was left alone at the end of the Gryffindor table, and being alone with her thoughts was all y/N did not want.

***

That day, no training was scheduled. Y/N did cross paths and classes with Oliver Wood, but no notes were tossed at her, so she decided to ignore him just the same.

Oliver was sure y/N hated the kiss, and that was why she ran away, or, at least, she didn’t want to be kissed.

Y/N was sure Oliver hated her guts for abusing of his kindness of teaching her Quidditch. So she had a plan. She wrote a letter to her dad, instead of her mom as she previously planned. And she asked for a new Firebolt. The latest he could get her.

Here’s the thing about her parents: they are divorced, and she lived with her mom. Her dad is practically never around, but when he comes up with new brooms, he gifts y/N with it. Those were the only times her dad would stop by because his whole life was about Quidditch supplies.

That’s where y/N’s dream of being in the Gryffindor team was born — she wanted her dad to cheer for his daughter, at least about the only thing he liked and talked about. But she never got in the team, and he never saw her playing.

She reunited all her courage to write a letter to the heir of the Ellerby and Spudmore, but it was the only thing she could think would be enough to Oliver apologize her. And she prayed it would work.

He didn’t write back so the next day in breakfast when her owl delivered no letters, she freaked out. He wasn’t going to reply when she most needed it, of course. So typical.

She was thinking terrible things about her father when the whole Gryffindor table started gasping at two owls who flew in with a big package in their beak. When they were close enough, y/N was sure the package was a broomstick. And when they dropped it in front of Oliver Wood (sitting at the other end of the table; they were sitting very far away from each other that day) she almost screamed to the whole Hall listen.

She watched as he unwrapped the papers, and the girl sitting next to her asked if she was okay because she seemed more excited than the boy who was presented.

“I’m a huge fan of brooms, that’s it,” y/N lied, holding in her smile as she got up and left the place, scared that her father could have told the boy she was his daughter.

Y/N kept it a secret of everyone, and it was easier when she had her mom’s last name instead of her father’s.

In the letter to her father, she told him that Oliver Wood was a friend of hers that was an excellent keeper, but his broom was broken, and Gryffindor was going to lose the next match because of it. Yeah, she was very dramatic in the letter, but if she weren’t, perhaps her father wouldn‘t have given the boy the broom.

And she couldn’t tell the old man she kissed the boy and ran away.

“Hey, y/N, wait up!” a voice called her, and even before she turned, she knew to who it belonged.

Oliver stared at her, one hand he held the Firebolt, in the other, a piece of parchment y/N was sure was a letter from her father.

“I think I have to thank you for the broom,” he said, stepping closer to her.

Thankfully they were outside of the Great Hall, so there wasn’t a crowd watching their every move.

“Although, there was no need for it,” he added, shyly. He was clearly happy about getting a new broom, but he had to play the selfless.

“You sure deserved it, for training me and all. I mean, you managed to turn a nobody into an okay player of Quidditch. That’s big, especially because nobody forced you into it,” she said, trying hard to not let her cheeks pink up.

“And you never told me you were the daughter of Randolph Spudmore!” he said, smiling.

However, y/N’s smile died. She got suddenly scared, afraid. He wouldn’t look at her the same way now, and he was probably going to admit her in the team because there was a chance they’d get free brooms. Gosh, she had already given him a free broom. And now she wondered: why? For kissing her, probably out of pity, and never mentioning it again?

“Yeah, well, I don’t talk to him much,” she managed to say, trying to turn the tables, but it was already too late. He was already staring at her like the air of the Ellerby and Spudmore. There were sparks in his eyes when he looked at her now.

They stayed in silence for a moment, neither wanting to step away, but they knew they would need to.

“So, huh, will I see you in training tonight?” Oliver asked, with hope in his eyes.

“Tell me when and I’ll be there,” she said before stepping away with a fake smile and then, as soon as she was sure he couldn’t see her anymore, she ran back to her dorm.

***

Y/N came to all the training sessions Oliver scheduled, and she trained as hard as ever, never even complaining.

Never even mentioning the kiss either, but Oliver didn’t want to think about that. It was his fault after all — he pushed her to do something she didn‘t want to. He needed to be thankful y/N was able to surpass it and still play friends with him instead of casting jinxes against him and never looking at him again.

So he acted professional, he was the perfect couch when y/N was around. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done — especially when he had to touch her to teach a new move — but it better to have her around as friends than to not have her at all.

And once y/N got in the team (and Oliver was sure that even Angelina would agree to admit y/N), the two would be teammates and maybe, who knew, one day he could kiss her again. After a match or something. The boy could dream.

“So, are you ready for tomorrow?” he said before freeing her, trying to make small talk.

“I guess. Can’t be better than I am now,” y/N smiled, and for a moment, Oliver forgot how to breathe.

“Well, then good luck. See you in the field tomorrow,” he smiled too, trying to make sure y/N wouldn’t notice his heartbeat that was accelerating.

And then she walked away before he could try and say anything else.

He wanted to rush towards her, grab her by the waist and kiss her again. But he knew he shouldn’t, and that was killing him, even more than losing a Quidditch match.

***

Y/N sat in the same spot in the stand she had been sitting for all those years she tried out. But something was different.

For instance, she now had this huge, ridiculous and platonic crush on the team captain.

She was also way better in Quidditch now than she was on the other times she tried out.

And, to make matters nervously worse, her father was there.

Yes, mister Randolph Spudmore was sitting next to his teenage daughter y/N y/L/N in the stands of the Quidditch field of Hogwarts. All eyes were on them, but somehow that was the last of y/N’s concerns.

After the letter she wrote thanking her father for he broom, he kept writing her back. He showed interest in her academic life. Asked about grades. Asked if Dumbledore was still a crazy chap.

He didn’t mention Quidditch in a whole letter of two pages — that was definitely a record!

He did ask about the boy he gave the broom to, and he asked again in person when he arrived this morning.

She decided to go with the truth. Her father wasn’t stupid, he would have noticed the way y/N was going to look at Oliver once they were in the same place.

“Tell me about the boy,” the father request. “I gotta know who’s friends with my daughter after all.”

“Well, honestly, he’s much like you. All he talks about is Quidditch. I bet he knows the name of every player in all the professional teams. And I bet he framed your letter.”

Her father burst into laughter, making all the students stare at him once again.

“But he’s such a good player, dad, like better than the professionals, you know? Looking at him, you know he was born for the sport,” she added.

Her father stared at the boy who was testing another student at that moment, and he was sure his daughter was right. But he knew there was more to the boy. Yes, when he saw Randolph in the stands, and he freaked. But the reason he kept looking in their direction in the middle of the trials — and y/N’s father was sure of it — wasn’t just because of the broom maker.

It was because he was captured by Randolph’s little girl.

“And he likes you,” Randolph said, catching his daughter by surprise.

“What? Oh no. I mean, we kissed, I told you that. But we’re over that. It was probably hormones,” y/N shrugged.

“Probably,” her father pretended to agree.

“He never mentioned it again, dad, so I know what I’m saying.”

“Hey, I didn’t disagree,” her father smiled, knowing his daughter had spilt the beans without him asking. “Look, honey,” he laughed his excitement off before continuing, “if you say he’s so much like me, have you thought about the possibility that he doesn’t know what to say? How long it took me to reach out to you?”

Y/N stayed quiet, not sure of what her father wanted.

“He speaks Quidditch. You told me that yourself. So maybe, he doesn’t know how to talk to you,” her father continued.

“Well, dad, maybe I don’t know how to talk to him either,” y/N protested. She didn’t want to be the one reach out.

“Then don’t,” he smiled. “But not in front of me, okay?” he laughed out loud again, so entertained with the teen drama, he wondered why it took him so long to reach out.

“y/N y/L/N, you’re next,” shouted Angelina from up her broom.

Her father wished her good luck, and she disappeared in the air. Angelina flew to y/N and explained what she needed to perform to be tested. It was simple really: score once in the five minutes limit.

Only problem: Oliver Wood was the keeper.

She sighed, almost laughing at how destiny was low. But y/N and Oliver weren’t enemies, they were friends. Well, both were hiding their feelings for each other, but still, friends.

Many tries. She got the Quaffle all the times the other chasers tossed it to her, but Oliver always managed to stop it before it scored.

“One minute left,” Angelina informed, before starting all over again with the run to catch the Quaffle.

And then, Alicia tossed it to y/N, Fred sent a Bludger in her direction — y/N ducked, lowering just a bit her broom and she scored. She actually scored!

The only person in the stands shouting was her father, but it seemed as everybody was celebrating.

She got to the ground, unable to stay in her broom any longer. Yeah, she scored — it didn’t mean she was in. Other students had scored too. But it didn’t matter — she had never scored before.

Fred and George flew around her, making faces showing how impressed they were. Angelina got out of her broom just to congratulate her.

Nobody believed that the girl in the corner had scored finally, after so many years and tryouts.

She wasn’t looking in the direction of the goal arcs, so she didn’t see when Oliver got down from his new Firebolt and started walking towards her.

“Y/N,” he had only called for her, but it was enough for her to hurry up and wrap her arms around his torso, swallowing him in a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she whispered over and over in Oliver’s ear. “I don’t care if your team doesn’t choose me. I am happy to just know that I am capable of it.”

Oliver didn’t know what to say, so he just hugged her even tighter and tighter.

“I wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for you,” she said, slowly letting go of him.

“Of course you would,” he disagreed, smiling as he delighted in the sight of her beautiful reddish face. Oh, how he missed seeing her cheeks flush!

The silence settled again, that awful moment when they both didn’t know what to say, but wanted to say so much ...

“You know what? I need to score a point again,” she said, grabbing his wrist before taking a step closer.

“Score again? What do you mean by that?”

“I already beat the keeper. Now I need to win him,” she smiled, finally taking their space and kissing him in that perfectly imperfect way that only the two could masterfully reproduce.

She had a lot of things to still figure out. She needed to keep in touch with her father, for instance. She needed to have a serious conversation with the keeper she was kissing at the moment about what they were, and y/N needed to find out if she got in the team or not.

But with Oliver Wood curled up in her arms, kissing her and teasing her with bites on her lower lip and an audience cheering them on, none of those things mattered. She knew he was a keeper and she was never letting him go.

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x gryffindor!reader #quidditch #harry potter #fred weasley #george weasley #angelina johnson #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x y/n #firebolt #harry potter imagine #hp #oliver wood imagine #keeper #chaser

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goldlightsaber · 3 years ago

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No Country for Old Men

No Country for Old Men doesn't really need my praise, given that it won the Academy Award for Best Picture and Best Supporting Actor and several other awards. But I'm here to give it anyway! It is truly a work of art. Over a decade old and it has stood the test of time as a gripping thriller. Warning: this review is a bit all over the place, but I covered the bits I liked best!

The Big Bad

Javier Bardem. Where do I begin with him? I could watch this man clean up gunshot wounds in a cheap motel room for hours. It was so fascinating to see him work -- even if a lot of that work was brutal, cold-blooded, psychopathic murder. Watching him was like watching a true crime documentary. He felt real and chilled me to the core.

I commend the script for all its cleverness, but especially the intentionality behind Anton Chigurh's dialogue. I have never seen more unusual, rhythmic dialogue. What stuck in my head was his relentless way of asking questions. "Where does he work?" he asks the trailer park management lady. She tells him she can't tell him. Again, he asks, "Where does he work?" She tells him again, more firmly, that she can't reveal the information. In the same monotone, he asks for a third time, "Where does he work?" He puts on no charm. He does not bribe or threaten. He asks questions straight. He disguises himself as --but does not claim to be-- something he's not. He pretends to be a cop; a man stranded on the road; a hotel guess. People believe what he only appears to be. They make something of him, something recognizable, so that they know how to interact with him. Except slowly, through dialogue, he reveals to them his true, sadistic nature. And no one wants to believe it. Often the people he speaks with are dumbfounded, stammering out "Sir?" and "I don't understand." It doesn't dawn on them until its too late that he is someone they should run from. It's ironic, really. The goodwill and trust of other people is his bread and butter -- it's what allows him to extract information without force (at least at first) and to obtain all the resources he needs. There's a Southern hospitality theme that runs throughout. Many of the Texans he runs into offer him help -- little do they know that, with Anton Chigurh, it will likely cost them their lives. Everyone is a means to an end unless they are the end -- the person he means to kill.

Don't even get me started on his weapon of choice. It looks like he's carrying around an oxygen tank. It even gives him a misleading look of frailty -- like he might be using it to survive despite it not being attached to his person. If he was carrying around a gun, people might run in the other direction. But, seeing a captive bolt stunner, people are often just confused (I had to look up what it was called) -- and that's part of his genius too.

Yet he's tone deaf. He is easily irritated by small talk, seeming not to understand its point (award for most extreme introvert like, ever?). He nearly killed a gas station worker seemingly because of the small talk. A hint at his disturbed, unusual mind. As I mentioned earlier, he always cuts to the chase -- no fluff. He will get what he needs now, or else. Unless you're lucky and the coin toss flips in your favor. Or there are too many witnesses nearby. But rest assured -- there is no escaping this man. As Woody Harrelson's character, Wills, asks Llewelyn: "You've seen him, and you're not dead?"

Subverting Expectations

With a crime movie, you hope the good guy lives and the cops catch the killers, or that at least one of the two things happen. Nope! Not that simple with a Coen brothers film. Llewelyn is a law-breaking and a "street smart" guy but has a golden heart. He's empathetic (like when the "agua" man hung over his conscience) and only shoots people when he needs to -- Anton Chigurh is his foil, in that sense. Even though his resourcefulness and quick thinking gets him out of trouble for the majority of the film, he is suddenly killed by the Mexican cartel. We don't see it happen, we only see the drug dealers fleeing the scene and the aftermath. It comes minutes after a flirty motel patron tells Llewelyn that, whatever is coming, Llewelyn will never see it coming. And he doesn't. And neither does the audience, for that matter. With Llewelyn seemingly gearing up to fight Chigurh, I expected the two of them to have a showdown over the money. Llewelyn's death was sudden and abrupt. He didn't go out with guns blazing. He didn't get to showcase his strength. For all the times he has healed from injuries, Llewelyn--likable, honorable--still dies.

The sheriff retires -- he doesn't manage to track down Chigurh or anyone else for that matter. To him, Chigurh is a "ghost." The sheriff, at the end of the movie, describes himself as "ummatched," and that is underwhelming too. You fully expect -- or I did, based on previous crime thriller movies-- for some sort of justice to be served, for someone to be caught and locked away, but Chigurh is alive and free at the end of the movie and so are all the anonymous players of the drug cartels working these deals. There was no justice. Not for Llewelyn, not for his wife, not for all the collateral damage.

A Brilliant Script

Speaking of Llewelyn's wife! I loved her last show of defiance in the face of Chigurh. She was shocked but not surprised. Surely, his appearance scared her, but she knew death was coming for her -- and she didn't give Chigurh the liberty of making her death her responsibility. He was fully accountable -- and she made that clear. Was it a foolish choice? I don't know. It did leave me thinking for a while -- what would I do in the situation? The coin toss is the greatest mercy Chigurh is capable of bestowing on anyone. He is a Harvey Dent without a grudge. She chooses not to participate in the game and he kills her. I asked myself: were I in that situation, would I have chosen not to play? There were two options: she plays and has a 50% chance of living. She doesn't play, and she will, for certain, die. She chooses the latter. Is that bravery? I think so. It's certainly strength of character. She is principled in a wholly other way than Chigurh. I feel that I would have wanted to "call it" -- give myself a chance at living. But even that phrasing is misleading. No matter the "choice," Chigurh is the real judge, jury and executioner. And he chooses to kill. Always.

When he exits Carla Jean's house, I found myself wondering what had happened. In the first few seconds of the scene, it isn't yet clear whether he killed her. What follows is one of the more brilliant, subtle moments of the film: Chigurh checks the bottoms of his shoes. We know from an earlier scene that he takes care to keep them clean from the carnage of his crimes, and so, we also know he was checking to see if Carla Jean's blood had spilt on them. He murdered her.

The Ending

I have not yet uncovered the symbolic significance of the car crash, but I can try to take a guess. The car crash brutally injures Chigurh, breaking his arm and God knows what else. It is a random accident, not someone intentionally trying to kill him. Two boys who were riding their bikes behind him approaching Chigurh, who is sitting on the sidewalk, seriously injured. The boys offer him help only out of goodwill. But then he offers them money for one of their shirts, which they initially reject until he insists they take it. Is the symbolism in that? Of yet-uncorrupted youth starkly contrasted with his total evil? In offering them a large sum of money, is he corrupting them to think of life transactionally? As he walks away, the boys argue about splitting the money and he is no longer their concern -- greed is on their mind but only because he brought up money in the first place. (I feel like I cheated on this one because I read somewhere how the movie is about the rising forces of evil in the world that are hard to defeat -- hence the sheriff is unable to defeat them). Will this start them down the path of chasing money and power? Who knows. Maybe.

Overall: a movie I couldn't look away from except to run to the bathroom. I could watch hours of Javier Bardem in this role just sitting. Or eating. But preferably treating his own wounds.

Watch if: you're a fan of Ozark (TV show); or Fargo (movie or TV show).

#no country for old men #the coen brothers #javier bardem #my love <3 #josh brolin #tommy lee jones #kelly macdonald #film #text #i decided to cheer myself up by writing a movie review so HERE #i guess i only do these for movies i like lol #need to watch some shitty films #I ALMOST FORGOT THE PICTURES

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onf-headcanons · 4 years ago

Text

Another OFFICE AU aka CEO AU

A/n : Alas its not draft clearing but a brand new work for 2021 (but i still have some drafts as well)XD Hello, did any of you remember an idea dump I dropped for last year Christmas? you could easily guess which was it by tallying the mood board with the idea lists (*winks)

Setting :

1. OFFICE AU 2 , it is a brand new one where ONF member is a young CEO while you are his secretary. So I will name this one as CEO AU

Of course it does not hurt should you wanna imagine it as the already exist office au, using the idea dump posted for 2020 Christmas.

2. ONF MEMBER that I will integrate would be Hyojin and Seungjun as mentioned during the Christmas post, but I wont stop you for imagining other members, thats why in headcanons I will use ONF MEMBER instead their names. (For member X reader scenario)

3. In this headcanon, reader is slightly older than ONF member, maybe 2 or 3 years older. Same age is plausible, then it would be ONF member continued their studies further so they started working late.

ok lets go, beware its long and sorry if it is messy I tried my best to control 2 way storyline, I had fun writing but I know I am lacking much much more than I could notice. total 6k word count (dies)

1-1

• You work as assistant/secretary for the head of department/CEO in company before the young successor joins and his predecessor retires. • Because you tend to separate work life and private life, you established personality to look like ice queen on the outside (reality) but actually passionate carer on the inside (virtually). None of your colleagues knew, only your close friends • You have been using a chat app (not tinder type) for since you started intern, • 1. That app's specialty was anonymous. • 2. Its like a hideout spot where you can share and post whatever you love. (Because there are some co-workers added your FB or Insta and you felt it is a hassle to create another fake account exclusively to add people) • 3. Even though you tried and failed at 1 or 2 virtual relationships with other users, you never despise the thought of online dating. But you do know it’s not realistic so you never take it too seriously (it is also self-protection) • You would post some photos but mostly are just lunch pics, occasionally an outdoor view from your office floor, also some cute stationaries or accessories found on the way back home. (Just adding this trivia for fun linking the universe, maybe you pass by Minkyun’s flower shop as well?) • (It will be funny if your contents was more on sharing random idol pics that you follow, passionately promoting it hence creating a more impact contrast later when revealing) • One day you came across a post asking about what kind of cologne to buy for a predecessor who will be retiring. Being a good Samaritan, you leave a few suggestions under the post and did not really take it to heart, you forgot about it once you see the original author replied "Thanks" • Not knowing that 1 interaction would change your life forever.

1-2 • The next day, your superior announced his retirement and mentioned a young successor will join the company next month. And ONF member being the young successor does make rumors flying around the company, making people questioning his ability as he is related to company board of directors. The department you are in is under top 5 sales/profit bringing, so with a young successor would be inexperienced which might lead to drop of department reputation of course people are going to worry and gossip. • First impression with ONF member is actually ok. Well dressed, good looking and nice manners. The moment he followed his predecessor walks into the office floor, girls starts to make all sorts of gasping noises (lol) • Your superior mentioned that he bought a retirement gift for your superior deep down you approved at the selection of the cologne brand. • You might goes, this guy got sense, not bad. • One night after several days ONF member joined the department/company, you received a PM from a user, thanking you for the cologne recommendation. It took you a while to remember who it was. You politely replied him “You are welcome.” • The user also nonchalantly asked about how you can make such suggestion that pinpoints because by the glance at your profile, first impression could be very much misleading. • You just replied that you happened to know someone at that age who likes that type of scent hence the list of suggestions, what you did was just you taking the liberty to do a lucky guess. • Out of curiosity, you tap at the stranger’s avatar to get a glimpse of his profile, but out of your disappointment, there were no picture of his to know what he looks like. But there are pictures of scenery from places he travelled. • You also noticed that their “joined the app” days are way lesser than you are, quite a new user. • You found a few pictures of places you went before/ places that you want to go. Delighted, you started the conversation asking if he likes travelling and his next travel plans. • The other party replied briefly his plans and his experience during travels, from his words you know that he won’t be travelling overseas for the next 2 years as he had a new job and responsibility to learn. Instead he will be focusing on doing domestic travels. • His words made you reminisce your rookie days and you responded him that you understand him with empathy. You did not pry further but you do give him some encouragement, telling him that things will get better and once he got the hang of it, he will have more time on his own. (Yup at the moment you are thinking he is a freshman or newbie joining new company) • You timidly ask your new chat friend why they decided to join and use the app. He replied, “I don’t really play social media apps and I don’t want anyone to find me online, the anonymous system this app provides mental security for me.” • The reply was so different from those who are playing the app just for flirting and finding a quick date, you replied him, “Same as you.” • The conversation ends by the other party mentions he will need to be early for work and politely wishes you good night. The next morning you found the stranger has added you as friend, without any thoughts you tap on your screen and now you have a new mutual.

1-3 • Back to office, as ONF member is still new towards his scope of work, you would sometimes giving him advise and guides by sharing “What would his predecessor does.” or “What he can do by not violating company policy”. He takes advises well and would always inquire for your suggestion before making any critical decision. • Once he started to get the hang of it, you passed the torch of freedom to him because you are only a secretary/assistant. But he will still come to you, which you felt he was being dependent. (I feel if it is Minkyun, he will be more dependent should the scope of work is totally unfamiliar to him. Tendency of dependent to independent would be Seungjun, Hyojin, Yuto same par as Jaeyoung, Changyoon then Minkyun.) • (Of course sometimes there are some doubt raised regarding to policies and because he sees things in another perspective, you know he meant no harm but sometimes you wish he would just shut up and just follow the policy just for convenience sake+lessen damage. That’s because should any dissatisfaction of decision happens, colleagues will firstly come to interrogate you, hoping you to twist his decision or questioning your ability to lessen the damage done towards merit they/the department holds. AND YOU HATE PLAYING THOSE POWER MIND GAMES, even though the image you impose looked like you are skilled player.) • So there is some sense that being strict is you are trying hard to protect him and protecting yourself. • BTW ONF member, your new superior has a bright personality unlike his predecessor (huge reason is due to the age factor), even though inexperienced in work, he has good be friending skills. So people in the department felt it was less stressful working under him because he would do small talk with his underlings. (This hc is not suitable for Changyoon and Yuto during the beginning, due to their personality they would try but not suddenly initiating small talks on the first week joining.) • IT WILL BE FUNNY IF SOME FEMALE COLLEAGUE TOOK PITY ON HIM BY MENTIONING/GOSSIPING THAT YOU ARE TOO STRICT AGAINST HIM • Its not that you hate him or he does not have the ability to do his work, it’s just when he is standing on the opposing side against company policy it troubles you. • Every time when things like this happens, you would low-key complains by posting status on the chat app, mentioning you don’t hope for an understanding but you would hope those who are not in your shoes would shut up. Your mutuals mostly are office workers as well so resonates with your words. • Your new friend leaves a comment underneath the post you asking if you are doing alright, and hope you do not stress yourself too much. You thanked him for the mental support. • He will even PM you asking if you are doing alright, most of the time you don’t want to lose your cool plus you don’t think it is wise to abruptly rant towards a stranger as if they are emotional sandbag, so you will politely thank him and say that you are alright now. • Since you and your new friend work on the day, you two chat during the night and weekend, getting to know each other in a very casual pace. A bit of child hood and you both also shared your majors in studies. He told you that he used to study at overseas and he picked up hobby of travelling around a bit during those days. • You never turn on the app during lunch (to avoid people finding out) but your new friend does send you some messages during lunchtime. • As you and the new friend get to know each other, there has a few things in common, you two like talking about travels and you two read works by the same author • By the way the new friend is a he. You two are using ID names the whole time during chatting, because you have told him that you are not comfortable giving and knowing each other’s real name. He understands and respects that. • And you confirmed that he is slightly younger than you. Which you replied to him, “Oh my superior is same age as you.” • This new friend gives you a calm and mature vibe even though he is same age as your new superior. You could not help yourself but comparing. • The other party goes: “Wow, he must be a very successfully accomplished youngster.” • You go: “Nah, other than his outgoing personality that brings freshness to the department, he still got lots to learn.” • Your new friend then continues, “Your new superior is a lucky one, I can confidently say that because I have an excellent senior who would always look out for me.” • You respond, “Then you better treat them well.” • And he goes “Of course.”

1-4

• Work is as usual, possible you unintentionally eavesdropping and caught ONF member saying towards you (even better backing you up when some junior colleagues are reverse gossiping about you) : You know, Y/N might look cold and stern sometimes but actually a kind and gentle person. Y/N would always give out advice for the sake of the department/ company. • Cues you would fluster a bit by those words. • A few days later you are done briefing your superior their schedule. And ONF member suddenly ask if you are free for dinner. It’s already his 4th month in the company and wanted to properly thank you for guiding him with patience and prudence. • At first you wanted to decline him because you don’t want to deal with work related stuff after office hours, ALSO you don’t want anyone to start weird gossips. • Another reason is you don’t want to talk about yourself too much in front of your superior. Heck you even avoid your colleague’s invitations for dinner because you value your “me time” very much. • But looking at his anticipating face, you got soft and agreed that a coffee would suffice. ONF member smiles at you suggest both of you to have coffee right now at Starbucks next to your company building. You are free to choose whatever drink you like. • Before both of you leave the room. And then you heard a familiar notification sound, you thought your heart is going to stop, that is the notification sound from the chat app you are using. You did not have your phone with you so it was obvious the sound comes from ONF member’s phone. • And that was a notification alert of the system has found someone nearby and presented to the user. It got you curious and worried at the same time. • At Starbucks, ONF member had to answer a call, so you ordered his drink as well. • Later you see him start replying messages while waiting for orders to be done. You wanted to have a peek at his user name but you are a few steps away and your instinct told you better don’t do that. What if it is already someone you already know? • “Curiosity killed the cat, remember?” You tell yourself. • Once you are at your desk, you took some deep breath to calm yourself and try to remember if you recalled wrongly but truth is you are accurate. You hurriedly checked you phone, there were no new messages and you are sure you have turned off location visibility. Lucky for you it was never turned on to begin with. • You also kind of worried if your superior actually has a “fun” lifestyle after office hours. But, it’s hard to relate him to a playboy image when he looked like a friendly good boy. You shake your head and deny yourself. • “If (ONF member name) uses that app then I will need to be more careful.” you thought while sipping the frappe. So back at home, you started to alter all posts’ visibility to “Visible for mutuals only”. Took you nearly a whole night but better safe than sorry.

1-5 • More weeks pass by peacefully but one day a conflict happened between you and ONF member and some colleagues/minor members of the board. He went ahead to announce that he decides (had a thought) to run a campaign/new rule (maybe a budget cut). The moment he finished his sentences, you know the seniors will not be happy with it. • Later after meeting, you politely confront with ONF member that he should discuss with you before announcing it on meeting. Plus, announcing without any advance preparation will put him and you in an awkward position as verbal announcement are not persuasive enough. Of course you are also worried that people might use this issue to tackle and exploit the cons of both of you being inexperience and young. • “With all due my respect, Mr.(ONF member name), it will be nice if you could discuss with me before dropping that bomb at the meeting.” you try not to sound fierce but your tone clearly does not sound you are cool with his actions at all. • “And later having you lecture me and stop me? You do know it was for the good of the company too right?” He retorts like usual • “Yes but no.” you try to fight back. “ It’s not that easy, there are people need to be dealt with and I don’t think you--” • Before you could finish, ONF member says with an eyebrow raised, “You don’t think I can handle it, because I am still unexperienced.” • You unconsciously frown and thinking, why is he suddenly trying to pick a fight deliberately today? Why is he suddenly trying to piss off seniors in the department/company? • ONF member then with firm tone, gives you suggestion, “Should you have anyone come to you and complain, tell them that you knew nothing at all and request them to talk to me directly instead.” • “I am the CEO, not you.” He adds. • You could not help but sigh, knowing there is not point arguing because he is not going to back down. And deep down you do know the new rule/budget cut will do more merit than harm. (Your focus is more on how deal with seniors employees not him for now because seniors are more pain in the ass compared to him) • But still there are people come to you and bug you while you are working and you can’t tell them to leave you alone hence it stresses you out. • You escape to the bathroom taking your phone with you and vents out at the app by posting a status mentioning you are just trying to do your job and wants a peaceful work days. • You also come across seeing your new friend posting a status prior your meeting time, it’s a photo of frappe you recommended him to try it out. He is thanking you for recommending it. • You could not help but feeling a bit jealous, should your title and work scopes are different/ should you are just normal employee rather than a CEO’s secretary, you might not need to face these kind of stress. • “Guess you have to bear what you signed up for huh?” you thought to yourself after 15 minutes cooling yourself down. • You switched your mind set and step out from bathroom. Returning to your place with your usual ice cold face. You are trying hard not to show that you are weak against stress. You are too immersed at people coming at you asking you questions, without knowing ONF member actually observing you with concerned gaze from his room. • That night, you receive a PM from your new friend asking if you are doing ok, as you never sound that upset before. He said he can lent an ear so you can tell him what happened. You spare him all the intricate details and tell him briefly that your superior made a mess and you need to clean it up also back his plan no matter you like it or not. • The whole progress he did not interrupt you nor tried to tell you what you should do, he let you type all the way until you finished. Once you are done, you asked, “I don’t know what might be up in his sleeves that it’s inconvenient for me to know beforehand but... Isn’t he a jerk, putting me into an awkward situation?” • Your friend backs you up and agrees with you that matters should be discussed, and critiques your superior actually could trust you more. • You thanked your friend for letting you to rant and mentioned you have accepted the fate because of the title and responsibility you hold in the company. That’s being professional and mature in office. • The other party replied that even if that is the case, he hope you don’t stresses yourself too much as it seems your new superior still needs your guidance and support. • You playfully replies, “Well I am not his babysitter XD, he will need to face a lot of issues by his own someday.” • “Why is that?” • “Well I can’t always be by his side though? I might get married and resign.” you reveal your future plans to your new friend, “Moreover, even I don’t resign, I might take pregnancy leave though?” • The other party comments, “I never thought you had that planned out.” • And he continues, “Your profile gives out the ‘I love my job so much.’ vibe” • You then back up your point by saying you do want that plan to work but too bad you are single now, so of course you are going to focus on your job more. Plus, you do not plan to find a partner in work place anyways. • The new friend leaves more supportive words and hoping it will cheer you up. By the end of the conversation, he also offers that you can come to him and rant should you need an ear. • You grin at his words and felt warm towards his actions. Rarely any of your mutual actually PM to check up on you. “Maybe he was just being nice.” you thought before you wish him good night.

1-6 • The next day, you are being summoned by your superior the first thing in the morning. He passes you a pile of documents and requests you to go through it. It a proposal regarding to the budget cut/new rule and he hope you can be his ally. His gaze is not as firm as yesterday, but it’s more of seeking approval and acknowledgement from you. • You let out a sigh and mutters, “You know, should you have hand this to me beforehand the situation won’t be that ugly.” And then you start to flip the pages. • “Sorry.” He apologizes. “But I really want to make it work. It’s also a handover work by my predecessor.” • “You look up upon him too much, ONF member, he is a sly fox just like the other seniors.” You do not mean to back stab but you are telling the truth. “Has it never come to your mind why he did not initiate the plan when he is here and requested you to initiate it when he is gone?” • “I know. But this move is going to benefit the company; I am willing to bear responsibility.” ONF member adds • You stop reading and look at your superior in the eye, “You better hope this work though, I don’t want my 5 months effort of guiding you goes to waste. And I hate the idea that I need to re- adjust my pace with a new superior.” • ONF member gets your intentions behind your words; he swiftly stands up from his chair and thanked you. “I owe you big one, Y/N. Another cup of coffee to thank you for reals?” • “No thanks, I will be busy. Next time.” You feel uncomfortable because the social distance between you two seems shortened, so you politely decline. • Luckily the whole budget cut/new rule policy worked out fine and by year end, benefits shows. You and ONF member can finally relax a bit knowing that you both have won the fight.

1-7 • Meanwhile, you did not stop interacting with your recent favourite friend. As you two got to know each other even more, both of you chat almost every day during the night. He never bores you and he can understand most of the topic you bring up. You are amazed that how can someone has so many things in common? • It spikes your curiosity and you ask him if a wonderful person like him has a partner in real life. He answers you that he is single, just like you are. • (You thought he is lying because he is such a nice guy, but of course you do tell yourself not to 100 percent trust everyone online) • Then he asks your opinion about online virtual dating. You honestly told him about your experience. But you added that even though you failed twice/thrice, you are not against it. • And that moment, you don’t know what has gotten into you, you playfully type, “You are asking my opinion on that as if you are preparing yourself” • “Prepare for what?” he asks • “To get yourself an online girlfriend.” You reply. • His respond reads, “Yes I am.” • “That’s wonderful. That girl you will be confessing is a lucky one.” • “Yea, indeed you are.” • You pause for a moment when you saw the message. • “Wait, you serious? ME??” you quickly send him the message because you thought should you hesitate longer, the mood will turn awkward. • He replies you by sending you a heart emoji. • You give a quick thought, well it is interesting chatting with him and he does seem nice. Plus, it’s online anyway, you could call it off should he becomes toxic and annoying like your previous experiences. • “I wasn’t sure if you are ok with someone like me. “He continues. “I am fine if you want to call it off should you found someone in real life later on.” • “Don’t be silly, that should be my line.” You retort him. • And then you have it, another secret. You have an online boyfriend now. You both even declared each other as a pair of soulmate publicly on the app. But you two did not exchange selfies, keeping the relationship virtual and anonymous. • However you two always share interesting stuffs happen on daily. New book, new cd, a random shot of a puppy or cat you met on the street. • Also before year end, you overheard girl colleagues gossiping about your superior has a girlfriend now; you are not interested at his private life so you just let it slide. • But you did briefly mention it to your boyfriend. Not in a gossip tone, more of a life update share. • Of course there are some girl colleagues that are ok with you comes to you, hoping you leak some information about ONF member’s rumoured girlfriend. But of course you know nothing at all, leaving them with disappointed answer. • Fast forward to the week before Valentine’s Day. It is also 10th month since ONF member joins the company. • Out of the sudden, your online boyfriend suggests you two to meet up. You are not against it, and it’s not like you never met anyone you know from the app. Thinking why not knowing a new friend in real life, you agreed his offer. (Also because you are curious what he looks like so that you can understand why he was single before dating you) • You even inquired his preference in chocolate and promise bringing him some on official first date. • Your boyfriend thanks you and suggests a place for dinner. You knew that place, it’s expensive and you could not help but wondering if he is trying hard to match you. (You still thinks he is just a normal employee in a company) • But, your boyfriend only replies: “Don’t worry, it is the perfect spot, I could not think of others that are suitable to our taste.” • You can only acknowledge it because you don’t want to have an argument to blow up but deep down you could not help yourself to start doubting again. • “It’s going to be Ok, right?” you question your decision, but it’s too late.

1-8 • On Valentine’s Day, younger female colleagues in your office give out chocolate treats to younger male colleagues as friendship presents, some of course using the occasion to confess. • You don’t have the habit of presenting chocolate treats as a token of friendship appreciation at the office. But you are giving your date chocolate treat later; you hid yours in your bag carefully scared of being teased should anyone saw it. • ONF member gets some too. One female colleague even teases him if he is going to get chocolate from his girlfriend. And ONF member replies that he might get it later that night. • Of course ONF member will asks you for chocolate treat with an innocent face, you just bluntly tell him that you don’t have the habit to give out chocolate treats, he only pouts after listening to your respond. • By the way today you unintentionally changed your makeup (lipstick or eyeshadow). No one dared to make any comments but not your superior, ONF member. • He goes: “Y/N ah? Did something good happen on you? Are you going to a date tonight?” • You are typing quick report and his words caught you off guard. You flinched at his words. Hoping ONF member did not notice, you quickly lied by telling him simply ran out of your usual makeup colour. • But your superior teases you a bit, “Aww, I was hoping I could attend your wedding in near future. “ • You have gotten used to his socializing pattern, so you counter him by asking if he is going to bring his girlfriend to have a nice dinner at a grand restaurant. • And to your surprise, he revealed the place he will be having dinner with his partner. It’s the same place where you are heading to later. He had a special room booked exclusively for tonight’s date. • “Oh, Oh… Have fun and enjoy your dinner.” You force yourself to break a smile. • ONF member only smirks at you and gives you a few pats on your shoulders and says he will have an unforgettable night before returning to his room. Leaving you questioning the meaning of his actions that are unpredictable but also definitely intentional. • Of course you had a quick thought asking your boyfriend if it is possible to change location, you could not bring yourself to ask as you are worried you might sound rude/arrogant trying to change plans on the last minute. You deduced that since ONF member will be having dinner in a room, you might not going to bump into him. You and your boyfriend can just finish dinner quickly. • You could not have that bother you too much time because you need to finish your report so that you can leave on time. Once it reaches the end of office hours, the others started to leave. You made up a plan to leave after ONF member leaves the office. You keep raising your gaze to have a slight peek towards your superior’s room. • Seeing him finally standing up from his chair and adjusting his suit. You can tell he is finally leaving. He passes through your desk and asks, “Y/N ah, please don’t tell me you are planning to work overtime during this special day?” • You only smiles and tell him you are going to finish soon, “Don’t you have a dinner to attend?” you remind him without looking at him, acting as if you are typing the remaining contents of your report. • “Yea I do. See ya.” ONF member waves you goodbye. • You leave the office after 10 minutes. (As for method of transport to the restaurant, I will leave it to your choice.)

1-9 • You reach the building of the restaurant. You let out a sigh, hesitating to step in nonchalantly knowing ONF member is inside there as well. The least thing you definitely do not want to happen is ONF member finding you having a dinner date tonight. It’s embarrassing and it will break the balance of your work and private life. • While you are pacing in front of the building with hesitation, you receive a chat notification from the app. You open it and it was your boyfriend, notifying you that he has arrived, and he reminds you the restaurant located at 38th floor. • You nervously bite your lower lip knowing it’s too late and it is rude of you to cancel the date on last minute. He was a decent person to chat with and you don’t want to lose a good friend. You are blaming yourself for agreeing to attend this date too casually. And you also find yourself way too wary of your virtual boyfriend’s thoughts towards you should you now called him to cancel the date. • Then you heard a familiar voice called out your name and you turn your head towards the voice unconsciously. It’s ONF member, walking out from the building. You flustered and panicked by just imagining scenarios of him asking why you are here and other many more questions. • “OMG…. Shit shit shit….!” You cursed in your head, regretting your life decisions. Recalling the entire chat context between you two, this might be the worst thing ever to happen in your life. • He is grinning while reaching out to grasp your hand. You unintentionally try to back away from him but he was faster. You tried to pull your hand away but he pulls you toward him instead. You nearly bumped towards his chest. • “Y/N ah, I told you its 38th floor; you did not get my message?” ONF member asks as his smirks widens. • As he finished his words, you only look at the young guy in front of you with disbelief, processing his words. Seeing you froze due to the big plot twist, ONF member taps you on your forehead hoping to unfreeze you. • “It can’t be…You are (ONF member’s ID in the app)?! “You exclaim. • “Yeap.” He responds. • “Impossible…How?” you ask. “How did you know it was me?” • “At first I had my doubt when I first saw an old post of yours. You shot a sunset pic from our office floor by the window near the lift right?” he returns with another question. And man he is good at remembering details. • “Then I confirmed that it was you by the time I announced budget cut/new rules for the company/department. ” he explains • “I…” You could not bring yourself to say anything, but you are not an idiot, “(ONF member name), did you risked your reputation in the company just to find out a stranger’s real identity?” • “No, I did not, I swear. I initiated the plan to suddenly announce the budget cut because I want to find out which board seniors will make a move to cover up themselves, as requested from my predecessor.” He knows you well to sense that you are angry, and he quickly denied. “I only know it was you when I checked up on you. Since then I have been dropping so many hints for you to realize, but it seems like you are the dense one here.” • You can tell he is telling the truth. • “This is absurd…” you mutter while placing your hand on your forehead. • ONF member let out a sigh and he shifts behind you, places his hands on your shoulders then pushes you forward. “Come on, I am starving we can talk about it later, you did not had a decent meal during lunch as well right?” • He is right, you only had a mini croissant during lunchtime.

• You follow him without a word to the entrance of the building and enter the lift to 38th floor. ONF member has booked a nice room that both of you can enjoy the city’s night view.

1-10 • It was a luxurious dinner but you are not in the mood enjoying it. In fact you are so stressed that you could not even taste your food. You did not touch your dessert at all. • You only quietly trace the shape of wine glass in front of you while looking at the night view, hoping the night to pass quickly. • “You are not happy with me being your date, Y/N?” he suddenly asks. • You jolted and you finally look at him in the eye for the first time tonight. • “You startled me, I am still trying to grasp the situation here.” You reply him with a low voice, trying to act calm by casually bring your drink closer to you and hydrates your throat. • “Hey Y/N-ah, I know you mentioned before that you don’t like the idea of dating someone from the office, but…” his eyes are fixed on you. “I like you. Not just the virtual you, but also the real you.” • “I called you a jerk.” You know you should not bring it up, but you still did. • “Which I did act like one so, no hard feelings.” He accepted. “I am truly sorry about that, I was trying to prove myself way too hard.” • Now it got awkward since he apologized without any complaints. You don’t know what to say and avert your gaze again. • “You know, Y/N ah, when you are stressed, you tend to avoid other people’s eye contact. “he breaks the silence. “And you are doing that ever since you reached here.” • Upon hearing his words, you flinched and exchange eye contact with the young man sitting in front of you. • “And oh, and you flinch as well.” He adds, “Which is very adorable in my opinion.” • “(ONF member’s name), I …” you try to explain yourself but he cuts you off. • “It alright, you don’t have to push yourself, I have made you stressed out way too much today.” ONF member smiles at you while saying based on what he observed. • He finally stands up and offers to send you home. You could not decline him because you felt terribly sorry for ruining such as nice date. • “I am sorry, should it is another girl, it will be a terrific night for you.” You apologized before leaving his car. • “Don’t worry; it is an unforgettable night for me.” He responds with his usual smile. • Back at your place, you are frustrated that the night ended up in an awkward and weird way. You only noticed that you did not get to hand him the chocolate treats as promised. • You cannot sleep that night, gazing at the chocolate treats as you holding the package in your hands. You cannot tell if you messed up or you are lucky that he happened to like you. • You wanted to consult a random mutual of yours but you hesitated. Because at this point you are not sure if you actually have the full grasp on the situation. And you don’t want a biased reply. • “It’s just this boyfriend of yours happened to be him, I guess?” you murmur to yourself. But that did not clear up your mind enough for you to make any decision towards the situation. • Several days passed, ONF member did not send any message to you in the chat app. He acted like usual back in office, but it does not look like he has any intention to talk about what happen between you two either. • (The problem is you cannot look at him in the eye) • You are troubled if you should initiate the first move. It’s not like you hate him, you never did in the first place, it’s just he annoys you sometimes. • Then you overheard ONF member having small talk with colleagues, and they ask about his Valentine’s Day. He only replies it was an unforgettable night and he is glad that he is able to meet his girlfriend, it was better than never meeting her at all.

1-11 • From his words, you gain a bit of courage and decided to make your first move. • The next day you arrived at the office earlier than usual, you take out something from you bag and places small gift box on ONF member’s desk. The small box has a memo attached to it. • You hurried back to your desk, acted as if nothing happened while the office starts have more and more colleagues coming in. ONF member arrives later on and he greets you before heading in his room. • You take some quick glances, making sure ONF member notices your belated Valentine’s day gift. • He did noticed and read the memo you attached, then he made a confused look but he adjusts his facial expression immediately as he sees you stood up from your place. • You head to his office room to brief his morning schedule. Like usual, you step into his room, closes the door and starts the briefing. ONF member stares at you with a puzzled expression while sitting on his chair. • Once you done your part and you ask him if he has any schedules to add into the list, he places the gift box into your view and pushes it towards you. • “What do you mean by this?” he inquires. • “I promised you chocolate for Valentine’s day, sorry I was late.” You purposely answer him the wrong information. “ Don’t worry I made a brand new ones.” • “You know I meant this.” He pulls out the memo has his eyes fixed on you. • The memo wrote, “(ONF member’s ID), Let’s call it off --- (Your ID)” • “That’s how it is.” You tried not to break into a smile, you are getting your revenge and this is fun. “You are the one who said you are fine to call it off if either one of us found someone in real life right?” • ONF member pauses for a moment, his eyes wandering then he admits he did say that. • “Well you found someone in real life, so there is not point for us to continue virtual dating on the app anymore right?” you slightly let out a victorious smirk as you ask him. • ONF member finally gets what you mean and he let out a smile. He puts down the memo and pushes himself up from his chair and walks towards you. • Thankfully the design of his room is made up of walls, once the wooden door is closed; no one knows what happens inside. • “So, you are fine with us dating in real life then?” You can feel his breath as he is only one step away from you. This time you are not going to back away and you look at him straight in the eyes. • “I will need to adjust a bit. You have a problem with me being your girlfriend?” you reply with him with another question. • ONF member unconsciously let out another smile, he quickly hides it with his hand, “No, not at all…” and those were the words you can hear coming out from him • “That settles it then.” You widen your grin towards him before turning around ready to leave his office. • But you are being pulled back by a pair of arms. Your back come contact to his chest area. He is hugging you from behind you. • “Seriously, I don’t get you.” He low key complains. “I thought you are going to hate me for real this time.” • “I was going to, you did not texted me and you acting like nothing happened after that night.” You pout as you explain to him. “I thought I have ended my career the moment you told me who you are. And who would have thought a decent CEO would date someone randomly they met in a online chatting app?” • “I am sorry; I thought leaving you unbothered for some time so that you don’t get stressed out.” You could tell from his tone he does feel apologetic. He never sounds like that before during work.

• "But I am dead serious on trying to start a proper relationship with you that’s why I suggested for us to meet up.” he continues. “Glad you felt the same.”

• You freed yourself from his hug and turn to him. • “Now listen, (ONF member’s name), as we are professionals, I do hope you understand that there is a clear line between work and private life.” You remind him. “Just because we are dating now, does not mean that I am going to let you off easily if you messed up during work, ok?.” • “Man, I don’t think I will ever win you huh?” ONF member only look at you affectionately and continues, “As you wish, my beloved assistant/secretary.”

A/N : the concludes for this oneshot headcanon fic should there are more ideas I might write a continuation about this pair for a part 2. Also thinking of linking the universe with MInkyun Florist AU, just a maybe.

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gear-project · 3 years ago

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4Gamer.net GGST Interview with Daisuke Ishiwatari and Akira Katano!

4Gamer.net Interview with Akira Katano/Daisuke Ishiwatari

Translation: Yours truly! (Gear-Project)

4Gamer:

Thanks for your Time today. In less than a month, the game will go on sale June 11th, so please tell us your current feelings. *(Note: Interview was held on May 18th.)*

Ishiwatari [I]:

Normally, the development would be over, and I think that it's still a feeling of "please play this everyone", but for us the release date is over. Instead, I think it's all in the timing of the beginning. It's a feeling of what to do in the future.

Katano [K]:

You can see from the point when the 2nd Open Beta was conducted (May 14th to 16th), we are still developing and verifying everything. Of course, we will continue to adjust the game even after it is released, but for the time being, we are working hard to provide a full-package game that will satisfy our users on the release date.

4Gamer: This work was originally scheduled for release on April 9th, but the release date was extended to June 11th. Could you elaborate on the reasons for the delay?

Biggest reason was that we received a lot of opinions about the processing and specifications around the Network. It took some time to meet those demands.

4Gamer: Didn't you get an opinion on the battle balance?

Of course, there are also those aspects. In the open beta, we were observing the movements of various players throughout distribution, etc. and receieved many opinions. I think it was a necessary measure to aim for something more ideal.

4Gamer: The 2nd open beta test was conducted on May 14th. How was the response from the players here?

In a phrase: pros and cons. It was more pronounced than the first beta.

4Gamer: How about from a developer's point of view?

K: I feel that it was meaningful to conduct the open beta test again before the release. Around online, a server error occurred even during the second beta, which caused trouble for the players, but it was great that we could confirm the cause before the release and fix it, I think.

Also, regarding the battle system, there were some elements that changed in fundamental areas from the first and second beta. There was both positive and negative opinions from the players about them. As for what kind of adjustment will be provided on the release date? I'm glad that I had the opportunity to consider it again.

4Gamer: I also played in the 2nd Open Beta Test, but I felt that there were quite extreme adjustments in terms of battle balance from the 1st. Was that intentionally made extreme?

K: If I said it was intentional, it may be a little misleading. However, to be honest, there was a part that was adjusted to the point that the product version would NOT be as extreme.

4Gamer: When that happens, there's a possibility that the product version will be considerably adjusted from the 2nd Open Beta version.

K: At this point, we are aware that we CANNOT sell the product as it is. After analyzing all the contents and feedback of each of the 1st and 2nd sessions, we will continue to make adjustments up to the last minute, aiming for the final product version.

4Gamer: By the way, what was the most popular request from the players at the end of the first session?

Most common area was around the Lobby.

Most of the opinions were that the lobby was difficult to use and it was difficult to play against each other. The development team also participated in the beta test from the users' point of view and agreed with everyone, so I felt that it was necessary to fundamentally revise the revision before the release.

4Gamer:

In terms of battle balance, there were many opinions that the aerial options were too strong in the first test. In the second test, I feel that some extreme adjustments were made, such as shortning the flight distance of jump, adding landing recovery after aerial actions, and strengthening anti-air attacks.

As I mentioned earlier, it's certain that we've made some extreme adjustments (for the 2nd test).

4Gamer: When I actually played it, I felt the degree of freedom around aerial moves was reduced compared to last time.

To be clear, it was cramped. We recognized that as well. After analyzing user feedback, we are currently deciding where to land.

Regarding the dissatisfaction with the actions side, we expected that such a voice would come out. However, there was a possibility that something I didn't notice might come in to view, so I decided to steer a lot this time.

4Gamer:

It was quite literally a 'test'. By the way, I think that the past GUILTY GEAR Series was mainly about aerial combat. Is it the idea where you wanted to emphasize ground warfare because you dared to reduce jumping?

I'm not sure because it's free to play (the beta), but I'd like you to think so. One of the problems with the previous Guilty Gear was that it was attractive for 'free aerial combat' and the difficulty there was too high. It's a recognition that it's too difficult for new players to come in.

Difficulty of operation included aerial battle, combo length, etc. had to be remade to some extent for new players and alleviated. The result of a comprehensive review of these is the current form.

However, I don't want you to misunderstand that just because the difficult part was simplified does not mean that it has become easier as a fighting game. I think the game has become more severe in the bargaining part as the risk in actions has increased. (GP's note: yes, very Samurai-Shodown-like).

I've always wanted to make the first step of the stairs easier to touch and play, but I don't think it's easy as a game design. We are designing with the hope of providing "Guilty Gear-ness" that integrates the difficulties and severity that are different from previous series.

The story of aerial warfare is the same, and I don't want to make jumps separately. We would like to provide free bargaining and technicality that makes use of the aerial behavior that is unique to "Guilty Gear", however, since the past work was like this, it is NOT the idea that it should be so this time as well. (It doesn't have to be the same as last time, in other words.)

[The balance is "wild adjustment" emphasis on fun, not strength.]

4Gamer:

Please tell us about character adjustments. Is there a direction or guideline for overall adjustment? In the 1st and 2nd tests, it was Potemkin that was adjusted in an easy-to-understand manner, and I felt that a lot of elements were weakened.

Regarding adjustments, first of all, we value the character's strengths, charm, and fever points. For example, the Potemkin of this work is designed so that the command throwing Potemkin Buster can do unprecedented damage. This part has not changed since the last test.

As with the previous Potemkin, there was a fact that he was a grappling character, but he was strong "without" throwing. Therefore, I try to reconstruct that part to push out the charm of a grappling character.

4Gamer:

If you are attracted to grapplers, it would be nice to have a lot of charm in throwing techniques. By the way, do you have any idea/plans to intentionally add elements that the users may be looking for when making adjustments?

No, this work provides a new starting line, so I try not to be aware of it as much as possible (ouch!). To be honest, I can't say that there is none at all. However, the word "user" ultimately refers to the player who has played the past work, so instead of intentionally approaching it, the emphasis is on preparing a new concept and designing weapons and weaknesses. I put that down and make it.

In past works, there were some contradictions, such as a long-distance character with strong close combat, and a throwing character with strong attacks. We are developing to match the character concept that we and the player think of so that people who start from this work will not be confused.

In addition, although the term "wild adjustment" has been used for some time, when making the adjustments, the emphasis is on "whether it is interesting or not" rather than the parts that are strong or weak. Anyway, sharpen the sharp part and drop the parts to be dropped. It's like getting paid.

As Ishiwatari says, in the end, fun is more important than balance. Therefore, I don't want to sharpen the charm and weapons of the character. In addition, it is often desirable to adjust the upper features to strengthen the whole, but I do not think that it is correct that as a result of strengthening, many characters who can do anything will be born.

However, in the past works, as the series progressed, there were times when quite a few characters became versatile. Because it's a game with a long history, elements that make up for weaknesses were often added.

There was also the aspect that being able to do anything would lead to the individuality of the player.

The starting line for the adjustment was what to do with this work, taking into account the historical facts as they were, regardless of whether it was good or bad.

4Gamer:

Please tell us about the Netcode. In this work, ARC's original rollback netcode was adopted. How was the response on the development side in the 2nd Open Beta Test?

It's not that there were no problems at all, but I think that the overall results were very good. In particular we received very positive opinions from overseas players. There may have been many players who were dissatisfied with the delay method.

There are FOUR time differences in the United States! (lol time zones)

It's not comfortable in Japan and Brazil, but it's now possible to enjoy a comfortable match in Japan and South Korea, or in the United States. I feel a great response from the development.

4Gamer:

With Rollback netcode, it seems possible to realize online battle events in remote areas. For example, it may be interesting to carry out regional competitions that were held during the heyday of arcades.

I don't think young players today know that there was a regional competition. Since we are from an Arcade Field, we want to know more about the Arcade Culture.

I think that the goodness, enthusiasm, and enjoyment of the events we held at arcades in the past will surely be passed on to the new generation and must be passed on. This is true for all fighting game events. I think there are many cultures and merits of the community that only people who have been playing fighting games for a long time know, and I haven't been able to convey them to the new generation. I want to deliver the charm of fighting games in a new way.

[Season Pass Adds 5 people, including completely new characters!]

4Gamer: Next, please tell us about your character. We were able to use 15 characters in the 2nd Open Beta Test. will this be all the characters at the time of launch?

That's right.

4Gamer: Anji Mito hasn't participated since the Guilty Gear XX Series. Was Anji Mito scheduled to appear from the beginning of development?

No, he was just one of the candidates. As with any work, even right down to the last frame, the characters will still be a worry until it's finalized.

Regarding Anji Mito, it was planned that we would pick a character who did not appear in the Guilty Gear Xrd Series, and I remember that's what decided it.

I really want to put out more characters. The more characters there are in a fighting game, the more fun it is. In that sense, I would like to provide you with new characters as soon as possible. (Ishiwatari wants a HUGE roster, hah!)

I have a desire to have all the characters that appeared previously in the series. As always, I'm sorry for the fans of the characters who have been waiting for us.

4Gamer:

Who is the most difficult character to select among the 15 characters?

First of all, there was a concept that we wanted to release the initial characters of the first GUILTY GEAR, and so 9 character slots were filled. All of the following 6 characters were a concern, so I don't think anyone was the best.

4Gamer:

Leo and Ramlethal are characters from the Guilty Gear Xrd Series, so some fans were surprised to participate in the conflict.

For those who are playing from Guilty Gear Xrd, I was thinking of releasing either Ramlethal or Elphelt, which are the representative characters, from the beginning. But this time, Ramlethal was chosen.

For the fans of Guilty Gear Xrd, I wanted to bring out the recognized characters rather than making them completely different. However, with Leo I really didn't bother so much, because I wanted to put him out there.

Since it was decided to implement Story Mode, whether or not it was a character that appeared in the story had some influence on the character selection. Although the cost is different between the battle and the story, since it is based on the same character model, there was talk of wanting to make some characters in the story playable.

It feels a little strange that you can't use the characters that are active in the story in the first place.

In that sense, Leo is a character that is quite involved in the story.

4Gamer:

Who are your favorite characters, Mr. Ishiwatari and Mr. Katano?

Nagoriyuki. I like his visuals and performance, and if I'm playing, I'll definitely pick him.

I will be Sol this time. The finish is selfish, and I feel that the character settings and performance match.

As with all characters, after throwing away the battle image so far and thinking about how to fight like Sol, that's the end result. Each character in this work has a situation that they are good at, and if you bring it into the situation, you will be able to demonstrate strength that can be said to be somewhat unreasonable.

4Gamer:

Mr. Katano mentioned earlier that he likes Nagoriyuki, and in this sense he is a rushdown character, I feel the image fits him perfectly.

It may be easy to understand the timing when a strong rush is set along with other weaknesses. However, this is something that all characters are aware of, not just Nagoriyuki. If you can prepare your favorite situation individually for each character, it will be established as a fighting game in which various types of characters fight.

Of course, it may be compatible with the character, but I don't think it is necessary to forcibly flatten them.

4Gamer:

In the popularity poll held the other day, Ramlethal was the most popular in all regions at home and abroad.

To be honest, it was really surprising.

Ramlethal dominated 1st place, but Giovnna and Nagoriyuki were also in the top. Since the popularity polls in the Guilty Gear Series always have major characters like Sol and Ky at the top, it is interesting that the characters who participated during Guilty Gear Xrd were selected at the top.

4Gamer:

Please tell us about the designs of the new characters. What kind of concepts did Nagoriyuki and Giovanna come from?

Visuals of Nagoriyuki came from the forefront of the story. I'd say that I drew what came to mind as it was, and the pencil ran on its own. On the contrary, Giovanna had a lot of problems. Because of her profession as a Secret Service bodyguard for the President, I couldn't design her too eccentrically, and in a sense I settled on a character that didn't look like a GUILTY GEAR character.

It was a nice miscalculation for her to get into the top of the popularity poll.

4Gamer:

Regarding the design, does the visual come from the character settings? Or is there a reverse pattern?

It's already case by case. Sometimes it's born with settings, sometimes it's because I wanted a character that looks like this. For example, with regard to Giovanna, the unique silhouette of wearing wide pants is characteristic, but this came to mind even before the image of Giovanna was created.

Our team may always be thinking about how to make a particular silhouette or action look cool. Speaking of Nagoriyuki, there was a strong desire to express the behavior of a sword master in a cool way.

The movement of the blood attacks along the sword, we call the movement a blood swing, we think we produced a cool movement with it.

The current team is unique, and that kind of story comes first. I want to make my blood look cool, so I'm trying to implement this kind of motion. I don't see this kind of thing on other teams.

4Gamer:

The image of Faust has changed significantly compared to the old character.

In the first place, the idea was to renew all the characters to the extent that the image was not spoiled. Faust is a character characterized by comical actions, but many of its sources are only familiar to Japanese people. There was still a part that seemed to be a drifter to expand globally (laughs). As a result of his image and backbone being made to live in an interesting way, it became the current visual.

4Gamer:

Regarding characters, it was announced that 5 people will be added in the first Season Pass. How long until this will be added? Also, do you plan to add some characters from completely new or old works?

We will not be able to give a specific character name by the time it is released, but we plan to announce when it will be added. Five people have already been decided, and I would like to release them as soon as possible!

I always try to add one or more completely new characters to the five.

[The story of Sol that started from the first GUILTY GEAR is now complete.]

4Gamer:

Speaking of the Guilty Gear Series, songs and BGM are also highly evaluated. Is Mr. Ishiwatari in charge of them in this work as well?

I leave the BGM production for the story mode to someone else, but I composed all the vocal songs for the fighting game part.

4Gamer:

Is there anything you are conscious of when composing?

In this work, I have abandoned what I had been conscious of before. I used to think that if this song was played during a battle, it would be an emotional scene, but I didn't dare be aware of that. The emphasis was on the backbone of the characters, projecting their drama more intensely than before.

This time, the theme of the character, including the lyrics, is strongly featured. At the moment, only a part of it is open to everyone, so please look forward to it.

4Gamer:

Who will your favorite song belong to?

I really like Ramlethal's song, and I have decided to make this song the title of the album. She is a character who recognizes "Necessary Waste", and in a sense, it is close to the theme of GUILTY GEAR. I decided that her theme would be suitable for the title of the album.

I especially like Leo's Song, but all the songs have different charms. I want you to listen carefully after the release.

4Gamer:

Tell us about the Story. In this work, it is said that the relationship between "That Man" (Asuka R. Kreutz) and Sol will be settled, but as a story, will it be the curtain once here?

As far as I can tell, the story of a "man named Sol" will draw to an end. A Story Mode has been prepared from the Guilty Gear Xrd Series, and Sol has developed in the story as the Main Character. In this work, he talks about what kind of answer he will give to the world in the wake of the incident that started from the past work in simple words. I'm really curious about how you'll feel. So I'd love to hear from you.

In addition, the story mode of this work changes the expression method. Where Guilty Gear Xrd (Sign) was the format of an adventure game (visual novel), Xrd Revelator was an animation (anime style), but this time it looks like a movie (fully animated film).

The other day, I released a part of the story mode, but there are opinions that it looks like a movie as intended.

Originally, I was particular about how the 3D looks like an animation and how comfortable it is, but this time I'm using 3D to incorporate cinematic techniques and camera angles.

With Guilty Gear Xrd, the flow was to make 3D look like a 2D animation, whether it was a battle or a story. In this work, we have evolved it into a powerful expression that makes the most of 3D.

4Gamer:

I think it was refreshing because the camera work during the battle sometimes switched to an angle that was not found in past games.

We are repeating the verification on the part of whether coolness and fun as a game can be compatible.

This is also the part that I have been searching for all this time.

However, whenever I decided to adopt a new and cool angle, I became worried. I used to go back to the 2D method when I was at a loss.

In this work, the scene change does not change mechanically, but the camera follows the movement of the character. Knowing that the core fighting game fans would criticize me, the idea was that this was the only time to go on an adventure.

Of course, after going through the beta test, I would try to correct the Overkill.

4Gamer:

It is said that the story of Sol will be completed, but people think that Guilty Gear will end.

I can't give you a specific story, but I have a plan in mind for future developments. It may be after or before the story of Sol, but I'm thinking about how the story of GUILTY GEAR will unfold. This isn't about making or not making games, it's about notes in your head.

4Gamer: --That will continue.

That's what Ishiwatari always says, but it's difficult to express (laughs).

It's a boring story, but since GUILTY GEAR is a very important IP for us, we can't just cut it off. However, it is certain that this work will make a break for the time being.

I think that the parts that were not told in this story will be complemented in other ways.

Earlier, Mr. Yasuhiro Naito, the creator of "Trigun" that I was with at an American event said, "It's better to finish things than to make them." I've always thought that I had to complete it properly.

Fans have told me that this work will never end.

It's over properly (laughs). I've been thinking about the theme of the story from the beginning, and it's still the same. To all the fans, please look forward to it!

4Gamer:

Please tell us if you have any plans for pre-launch or post-launch events or e-sports development.

We will release new information before the release, and we plan to hold tournament events that players can enjoy and events that a wide range of players can enjoy even after the release.

I would like to hold a new type of event that suits the current situation. Offline events are easy for us from arcades to get together and enjoy, but I think there are some parts that were difficult for those who weren't.

For the past three years, I've been desperate to make games, so I'd like to do that as well. I would like to develop something that can be enjoyed with the players.

4Gamer:

Finally, do you have a message for the fans who are looking forward to the release of this work?

This work was created with an emphasis on playability and ease of entry for those who touch it for the first time. However, I have never made it shallow as a fighting game. We have prepared the elements that we should work on and the world that we can see beyond. It will be operated for a long time, so all players can experience it.

Rather than being a continuation of the GUILTY GEAR SERIES, it was created with the aim of being a completely new fighting game. I think that even new players can enjoy it, so I hope you will be interested and touch it.

And in this work, one episode of the long Guilty Gear Series will be completed. I think that we have been able to deliver something neat to those who have followed the story for a long time, so please look forward to the ending. In addition, for those who come into contact with the world of Guilty Gear from this work, we have prepared movies and manga of the past series on the official website and YouTube. I hope you will check this out as well and enjoy it.

4Gamer:

Thank you both for your time today. (May 18th, 2021)

#GG Interviews #Akira Katano #Daisuke ishiwatari #4Gamer.net

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casualarsonist · 3 years ago

Text

Postal 2 review

Postal 2 was released right in the middle of what should have been my prime teenage-edgelord years, but while it’s had a resurgence in popularity due to nostalgia, returning to it, the game strikes me now exactly as it did then - a forgettable and borderline broken, amateurish piece of software that was crowded out of all but the most fringe playerbases by other, better, more interesting games.

Postal 2 is Hatred, if Hatred mistakenly thought it was funny - it was a try-hard attempt at outrunning South Park in a race no-one was watching. The irony is that in hindsight South Park turned out to be tedious fence-sitting ‘all sides are equally stupid’ takes from a pair of moron Gen Xers who thought that not having a strong opinion about anything was cool and were also responsible for mass-marketing anti-semitism to an entire generation. It was seen as edgy and provocative in the 2000s, and now it’s laughed at for its rigid, pointed adherence to committing nothing of value to any issue. And in trying to out-do Parker and Stone the developers of Postal 2 shackled themselves to the exact same sinking ship.

The game is…not great. It’s ugly, and poorly put-together. There are constant issues with controls and soundtrack - you can hear the audio clicking repeatedly in the opening minutes of the game because whoever did the sound design stitched together a bunch of stock sound effects and didn’t crossfade the adjoining tracks. The same 3 second soundbite of a bird repeats endlessly - noticeable because it is the only sound playing as you tour through the town. And while there is something to be said for the effort put into programming all the systems that go towards simulating the mundanity of everyday life (and towards your disruption of that mundanity with a can of gasoline and a box of matches), this was an indie game with a certain amount of ambition developed before crowdfunding could turn these games into something worth playing. It’s tedious, but not in the way the developers intended - it’s tedious mechanically, like playing in a small, ugly, sadistic sandbox. The most interesting thing you discover about it is that doing everyday tasks like shopping for milk, and burning everyone in the town alive, are actions that get boring at exactly the same rate as one another.

That said, I think there’s a certain amount of accidental Tom Green-esque avant-garde nihilism in the absurdity of this game. It’s kind of funny to watch the 'Parents For Decency’ whip out pistols and try to murder every member of the Running With Scissors development team because they don’t like their violent games. That’s genuine satire - it actually says something real, and, because the 'think of the children’ groups are usual comprised of wealthy conservatives trying to avoid caring about actual tangible suffering in the world, the commentary kicks upwards at a group that will otherwise avoid any punishment for their hypocrisy. The icing on the cake is that you can then choose to kill them in self-defence, proving that you’re exactly the thing they were protesting. Postal 2 has something to say occasionally. Very occasionally. But then give it a few hours and you’re murdering dozens of shrieking racist stereotypes of Afghanis that all look like Osama Bin Laden.

If you kill 30 people from every type of skin colour you get an achievement called 'Sheriff Arpaio would be proud’. I had to google his name because I thought he he was a mass murderer with some kind of pointedly indiscriminate political agenda. Nope - he was a white Sheriff in Arizona who specifically profile non-white people in one of the most widespread examples of open racism in American law enforcement since segregation was made ‘illegal’. And given recent history, that’s saying something. He alone cost the taxpayers of his one county $140 million dollars via lawsuits brought against him. The fucking U.S. Justice Department sued him. If I hadn’t researched that I wouldn’t have realised he was actually a massive racist asshole who specifically targeted Hispanics and black people, because Running With Scissors made a false equivalence in their throwaway gag that just happens to mislead the player about the racist crimes of the person they’re referencing. 'Sheriff Arpaio would be proud’…because it was a numbers game? Yes, that’s what he liked. Persecuting *everyone* - as many people as possible, and not one very specific demographic of people.

I’m not saying that this stupid joke intentionally whitewashes the racism of its namesake, and I’m not saying that this, coupled with the developers’ portrayal of Middle Eastern people as homogenous terrorists screaming gibberish through the singular face of a mass murderer is in any way an explicit demonstration of their edgelord racist worldview. I’m not saying that, in the same that I’m not saying that a crack-smoking, dog-kicking, wife-abusing, spree-killer living in a trailer in any way reflects their perspective towards the poor, and that this entire game is one big middle-finger to everything the developers personally dislike. I’m saying that there’s a marked difference between forcing players to kill brown people because they’re all terrorists and forcing players to kill white people because they’re vegetarians. Or have red hair. Jesus that was such a 2003 joke wasn’t it?

At the very least, the panel of people who mindmapped the ideas that came together to form the foundational commentary of Postal 2 are dumb as dogshit, and the end result of that is 'whoopsie we’re slaughtering dozens of Muslims ho ho ho the Indian food store has Afghani suicide bombers in it all these people are the same skin colour Sheriff Arpaio did a bad thing to *lots of different people!*’

Isn’t it interesting that a game touted as a free-for-all and remembered for it’s 'all sides are bad’ South Park-esque 'sick of the system’ worldview actually depicts its town exactly from the perspective of one very specific demographic of people - the single most represented demographic in the American population: middle-class straight white male Gen Xers who feel disenfranchised but are also ardently pro-America, hate the poor despite not being wealthy themselves, hate the rich for being richer than them, hate 'rednecks’ for being too uncivilised, hate 'conservatives’ for being too stuck-up, and hate liberals for not fitting into a stuck-up conservative worldview. When you think of yourself as the lone, correct singularity trapped in the centre of a world filled with people who are wrong because they care too much about things you don’t like to think about, literally every other person on the planet becomes a potential threat. Your life is given meaning by the feeling of persecution this constant target on your back brings. And it’s a lot easier to take your anger out on a toothless social group than to comprehend your own lack of identity - to make fun of 'gingers’ and vegetarians like you were born yesterday rather than do anything legitimately rebellious or anti-establishment. Particularly if your specific demographic is the one nearly all media is catered towards. Movies are telling you that you’re the hero, but your miserable job tells you that you’re just a rube. Who’s to blame? Don’t bother thinking about it, because you might end up on a crusade, and you don’t want to be like those losers who keep going on about their problems. Make a game in which you kill all those people instead. That’ll teach em.

Postal 2 is the kind of stand-up comic that gets heckled for telling an offensive joke and then threatens to shoot-up the audience if they won’t stop booing him. It was made - poorly even for the time - by a bunch of clowns playing to the easiest possible audience: white edgelords. It’s a power fantasy for people who don’t have anything meaningful to fight for, so they fight gingers. Y'know, because South Park did it. Nazis are funny, gingers are bad. Everyone is wrong, stick to the middle. The middle of a spectrum. The middle of the road. The middle of a river as it sweeps you out to sea. It’s all the same.

2/10

#postal 2 #rws #running with scissors #fps #pc #video game #review #edgelord garbage

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polaristranslations · 3 years ago

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The Twelfth Box

■ ■

Well, we've come a long way, but my story is finally reaching its climax—however, as for what lessons you'll take away from this story, I do not know. Calling it a lesson might be a bit of an exaggeration, but a tale, no matter its nature—as long as it is a tale told from one person to another—is a conversation. Even if the listener is listening in silence while the speaker is speaking, I believe it is still a conversation—I believe they are still exchanging words. Until one day in the future, when science has further developed and tales become entertainment that is machine-generated, I believe that tales, or episodes passed down from generation to generation, are a means of communication.

Even this story revolving around Hakobune Middle School's 66th Generation Student Council Executive Committee—it's a tale that's an unpleasant memory, a painful memory, and, in some places, a bittersweet memory for me. But in the end, it was not so much what was told but the act of telling it that was more meaningful.

And there was meaning in you listening to it.

So what I want to say is, thank you for listening to me.

■ ■

Chinu Namaji told me.

The reasons for my loss in the Formation Game.

"Well, I've been beating around the bush, but it wasn't any particular strategy worth putting on airs about—I'm sure even you've managed to guess at most of it, Kurokami-chan. You gathered only strong players, and I—well, it would be a bit mean to call them weak, but it might even be too presumptuous to call them players—I gathered only amateur players. If you think about it normally, your team had the overwhelming advantage, but the reason my team was able to win was exactly that—the reason it seemed like an advantage and actually was an advantage was the reason you lost, Kurokami-chan."

I listened to Chinu-senpai's words. I simply stayed quiet and listened.

Part of it was due to wanting to hear the reason I lost, but it seemed to me that she was trying to tell me something else, and if that was the case, I couldn't miss a single word of it.

That was the conversation between me and her.

Although, to that attitude of mine, Chinu-senpai laughed.

"Ahaha, it's not something you need to listen to so attentively. You'll be disappointed if you concentrate so hard—the point is, gathering only the strongest people does not make a strong team. This is why the theoretically viable all-star team is not necessarily the strongest team in the world. It's all about balance."

"Balance—are you saying that if everyone is at the same level of strength, then balance comes naturally?"

"Sort of, but not quite—strength is after all, limited to just one position. Even if you gathered nine pitchers that could throw a fastball at 150 km/h, that team isn't going to win the Best Nine Award, right?"

At the time, I didn't know very much about baseball, so I didn't understand the example itself, but now, there wasn't a metaphor more apt than this—of course, a metaphor was just a metaphor, so it wasn't like it applied directly to basketball.

But it was true that I hadn't thought about balance.

I simply called out to seniors that seemed to be athletic—maybe that would've been fine for individual games, but because it was a team game, it apparently backfired.

Backfired?

No, that wasn't it.

That sort of plan wouldn't just backfire normally—normally, anyone would gather players just as I did in order to form their team. That was the obvious strategy, and in fact, Chinu-senpai herself had guided me into following that strategy. She explained the rules of the game as if who I scouted was important—thinking about it, her going on about all-star teams and so forth was preparation, laying down the groundwork, wasn't it?

On the other hand, she must have quickly finished gathering her members in order to use the time spent waiting for me to instruct the five people she gathered on how to fight as a team.

How to handle the ball and pass it—in other words, teamwork.

Normally, if she were going to discuss why she won, that would be all—but the real reason she won was because she was able to make me not realize that this game was a team game. She'd made me think that it was an extension of an individual game—and, with me not seeing it as a team game, there was no way that frame of mind would be enough to beat her.

Rather than backfiring.

It never fired to begin with.[?]

"Well, in this case, your strong players ended up getting a bit arrogant, which made them unsuited for an off-the-cuff team game—in contrast, my weak players knew their own limits, and thus were able to follow my instructions perfectly. But that might just be secondary—after all, when I lost to President Kumagawa, we were definitely trying to face him with our teamwork."

"When you—lost to President Kumagawa?"

"If I said that, would it be a bit misleading?"

Chinu-senpai said.

With a lighthearted tone.

I wondered why she was being so lighthearted, but perhaps it was to keep the atmosphere from growing too heavy—in that sense, you could say her attempt was fruitless.

"After all, after that match ended, he said something like this—'Again, I couldn't win'."

Again, I couldn't win.

Chinu Namaji had said she'd lost, and Kumagawa Misogi had said he couldn't win.

In that case—it was a game with no victor.

Of course, it shouldn't need to be said now that that was basically Kumagawa Misogi's forte, but at the time, I couldn't believe that it was possible for a game to end with those results.

"By the way, the game we played was a game based on rules quite different from those of the Formation Game—however, the strategy he used was mostly the same. I... No, the girls' basketball team ended up being thoroughly beaten by his 'weakness'. We were beaten to a pulp, beaten so badly that we couldn't get up again—and then everybody quit."

"Quit—the club?"

The deserted gymnasium.

The solo club activities.

I figured that was the reason, but the reality was slightly different—the members that had been beaten up by Kumagawa Misogi were no longer here, not because they had sent in their resignations from the club.

They hadn't even sent in their resignations.

"What they quit wasn't the club, but basketball itself,"

said Chinu-senpai.

"They were unable to renew themselves, to flip the switch on their lives—they're still being dragged along by their defeat. Being dragged along slowly, and continuing to live slowly... No, continuing to lose slowly—it's tragic."

That's why I'm here,

said Chinu-senpai.

"That's why I resigned as Student Council Treasurer—I guess if I wanted to say it in a cool way, then I wanted to make sure they had a place to return to, I guess? But it's not anything that cool. It's more like atonement."

"...And by atonement, you mean?"

"So basically, I ended up getting those girls mixed up in the match between me and President Kumagawa—although the actual circumstances were a bit more complicated."

From then on, she began to speak evasively. Instead of getting to the point, her explanation felt far more ambiguous than her prior explanations—so at the time, it was a little hard for me to understand, but now, I understood the circumstances. And I understood why it was so hard for her to speak.

To sum it up, it was like this.

Chinu Namaji, who had been appointed as Hakobune Middle School's 66th Generation Student Council Executive Committee Treasurer, was also a major player in the girls' basketball team—it didn't seem like she was forced to make a decision between the two, but I suppose it depends on how you look at it. The facts may not be so simple, but it was likely the club members thought that if Chinu-senpai were not involved in Student Council activities, she would concentrate more on basketball—it was likely they even wanted her to quit the Student Council. So, it seemed that the Student Council and the basketball team collided. The actual details were a bit more complex—perhaps Chinu-senpai couldn't excuse her teammates getting involved with the Student Council Executive Committee led by the infamous Kumagawa Misogi—basically, the girls' basketball team recklessly bet everything on their team leader, Chinu Namaji, and challenged Kumagawa Misogi to a match.

And then—they lost.

"...Well, this doesn't just apply to athletes—anyone who normally puts in the effort and works hard would think like this. No matter how much you may regret losing to someone better or greater than you, it's not impossible to accept that loss. It's just a math problem. It's natural that 2 is bigger than 1—and if you reflect upon not having been 3, not having been able to become 3, then that can become your next goal. But, if you're 2 and you lose to 1, or even lose to a minus, then what is there to reflect upon? How can you use that loss to proceed? Do you just accept that the world is like that and give up? Just accept that being better is not always rated highly, that excellence is not always recognized? Yeah—and so, everybody gave up."

No, not everyone.

After all, there's me,

murmured Chinu-senpai.

"Being better is not always rated highly, and excellence is not always recognized, but whatever—I can deal with that. Even if the world doesn't understand, it's fine as long as I understand—or so I put on a bold front. But what I can't deal with is when something that's stupid or worthless is given a high rating by society—that just kills my motivation to live. I wasn't able to accept my powerless defeat. It felt like all my effort, all the hard work we'd put in together—it all came to nothing. Like I'd been thrust with the idea that our lives were meaningless. And I lost all motivation for everything."

Born without meaning, live without relations, and die without worth.

That was what had been said.

By Chinu-senpai—and by Kumagawa Misogi.

"Well, ironically enough, with that as the reason, I was able to resign from the position of Treasurer, and keep watch over the basketball team. So in that sense, President Kumagawa wasn't able to win."

That was true.

He hadn't achieved the results he wanted—with the result being him losing one of his officers, what exactly was he trying to do? As a result of the match, both the basketball team and the Student Council Executive Committee had experienced losses. Well, that was more or less what Kumagawa Misogi was made of—but to me at the time, it just seemed like an uncanny act.

"Basically, that's why I quit the Student Council Executive Committee—and why you became my successor, Kurokami-chan. Do you understand now?"

"......"

I had no choice but to respond that I did understand—it wasn't like I could just deny her past. However, it was hard to tell what exactly I did understand. I had certainly wanted to learn why Chinu-senpai had quit the Student Council Executive Committee, and why the girls' basketball team was in this state... But now that I'd learned it, now that I'd understood, all that was left was a feeling of dissatisfaction.

No.

Perhaps I was angry.

Not at President Kumagawa—but at Chinu-senpai.

It might be a bit irrational, but why didn't she try and face President Kumagawa again, try and have a rematch with everyone in the girls' basketball team?—I may have felt that way.

It wasn't the time to give up, it wasn't the time to just wallow in your powerlessness—I may have wanted to say something like that.. But I couldn't. There was no way I could. So that I couldn't say something like that, she had made me play this Formation Game—in the same way she lost to Kumagawa Misogi, she made me suffer a defeat.

And that was probably a fraction, less than one-hundredth, of the "sense of defeat" experienced after coming face-to-face with President Kumagawa—at the very least, after having felt it, I couldn't bring myself to criticize the members of the girls' basketball team.

"Well, no need to concern yourself with us—that's our problem. It's not like I'm trying to tell you to take down our foe for us, to get revenge for us, or anything like that."

"Eh—but!"

Revenge was a strong word, but.

I'd been sure that that was what she was trying to say.

After all, Chinu-senpai had just said something to the effect of "taking Kumagawa Misogi down"—hadn't she? With even the condition of "using that same method"—so, that's what I had assumed all this time.

However, that wasn't it.

Instead of that—it was, to say the least, for her junior.

And for her successor, some pertinent advice.

"In the near future, you'll end up facing off against President Kumagawa—I don't know how it'll happen, and I don't know what will cause it, but there's no way a person like you and a person like him won't collide at some point. But when that time comes, challenging his 1 with your 2, challenging his minus with your plus—that's all meaningless to him. He won't take any damage at all from that. Kurokami-chan. If you want to win against Kumagawa Misogi—you will first have to begin by losing to him."

■ ■

Chinu-senpai's words were like some sort of Zen dialogue, so at the time, it was hard for me to comprehend them—and rather than a Zen dialogue, it felt more like an impossible dialogue. However, it was still frighteningly pertinent advice.

In fact, when the time came for me to settle things with Kumagawa Misogi here at Hakoniwa Academy, we unexpectedly ended up settling things in such a way—Former President Hinokage's "Evilize Training Camp" was made with that in mind, too. However, this basically meant that I had been unable to follow or make use of the advice given to me in middle school, which meant that I'd failed to fulfill the request of Chinu-senpai.

I'm ashamed of myself.

After losing the match, I couldn't even carry out the request that I got as the penalty—if the news would reach Chinu-senpai's ears that belatedly... After three years, I was able to settle things with him, then it would be a great comfort to me.

However, there was nothing special about Chinu-senpai.

In the sense that she had been a part of the Student Council Executive Committee, she was a special case, but like her, there were students all over the school whose lives had been turned upside down by President Kumagawa. There were students all over the school, including myself, who were ruined by the mixture of good and evil, mixed with victory and defeat.

I'd even go so far as to say that the entire school was like that—

With the exception of my brother and the Vice President.

However, it went without saying that when I heard the story from Chinu-senpai—when I heard the story from her through the form of a competition—it was a clear turning point for me.

The next day.

After school, I headed for the Student Council office.

Of course, I'd gone there once early in the morning, but at that time, the office had been empty—despite mustering all that motivation, it felt like a huge letdown in the end. But I didn't falter, pulled myself together, and opened the door to the Student Council office after school.

This time, President Kumagawa.

Kumagawa Misogi was there.

He was alone—neither the Vice President nor the Secretary nor the General Affairs Manager was there.

I hadn't intended on changing my plans had anyone been there, but this was certainly a favorable situation for me.

If I was going to confront him, then one-on-one was ideal.

「Heya, Medaka-chan—what's the matter? With such a dignified look on your face,」

President Kumagawa said.

「Although, Medaka-chan, I guess you're always making that dignified face, aren't you—even though you'd be better off living your life a bit more cheerfully and loosely. Then you'd be more popular.」

To those cheerful and loose words of his, I said,

"President Kumagawa."

It was a proclamation.

"The responsibility of the Treasurer position of the Student Council Executive Committee—I will humbly accept."

「...Huh? I thought we'd already finished discussing that matter?」

"No. To me, this is the starting line."

It was true that I'd been performing my duties as Treasurer in the Student Council Executive Committee for a couple of days now—but now, I was truly determined to fulfill my duties.

It was this very moment that I was truly "promoted" as the Treasurer, in the truest sense.

That I decided to work under Kumagawa Misogi—that I decided to fight against Kumagawa Misogi.

As a comparison, it was sort of like how a shogi piece gets "promoted" after entering enemy lines—although it was more like a betrayal than a simple turnover.

「Hmm. I'm just thankful to hear that, but... What led to this change of mind? Should I hear it?」

"I spoke with Chinu-senpai,"

I said. I had no intention of hiding it from him.

"I learned—about my predecessor, and the details that led to her being relieved of her position."

In actuality, instead of being relieved, she resigned on her own—President Kumagawa actually tried to hold her back—but this was neither a misunderstanding nor an attempt to mislead.

But even so, I expected a rebuttal.

And yet,

「Chinu...?」

said President Kumagawa, tilting is head.

「...Who's that?」

That was.

The reaction of someone who'd heard the name for the first time—as if he wasn't even sure that the word was supposed to be a name.

「Also, what do you mean by predecessor? The 66th Generation Student Council Executive Committee's Treasurer has always been only you, Medaka-chan.」

"...Is that so."

There was no meaning to disputing it.

Whether he'd actually forgotten, or whether he was simply concealing it, I had no desire to even think about it—however, I keenly felt it.

From now on—this was the opponent I would have to fight against.

I resolved myself to face off against Kumagawa Misogi—the Minus that crawls from chaos, Kumagawa Misogi. It was like a joke, pitting a Treasurer against an incalculable man, but this was my reality here at Hakobune Middle School.

「Is that all you wanted to say? Then, get to work, Medaka-chan. Maguro-chan and Kouki-chan will be here soon—along with Anshin'in-san, too.」

"Anshin'in-sa—"

「Don't worry, you might not be used to it in the beginning, but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it in an instant, Medaka-chan. I look forward to our long relationship together.」

Kumagawa said with a smile.

It was a smile with no emotion behind it.

「I'm sure it'll be an unforgettable experience.」

■ ■

And so, Hakobune Middle School's 66th Generation Student Council Executive Committee was established. What happened after that, you should know very well—we fought, we broke down, we rampaged, and we became a mess.

There were disagreements, there were misunderstandings, and there were mistakes.

Things didn't go the way I planned, and of course, Kumagawa Misogi never had any plans to begin with, so we never arrived at a future that had been predicted by anybody—power and intrigue only swirled, finesse only flailed, and eagerness never saw the light of day.

It was out of anyone's hands, and no one could be held responsible.

A battle with no victors, that would make no one happy, began and ended.

No, it failed to even end.

It simply carried on, unsettled.

I didn't know what Chinu-senpai felt as she watched it happen—perhaps she was disappointed in me, or perhaps she never expected anything from me to begin with, thinking, "Ah, of course".

At any rate, I failed. And I don't think I managed to recover from it here in Hakoniwa Academy. That—those things—were a failure that cannot be recovered from.

There were too many things that couldn't come back—and there were too many people that couldn't return.

And so, for you—for you all—I want you to not repeat the same mistakes I made. That's what I wish. From the bottom of my heart, I hope that you don't make the same mistakes again—I know you're going to say that you would never do something like that, but you know, something like that can happen to anyone.

Just like how Chinu-senpai wasn't anyone special.

Kurokami Medaka and Kumagawa Misogi weren't anyone special, either.

When two people meet and get involved, a tale is born—though the two of us in middle school could only produce a bad ending like this. But even if it's a bad ending, even if it's a childish, or even juvenile—there is no doubt that it is still a tale.

As long as I can tell it to you like this.

Torai Kudaki.

Hakoniwa Academy's 100th Generation Student Council Executive Committee General Affairs Manager Torai Kudaki—I can no longer participate in whatever Student Council activities you'll perform now, but if there's any advice I can give you as a pioneer on the front lines and as a defeated soldier, it is to be the hero of a tale that you can tell, a tale that you are willing to tell to someone else.

And then, someday, you should tell it to a junior that admires you.

The battle you fought—and, of course, the happy ending you achieved.

■ ■

Hm? Chinu-senpai?

What happened to Chinu-senpai after that?

She's still well, even today—in Hakobune Middle School, the basketball team never managed to be reformed, but she was able to move on to high school as a competent player, running across the court even now.

Yes, that was one thing that President Kumagawa taught me.

Even if a tale ends with a bad ending—

People do not end with a bad ending.

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fortune-fool02 · 5 years ago

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A Night Together

Dio Brando x female reader

Requested by: @alana1101

Please enjoy.

Time to relax was something that [Name] tried to make for Dio. With the servants running around, reporting about the Joestars’ movements and their falling comrades, it was growing more difficult to take Dio’s mind off of it.

And the affect of this was beginning to show -though only in secret, as Dio would never allow himself to appear worried nor concerned around his other servants- and when Dio came to rest one night, [Name] could read the stress on him like an open book. His muscles tense as he held her, burying his face in her hair, his hold just a little tighter than it usually is.

That was when [Name] told herself that this was enough. Dio needed something to take his mind off of the current situation and she was going to help him in that. She just needed a bit of time and a television.

***

Dio took a look around the room, noticing the rearrangements made with the couch now standing at the foot of the bed rather than at the side of the room, along with the television that sat on the stand in front of said couch.

Upon the couch laid a collection of blankets and pillows, creating a cozy looking den of sorts. What on Earth was running through [Name]’s head? When she told him to meet her in their room at this time, this was not what he was expecting. Then again, he has been occupied with matters as of late and that had shortened his time he spent with her.

The [Hair colour] female poked her head up from the side of the bed, a smile on her lips at the sight of her lover, pleased that he actually came instead of sending a servant to tell her he was unable to make it and apologised for it.

“Is there a reason behind all of this?” The blonde vampire asked, motioning to the couch and the T.V. [Name] nodded, raising to her feet to reveal a handful of DVDs in her arms. Dio was no fool, he was aware of what DVDs were and their purpose as [Name] had brought them over multiple times.

“You need to relax, and you’re not leaving this room until you do.” The stubborn tone she tried to put on was softened by her sweet demeanour. The fact that he towered over her small form only made it more difficult to take her seriously, much like an adorable puppy trying to be stubborn. A smile tugged Dio’s lips at this. Closing the door behind him, he approached her and earned a bright smile from her again.

“Okay, take your pick.” She said, setting the different films down for him to examine. There were a few he had seen before and a couple that he hadn’t. After examining the different covers and information on the backs, he chose one he had not seen, a form a romantic film which surprised [Name] a little but she didn’t say anything.

She put the DVD into the DVD Player and took her seat on the couch, patting it for Dio to sit. He did as told and sat beside her, her smaller form snuggling against him like a kitten with her head resting on his chest.

He looked down at her, how small she was compared to him, and he smiled lightly. He was aware of how hard she tried to help ease his stress and, truthfully, he appreciated her efforts. Sometimes, he needed a place to rest and relax; to drop the mask and allow his heart to be seen.

It was always nice to know that, no matter what reports came back that spoke nothing of failure, there was someone who could never fail him. A rock for him to lean back on to rest and be embraced by the soft flowers that radiated her beauty. He grabbed one of the blankets, Dio pulled it over the [Hair colour] female, as well as wrapped one around himself, bundling them both up.

“I didn’t think you could get cold, Dio.” [Name] chuckled lightly as she looked up at her lover, [Eye colour] orbs sparkling in the limited light. Dio smiled, fingers gently combing through her [Hair colour] that was softer than the finest silk available.

“Why would I be cold when your love keeps me warm?” The redness that dusted her cheeks made him smirk, he always seemed to know what to say to make her light up like this. Their attention turned back to the film.

Throughout the film, Dio’s interest grew less and less as he directed his attention to the [Hair colour] woman that laid on him. Her delicate appearance mislead many to believe she was harmless though he has seen her Stand and its capability in a battle, and she was nothing if not capable. She was perfect in his eyes.

Strong and dependent yet sweet and loving. Like a beautiful exotic flower. And she was his. His smirk had softened down to a loving smile as he gazed at her, admiring each little detail of her as if it was his first time seeing her again. They had shifted positions so he was laying on his back and [Name] on his chest with one arm wrapped around her waist. He loved this position, to feel her body warmth against his cold skin was as close as he could get to the sun’s light.

As the film credits began to scroll up the screen, it went unbothered by the two figures laying on the couch. Their eyes closed with soft breathing slipping from them, Dio’s arm wrapped in a protectively loving manner whilst [Name] snuggled against him.

The stress that nipped at the blonde vampire was a forgotten memory by this scene. The only thing on his mind was how warm [Name]’s body was against his and how right it felt to have her in his arms.

#dio #dio brando #jojo bizarre adventure #dio x reader #dio brando x reader #jojo bizzare adventure x reader #jojo #jojo x reader #dio jojo #dio stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders x reader #fluff #female reader #reader insert

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back-and-totheleft · 3 years ago

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Oliver Stone Settles the Score with Cannes Debut ‘JFK Revisited,’ Feels Unappreciated at Home

When you think reliable narrator, Oliver Stone doesn’t exactly come to mind. Since his start as a director in the 1970s, the lightning-rod filmmaker, now 74, has leaned into fiction narratives with political points of view, from “Salvador,” “Wall Street,” and “W.” to Best Director Oscar-winners “Platoon” and “Born on the Fourth of July.” His last Oscar nomination came in 1996, for “Nixon,” arguably his peak of high regard in Hollywood. It’s hard to recall that in 1992, controversial global smash “JFK” earned three Oscar nominations including Best Picture.

Times change, and Stone’s complex historic and global point of view is far more layered and nuanced than current American partisanship will accept. That’s why the Yale-grad-turned-Vietnam-vet has managed to alienate folks on every side of the political spectrum, including accusations of promulgating violence with “Natural Born Killers,” promoting a whistleblower in “Snowden,” and conducting friendly documentary interviews with dictators, Cuba’s Fidel Castro in “Comandante” (2003) and more recently Russia’s Vladimir Putin (Showtime’s four-part “The Putin Interviews”).

“Many people are scared and touchy,” said Stone’s long-term backer, Argentinian producer Fernando Sulichin (“Alexander,” “Savages”), “because he goes to talk openly to big powerful people who are not liked in the West and gets their point of view. He does that as an exploration. If you have a chance to speak to these people, they will be judged by history. For example, Nelson Mandela and the NSA were declared a terrorist organization, then 20 years later he’s the savior Nelson Mandela. It’s an overview of the geopolitical system, [Stone] is not affiliated. And everything is coherent within a historical time frame; it’s a historical approach to modern reality that is not made by the people in the political world of the newspapers.”

So when it comes to setting the record straight on who killed President John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963, in that motorcade in Dallas, Texas, Stone might not seem the most objective documentarian to tell that story. After all, isn’t he just trying to prove the same conspiracy theories he put forward in “JFK” almost 30 years ago, that got him in hot water at the time? “Of course,” he told me at Cannes, where he world-premiered and launched world sales on documentary “JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass,” which he finished during the pandemic. “To make this documentary is to prove our case. We proved it as far as possible. There is no absolute proof.”

When producer Rob Wilson proposed the idea of returning to the shooting of JFK, Stone decided it was important to bring multi-generations up to speed on what really happened back in 1963. At first, Stone pitched four one-hour episodes for television, but no sale. So he fashioned a two-hour movie instead, completed, along with his recent memoir, during the pandemic. “The 1991 movie was a dramatization, nothing wrong with it,” he said “I got nailed by people, literalists, saying Stone made up this and that, like, Kevin Bacon was an amalgam of five homosexual characters in New Orleans.”

For “JFK Revisited,” Stone leaned on a screenplay based on facts, culled by indefatigable Kennedy researcher and autodidact James DiEugenio, who deconstructed two assassination tomes published after the release of “JFK” — Gerald Posner’s “Case Closed: Lee Harvey Oswald and the Assassination of JFK” (1993), and Vincent Bugliosi’s “Reclaiming History: The Assassination of President John F. Kennedy” (2007). Stone also wanted to assemble all the primary evidence that has been declassified and revealed in the last decades, from the initial Warren Commission Report to subsequent government investigations that undermine many of the Warren Commission’s findings.

“When the 50th anniversary rolled around,” said Stone, “I was depressed that even the networks and print outlets were ignoring alternate theories on the Warren Commission. You’d have thought it was the Bible. It was a cover-up whitewash.”

DiEugenio had read every text about the assassination, Stone said: “He went after everything. The script was wonkish. Rob and I simplified it.” While one could argue with Stone’s choice to add to his own narration the familiar voices of Whoopi Goldberg and Donald Sutherland (who starred in “JFK”), nonetheless the movie makes a persuasive argument against the Warren Commission’s lone gunman theory, which had Lee Harvey Oswald fire a “magic bullet” that passed through Kennedy’s body in multiple unlikely locations, and was mysteriously found in an untarnished state. “JFK Revisited” persuasively argues for a conspiracy theory involving multiple players and makes a cohesive case that two rogue arms of government, the FBI and the CIA, both contributed misleading evidence to the Warren Commission, which overlooked evidence that was subsequently unveiled.

And the movie is unabashedly pro-Kennedy. “Kennedy was a true true warrior for peace, he did not want proliferation,” said Stone at the Cannes press conference, “a great American leader. Had he succeeded we would be in a whole different place.” And if the assassination had happened in an age of mobile cameras, the investigation would have gone very differently, too. “But what is the absolute truth? We don’t have it. History itself is up for grabs.”

Stone sees Kennedy as the last president to question the power of the entrenched and well-funded military industrial complex, the FBI and the CIA — which may explain why he often seems sympathetic to Donald Trump. As far as Stone is concerned, George W. Bush was a much worse president. “He led us into the war on terror,” he said. “The Liberal movement changed after September 11, 2001, became super-patriotic, identifying America as an oppressed nation, because it was attacked by terrorists — as if we hadn’t committed acts of terrorism abroad ourselves. 2001 was a payback for a lot of stuff we’d done.”

Next up: “Starpower,” a clean energy eco-documentary. “I’m looking to global interests,” said Stone. “We have to realize energy is an international issue. A lot of businessmen are progressive when it comes to energy. It’s not political, it’s beyond that. With energy and climate change, we’re looking at the danger of carbon dioxide emissions in the atmosphere. It’s crucial we solve that problem by 2050. The Russians and Chinese are doing a lot of work with new energy, and the U.S. is doing it at a smaller level with less government support. I believe that a world of peace and coexistence is more crucial than anything.”

And Stone worries that Netflix algorithms that predict what moviegoers want to see preclude greenlighting the kind of movies that made his career. “I always believe that if you build it they will come,” he said. “I struggled to make my first films, like ‘Salvador.’ I don’t think anyone could question military strategy today like I could in ‘Platoon.’ An algorithm couldn’t predict who would come to ‘Platoon’ or ‘Born on the Fourth of July,’ which both took 10 years to make. The film dictates the audience. If it’s good, it brings the audience. Algorithms don’t work that way.”

The director also fears that Americans aren’t getting the full story via their news media, with censorship on the rise. He sees himself being funded by more international outlets than domestic ones. While “JFK Revisited” scored favorable early reviews and strong international sales, North American distribution is still up for grabs. “If this movie is not shown in America,” said Stone, “something is wrong with our system.”

-Anne Thompson, IndieWire, Jul 24 2021 [x]

#oliver stone #jfk: a destiny betrayed #jfk revisited #anne thompson #indiewire #cannes film festival #john f. kennedy #jfk

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asoulofatlantis · 8 months ago

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Ich habe gestern 5 Stunden oder so gespielt und bin fast garnicht im Main-Plot voran gekommen. So viel dazu das ich gestern geschrieben habe, dass ich bei 25 Stunden auf 50% kommen will. Das kann ich jetzt definitiv vergessen...

I feel like we as the player are far too involved in bullshit like this ^^'

I mean... she wanted to kill a bad Shinra-man and... she didn't hit the right target but she did hit a bad Shinra-man. I certainly do not feel sorry for him ^^'

Well... he is unharmed, the big old man is only barely scratched and now Rufus thinks this was all our plan. So we are screwed thanks to that girl.

And I thought I was done with that bullshit ^^'

We... are?

I think we just broke his bike... in half ^^'

Awwwww. That was kind of cute. How the Troopers said goodbye to Cloud and he to them. I did feel sorry for misleading them. But I made sure all of them will come home alive.

I actually had some stuff to do in Junon... but... uh... I guess I get back another time? ^^'

Look who we have here. Old friends.

Pssst! Tifa! She means boys. You know... Girlstalk.

I didn't expect to be on a Cruiseship with an invitation to play Cardgames, instead of running through a dungeon full of monsters. I am totally underleved and in dire need of some training ^^'

Have fun without me. I am not wasting any more time on another minigame, especially not if it doesn't give me any points with you, my dear.

I HAVE to do this? But the internet said I can forfeit it! T.T

I do one match so I can say I've played it at least once and then I am happy to quit.

I tried two times, but I don't get this game and I do not have the time or the will to read the tutorial or buy new cards or anything like that. Maybe I try again when the game comes out on PC one day XD

I guess Red didn't want to quit tho XD

As if it would be hard to beat me XD

So Aerith tells Cloud to kick Reds butt and Aeriths is cheery on Red? Something wrong with the translation here? ^^' And WHY on earth do I have to do this, after just giving up on the tournament?

Okay XD That was weird.

Cloud saved her life twice by now... she better pays it back!

Jenova is a really scary thing for an ancient Lady that is technically speaking not even alive anymore ^^'

Those in between chapters are thankfully always on the shorter side.

#ff7r mona version

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captain-tch · 4 years ago

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All That I Can Give

summary: kiko is a struggling business owner, who gets thrown into the chaos of the borderlands. when she makes a mistake that will threaten her life, she learns just how far she will go to keep herself alive.

TW: DEATH, MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, MENTAL HEALTH, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, VIOLENCE

chapter 3: two truths and a lie

previous chapter

Kiko was sweating so hard she thought she wouldn’t be able to get out of her chair. She was praying no one would be able to see, but with all the eight players sat in a circle, she was certain they all had a front seat view to the perspiration building on her forehead.

In front of them all was a polygraph. From the frowns on some peoples faces, it was clear they were confused as to what it was, some of them even glancing at the foreign device cautiously. Still they followed the instructions from the bodiless voice to connect themselves to it. Kiko prayed it didn’t mistake the racing of her heart as a lie.

“RULES: ONE PLAYER WILL TELL THE OTHER PLAYERS TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE. WHAT LIE THEY TELL AND WHAT THESE TRUTHS ARE ABOUT WILL BE DISPLAYED ON YOUR DEVICES. IF YOU DO NOT TELL THE SPECIFIED TRUTH OR TELL THE LIE YOU ARE TOLD, THEN YOU WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. YOU CAN ASK EACH PLAYER TWO QUESTIONS. THOSE THAT CORRECTLY IDENTIFY THE LIE WILL WIN AND CONTINUE TO PLAY THE NEXT ROUND, UNTIL ALL PLAYERS HAVE HAD A TURN.”

Something about the word disqualified rang alarm bells in her head. Kiko watched the boy in front of her carefully, seeing how he flinched when the voice said this. It clearly wasn’t disqualification as Kiko knew it, but something far more sinister.

“YOU HAVE 30 MINUTES. GOOD LUCK.”

As soon as the voice stopped talking, Kiko’s phone flashed. All around the room her fellow players reached for their phones, reading the information displayed to them on the screen. She took a moment to gauge their reactions - a man in shorts raised a brow before putting his phone face down, glancing nervously at the person next to him, another man with glasses smiled, and the middle aged woman Kiko spoke to earlier was impassive. The teenage boy sat directly in front of her didn’t even look at his phone.

Taking a deep breath, Kiko read the information on the screen.

TELL A TRUTH ABOUT YOUR DARKEST TIME. TELL A TRUTH ABOUT YOUR FATHER. DO NOT TELL A LIE - PICK A RANDOM TRUTH ABOUT YOURSELF.

Kiko tried to control her expression. She tried to not betray the confusion running throughout her body. The rules were running through her head on a loop - maybe by telling only truths, she was misleading her fellow players. By default, even if the words she said were true, she was lying to them. Kiko suppressed the urge to gulp deeply. She tried to focus on the information instead, repeating it endlessly so she wouldn’t make a mistake and get disqualified.

Placing her phone face down on the table, she cast a glance around the room. Everyone was eyeing up the other players.

“Who goes first?” The man with glasses asked. He pulled on the collar of his shirt.

A girl Kiko hadn’t taken much notice of before piped up, clicking her heels on the ground. “Since you so kindly volunteered, why don’t you go? Then we can follow it around.”

Glasses man grumbled, but yielded none the less. Kiko stared at him carefully, watching how his hands kept tapping thin air and he kept licking his lips. “I’ve been committing tax fraud for the past five years.”

He paused, as if waiting for someone to egg him on. He relaxed a bit in his chair. “I married my wife even though I never loved her.”

Kiko sat further up in her seat.

“I hate it when the girl I’m fucking behind my wife’s back is on top during sex.”

A snort slipped past Kiko’s lips. Glasses sent her a glare, which she returned with a sweet smile.

“What questions should we ask?” Shorts man offered the room. No one responded.

Time was ticking and Kiko hated it. These people were sitting silently, as if expecting the answer to be handed to them on a plate. Time was money, a concept Kiko was far too familiar with. Before she could stop herself, she had directed a question to Glasses. “When did you and your wife get married?”

“18th October 1992.” He responded quickly.

At this, Kiko tilted her head slightly. Why would a man who claimed to have never loved his wife, remember the date they got married? Maybe the speed he responded wasn’t because the date was ingrained in his brain, but a sheer moment of panic. Either way, it seemed impossible to pluck a random date from thin air. Even if that wasn’t the date they got married, it clearly was a date of significance to him.

She turned to her fellow players, “Anyone else want to ask a question, or can I go ahead?”

They gestured for her to carry on. Egged on with this confidence, Kiko asked a final question. “When did you start fucking other people who weren’t your wife?”

He paled slightly. Head turned down in shame, he answered. “Four years ago.”

Kiko mulled the information over. The rules said that you had to identify the lie - but they never said anything about half truths. For him to have started an affair so late in the marriage, and to remember the date so quickly, suggested to her that he did love his wife once. By default, it was technically a lie. However with the way he reacted to about the fraud, she wasn’t sure that was the lie. He was nervous, but who wouldn’t be if they committed fraud? Maybe Glasses messed up on the delivery. Or maybe there was only one lie and Kiko was looking too much into it.

“I think his lie is that he never loved his wife.” Kiko followed her gut. The other players stared at Kiko, as if looking for an explanation. Sighing, Kiko explained the train of thought she’d had. It seemed to satisfy most of them, and nearly everyone bar one agreed with Kiko.

“Hold up, you’re going to blindly agree with this girl? You know she could be setting us up right?” The man in the shorts argued, pointing an accusatory finger at Kiko. “I don’t trust the newbie. I believe that the lie is that he committed tax fraud.”

With all the answers in, the disembodied voice made an announcement. “SIX PLAYERS ARE CORRECT. ONE PLAYER IS DISQUALIFIED.”

With those damning words, a beam of energy appeared from the roof. And shot the man in the shorts directly in the head.

Kiko shrieked, watching his body slump and fall off of the chair. A hole was burned into his head. His mouth was slack, his body robbed of the time to scream. His coffee coloured eyes were wide open. Kiko couldn’t erase the feeling he was staring at right at her. Her vision became misty, unable to rip her focus from the dead man she indirectly killed.

The player sat beside him didn’t spare the dead body even a single glance. Now, Kiko understood the blank faces, the dead eyes and the hopeless attitude.

To be disqualified, was to die.

The next five players passed in a blur. The lies were easy to spot from miles away, and having gained the trust of her fellow players everyone gave the same answer Kiko did. While it did provide her a sense of pride they trusted her so easily, the weight of the game lay heavy on her shoulders. Each time she pondered an answer, she saw the man in the shorts, how his face fell slack as the laser pierced his brain, ending his life.

She wouldn’t allow that to happen again.

But as they worked through the players and got closer to Kiko, she realised how fucked her team mates were. She didn’t have a lie to tell. They had been relying on her to identify the answers, and now they were going to do it alone. Someone was bound to die.

“Kiko, it’s your turn.” The middle aged woman gently reminded her. “Not to be rude, but we only have five minutes remaining. You better be quick.”

Gulping harshly, Kiko tried as hard as she could to not show any tells. The moment she showed a clear tell, they would latch onto it and believe that would be the lie. After years of training her face to face loan sharks and debt collectors, she composed an iron wall in front of her features.

She needed to tell them a truth about her darkest time. God, she wished she didn’t have to share this with strangers. Even her own brother didn’t know. “My dad went into hospital and I... I tried to jump in front of a train.”

Taking in a deep breath, she continued with a truth about her father. “My father died and left me with a lot of debt. I resent him for that.”

Lastly, the final truth. The truth that was meant to be a lie. She panicked, letting the first thing that came to mind spill past her lips. “I’m allergic to cats.”

Kiko watched her fellow players, seeing the answers she gave toll in their minds. They had less than five minutes now to decide on the answer. The weight of their deaths felt heavy on her heart and Kiko questioned why this wasn’t a hearts game, especially since she could feel her heart ache in preparation for the pain that was about to come.

“Why did you jump in front of a train?” The woman in heels asked. “Not exactly a great solution to the problem.”

Anger boiled off of Kiko. “Fuck off and shove your heels up your ass.”

“You need to answer it.”

“It...” Kiko glanced away from the woman, trying to shy away from her venomous gaze. Her voice was small as she revealed one of her darkest secrets. “It felt like the only option at the time.” Kiko stared at the woman, imagining how satisfying it would be to punch her. “Can you please stop looking at me as if I’m the scum of the earth?”

“I just hate it when people lie about things so serious.”

Kiko laughed darkly, shaking her head. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t you lie about murdering a man? I bet it was because you only got manslaughter instead.”

“You bitch -” The heeled woman was cut off by the middle aged lady.

“We only have 2 minutes remaining.” The middle aged woman smiled at Kiko, taking it upon herself to ask the final question. “Did you love your father?”

“With all my heart.”

“Then I’m sure he forgives you for feeling the way you do.” The woman looked at the fellow players. “I believe the lie is that she’s allergic to cats.”

All around the room, everyone started to list her lie. There was a variety of answers, with the heeled woman believing the lie was about her dark time. With each answer, Kiko felt her heart fall further. She stared at their faces, memorising the features of those she was about to murder, trying to push down the roaring wave building in her chest.

“My answer is there was no lie.”

Kiko’s head snapped to the boy sat in front of her. His face was young, with eyes old beyond his years. He was subconsciously rubbing the red stain on his shirt sleeve.

“ONE PLAYER IS CORRECT. FIVE PLAYERS ARE DISQUALIFIED.”

She managed to stomach her scream as five people got murdered before her very eyes.

“GAME CLEAR - CONGRATULATIONS.”

Kiko removed herself from the polygraph, keeping her gaze fixed on one point of the wall as she left the room. With a controlled ease, she stepped over a pair of heels blocking her way. She made her way to the entrance, ready to open the door and feel the air brush her skin.

“Wait!” The boy jogged behind her. In his hand was looked like a card, the seven of diamonds painted on it’s surface. “You forgot this.”

Kiko rolled her eyes. “What am I going to do with a playing card that proves I killed six people?”

“You never know when you might need them.” He offered the card out to her. Begrudgingly, she plucked it from his fingers, turning her back to him. “Wait.”

She took a calming breath. A storm was brewing inside her and her body was begging for it to be released. All this conversation did was build the intensity of the destruction.

The boy no longer looked like a boy, a memory of a dark time adding to his years. She could see in the way his eyes clouded and his lips downturned. “I know how it feels right now. Don’t make their deaths mean nothing.”

“What do I do?”

He gave her a sad smile. “You fight to get back home.”

“How?” She wasn’t sure at which point she relied on a teenage boy to hold all of the answers.

“You keep playing games. With this seven of diamonds game, you have a seven day visa. Play a game before it expires. You don’t want to find out what happens if it does.”

With those wise words, he clapped her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before pushing his way into the outside world. She followed him, watching him walk further away. As his shadow melted into the night, she wondered if she should have asked him to stay with her.

She didn’t even know his name.

She didn’t know any of their names.

Somehow now, with the ghosts of those she murdered haunting her, she felt lonelier than she ever had before.

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