#just do what feels right whether it's to laugh

[lucygraysboy]

“wait, you —” he breaks character and laughs, feeling her fingers dancing over that one ticklish spot under his chin. ���you spit food to your babies?” acting all shocked, billy lets out a dramatic gasp and then covers his mouth with his hand. it’s common knowledge, how birds feed their babies, but it’s way more entertaining to tease her about it than to simply say he understands how nature works. “and you say my culture’s nasty? at least we don’t make our babies swallow what we spit.” shaking his head in feigned disapproval, he’s just messing with her and his eyes, so bright and playful, instantly give him away. 

“all the time? all the time? what’s that supposed to mean, hm? you’ve done this before, is that it? cool.” jesus christ, why is she telling him this? it’s all fun and games until he starts actually thinking about it, analyzing her words, unsure whether there’s any truth to them. maybe she and billy taupe shared a moment like this before? or maybe that blond poser took her camping? it bothers him a lot more than it should. he doesn’t want to think about other men kissing her on the cheek, let alone making out with her under a boat. “a cheek kiss, hm?” right. billy taupe got a real kiss. he’s sure the poser asshole did, too. and she’s offering him a cheek kiss. nothing new. he never turns her affections away but maybe he should start, play hard to get. “i have a better idea. watch me try to do a handstand!” he offers, taking a deep breath a disappearing under the surface. 

“aww, well, i don’t know what’s so nice about spittin’ water out on little birdies though. us birdies don’t get that. we spit our food to our babies, but not water to bath them in.” lucy gray plays back, laughing to herself. watching him tilt his chin up, fingers diving under and tickling gently at the underneath of his chin. he looks cute like that. cheeks flush at him saying he wants to… in the same way her cheeks flush thinking how they were sucking the life out of each other at his apartment’s swimming pool area that one day. she thinks about that often and the nashville moments and turns warm and red all over again. “bein’ accommodatin’ huh.” smirking playfully, looking ahead as she gently doggy paddles. “us mermaids do kiss under boats— all the time darlin’.” playfully replying without answering his question, floating over onto her back once they have reached this side of the boat. lot more quiet now. “how about a cheek kiss, sweet pea? you want to?” the brunette proposes, smiling innocently as eyes refind his cute face.

[vibeswithdivs]

you don’t mess around - OP81

If you had to describe your job in three words, they’d be: pressure, precision, and absolutely no room for mistakes.

You managed the money that kept McLaren running. Not in the sense of counting coins in a dusty room — no, you lived in digital dashboards and currency exposure spreadsheets. On any given day, you could tell someone how much was in the Swiss account, how the yen was affecting the Singapore deal, and whether a facility payment was going to clear before a supplier had a panic attack.

The job was about timing. Liquidity. Predicting the unpredictable and safeguarding the team’s future — all while juggling numbers with razor-sharp accuracy.

Which is why when a race car driver wandered into your high-stakes, number-heavy corner of the building on a calm Wednesday morning, you stared at him like he’d stepped into a Bond film by mistake.

He paused just inside the glass doors — tall, hoodie-clad, faintly windblown from the chilly British air outside — and looked around with a furrowed brow.

Definitely lost.

Your colleagues peeked over their screens, some wide-eyed, others frozen mid-email. In this room, the loudest thing was usually someone’s keyboard when they were panicking before a deadline.

You were about to go back to calculating rolling cash positions when he spotted you.

He smiled.

It wasn’t a polite PR-smile. It was curious. Warm. Maybe a little amused.

“This definitely isn’t Aerodynamics,” he said, glancing around.

You took your hand off your mouse and leaned back slightly in your chair. “Unless they’ve suddenly decided to start hedging foreign currency risk, no — you’re a few wrong turns deep.”

He took a cautious step in. “It’s… quiet in here.”

You tilted your head. “Not when the dollar drops half a percent during a five-million-pound contract negotiation.”

He grinned at that. “Sounds intense.”

You offered a thin smile. “That’s one word for it.”

There was a beat. Then he added, “I’m supposed to be meeting Zak, but I think I took a wrong left somewhere between partnerships and… whatever room had seventeen monitors and no windows.”

You stood, brushing off your skirt. “You’re about four corridors off course and six floors deep into stress.”

He looked around. “Well, if I’m going to get lost, at least I ended up somewhere interesting.”

You blinked at him. “You’re the first person to say that about this room. Ever.”

He gave a half-grin, toeing one foot on the floor like he was trying to kill time. “So what do you actually do in here?”

You pointed to your screen, where a live dashboard showed inflows, outflows, and forecasts across multiple international entities. “See that? That’s how much is available in five different currencies to fund race weekend logistics without breaking any laws or overdraft limits.”

Oscar leaned slightly forward, genuinely intrigued. “And you just… know how to do that?”

“I know how to make sure no one gets a call from legal,” you said, turning your gaze back to him. “Including you.”

He laughed, a genuine, caught-off-guard sound. “Wow. You guys are the quiet enforcers.”

“Quiet, precise, and very well-documented,” you replied smoothly. “We don’t leave fingerprints — just audit trails.”

That earned a low whistle. “You don’t mess around.”

“No, but people sometimes think we do — right up until they want to order a new hospitality suite and we say, ‘not unless you want to explain that to Finance.’”

He looked impressed. “Duly noted.”

Another colleague passed behind you, giving Oscar a side-eye like he was a Martian. You cleared your throat and took a step forward, suddenly feeling aware of just how much of the room was pretending not to eavesdrop.

“You’re Oscar,” you said, a little more grounded now.

“And you are…?”

“Y/N,” you replied. “I work in… let’s call it future-proofing.”

That made him pause. “I like that.”

“It sounds less terrifying than ‘I manage the operational cash forecasts for a multimillion-pound motorsport empire,’” you added with a wink.

He smirked. “A motorsport empire, huh?”

“You guys play chess with tires. I play chess with the economy.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it — relaxed, amused, intrigued — felt like a weird sort of reward after a morning spent reviewing intercompany transfers.

“You actually like this stuff?” he asked, pointing at your screen.

You tilted your head. “You like driving into a corner at 200kph hoping your grip calculations are right?”

“…Fair.”

At that moment, a harried admin appeared behind him. “Oscar! There you are — Zak’s been waiting—”

Oscar turned slightly but didn’t move. “Got a little sidetracked.”

The admin blinked at you, surprised. You offered a tight-lipped smile and a “don’t you dare start” eyebrow raise before turning back to him.

“Back to the track?” you asked lightly.

“Back to pretending I know what my engineer is talking about.”

You smiled, unexpectedly. “Fake it till you podium.”

He chuckled. “Hey, Y/N?”

You raised a brow.

“I’m glad I got lost,” he said. “Most detours don’t come with financial sass and a global cash position overview.”

“Flirting with the girl who can freeze team spending is bold,” you replied, smirking.

He shrugged, taking a few steps toward the door. “I’ve raced in Monaco. I like high-risk strategies.”

Before leaving, he turned back over his shoulder, grin softening into something more sincere. “I’ll come back. But next time, I’ll bring coffee. You seem like you don’t take sugar, but I’ll gamble.”

You blinked, not used to someone reading you that quickly.

“…Black. No sugar,” you said after a beat.

He pointed, victorious. “Knew it.”

And with that, he slipped out of the room — leaving behind a trail of confusion, amusement, and a string of open-mouthed stares from your colleagues.

You sat down, turned back to your screen, and tried — very unsuccessfully — to remember what currency hedge you were working on.

But all your brain could supply was: He got your coffee order right.

And maybe… just maybe… some risks were worth taking.

[1-800-luvmail]

three times dick grayson failed to do The Fanfic Trope, one time he succeeded accidentally

dick grayson has been doing absolutely everything right. everything.

you, unfortunately, just don't seem to be susceptible for the charm he's trying to subject you to. all of a sudden, he's faced with a challenge he can't seem to win— but hell, he'll try anyways.

ice cream date? perfect. you've got a little bit of your favourite flavour smeared in the corner of your mouth and he sees the perfect opportunity to be a gentleman and gently tilt your chin up to dab away the mess with a napkin. hopefully leaving you a flustered mess in the process, of course.

"you got something there," he says, about to extend the napkin to you—

...and you just gently pluck it from his fingers, thanking him with a bright grin as you wipe it away yourself.

walking you back home and it's getting colder? the cliche is inevitable. this time, he's got the perfect method to get you all heated up in the face. the plan is simple: he's going to offer you his jacket, drape it around your shoulder (definitely tell you how cute you look in it) but before he can even offer, there you are, pulling something out of your bag.

he's unsure whether to be exasperated or impressed. "...how'd you fit an entire sweater in your bag??"

"konmari'd that shit, dude. i always carry an emergency sweater."

saying goodbye at your door after a date, dick is entirely convinced that you're just immune to whatever fanfic tropes he's trying to subject you to. which... kind of sucks, actually. how else can he impress you?

he's too busy thinking to realize you're staring up at him.

"i had a really great time. hoping we can do this again."

your voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he returns your smile, albeit a bit nervous, chucking awkwardly. "anytime."

a small laugh escapes your lips and you lean in just a bit, leaning against the wall, placing your palm just next to his head.

"guess i gotta say goodnight, huh?"

"i guess so," he replies, feigning completely and utter nonchalance.

his mind is going crazy. this is too inentional of you. mind you, people don't typically accidentally kabedon others (and yeah he's seen this in damian's shoujos).

in spite of his racing mind and heart, he manages to grin like he's not about to collapse.

this is it, he thinks, this is the moment.

his eyes flutter close as you both lean in, waiting to feel your lips against his and...

...instead, you gently press a chaste, sweet kiss to his forehead.

"alright. well, goodnight," you say, smiling at and clearly not registering the fact he was expecting something totally different.

part of dick wants to scream. he's the one who should be making you go all head-over-heels. being at the other end of it feels... strangely vulnerable. scary, even.

you missed, he wants to say. come back.

a clap of thunder interrupts both his thoughts and your steps towards the door. rainfall begins pouring from the sky so heavily that it's almost comedic.

"ah— guess i better get going," he says to you, notably umbrella-less.

"uh, absolutely not?" before dick can protest, you tug him with you through the open door "it's late and that's a thunderstorm."

your point is supported by a distant flash of lightning.

"it wouldn't be that bad." he shrugs, even knowing that, yes, it would.

but you're stubborn, as he's come to know and love, so he just trails after you.

"nope. looks like you'll be staying the night here!" you pause as you glance around. "...we'll figure something out."

dick grayson raises an eyebrow and looks around. "what do you mean by that?"

"oh, nothing. it's just— there's only one bed."

[vettelsvee]

i did something bad with jenson button

I DID SOMETHING BAD | Jenson Button

⋆ PAIRING: Dom!Jenson Button x Sub Alonso!Reader ⋆ SUMMARY: You, Fernando Alonso's daughter, have a one night stand with one of your dad's closest friends, and keep going with it even when he's lost his flight to go back home ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it anon 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT ⋆ WARNINGS: Smut (male receiving oral sex, unprotected sex, p in v, hard and rude sex, dirty talk, slightly overstimulation with female receiving oral sex), age gap (Jenson is 45 and reader is 25), cheating, curse words ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2220 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: I feel dirty when writing smut and I'm always unsure about if I'm writing the best way possible lmao. Anyways, hope you like this one! Feel free to comment and reblog since it helps me a lot to grow and they're very much appreciated :) Thank you so much, and enjoy your reading! <3 ↳ LET'S TALK/REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

Jenson knew he was in trouble the moment he opened his eyes.

The sun, partially filtered through the curtains, hit him directly in the face, a harsh reminder that it was probably much later than he had thought.

With his free hand, he reached for his phone on the nightstand. A quick glance confirmed his fears: 11:27 a.m. He was supposed to be up by seven. Whether he had turned off the alarm himself or simply slept through it, he couldn’t say.

He cursed under his breath. He’d missed his flight back to Los Angeles.

His stomach twisted as he noticed several unread messages from his wife. He hadn’t even opened the chat, but the sight alone made his pulse race. Not only did he have to explain that he missed the flight, but also the reason why.

Who was the reason why.

Y/N Alonso.

Fernando Alonso’s daughter.

One of his best friend’s in Formula 1 daughter.

Guilt surged through him not just because you were stunningly beautiful, but because of what had happened the night before. A whirlwind of emotion gripped his chest: desire and regret, excitement laced with a crushing wave of guilt.

He should’ve known better. Back at the hotel, when Fernando introduced you again after all those years, he should’ve walked away the moment your father did. He should’ve left when you stayed behind. He knew it the instant your fingers slid into his hair with brazen ease, right there in that club, when you pulled him close and he couldn't stop himself from grabbing your waist, drawing you in, whispering that this couldn't happen there—but it could in his hotel room.

Jenson knew he’d done something wrong.

So why the hell did it feel so good?

“Fuck me...”

He sat up, dragging a hand down his face and glancing over to the other side of the bed.

Empty.

Panic started to bubble. Had you left? Slipped out quietly without saying anything?

But then, he started hearing footsteps on the wooden floor. The sound of water running. And laughter. That laugh. That spoiled, triumphant laugh of a girl who always got what she wanted, no matter how long it took or what it cost.

“Are you actually there, or is this hangover messing up with me?” he called out.

You heard him perfectly. And, naturally, you did what you did best: tease.

You turned off the shower and stepped out of the bathroom into the bedroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts, completely unbuttoned, your chest bare, no panties, and your hair tangled in wild disarray.

“I may have turned off your alarm," you said, feigning innocence. “I don't remember if it was with my right hand or my left... Do you remember which one wasn't holding your head while you were eating me out?”

Jenson stared at you, clenching his jaw. Tense, nervous and increasingly worried as well as excited about wanting more of you.

“You little—”

“I just couldn't let you sleep for only an hour and a half before you had to get up for the airport," you interrupted him, placing yourself between his legs as you brushed his bare thighs with yours. “What would your wife think if she saw you coming home with dark circles under your eyes and hickeys on your neck, all over your chest, and what about your d—?”

Her eyes roamed up and down your legs. Then, he started to look up at your pussy to go to your breasts, where he could see a lot more red marks around them than he remembered you getting.

“Do you think that's funny?” Jenson asked you in a low, menacing tone.

You bit your lip and couldn't help but laugh.

“Yeah, sort of.”

You didn't say anything else. Neither did he. 

He quickly grabbed you by the wrist, and forced you to the floor. Panting, but you didn't resist; at least, that's what you had shown him the night before, where he ruined you in ways you never thought a man could ruin you, especially if he was 20 years older than you.

“If I'm going to be even later, make it worth it.”

“Listen to me: every time you fuck your wife from now on, you're going to remember me whether you like it or not. I’m already imagining you moaning my name while you’re between her thighs…”

Jenson spread his legs, his cock half erect. 

Your eyes widened as you finished making yourself comfortable in front of him, a big smile playing between his lips. You wrapped your hand around his cock, and began to stroke it slowly and torturously.

“Don't fucking tease yourself. Open your mouth.”

You obeyed instantly. With your eyes on his, you stuck your tongue out and began to lick his cock until you decided to take it in halfway. Jenson let out a groan, making a ponytail with your hair and pulling on it, forcing you to take it further.

“You like ruining my schedule, don’t you? Let's see if this teaches you to stop being a bad girl.”

He began to fuck your mouth, without slow rhythms or mercy. His hips moved forward with great speed, his left hand still encircling your hair to guide the rhythm and your lips wrapped around his cock as tears appeared in your eyes. You felt small retches, but you kept going, moaning as Jenson did.

“Filthy little girl..." he grunted. “Look at you: sucking my cock as if your mouth was made just for that. Although I think it is... What do you think? Agree with me?”

You moaned again, though louder this time, cupping your cheeks to force his cock deeper into you. You started touching your clit; you were horny, too horny, and you needed to cum before Jenson had a chance to make you cum.

“Keep it going, darling. You’re doing wonderfully…”

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door.

You both froze, but you went about your business until, again, the knocks were heard again followed by the voice you least wanted to hear in a situation like this:

“Princess?”

Of course, it was your father. His voice was calm, curious, although he also sounded a little worried.

“Are you all right? You haven't come down for breakfast, and it's pretty late, so I was wondering if you were okay…”

You gasped, opening your eyes wide as you now masturbated Jenson's cock with your hands while making little circles on the tip, something that seemed to be driving him crazy with the way he was throwing his head back.

Jenson, however, didn't move or flinch, as if it wasn’t the first time he was in that situation.

“Answer him. Now.”

You shook your head, shoving his cock back into your mouth to avoid listening to him, panicking about your father catching you with one of his best friends...like this.

Jenson laughed; he lifted your chin, forcing you to stop eating him, and stroked your lip with his thumb.

“Y/N, is everything really ok?” Fernando spoke again.

You swallowed hard as you tried to catch your breath, still on your knees and with the taste of Jenson's precum in your mouth.

“I'm—” your voice cracked, but you quickly cleared your voice and continued: “I'm fine, Dad! I just... I had a terrible night and fell asleep. Sorry!”

You didn't get an answer, but you did hear footsteps that were more than enough for you to know that your father had already left.

Jenson leaned toward you, brushing his lips against your ear, biting it softly.

“Do you think he would still trust me if he knew I had his little girl kneeling in front of me and sucking my cock like a whore?”

You let out a shaky sigh, your cheeks immediately becoming flushed. 

“Do you want to keep going?” Jenson asked, jerking his cock as he regained his composure.

You nodded, out of breath and letting your adrenaline take over.

“God, yes. Fuck my dad.”

Just as you were about to put your length back in, he pulled away, leaving you confused and saliva dripping from your lips.

“Stand up,” he ordered. ”I want you lying on your back on the bed. I hope you remember that things here are done the way I want.”

And you couldn't be more grateful for the control he had over you. You loved it. 

You sat up, trying not to let your legs shake too much. You climbed onto the mattress, taking off your shirt so that you were completely naked before him, and opening your legs without a hint of shyness so that he could see how wet you were without any shame; the mess he had turned you into with just a blowjob.

Jenson climbed on top of you, barely bothering to give you any sweet words or slow caresses. Instead, he grabbed your thighs, pulled them apart and brutally rammed into you.

“This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He grunted, ramming into you at a tremendous pace. “You wanted me to miss my flight so you could act all bratty with me and I could fuck you hard, huh?”

“Yes, fuck, yes…” you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Harder, Jenson, please...”

He obeyed, ramming you again and again, without stopping or giving you time to catch your breath, each thrust harder than the last. The headboard hit the wall, and you completely forgot that Oscar Piastri was the one in the room next to yours, and that he would surely ask you, sjyly, who it was that was making you feel so good.

Your moans turned into screams the moment he started rubbing your clit the wildest way possible.

“You can't believe you're going to tease me the way you've been doing and stay so quiet without paying,“ he growled against your neck. “I'm going to fuck you that hard you're going to feel me for days. You're not going to be able to walk and you're going to have to make up an excuse... unless you want to tell your father that it was me who did this to you because you're a whore who likes older men.”

You moaned underneath her, trying to hold back the orgasm you knew was about to come. Your fingernails were scratching his back, and you couldn't help but get aroused at the thought of his wife seeing them and interrogating him.

“I want it all, Jenson. I want it all from you, fuck…”

Jenson grabbed your wrists and held them above your head, fucking you even harder even though you thought it wasn't possible. You felt your body and mind were beginning to act separately; your body shuddered not only with every thrust, but with every word, every caress, that man devoted to you.

“Didn't you say you wanted me to fuck you hard? Well, I hope you won't complain about the consequences,” he hissed.

You couldn't hold back any longer. You began to scream. His name. That he would keep fucking you. That you were his. Your legs were shaking like hell; your body was arching as if you were possessing yourself, crumbling before him completely.

“Come for me, baby,” he commanded, rubbing your clit rapidly as his thrusts didn't slow down. 

Your orgasm tore you apart inside. Strong, violent, your whole body shaking uncontrollably as you screamed his name, shocked by the intensity that had just hit you. Your pussy clenched around his cock so tightly that you wrenched Jenson's orgasm from him seconds later, cumming inside you with little regard for the consequences.

Jenson collapsed beside you the moment he carefully pulled out, not without first cleaning up the mess he'd made between your thighs with his tongue, overstimulating you just enough to make you squirm, though he stopped before pushing you into a second orgasm.

You were both drenched in sweat, panting heavily, struggling to catch your breath and regain some semblance of composure. Your hair was a wild mess, your lips swollen, and your bodies marked with a generous collection of hickeys and scratches, marks you were both immensely proud of, despite the inevitable consequences.

But that was the least of your concerns right now.

"You're trouble, Y/N Alonso," Jenson muttered, his eyes fixed on you, his hand lazily tracing the curve of your waist.

"And that’s exactly what you love about me. Let me remind you: you’re the one with a family. I’m not."

He sighed, as if silently agreeing with you, though without a trace of regret. He rolled over and pulled you into his arms, delivering a few playful slaps to your ass.

"The next time you turn off the alarm I swear I’m tying you to the bed and blindfolding you. That way you won’t know what I’ll be doing when I decide to torture you."

You laughed, though deep down, the filthiest part of you was already plotting something outrageous for your next encounter just to see if he was a man of his words.

"When’s the next time you’re coming to a race with SkySports?" you asked, your voice dripping with faux innocence, though your intentions were anything but that. "You know… so I can misbehave again. And you can punish me.

[hrtfelt4u]

guest check. | sohee lee.

019. cupid wya? (written portion)

“Who said shot? Did I hear that right?”

“What!? Who said that!?”

Your eyes close involuntarily, hearing Sungchan and Wonbin amp each other up. Half of the people in the crowded kitchen are groaning, others cheering in rambunctious energy. 

You’ve learned your lesson the last time, pre-gaming with this certain crowd, and have eaten a solid meal two hours before this time round. Even then, it couldn’t help how tipsy you already were from your friends’ rapid pace at shots. 

Every seven to ten minutes, they were pressing a red button that blared like a tornado warning, letting everyone know it was time to get really fucked up tonight.

“I’m out. I can’t get nauseous like last time.” Kazuha blows hair away from her face, joining you sitting on the back of the couch, facing the kitchen entryway. 

You were far out enough from the madness to not be roped into more alcohol easily. The same couldn’t be said for Liz though, who’s nursing a seltzer near the fridge, chatting to Shotaro and easily accepting a shot glass. 

“Smart choice. I think all of the single people in this room are going hella hard.” You muse, giggling as you watch Sohee pull a face, downing his second shot for the night. 

He told you a while back he almost never got fully drunk, always paranoid and wanting to watch over others. If that was his second shot, he was done drinking, probably only sipping a beer for the rest of the night. 

You wonder if he’d hold true to that though, since things you’ve been believing about Sohee have been shifting last night. After all the thinking you’ve done about him (not out of the usual), you’ve decided that you’ve taken advantage of how much Sohee does for you. 

He drives you to and from work, whether inconvenient for him or not. He reminds you to put your work hoodie in with your laundry, since you let it sit out in the living room. He puts your hair ties that are always littered around the apartment, on your bedroom door knob so you stop asking texting the group chat where they are. He cleans the dishes you leave in the sink, even if you yell at everyone in the apartment to not do them.

Entertains your rambles about your awful professor for Medical Nutrition Therapy. Responds in sympathy to your 2 A.M. screams of homework frustration with his own through the wall. Even buys a honeybun for you when you eye it during your semi-frequent visits to the convenience store together (You’re confident he only gets one for himself to make you feel less alone in the sweet treat.)

Yes, Sohee wore you down in order for all those things to happen. Zuha and Liz were always scolding you about being stupid and stubborn about acts of kindness— little things friends would do just because they care and want to make your day easier. 

It was just a hard thing for you to accept without wanting to immediately return the favor. But, maybe it’s because you wanted to see his specific acts of kindness as something more.

Since Sohee had started icing you out last night, you’ve been forced to see how much you actually care about him. See how he easily changes you for the better, making you forget about the stressors of life and live in the moment. 

Balancing work, school, a social life, while also worrying about things like groceries, your mom, making rent, tuition, and scholarships was not for the weak. You’ve been carrying all of it for so long the past few years, you didn’t realize how heavy your shoulders were with stress. 

Being with Sohee felt like that weight was lifted though. It was like the air was breathable again, laughing about something random with him. Debating stupid topics and scenarios that would never happen in a million years, or something serious, like your dreams, your nightmares, your worst fears.

With how much time you spend considering him in your daily life, his name occupying your thoughts like no other, it’s easy to discern why he’s being this way— barely interacting with you and keeping a distance. 

It was Riku. 

Anton, Seunghan, and Sohee’s original chosen roommate. Your friend from home who happened to be kind enough to offer you his room while he was gone this semester. 

You can only guess that Riku threatened the guys along some line. He was protective that way and always has been since you two were kids. Even if you weren’t the closest friends, you had each other’s back from a distance growing up. Whether it be him hearing you’d just been broken up with in high school, or you hearing he didn’t get into his dream college, it was a comfort to fall back to a familiar face.

So it’s not shocking that Sohee cares enough to not disrespect his roommate, one of his close friends. Someone he’s chosen to be like family while away for university. You understand it, but it didn’t hurt any less for him to treat you differently. 

You knew the way you and Sohee interacted was not normal for friends, let alone roommates. And you knew Anton and Seunghan knew, deciding to mind their own business to give you two some peace of mind. 

Sohee’s avoidance of you still didn’t feel great, no matter the reasoning you applied to the situation. You couldn’t help but feel discarded, like you meant so little to Sohee at the drop of a dime. Like all the feelings you’ve been developing for him, maybe for each other.. didn’t matter to him at all.

You’ve been desperately pushing those thoughts away all day, because you could tell Sohee was in a hard position. You felt bad because you knew for someone that was so loyal and steadfast to his friends, him liking you was possibly the worst to happen to him in a while.

So… you take a deep breath, looking away first when Sohee makes eye contact with you over all the commotion going on. You choose to be the one to step away to avoid being hurt, avoid getting your heart played with. You were in no easy position to be fooling around, occupying your mind with the what-ifs of being happy in a relationship, when a relationship should be at the bottom of your priority list right now. 

Taking a sip from your beer, you remind yourself of that as Kazuha recalls the last time you’d helped her while drunk. 

“— before I fell on my ass from that tree. Yeah, as long as I never get that drunk again, I’m safe.”

You giggle at the story, reminiscing saving her from a concussion on a crazy night out. 

“Just don’t ever put me in a position to catch you from a tree again.”

“Roger that,” Zuha salutes, cuddling beside you, “Have you tried to talk to Haewon yet?”

At the mention of Seunghan’s friend/girlfriend? You look over to the red-haired girl, who’s laughing at someone’s joke and leaning subtly on Hannie. 

“No, the thought hasn’t even crossed my mind until you reminded me now. She’s intimidating.”

Kazuha gives you a small side eye. “Whatever her deal is, just handle it with grace and kindness.”

“Yeah,” You agree, scratching at the crown of your head, “I hope she has a valid reason for disliking me, besides something being a misunderstanding. Otherwise… well, I don’t want to be the one to say to Hannie he has shit taste in women.”

Your friend snorts into your shoulder, hiding her smile. “Yeah. Okay, good luck girl.” 

When Kazuha pulls away to stand up, your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Oh, what? You’re making me do it now?”

“Yeah, what better time is there? We’re about to leave for Jiung’s soon. Look, she’s going to the bathroom down the hall. Go.” 

With an internal groan, Zuha slaps your ass in good luck as you walk down the hall, following Haewon. She’s about to turn into the bathroom but you make a sound similar to a yelp, catching her attention. 

“Haewon! Hey, could I talk to you for a second?” 

Her bottom lip juts out, clearly annoyed. “Sure, but let me use the bathroom first.” 

You put a hand out, walking closer. 

“It’s quick, I promise! I um, maybe I’m getting the wrong impression but— I have a feeling you don’t really like me. I’m not sure why but I don’t want to have any issues between us so… if there’s some misunderstanding, do let me know.” 

At that, Haewon fully turns to face you, head tilting in a mocking way. 

“Really? Do you not know or are you just playing dumb?” 

All the saliva in your mouth dries. You’re so shocked at her bluntness, you’re silent, unable to respond. 

She scoffs, smiling in a way that makes you feel small. 

“Wow, you really don’t. Well, let me remind you, YN— I’m friends with Taesan. I’m sure you don’t remember him because of all the guys you play with, but he’s a good friend of mine. You played with his feelings all of last spring, which broke his heart, and I’m not friendly to bitches that like to string people along. Imagine my surprise, seeing someone I’m talking to, living with the likes of you.”

You stutter, eyes going wide. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Now listen, since you had the bravery to come up and ask me whether we have an issue? Know that we do. Keep your shifty eyes to your fucking self and then we won’t have a bigger one. Got it?” 

You swallow harshly, feeling angered and belittled beyond belief. 

“I don’t know… where you got the assumption that I did your friend wrong but it’s not true. So if you’re going to insinuate that I’m a fucking slut, do gets your facts straight first—”

“Hey!”

A cheerful greeting interrupts you, Hannie’s head popping over the end of the hallway with a grin planted on his face. 

“Everything okay?” 

His question started off cheerful but ended in slight confusion at you and Haewon’s clear tension. You’re more pissed off as you hear her tone shift. 

“Hi! Yeah, we’re good. Just a little line for the bathroom. I’ll be quick, YN.” Haewon smiles brightly at you, before ducking into the small room and locking the door. 

You desperately try to calm your breathing and bring your shoulders down, feeling Hannie start to approach your figure in concern. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, YN?” 

You don’t even know where to start, mind still reeling from the accusations that so easily passed from Haewon’s mouth. As you look at Seunghan now, a smile halfway between genuine and cautious, you’re baffled that someone you’ve grown to be friends with quickly could be with someone like that. 

He did know at all what Haewon just said to you?

Your eyebrows raise, before you scoff, laughing a little at this situation. Licking your lips, you nod. “How about you ask Haewon?”

“... What?”

“Ask Haewon when she gets out of the bathroom. She’ll tell you all that you need to know.”

You know it’s irrational to take your feelings out of Hannie but it happens anyway as you walk past your roommate, refusing to look behind you. 

“YN, wait a second—” 

You feel Seunghan gently take a hold of your elbow and you turn sharply, eyes ablaze. 

“Ask her what she thinks of me and see whether it matches what you know. Then get back to me, will you?” 

Ignoring Hannie’s hurt expression, you swallow harshly and avoid looking anyone in the eye as you storm to your bedroom. You’re trying hard to calm down, unable to even consider going back out there while knowing Haewon was going to casually waltz back in like everything was normal. 

Everything she accused you of wasn’t true.

Yeah, you had talked to Taesan, but stringing him along? Absolutely not. Last spring, you maybe texted on and off for two weeks before things fizzled out and you never talked again. In fact, he was the one that left you on read, and every time you pass him on campus, he sharply avoids your gaze. Was this random man that you hadn’t even thought of in ages lying about you to his friend?

A knock on your door brings you out of your angry reverie. 

“You good?” Kazuha asks cautiously, sticking her head into your room. 

You roughly wave her in, hands going to your temples in exasperation. 

“Go grab me a shot. We have a problem.”

___

(ignore timestamps unless stated otherwise)

author’s note: sorry for making haewon evil, i love her and all of nmixx i swear <3

previous | masterlist | next

taglist (closed): @dutifullyannoyingstrawberrie @reibbons @amortiff @banez @totalnieparksunghoon @holyhaech @jvngw0nlvr @the-phantomss @hsified @aangelll0 @heewrld @jaellymint @nekotoni @imsosoheee @hanniehq @dearmynayeon @kitty-won07 @w3willris3 @kamelyrics @rksbae @jungwonbropls @kyubing @buns-inhiding @taroddori @niinaskrr @enaile23 @sunflowerbebe07

(c) hrtfelt4u 2025

[milkykityway]

Hello! I ask you to do Bangchan as a bf please ☺️

Bangchan as a boy friend

**For entertainment purposes only — based on current energy, which may shift over time. I read with care , not assumption, and I honor what the cards reveal without judgment or distortion.**

Protective, Loyal, and All-In

(The Emperor, The Lovers, King of Wands)

Leader in Love The Emperor energy:Bangchan has a strong presence in a relationship — he naturally takes on the role of the one who protects, plans ahead, and keeps things grounded—not in a dominant way, but with a protective kind of care. If something’s bothering you, he wants to help shoulder it. He gives structure when life feels unsteady. He’s emotionally responsible, never careless with your heart. He wants to be the kind of partner you can lean on emotionally, mentally, and practically.

Leads with Quiet Confidence: King of Wands warmth and charisma. He’s magnetic, reliable, and steady the kind of guy you can lean on, who’ll take the lead when you’re too tired to. But he never overpowers — he empowers.

When He Chooses, It’s Serious: The Lovers card says he won’t get into a relationship lightly. Once he’s chosen someone, that’s it. He’s deeply committed, body and soul.

Emotionally Grounded but Still Sweet

(Page of Cups, Two of Pentacles, Nine of Pentacles)

Sweet, Boyish Love Language: With Page of Cups, he brings a gentleness that’s unexpectedly tender. Expect soft compliments, warm hugs, inside jokes, maybe even little gifts or notes. His affection is creative, innocent, and deeply personal. He’s the type to remember tiny details about you — what you like, what soothes you, what makes you laugh.

Balancing Act: He might juggle a lot (work, team, self-pressure), but he’ll try hard to keep the relationship a priority. You’d feel how much he wants to be present, even if he gets overwhelmed.

Proud of You, But Never Controlling: He loves having an independent partner. He admires strength in others and wouldn’t try to hold you back — he’d encourage your growth just as much as his own.

Deep Inner World, Rarely Shown

(High Priestess, Eight of Swords rx)

Private Heart: He has a lot going on emotionally, but he keeps much of it to himself. You’d see glimpses — quiet moments of vulnerability — but he doesn’t like burdening others with his struggles.

Healing Through Connection: Love with the right person helps him feel free. When he trusts you, he opens up more — but it takes time. His walls aren’t because of you, they’re built from pressure and responsibility.

Humble, Thoughtful, but Self-Critical

(Six of Wands rx, Eight of Swords rx)

Doesn’t Crave Praise, Just Wants to Be Enough: Even if he’s achieving a lot on the outside, he might quietly wonder if he’s doing enough for you emotionally. He wants to be the kind of partner that adds to your life.

Sensitive About Failure: If there’s a fight or misunderstanding, he might go quiet — not out of avoidance, but because he’s hard on himself. He needs reassurance that it’s okay to not be perfect.

Bright, Uplifting, and Joy-Oriented

(The Sun, King of wands)

Loves to See You Happy: He lights up when you light up. He’d go out of his way to bring joy into your day, whether it’s sending you a funny meme, cooking something for you, or making time when it’s hard. His presence would feel safe and sunny — a little emotional shelter from the world.“Your joy is my joy. I’ll stand by you in your dark days and your brightest ones.”

Affectionate and Passionate: There’s fire and fun in this connection — King of Wands gives him a passionate, flirty side, especially when he’s comfortable. Expect warm touches, deep eye contact, and bursts of playful energy.

Overall Bang Chan as a boyfriend is a steady flame not loud, but constant. He leads with loyalty, listens with intuition, and protects with care. His love is warm, emotionally grounded, and soulfully intentional the kind that brings peace, depth, and joy all at once. He doesn’t want a perfect relationship — he wants a real one. One where you both grow, both heal, and both feel safe being exactly who you are.

[jessesluvr]

Please write an imagine where reader is pregnant with another man’s baby ( he died, or something.) and Jesse takes it upon himself to be there for you starting out with little things then you eventually invite him to a doctors appointment and he sees the baby and realizes he is in love with reader and wants to raise this baby together. When Jesse goes on patrol reader is sad not cause she fears for his safety she trusts his instincts but because she loved going on patrol but now can’t so she is in the radio tower listening to the reports from everyone on patrol. And Jesse coming back and she decides to take care of him whether it’s smut, cooking for him, or doing something she knows he would enjoy.

what we build | jesse x pregnant!reader

author's note : jesse the MAN that you ARE. i'm so in love with him, it hurts. i absolutely enjoyed writing this and kind of got carried away.. i might even make another oneshot as a "part 2" to this just because i feel like there could still be more touched on. anyways, please enjoy !

warnings : pregnancy, grief, loss

summary : after losing your partner, grief isolates you—until jesse quietly, consistently shows up, offering comfort without expectation and love without pressure. as your bond deepens through late-night talks, doctor visits, and finally the birth of your child, you realize that what you’ve built together isn’t just healing—it’s home.

word count : 2k

the days after he died were a blur.

people said the right things. they brought food in baskets you never finished. they offered help you didn’t know how to accept. they looked at you with soft eyes and sad smiles, their voices dipped in sympathy.

but then they left. they always left.

he didn’t.

jesse stayed.

at first it was practical.

he brought supplies. firewood. extra canned food. blankets from the storeroom that he said maria told him to deliver (you knew she hadn’t). once, he dropped off an old record player someone had fixed up, along with a few dusty vinyls.

“not sure what you’re into,” he’d said, setting them on your porch. “but i figured silence gets loud after a while.”

it did.

you hadn’t turned the music on. not yet. but you didn’t throw it out, either.

your relationship with jesse before that had always been light.

he was the guy who made the patrol schedule work even when everyone hated it. he was the one who cracked jokes around the campfire and made ellie laugh when no one else could. he’d been your friend’s friend. part of your life, but not really part of you.

but now… now he showed up. and not just in body.

he was present in this steady, dependable way that no one else managed.

he didn’t talk about your partner unless you did. he didn’t push you to move on or smile or pretend to be okay. he just… stood beside you in the quiet.

sometimes he’d fix things around your place without asking—tighten a loose hinge, patch a leak, clear the gutters. once, you came home from a doctor’s visit to find your porch railing sanded and re-stained.

you sat next to him on the steps while it dried, both of you watching the trees sway in the wind.

“you don’t have to do all this,” you said quietly.

jesse shrugged. “maybe not. but i want to.”

one night, you’d fallen asleep on the couch—body sore, nausea still lingering. you woke to a blanket tucked around you, the faint smell of woodsmoke, and a low, steady voice humming a song you didn’t recognize.

jesse was sitting in the chair across from you, one leg bouncing slightly. a book in his hand.

he looked up, surprised. “sorry. didn’t mean to wake you.”

you blinked at him, groggy. “how long have you been here?”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “couple hours. figured i’d stay until you got up.”

you stared at him, something shifting inside you.

“thank you,” you whispered.

jesse smiled, soft and real. “anytime.”

you started asking for him.

not constantly. just here and there. when you needed someone to walk to the market with. when the baby kicked hard enough to make you catch your breath and you needed someone to talk to about it. when your chest felt too heavy to carry alone.

he always showed up.

you started keeping a mug just for him in your kitchen. it was chipped, navy blue, with a little “j” you’d scratched into the side with a nail when you were bored one day. you never mentioned it. but he used it every time.

sometimes, at night, he’d stay late and talk about old memories—about how jackson used to be before they got the lights running again, how joel tried (and failed) to build a fence one summer, how his parents used to sneak him treats from the dining hall when he was a kid.

you didn’t realize you’d fallen in love with the sound of his voice until the night he said your name like it meant something.

“you’re not alone in this,” he told you, fingers gently brushing your knuckles. “even if the world tries to make you feel like you are.”

one morning, early enough that the sky was still pale gray, you had a nightmare.

you woke up gasping, cold sweat clinging to your skin, your hand on your belly like it might disappear.

before you could think, you were on the radio.

“jesse?” your voice cracked. “you awake?”

you half-expected silence. but within seconds:

“i’m here. what’s wrong?”

you swallowed hard. “can you—could you come over?”

“yeah,” he said. “on my way.”

you opened the door for him and stood there in your pajamas, shivering.

jesse stepped inside and didn’t say anything. he just wrapped his arms around you and held on.

you buried your face in his shoulder and cried.

you asked him to come to the doctor’s appointment not long after that.

he blinked, surprised, but didn’t hesitate.

“of course,” he said. “i’d be honored.”

and he meant it. you could see it in the way he cleaned the mud off his boots before entering the clinic, in the way he sat beside you so still, knees bouncing only slightly.

when the sound of the heartbeat filled the room, his eyes went wide—like hearing proof of life was more than he knew how to handle.

“that’s really them,” he said quietly, gaze fixed on the monitor. “they’re really in there.”

you laughed, tears in your eyes. “yeah. they are.”

he looked at you, then. really looked. like he was seeing you for the first time and understanding everything all at once.

“you’re incredible,” he whispered.

and something about the way he said it made you believe it, even just for a second.

after that, things weren’t so quiet.

you started spending your evenings together without excuses. he helped organize the baby clothes you’d been gifted. he offered to paint the nursery walls—even though the paint was dry and chipping and barely covered anything.

he started bringing over little things. wood carvings. a stuffed bunny he found in a trading bin. a book of baby names (you’d both laughed until you cried at the weirdest ones).

he made you laugh again. not fake laughter. real laughter. the kind you hadn’t heard from yourself in months.

and every time he touched your belly—whether on purpose or just accidentally—your heart ached with something bigger than gratitude.

one night, you both sat in front of the fireplace. the room was warm, shadows flickering against the walls. outside, snow fell in silent sheets.

jesse was half-asleep, slouched next to you with a blanket draped over both of your shoulders. your head rested on his chest.

his fingers traced idle circles on your arm.

“can i ask you something?” you said, quietly.

he hummed in response.

“why did you stay?”

he was quiet for a long time.

then he shifted, just enough to look down at you.

“because when he died, i saw how fast people backed away. how scared they were to deal with grief. with pregnancy. with you needing something they couldn’t name.”

you swallowed, throat tight.

“i wasn’t scared,” he added. “i am scared sometimes. but not of you. not of this.”

“then what?” you asked, barely breathing.

he smiled, eyes tired and warm. “just scared of not being the man you need.”

you reached for his hand and placed it over your stomach.

“you already are.”

and from then on, there was no line between “you” and “him.”

there was just us.

a quiet kind of us. the kind you built in the stillness. in morning light. in shared silence. in whispered promises that didn’t need to be spoken out loud.

the kind that grows slowly.

the kind that lasts.

the days started bleeding together again as winter deepened.

your body ached constantly now. your back, your legs, your ribs. sleep came in short, shallow bursts, interrupted by the baby shifting, pushing, growing. jesse was there through all of it.

he read to you at night when you couldn’t rest. rubbed your shoulders when they seized up with tension. walked slower than he needed to on your grocery trips just to match your pace. you tried to pretend you weren’t counting the days, but he could see it on your face every time you looked at the calendar.

he never said “soon.” he just said “you’ve got this.”

and somehow, that was better.

the day it happened, there wasn’t a warning.

just a deep, low cramp in your lower belly. not like the little flutters and tightness you’d gotten used to.

this was sharp. grounding. final.

you were standing in the kitchen, staring out the window at the snow-covered trees when it hit again—stronger.

you leaned on the counter, sucking in a breath.

then came the next one.

you barely made it to the radio.

“jesse?” your voice was hoarse, barely holding together. “you there?”

his voice crackled in immediately, calm as ever. “yeah. you okay?”

“no,” you breathed. “it’s time. i think it’s time.”

silence, then a sharp intake of breath. “i’m coming. hang on.”

minutes passed. they felt like hours.

then the door burst open.

jesse didn’t hesitate. he crossed the room in three long strides and wrapped his arms around you like a net catching something falling from a high place.

“how far apart?” he asked.

“five minutes,” you gasped. “maybe less.”

his jaw tightened, but his voice stayed steady. “okay. we’re going. now.”

the clinic was ready for you.

maria was already there, hands warm and firm on your shoulders. the doctor, dani, moved fast but gentle. candles flickered. blankets layered the cot.

jesse never left your side.

he held your hand through every contraction, wiped sweat from your brow, whispered encouragement like a prayer.

you screamed once—a raw, ripping sound—and his fingers tightened around yours like a lifeline.

“you’ve got this,” he whispered. “you’re almost there. i’ve got you. you’re not alone.”

time blurred.

pain, pressure, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

then, finally—sharp release.

and crying.

not yours. not jesse’s.

a baby’s.

high and loud and full of life.

you collapsed back into the bed, body trembling, sobs hitting you like waves.

they placed the baby on your chest, tiny and warm and perfect.

jesse was beside you, wiping tears off your cheeks with a shaking hand, his own eyes wet.

“you did it, you did amazing,” he breathed. “you’re… god, you’re incredible.”

you looked down at the little bundle on your chest, their mouth opening and closing in soft, startled gasps.

“we did it,” you said.

jesse laughed, breathless and cracked and so full of emotion you thought your chest might break.

hours later, the world felt still again.

jesse sat beside you in the dim clinic room, baby tucked against his chest now, your hand in his lap.

you watched them together.

his thumb gently brushed across the baby’s cheek. he looked terrified and awestruck and completely, irrevocably in love.

“he doesn’t have a name yet,” you said, your voice still a little raw. “i wanted to wait. to see.”

jesse looked up at you, eyes soft. “have you thought of one?”

you nodded. “yeah. jesse jr, or jj for short.”

he smiled at you and you swore you could see a couple tears leak out.

he leaned down, kissed your forehead. “it fits. he’s gonna be so loved.”

you rested your head against his shoulder.

“jesse,” you said quietly, “you don’t have to stay. not if it’s too much. not if—”

“stop,” he said, voice gentle but firm.

you blinked up at him.

“i’m not going anywhere. i want to be here. this is where i belong.”

he looked at the baby again, then back at you.

“you and him… you’re my family.”

that night, the three of you went home together.

jesse carried the baby like a sacred thing, careful and proud. you walked beside him, slower now, but lighter. like some part of the weight you’d been carrying finally shifted.

inside, your home felt different. like it had been waiting for this moment all along.

you laid down in bed while jesse rocked the baby to sleep.

you watched him—this man who had walked into your life in quiet pieces and built a whole future from broken parts.

and you knew, without doubt or fear, that the life you'd lost wasn't gone.

it had just changed shape.

[starlight-bread-blog]

I'm caught up. I really don't know how to celebrate, so I'll write my stages as a fan.

Romance Dawn

I'm never finishing this. I have no intention to. I'll just watch until I give up.

Orange Town

This is nice. Still not finishing it.

Syrup Village

Okay what the hell is up with the character desig- OH MY GOD THEY'RE DONE FOR.

Baratie

Oh... I see. I see. I see what's being set up here. Too bad I'll never see the payoff.

Arlong Park

WHO SAID ONE PIECE ONLY GETS GOOD AFTER 7483891 EPISODES???

Loguetown

*Grabs a notebook* Okay so we need to find out what the One Piece is, who the man who saved Luffy is, why was there a lightning... how is he similar to Roger...

Reverse Mountain-Little Garden

It's not just Luffy. EVERYONE is an idiot.

Drum Island

Is this the kind of show where a cute creature is traumatized?

Arabasta

I'm SO glad I started One Piece. Also I'm into shipping now. #Namivivi.

Jaya

Haha... Luffy's so strong.

Skypidea

People skip this? It's so funny???

Water 7

We've been through so much together...

Enies Lobby

This might be my favorite anime... no... it's too soon... it's not THAT good yet...

Thriller Bark

I get why it's skipped. Nothing happened.

Sabaody Archipelago

I must continue. I must.

Amazon Lily

Aroace Luffy #confirmed.

Impel Down

WE'RE HERE! WE'RE QUEER! GET USED TO IT- *Bursts into tears*

Marineford

When was the last time a piece of fiction made me feel like this?

Return to Sabaody

HAHAHAHAHA LUFFY'S SO STRONG!!!

Fish-Man Island

Huh. Um. Okay. But I do need to rewatch Baratie because I must regain my love of Sanji.

Punk Hazard

I cannot hear the words "One Piece" without bursting out laughing.

Dressrosa

*Mocking tone* "OH MY GOD THEY'RE DONE FOR" I was so naive back in the day.

Zou

*In shock* ......Huh.

Whole Cake Island

My love for Sanji is back stronger than ever.

Reverie

*Excessively writing on a murder board* SHANKS???? KING OF THE WORLD??? SABO "KILLED" VIVI'S DAD?

Wano

This is one of my favorite stories ever told.

Egghead

This is me now. It has been an amazing experience. When I started it, I couldn't enjoy anything. But One Piece changed that. I wanted to watch One Piece, which was insane at the time.

Almost every parameter in this show is exceptional. The action is hype, the characters are well written, the worldbuilding and the mystery element are captivating, the theme of hope is explored thoroughly, and while doing all that, it's actually funny.

How many animes you can name that genuinely made you laugh like this? Not too many, right? Here, it's done in a show where comedy isn't even the main focus. Minor or major, the characters are so well characterized that every interaction between them is writing itself. And it's funny. Except when it's not.

When Zoro and Sanji fight in Thriller Bark over who's going to die for Luffy, it's because of both's specific traumas interacting. When Sanji insults Luffy and Nami to keep them at bay, he's doing so in ways specifically insensitive to them. He knows how to read people because he payed attention to it all his life, so he calls Nami, a woman whose trauma relates to money, "poor". Every minor detail in their interactions, whether comedic or not, is tailor made for them.

Additionally, while everyone's so different, all their storylines convey the same message, creating a theme that's showcased from all possible angles. I see a lot of people characterize One Piece's message as being purely about dreams or purely about politics. In my eyes, it's impossible to discuss one without the other. One Piece starts out about achieving dreams, and moves on to political injustice – both topics that require hope, faith and will-power to "solve". It's about trying, on all scales.

And when people choose to try, it's powerful.

When they endure, it's felt.

When they celebrate, it's joyous.

When they fail, it's painful.

When they win, it's glorious.

When they banter, it's a delight.

I love One Piece. I'm glad I had the honor of consuming it. The only think I'm bummed out about is that now I have to wait a week for a new episode. I guess that's the post-Egghead mood.

I have some bad news. Yersterday I finished the live action One Piece... and... I'm hooked. I'm gonna have to watch the anime. Oh my god... over a thousand episodes... my life is over for good...

Wish me luck.

[cheshireliam]

"Once Again, An Evil From Which You Can't Return" Story Event: Chapter 2

Liam Evans & Harrison Gray

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

This event story works in such a way that Chapter 1 is for Suitor A and Chapter 2 is for Suitor B, before splitting into two endings.

The night I went to see Liam’s play.

I couldn’t fall asleep… so I was returning to my room from the kitchen with a cup of warm milk in my hand.

On the way, I heard a voice coming from the dimly lit hallway where moonlight was streaming in.

???: Don’t let it bother you too much. 

I stood there in wonder of who the voice belonged to, and its owner emerged from the shadows. 

(Harrison…) 

Kate: You could tell? 

Harrison: Yeah. You can’t lie to save your life. You’re probably the furthest thing from a real liar I’ve ever met. 

Kate: A-am I that easy to read?

Harrison: About time you realised that yourself. 

He narrowed his eyes like a sly fox from a fairytale story. 

I had no recollection of what kind of conversations I had with them before I lost my memories, or whether we went on missions together. But…

(For him to be concerned about me… Harrison must be a kind person.) 

Kate: You’re right, Harrison… the matter has been weighing  on my mind. 

Kate: Ever since losing my memories, it's like there’s been something lingering deep in my chest… 

Kate: Everyone is telling me how I used to be, what I used to do, but… none of it feels real, and that scares me. 

All the emotions I had been keeping bottled up poured out at once, and Harrison spoke gently in response. 

Harrison: Then why not… treat it like a mystery to solve and have fun with it?

Kate: Treat it like a mystery and have fun with it…?

Harrison: Yeah. Right now, there’s endless possibilities laid out in front of you, the future is wide open. 

Harrison: There’s a possibility you had every member of Crown wrapped around your little finger, or maybe you were their top detective, solving even the toughest cases left and right. 

Kate: Fufu, what even is that… 

Harrison’s absurd suggestions caught me off guard, but they did melt the tension away and make me laugh. 

Harrison: Or maybe, for example—

Harrison: —... Kate. I’m your lover. 

Kate: … 

The tender, aching tone of his words resonated in my ears. When I looked up, I saw Harrison grinning in contrast to the seriousness I heard in his voice.

Harrison: Just kidding… Was that a lie? Or the truth? 

Kate: … Are you saying that’s one of the possibilities too? 

Harrison: Exactly. Did you fall for it? 

Kate: … I did. Your facial expression was so serious, I almost believed you…

Harrison: In any case, regardless of whether what I said was true… you really should try taking things a little easier. 

Kate: Yeah… you’re right. Thank you, Harrison. I think I’ll try moving on and working towards getting my memories back with a more positive mindset. 

Harrison: That’s the spirit. … And if you’d like, I could even help you out. 

Kate: Really? In that case, I’d love that…! 

…

The next day, he really did agree to go outside with me.

He said he’d take me to places I’d been to before, and the first location was—

… 

Kate: That's a lot of books…

Harrison: This is where you chased me down, saying you wanted to know more about my curse. 

Kate: So that happened… 

Harrison: Now, was that a lie or the truth? 

Kate: Geez, there’s no way I’d know that without my memories, okay? 

Harrison: Looks like nothing’s clicking yet. Guess we’re off to the next location. 

…

The next place he took me to was a café filled with the sweet aroma of baked treats.

Kate: Mmm… it melts in my mouth. I’ve never had ricotta pancakes this fluffy before! 

Harrison: Second time you’ve had them.

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: Was that a lie, or the truth?

Kate: This taste… 

Kate: Even if it’s my second time having this, there’s no doubt these pancakes would impress me just as much as the first. 

Harrison: No one asked for a review, gourmand. 

…

And then, when it was almost sunset, we arrived at—

Harrison: Remember this place? 

Leadenhall Market — an indoors market lined with restaurants, cafés, butchers, and bookstores. 

(But anyone who lives in London would know this place.)

Kate: … Did we come here together before? 

Harrison: Yeah, we went to that bookstore over there for research.

Kate: Research? 

Harrison: I work as a proofreader for a living. 

As I scanned the storefronts, hoping to trigger any of my lost memories, I spotted a book cart with wheels set out near the entrance… 

When I approached and started browsing the books on display, Harrison suddenly widened his eyes in surprise. 

Harrison: This is the one! This is the reference I’ve been looking for. I can’t believe I’d find it now of all times. 

He picked up the book and eagerly started flipping through the pages. 

(I’ve never seen Harrison like this before…)

His mint-coloured eyes were clear and sparkling like the sky after the rain. 

In that moment, I felt like that was the most genuine version of him I’d ever seen, without all the lies and pretense. 

Harrison: What are you staring at?

Kate: Just happy to learn you love books. Ah, and please don’t say that line about whether I think it's a lie or truth. 

Kate: It’s written all over your face. You LOVE books. 

Harrison: … 

Harrison’s expression twisted.

And then his eyes lowered, his bangs casting a shadow over his face. 

Kate: Harrison? 

Harrison: … Sun’s going down, it's about time we head back. 

…

He purchased the reference book from the shop and we retraced our journey back to Crown’s castle. 

(Harrison showed me to all those places, yet I couldn't recall a single thing in the end. And…) 

The image of Harrison’s expression twisting ever so slightly lingered in my mind. 

(He said it was only a possibility when he claimed to be my lover earlier… but was it truly only that?) 

As we walked side by side, Harrison reached into his coat to tuck the book away—

Harrison: … Ah. 

With a light metallic clink, something fell from his chest pocket.

It was a small tin of candy. 

Harrison: Here, catch.

He tossed it through the air, and a mint-coloured candy landed in my outstretched palm. 

Kate: Thank you.

I popped it into my mouth, and a refreshing sensation spread immediately. 

Harrison: … Mint is my favourite flavour out of all the candy in the tin. 

Harrison: Was that a lie, or the truth?

He repeated the phrase he’d used countless times that day.

Harrison: … This is the last time I’m asking. 

Although that last line was said in a murmur, his eyes were gazing directly into mine, with an unwavering look of longing. 

[xoxogeorgiegirl]

conversation with no destination | alex/franky, background rosquez | 2k | pt 2 [pt.1]

Alex stares at Franky's smiling profile picture for as long as it takes Marc to sign two autographs before he decides to pick up, an indefensible choice even to himself. Around him, it’s too loud to listen properly, with the hum of travelers under airport lights, and there are too many cameras, even if they’re all pointed at Marc.

“Not a good time right now,” Alex says carefully, and then regrets admitting it. He pauses, realises that the buzz isn’t just coming from his side of the phone, and asks, somewhat pettily, “Aren’t you at Valentino's thing?”

“It’s fine, this won’t take long,” says Franky dismissively, as though he’s barely heard. “Get home as soon as you can, wherever you’re staying for the night.” Alex doesn’t think he’s imagining the heaviness in his voice when he adds, “I can’t tell you why. Just trust me. I'll call you later, okay?”

There’s a pause, stilted, while Alex waits for him to say something, or for his own mind to catch up and ask a question. The hum of chatter starts again in the background, louder this time, hints of Franky’s voice echoing like he’s moved away from the phone.

“What,” Alex begins finally, confused and off balance, and then a beep signals the end of the call. He’ll rib Franky about it later, fondly annoyed; now, he doesn’t pause before he starts moving, weaving his way to Marc through the small, neon-clad cluster of fans. “Time to go,” he says into Marc’s ear, taking him by the arm.

Marc looks confused, pulled out of his element and back into the oversaturated airport lights, but he follows without asking questions – good, Alex thinks grimly, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to explain.

It’s only once they’re in the taxi that his heartbeat begins to slow down, just in time for Marc to begin to cast a properly worried glance at him.

“Everything alright?” Marc asks, more gently than Alex expects, and he nods, beginning to try and figure out any reason that doesn’t let Franky’s name past his lips. Marc doesn’t seem to care about an answer, exactly, and continues on, glancing at him. “Any news on Vale?”

“I’ll check,” answers Alex, grateful. It gives him a reason to duck his head away, extricating his phone from the pocket of his jeans and making sure that his phone brightness isn’t high enough for Marc to peer over and see notifications over his shoulder. There is nothing from Franky; the red carpet premiere of Valentino’s latest movie will run for an hour yet, all of his proteges pulled in for cameos as Italy’s rising stars or as moral support at the first public screening of the movie that is supposed to win Valentino his first major award in over a decade. Alex opens messages anyway, just to check, and then reluctantly acquiesces to Marc’s impatient gesture. 

He is used to seeing Marc in the headlines. It's Alex's job, now, to scan the news sites or the gossip pages, because Marc likes to know, and Alex would rather that his brother hears it from him, even if Marc has always been good at managing any criticism, any hurt. Now, Alex looks at the blue links, ‘Rossi,’ and ‘Marquez,’ and ‘red carpet breakup,’ all flashing out at him. It is hard, he thinks, to imagine what this will do to Marc.

He is leaning over to look now, tense and nervous with no idea of what he really needs to be worrying about. The premiere going well, Alex thinks, feeling a little like he might laugh, is the least of their worries now. Valentino has made sure of that. This, he realises, his stomach swooping like he's missed a step on the stairs, is what Franky had warned him about. He'll call later, Alex thinks fiercely, and finds with some surprise that tears are threatening to fall. 

“What is it?” Marc asks, reaching over to grab the phone. Alex bats his hand away on instinct alone, and wonders how best to soften this; whether he can, and whether he should just try to find the nicest of these articles and hand it over. In the end, Marc rids him of the choice by snatching the phone away.

His face as he reads is something terrible, confused and betrayed, enough to make Alex briefly ashamed of his own cowardice, and then furious at Valentino for his. He laughs when he’s done, soundless, teeth bared as he hands the phone back over.

“We’re here,” the driver says from the front seat, disastrously unconcerned. It seems to take them an age to grab even the little luggage they brought. The rest of Marc’s clothes are still in Italy, and Alex pictures Valentino having to post them, handwriting loopy and spiteful on the parcel. 

Marc keeps his gaze straight ahead as they head into the hotel lobby, and Alex rests his hand lightly on his arm, ushering him past the sparse press who have already gathered. 

They watch the clip on Alex’s laptop, Marc's shoulder pressing sharply against Alex and his fingers digging into the sticky vinyl of the couch. Valentino smiles out from the screen, a caricature in the nice suit that Alex recognises as the one that Marc had picked out for him. When he raises his hand to take a sip from his glass, there is no engagement ring on his finger to catch the light. 

In the full video, Alex thinks, there will be a build up, small talk and softball questions to Valentino. Here, neatly tied up into the shortest possible time, a reporter holds the microphone out and lightly asks where his fiance is, and they are launched straight into what Alex recognises as a classic Valentino emergency press conference, one of the ones that Marc would make him watch over again. Neat and sharp, vague remarks about a co-star or a rival that made you remember, very suddenly, just how well he can hold an audience. It would be charming, even, if Marc wasn’t white-knuckled and tense beside him. 

“For the answer to that question, we  will have to ask Marquez,” Valentino says with a shrug, casual. “I think it is clear to see that he has picked his sides, and that over the course of my relationship with him, when we were acting together and beyond, he has been playing with me, with my heart.”

The clip ends, screen to black, even though Valentino looks like he is set to keep talking. Alex is grateful for it, for the breath that Marc gives, like it’s been punched out of him. He thinks about saying something, but it seems useless in the face of Marc’s clenched fists, and so instead he stands to go retrieve his silenced phone and begin to answer the calls. There is nothing to be disappointed about, he says to himself, in Franky’s silence.

The studio manager is very politely despondent about Alex telling him that he’s very sorry, but with the change of circumstances, it would be impossible for them to go ahead.

“I’m glad you understand,” he says into the phone, trying not to sound too harried. “It would be too much to do it, now-”

“No,” Marc interrupts, suddenly standing up and turning around to face him. “I will go ahead with filming, as planned.”

“Marc,” Alex begins, and drops the sentence as he glares. Instead he sighs, says, “Just a moment,” and mutes the call. 

“Nothing has changed,” Marc argues. “I have not cancelled before; we will not start now.” 

“I don't think it's a good idea,” says Alex, carefully navigating around the argument that Marc is trying to have with him. 

“He’s the one who changed the date of the premiere, so that I could not be there,” Marc says, and for a moment the anger recedes from his eyes and leaves him looking pale and drawn once more. “Of course, they would not have changed it without his permission.”

Alex glances down at the phone to check that the microphone is still muted, suddenly prickling with betrayal, even if it's nothing to do with him. It feels, he thinks, like anything could happen now. Valentino has declared open season.

“It will be complicated with the media,” he says, instead of that. “The studio may not want a scandal associated with this.”

Marc snorts, derisive. “Of course they do. Are they going to turn me away, now? No.” He waves a hand. “Stop leaving them waiting, and tell them that we’ll see them tomorrow, as scheduled.”

The matter settled and the moment gone, Marc sits back down, hands settling back into his lap. Alex sighs and unmutes the call.

It is a relief, when he can hang up and shove his phone as far down in his bag as he can, burying it under a pair of heavy denim jeans and the hoodie that he hadn’t dared leave in his apartment in Italy, in case Franky saw the opportunity to take it back.

“I’m going to shower,” says Alex abruptly. He stands under the hot water until the glass has fogged up, and fights the urge to go and dig his phone out; while he’s been staunchly ignoring his bag, he’s forgotten to fetch clean clothes, and so he dries himself off and puts the old ones on. Despite it all, he ends up tugging the hoodie on, soft and well worn.

On the couch, Marc looks miserable, hands lying still by his sides. His mouth is twisting, guilty, as Alex mutes the laptop and shuts the lid, pushing it further away on the coffee table. He should put it away, remove the temptation before Marc can memorise the words.

“Sleep, maybe?” Alex suggests, as gently as he can. 

“Anything to stop you fussing,” Marc grumbles, suddenly and thankfully sharp, but allows himself to be shepherded into the bedroom anyway. 

 Alex points out, “I get paid for it.”

“You should be nicer to me. I am the one of us who got broken up with,” Marc says, sending a brief, hard glance over his shoulder. He's joking, Alex thinks too late.

“On international television, maybe,” Alex snaps, and regrets it, because as a rule he and Marc try very hard to be cruel to each other only in the areas that aren’t still tender. He stops, shakes his head, and ruthlessly says, “Get some sleep, Marc.” 

He stops in the doorway with one hand on the lightswitch. Marc is hesitating by the bed, sharply framed in front of the windows.

“You knew, at the airport,” says Marc, and turns back to Alex, eyes sharp and uncertain. There is a long, tense moment before he relaxes again, and Alex doesn't meet his gaze as he says, “Ah. Franco?”

Alex marches over to the bed, turning the covers back and neatly discarding the extraneous pillows that Marc will forget to move before he wakes up in the morning complaining of a sore neck. He keeps his movements stiff, exaggerated, and Marc reluctantly does not press, sighing loudly and slipping under the covers when Alex pointedly steps back.

He curls up, neat, his breathing evening out so immediately and so neatly that Alex winds up lingering by the bed, waiting for him to be ready to speak.

“It is a shame,” Marc says softly, just when Alex is about to accept his feigned sleep and leave. He shifts against the pillows, and Alex automatically pulls the blanket further up around him. “For you,” he says, and trails off for a moment before he adds, “For Franco. He thinks about no-one except himself.”

There is a long, confused moment where Alex thinks he means Franky, and then realises that of course Marc is talking about Valentino. For a second of flushed, prickling confusion, his hand brushes his phone in his pocket, and he thinks about Franky promising that he'd call. 

“It will be hard,” Marc says definitively, concluding a train of thought that Alex isn't following. He smiles, wide and miserably amused, and gently brushes a hand across Alex's shoulder. “We will both get over it, eh?” 

[the-angry-acrobat]

kaz brekker & asexuality

ok so I’m an asexual person who hcs kaz brekker as asexual, and I’ve seen consistent, varyingly different takes on this in the fandom since day one. however a large amount of the reasoning behind kaz either being ace or not being ace is harmful and incorrect, whether or not people are aware of it of course. so some things that are very important for the fandom to take into account are:

the ace spectrum is very wide and very diverse. there is not one way to be aseuxal or to experience asexuality. demisexuality and other terms are encompassed by the term asexuality. 

asexuality because of trauma is completely valid. that being said, viewing kaz as ace because of his haphephobia and ptsd because you see it as protocol is uncool. a lot of ace people are routinely accused of being ace because of trauma they experienced and while yes, that can be the case, the assumption of it is what’s harmful. traumatised people can have fulfilling lives and fulfilling (and sexual) relationships while still having severe ptsd. you can also be traumatised and asexual, completely unrelated to each other. crazy, right? 

there is also reasoning for kaz being ace or inej being ace rooted in ableism. 1, abled people struggle with the concept of disabled people being able to have sexual relationships due to their disabledness *GaSp*, 2, abled people struggle with the fact that disability and disabled bodies can be desirable *gAsP*. 

it’s clear to me that kaz experiences desire and experiences attraction. what is not clear to me is that any of that attraction is ever sexual. i never interpreted it that way. the things he desires are not sexual and while they are commonly viewed in a strictly sexual sense, logically all of them are romantic and yet still don’t have to be sexual. he is 17 and he longs for physical and emotional intimacy which he cannot have, having been isolated in every possible way since he was 9 years old, and being completely unable to be close with people that he loves and cares for due to severe touch aversion. however, being asexual doesn’t mean that you can’t experience sexual attraction. tbh, I don’t think in the books kaz does at all, but that has no bearing on his specific ability to feel other kinds of attraction, he and inej are just teenagers. either way, it’s important not to fall into ace stereotyping ✌️

anyway. just a few reasons I hc kaz as asexual, specifically demisexual: 

the line “he knew what he was expected to say, the things he was supposed to want.” screams asexuality. like,, as a person who’s been affected by assumed and forced allosexuality I can understand that this is what this line completely encompasses. then; “he did want those things, in moments, in flashes.” in moments, in flashes. confliction. desire. this line means a lot of things but in the context of sexuality, this is literally peak demisexual. kaz is always in a battle between desire and disgust but this scene specifically is so so important. “a girl crossing the street in a cobalt dress that slid from her shoulder, a dancer moving like flames in a show on east stave, imogen laughing like he’d told the funniest joke in the world when he hadn’t said much at all.” this is so distinctly asexual attraction, and kaz experiencing attraction despite his outward rejection of it.

anyways there is not One True Interpretation TM. I hc kaz as asexual because of book context and because that’s how he feels to me. his asexuality has nothing to do with his trauma, reputation, personality, or haphephobia, though of course his sexuality/attraction is affected by those things in many ways. whether or not kaz is asexual is not a big deal, but there is so much complexity to his character and brushing important aspects of it aside for surface level allosexual assumptions (especially by allosexual people) is so disappointing. also pls try to steer yourself away from harmful ideology forced on us by our destructive and controlling societal infrastructures. happy pride!

[hikariyaps]

synopsis ☆ satoru gojo, most popular boy on campus, has had loads of flings i mean, it's not his fault girls are all over him right? he has everything he wants, everything he needs. so when he meets you, shoko's best friend plain and unassuming he brushes it off, however one random thursday something happens. something that changes the way he thinks of you entirely. and then he just has to have you, but you won't let up that easily.

☆series masterlist

Chapter Eight

you were acutely aware of every single thing satoru did around you. whether it be rolling his neck or checking his nails. you can't deny the fact that you have feelings for him, even if you're scared to express them. it's very hard to keep yourself from staring and shoko definitely has an inkling about what's going on. but you don't want to tell her. this feels like a shared secret between you and satoru. even though he has no idea about the tidal wave emotions going through you every time he looks into your eyes with his cerulean pair. he has no idea how weak your knees go every time he grins that boyish grin.

ever since you realised that he's so much more than just a prick with good looks you know you’ve had this coming for you. you thought maybe you could just be friends. now you realize there is nothing more in the world that you want than to be more than just friends with him.

he's a very nice person, a gentleman actually. an annoying one but a gentleman indeed. you got to know him and you put in the effort to understand him. he's fiercely protective of the people he cares about. he pays attention to the most minute of details that could be affecting the people he loves. but most of all, you understood that he'd been deprived of love. sure he had loads of girlfriends and flings throughout high school, but they didn't give him love, they were there just out of lust. either lust for him or lust for his money.

you so badly wanted to give him the love that he's been deprived of but at the same time, you’re so damn scared. scared of overstepping your boundaries. scared of losing him as a friend. so for now you've just decided to shut your mouth and just revel in his presence. after all he probably would not like you that way and you do not want to get your heart broken. and when you think that, you shock yourself. your heart would not just break, it would shatter if satoru left.

satoru on the other hand has been desperately trying to make you fall in love with him ever since he realized he was in love with you. it was a shock at first. finally figuring out why the fuck his hearts been going two hundred miles per hour every time he even thought about you. then it sank in that he legit loved you. more than anything or anyone. he was willing to do anything for you.

you know how people usually become shy when they realize they have feelings for each other? you thought you were that kind of person, and you were. satoru was not. he started doing anything and everything. he started sitting next to you everywhere, the train, the café, shoko's couch (you weren't complaining just really flustered), he started holding the door open for you, offered to carry your bag around, did carry your bags around whenever you guys went shopping.

you were shy, but you weren't shying away. you started wearing that perfume you knew he liked. started texting him more, laughed at even the most unfunny of jokes he made, leaned in a bit more whenever he talked to you directly.

shoko and suguru definitely had an inkling about what was going on.

but they weren't going to get you both to confess just yet...

a/n: so sorry that this chapter was short lovelies, this is just the buildup for the next chapter

©hikariyaps2025

[kiyo-cant-write]

Hi! I hope you're all doing well. If it's alright, may I ask if any of you has ever heard of Kpop music, K-dramas, Manhwa and/or webtoons? I'm pretty sure Yuu knew about this, but I just wanted to confirm. Plus, please send my hugs and kisses to my top 3 favorite boys, Silver, Jamil and Epel.

A/N: SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. FINALS ARE VERY AAA.

Yuu pulled out the next slip of paper and proceeded to read the question once, twice, three times until they were sure they understood its meaning. They then read it aloud.

"This person wants to know if any of you are aware of what Kpop, K-dramas, manhwa, or webtoons are? I'm fairly sure comics and dramas exist here, right?"

They looked at Vil for guidance, and the housewarden nodded.

"If they want a more practical answer, all of those things exist here in some form," Vil confirmed, "Yuu asked me many, many questions about media when they first came to Twisted Wonderland, and I can confirm there is some equivalent media for each of those, some of which I have been a part of."

Yuu smiled, glad to have help with the answers from their esteemed senpai and technical co-host of this... computer show?

Vil continued.

"As for whether any of us enjoy them, I make a point to engage with anything that could come up in my career; that said, I've read a few. Though it's likely Shroud that scoured through the ones from Yuu's world when Yuu told him there were millions of them and provided an example of sorts."

The tablet unmuted for a moment before muting itself again as if Idia had nothing to say that would refute Vil's (true) statement.

"And I like Kpop! Yuu showed me some dances that I was able to pos ton Magicam!" Cater added from his place on the floor, "Though I don't know how happy my freshies were to do them with me."

Ace and Deuce cringed in unison, and Cater just laughed.

"Oh! I saw that video!" Yuu told them, causing both their classmates to turn even redder, "Trey-senpai filmed it for you, right?"

Trey nodded with a sigh.

"It almost caused me to overcook something..."

"Always thinking of the food, huh?" Cater teased him.

"Considering it was our dorm's meal? Yep."

That was a fair point, Yuu noted, almost feeling bad for him.

They gasped a moment later, realizing they had forgotten part of the question. They coughed to get the attention of their classmates before they spoke again.

"And this person says a special hello to their 'top 3 favorites', which would be Jamil-senpai, Silver-senpai, and Epel!"

All three looked at Yuu when their name was mentioned (including Silver, who was awake at this specific moment). Jamil seemed startled at being perceived, Silver looked confused but accepting, and Epel seemed to be looking at Vil now for some sign of what to say. Yuu almost felt bad for them, but it was... kind of funny.

Vil simply gestured for them to speak, hoping they didn't do something... unbecoming.

"I'm a favorite???"

Each boy said something akin to this.

The supermodel sighed. These boys had a long way to go if they were going to properly be someone's favorite or bias.

"You're popular, take that in stride, good posture," he told them.

"Oh..." Silver managed to say, "Thank you, I will accept this honor."

"That works," Vil said, nodding to Silver and looking to the other two.

"Thank you?!??" Epel managed.

"Too loud, Epel," Vil scolded lightly, "Now, Jamil?"

"Much appreciated, thank you very much," Jamil said as if the formal thanks were something he had practiced.

Vil smiled slightly, something that was a mixture of reassuring and terrifying depending on the person (Yuu seemed relieved, whereas Epel looked as though he was filled with anxiety by the sight of Vil).

"Very good. Yuu, next question," Vil instructed.

"Oh... Okay!"

They reached into the box again...

[myraniellejkelly]

​🇳​​🇸​​🇫​​🇼​​ 🇦​​🇱​​🇵​​🇭​​🇦​​🇧​​🇪​​🇹​

𝐆𝐄𝐔𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆-𝐉𝐄

(Minors DNI) content includes: everything is vulgar and suggestive related based smuts and headcanon.

───────────────────────

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Having the amount of time with you in bed as he caressed your hair.

Or cuddle you up and snuggle with a peck towards your forehead.

Always smiles at you.

Murmuring you softly in complementing you.

Would be imagine if he were humming as you go.

Taking care of you honestly before he’ll head out afterwards.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

It would’ve been too obvious that this man always fights and intimidate everyone, from you in wanting to choke you with his hand.

His favorite way in cupping around your jaw and neck just to see you vulnerable while he grins.

Or when he uses his hand in able to play around your sensitive areas, while he laughs at you just as he take the pressure inside of you.

To you, was your face—somehow your eyes—is what drive him nuts in keeping it going on and on, just wanting to watch your reaction lives in pure lust and intensive pleasures.

F!reader: also your boobs is what sent him seem off to enjoy how it bounces and even for him to place his dick, or wanting to lay towards his head.

M!reader: also your dick, leading him jerking faster just to hardened out, in enjoying torture it with lust as well as seeing it bursting out from you.

Same applies on your ass in wanting them hanging out or held it tight.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically I'm a disgusting person)

This man is a mess at sex whenever he cums right at your chest, your mouth, or your inside area. In most cases, he is just marking his territory over your body like a sicko.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There’s no need to be secretive that he is a masochist or sadomasochist, like this asshole would like you to be controlling and even hurt him in any shape or form. Usually though, he is a switch but preferably a dom, so he would likely asks you to dominate him in a way he might enjoy.

He deffo needs some praise, whether you like or not that he maybe dominating the shit out of you.

Has a stash of sex photos and sex videos of you two in his phone gallery. Some of the photos were at his Home Screen, what a risk.

Sexting typical shit.

Watches you masturbate at your window without you even noticing a thing that you were clearly watched.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

Bruh, never been with anyone on that experience at all, shown from his tease, flirtatious, and deeds. But instantly knows where to even begin with.

You were the first person coming up to him on that case in essentially made a look out of curiosity, just touching everything he does on you until his smirk went running and laughed.

To a certain part he knows whether to press his own shit onto you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

I highly doubt it that this tyrant, would go on stand and deliver position whereas you were laying on the bed or missionary position, while he goes on thrusting his dick inside of you. Just watching your face leaving to shreds of pleasure.

Or doggy style likely wanting to spank that ass and gripping through it.

Even mountain climber, it’s likely he would put much pressure towards your inside of your body, on what’s focusing in making you moan several times, just to get a better hit towards your almost sensitive area.

Others like when you wrap your legs around him in a way, that he wanna cum right at you and that you were in your climax. Even legs on shoulders that most of the time just feeling that soft skin of yours, the pretzel position is making Seongje want to push furthermore to your inside, or cowboy or cowgirl position.

Clearly, he wants to get load of his cum and even wanting to hear your scream for his name.

6 = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Well if he was in such a good mood, that’s definitely him going crazy and laughed in just easing up the mood of your guys’ sex. Just him talking dirty and freak-ish moments.

Well if he was in such a bad mood, he would completely retaliate you further and out, in pulling out your hair and spank your ass.

Fucking calling you with insults that are harsh than ever that even leads you to choking in fighting your insides. Until he’ll grin and laughs at you from time to time as he was easing his stress onto you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I mean he ain’t gonna let it pass, so he would be well groomed and trimmed all the way in cleanliness.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect.)

He doesn’t mind rather than doing sex, he was just so glad that you could stick around sometimes.

You sitting down on his lap while you lay towards his shoulder as he talks and you listen.

This man needs a break at some point whereas you two start talking, mostly communication is the only thing that led him to acknowledge you, especially when he always got his own eyes on you. Occasionally, if he were to smoke a couple of cigarettes.

Eventually he doesn’t think about fucking you, he wanna feel what’s like having a genuine connection and love from you, which he yearns the affection since you two had a long way relationship.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Strict rules in business: he cannot.

He was in a serious business plus his loyalty towards Baekjin. He does not jerk off in taking risk just because he was in a private relationship with you. Seongje doesn’t have much time doing shit at everything, he is clearly resisting his urge and that his mind ticks and could hear him muttering, Shibal.

At home when you were going somewhere, while Seongje was alone and well he is sitting there in silence for five minutes and thought about it eventually, which he in fact did. He does not often jerk off most of the time, he did it rarely just because he wants to commit into fucking you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

It’s obvious, he’s a masochist that’s only canon thing about him.

He laughs and smiles at feeling pain in his psychotic way, clearly he could be a sadomasochist just bringing pain or feel pain.

He doms because he prefer in giving a piece of his all the time; he subs because you fought back at him in a way he lets you fuck him. Damn switch he is.

Asphyxiation kink: what else would it be went him choking you or would be him getting chocked by you which correlates to his masochism.

Gagging: he clearly wants to watch you getting gagged from his dick and just to see your eyes red and teary.

Size Play: From his perspective he always wanna test out on you who’s twice the size from you.

Humiliation: pretty self-explanatory that he insulted you.

Dumbification: is manipulating or gaslighting you as well as he watches you acting all naive and dumb, to the point he now takes advantage out of you through fucking you.

Praise Kink: I highly doubt that he wants to hear you praising his name or what he does that made you overly stimulated.

Marking Kink: wants to show that you were his territory more than anything.

Role play: imagine you were his victim and he comes right at you from the behind, eventually fastening his thrust inside of you.

Pet Play: that’s something when he is treating like a damn dog while he laughs at your most embarrassing moments in sex.

Somnophilia: look, I just think he is a freak-ish fuck who does something to you at bed, while you sleep in slumber.

Dacryphilia: not gonna lie, this only happens during sex when you’re at your most vulnerability.

Public Sex: it something he does occasionally and not all the time, without anyone suspecting on what he does to you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Rarely doing sex in the union: supposedly hiding somewhere where among others couldn’t see you and him in your guys’ make out sash or quickie.

Bowling alley: while everyone was having fun playing bowling, it was the right moment for him to grab you and start putting you down somewhere.

Gaming centre: if it’s only just the two of you playing games until you jerk off a joystick and eventually he fucks you.

At home: well it’s basic but that’s the moment he only prefers fucking you more left and right.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You arguing, shouting, yelling, insulting towards him if he was in a good mood. Makes him turn on by your feistiness.

Your eyes is you giving that damn dolled up and naiveness to your innocence, which he can’t resist in wanting to see your expression flushed.

You being naive, clueless, oblivious, and innocent is something to do with him teasing you because you were unaware on what he does, in just tricking you into doing his bidding.

You receiving plenty of pleasure on him as you exhaust him to bits while he groans.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

I think there were a few that turns him off.

When he was getting into the mood with you, in wanting to kiss you but you told him to stop is what makes him annoyed, but he understood that from each other’s boundaries.

You not getting affectionate in return for him.

You acting more so serious to the point it wasn’t one of your arguments that turn him on, it was you acting awfully a lot like you’re giving him bullshit and that’s what drains him out.

You avoid, ignore, distancing away from him is what it end up with him being irritated.

You not talking back to him or even say something.

You calling him by his full name all day (it only happens when you two were having a full commitment and a lovely relationship with each other).

0 = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He ain’t got no preference whether giving or receiving (f!reader or m!reader)

Seongje is getting into the point in eating you out to your pussy or suck your dick. His horny and sick.

F!reader: has a teasing smirk in playing his tongue around your inside, circling all over it or even kissing it in feeling it tingle. He has his own time and all night.

M!reader: likes licking the tip then down to the shaft and even jerking your dick off and laugh about it, just to suck it and even that cum squirting into his face while he grin.

He has a secret skills with his hands and that killer smile which leads you into a massive arousal.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

At first, it was a slow pleasurable sex when he pushes his dick that hard and rough into your insides fully, leaving you gasping for air and whimpering.

Then he goes feral in fast of speed while you tried to handle that sensational fucks he’s leaving you.

His goal was making you squirt by trying to get it rough and fast, so he goes nonstop in releasing his cum and yet he kept going and going.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not much of a fan because he wants to spend his time wrecking you bit by bit, but he does it rarely in public, knowing that he’ll finish it when you guys came home.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is the risk, he does shit out of his satisfaction and makes a total mess in anything.

He doesn’t take you in an easy way, or else you might lose it, just destroying fully that the bed might break.

He’s up for something worse and get so interested through his curiosity in how to fuck you this good.

He might be up for bruising, give hickeys, spanking, or possibly letting you cry out for more in losing amount of breaths.

He doesn’t wanna end up impregnating you but often cream pies your insides.

Watching you from you fifth orgasm is something bizarre that you hadn’t passed out so sudden.

Slapping your face or even so ravishing with kisses as his tongue enters into you.

Intensive screaming from you that he cannot take it anymore as he laughed and groan.

He bites you.

Watching your tiring and pleasurable face as he told you to stay up and look at him.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Bruh, just got a pack of energy loaded, no matter how long he lasted. The only way he stops was when you said a safe word in any case.

He can go once, twice, or thrice.

Clearly, he had a high on sex drive.

Seongje can be a little tired out but he isn’t.

He is growling just to get his cum released into the maximum.

You after a couple of moments just to relax, then he asks you if you were in it for another round.

Seongje doesn’t force you to get in with another round but he slightly begs you for another.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

The only toy he could use was you.

Isn’t fond with sex toys but does know how it’s been used.

Literally you who got a stash of it and probably would watch you use it.

That was kind of his first thing he learned and so he is fucking it up with you and your clit in any way.

Would he try the urethra sounding on himself? wink, wink.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It’s pretty self-explanatory, he is arrogant and likes pissing you off in a playful way.

He is a massive dirty teaser.

You tried to hold yourself back but he caught you, in whispering to your ear while he laughs.

Likes seeing you embarrassed and even just a teensy bit, that he is just so obsessed and kept using it to your advantage.

He wants you to seem so love and seem so obedient in bed.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

At first he was not that loud.

Amount of medium groans.

Multiple hisses.

Until the amount of orgasm, then he would start moaning along with you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He is the type to get tied up while you were lap dancing or even so sucking off his cock.

Wants to hear you calling him, sir or daddy.

Hmm… bathroom sex, you holding towards a transparent door while he fucks you from the behind.

Loves watching you wearing a damn nightgown with pantie lingerie underneath at night — f!reader.

Loves you in showing of that explosive shoulders from a loose shirt and boxers in seeing that bulge — m!reader

A love game of cat and dog chase (as to him chasing you down and ended up fucking you in the end).

You sitting down on his lap while you were cockholding onto him, that he hugs for a moment while he could sense your body shake, makes him chuckle.

If you were wearing a lip stick then that’s something what happened after sex, that his face is filled with the amount of lip stick mark on his lips and face, even down there towards his dick.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Well, it’s clean smooth, thick, and straight about 7.3 inches per se with veiny texture. Usually a good way for your mouth to filled it up, and even trying to fit your insides with all of that size.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Is overly distracted over his job that Baekjin would snapped his fingers towards him.

When he was on business, he madly, awfully misses you that he can’t take the urge.

Horny af and just want to pin you down with his hands.

He’s obsessed and worship you like no one else is, he wants to come home and hugged you for dear god in knowing he kiss you so bad, as he murmur that you were the only who feels comfort and seeing him in a way like no one did.

Extremely high like a feral dog who’s in heat.

Z = ZZZ (- how quickly they fall asleep after sex)

Clearly, he wants a time off from his important business, sometimes he smokes because he is still up while you were sleeping.

But Seongje is genuinely tired that he just came snuggling you as he fall asleep.

Just wanting to rest up onto your chest.

He didn’t really often sleep at some point but when it comes to you, he indeed slowly fall asleep within the next few hours. Just then he felt happy even more to be with you.

[sunshades]

Kind of a dumb thought but something just hit me: What if Heathcliff got a bit of Book!Cathy's personality? Book!Heathcliff wasn't really very violent or temperamental but *Catherine* in the books was. Do you think that's true?

I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS BEFORE TOO!

i remember laughing my ass off back in part 1 when hindley talks about losing the manor to her because that was like. wait. she wasn't lying she really is heathcliff 😭... then we find out it was Literally Heathcliff who physically ran that con, but it felt purposeful to have catherine be the one behind it, even if it was with nelly and n corp.'s help. book!cathy is impulsive, gets carried off by her feelings, while game!cathy has a much cooler and more calculating demeanor, even when literally getting overwhelmed by the despair of countless lifetimes (very heathcliff!). the way she explicitly sees the marriage as a means to an end in particular to me reads as closer to book!heathcliff's own view than to her book counterpart, who is instead the coping and suppressing queen 🔥

ON the other hand those traits fit heathcliff much more, i think particularly the way the reasoning behind it- cathy's is a reflection of how hindley has raised her, used to seeing that violence, always on edge and ready to snap at the slightest provocation. that's incredibly close to game!heathcliff, where a lot of the violence seems to come specifically from being insulted or looked down upon (hi S.E.A). it's a very different brand from book!heathcliff who, while also violent, is much more calculating about when and how to use it, working in tandem with his status to force others to respect his superior role as the patriarch. we see this trait in the erlking instead, the whole system of "whoever i kill belongs to me" which is cool as fuck btw.

also (<- guy who always has to make it about how theyre gen2) it's fun because some of these traits are then shared by the gen2 characters theyre based on too- catherine's more gloomy personality, the kind of fatalistic way of talking is in line with book!heathcliff but with catherine linton as well, with both of them getting described in mythical terms as a way to insult them (heathcliff is called a vampire at various points, cathy l. is called a witch) which checks out with game!cathy being described as frightening.

on the other side heathcliff's short fuse is close to book!cathy, but also to hareton, and both of them are also very empathetic (yeah even cathy. the if she made you cry she'd keep you company (and cry as well) from the early chapters as well as the whole each of his miseries speech) in a way that heathcliff shares, but not his book self. which is also a fun thought because book-wise heathcliff seeing catherine in her daughter is very obvious, but he also absolutely sees her in hareton which is so interesting.

there's also the factor of the post canto vi identities which is really huge. the narrative focusing on that theme of an empty life really connects heathcliff back to the catherine from the book- the repression of her feelings for heathcliff, the attempt to fit into a life she admits is not right for her, the idea that just forgetting about him would allow her to be happy. all ideas that both game and book nelly strongly believes in! and the outcome is SO similar to what happens to the heathcliffs of those worlds where she doesn't exist anymore. denying those feelings never truly allows either of them to actually suppress them. he ends up much like cathy falling into her delirium- asking whether he's going to come back for her, seeing him in the shadows, knowing something is wrong and something is missing even if you can't put a name to it.

ofc then their feelings corresponding and overlapping is part of the plot and the big reveals of the canto, but when comparing them to the book selves it definitely feels like the switching around of many elements of their characters was purposeful. as the spread of the traits they share and the points where they differ was really well balanced, the outcome is a dynamic that's fresh while still being recognizable! very tasty!

[aliceforhumansacrifice]

BSD characters as siblings

Had this one in drafts so here we go

Dazai Osamu

He knew. Or at least, he suspected.

Dazai never trusts coincidences, and the first time your name appeared on a case file, he suspected. Ran quiet checks behind the scenes. Kunikida didn’t even know.

The moment it clicks with absolute certainty that you’re really his sibling, he doesn’t bring it up right away. That would give you too much control.

He laughs it off when you first bring it up. “Is this some ploy to gain my inheritance? Jokes on you, I’m broke.”

He will get used to you though.

Starts leaving really specific jokes in front of you just to see if you’d flinch.

Taught you to pick locks in case you get kidnapped or need to steal snacks.

A notebook titled: “101 Ways to Fake Your Death (Sibling Edition).”

He never calls you “sibling” though. Not once. Not directly. That word means acknowledgment, and Dazai doesn’t do well with emotional anchors.

On the surface, he will act like it’s no big deal.

But quietly covering for you when Kunikida gets too strict, sending you those ridiculous notes with weird advice.

Not because he thinks you can’t manage on your own, but because he cares enough to bother.

Surprisingly gives good advice when you ask for it.

Buys matching sunglasses and says, “We’re undercover now.” You’re just at the grocery store.

In every minor inconvenience he calls you ”biological betrayal”

Kunikida tries to be supportive but he’s absolutely watching you like you might also jump into a canal at any moment.

Atsushi is too stunned like actually. ”You’re… Dazai-san’s sibling? Like… related?”

Yosano just laughs

Ranpo obviously knew but it was fun to watch it reveal the emotional damage naturally.

Fukuzawa just goes ”If you ever need support separate from your brother’s… unique influence, my door is open.”

Kenji is innocently excited

Doesn't he just radiate older brother energy?

Chuuya Nakahara

At first? Denial. Hard denial.

“There’s no way. Nope. I would’ve known. That can’t be true.”

Mori gives him the files. The couple had another child after Chuuya.

He's mad. Not because he hates the idea, but because it seems impossible.

He doesn’t say anything at first because what can you say when your sibling suddenly appears in your dangerous, chaotic life?

He’s always been told he was alone. Manufactured. Cloned. The mafia was his only family.

He tears through records. Old Mafia logs. Government documents. Orphanage rosters. Blood types. Medical files. Everything.

You go from “colleague” or “stranger” to “under mafia-grade protection.”

Suddenly he’s showing up at your place like, “What kind of lock is this? You call this secure?”

He expects you to be tough because family is family. No weaklings allowed.

You’re his equal in battle and spirit. If not, he’ll make you so, whether you like it or not.

He’s fiercely competitive and loves challenging you to things whether it’s a fight, a race, or who can drink more sake. But he never cheats.

He’ll text you out of the blue just to say, “Don’t get into trouble. And don’t eat crap food.”

If you want advice, he’s blunt but honest. No sugarcoating.

You catch him checking in on you during missions more than he lets on, especially when things get dangerous.

He’s softer with you than with anyone else but acts twice as tough to cover it.

Dazai just laughs out loud. He starts asking casual, seemingly meaningless questions that feel too pointed to be innocent. He wants to know if you’re a weak spot. Not for the Mafia but for Chuuya.

Akutagawa acts like he doesn’t give a damn, but he notices everything. Keeps tabs on you not out of kindness but out of respect for Chuuya.

Kouyou isn't surprised. She gives you small guidance, traditional advice, and “He doesn’t say it. But he’s relieved to have you.”

Mori doesn’t speak to you directly at first. Just watches. Smiles. You become part of some silent calculation. A piece on a board. Be careful though because if you ever betray the Mafia he’ll make Chuuya choose.

And that’s a knife you don’t want to put in your brother’s hands.

Kunikida Doppo

It starts with a file. One of those background checks that come with new recruits. Kunikida didn’t think twice about it at first. Just procedure.

But your birthday, your birthplace, the timeline, it didn’t add up. Or rather, it added up too well.

He thinks it’s a coincidence too. But Kunikida doesn’t like coincidences. They offend his order-driven worldview.

•Adoption records. Hospital notes. The kind of paper trail only someone with an obsessive notebook and high moral standards could actually follow.

He pieces it together like a mystery one he desperately hopes he’s wrong about. Because what would it mean, if it were true? What does he do with something like that?

He doesn't tell you right away.

Were you hiding something? Did you know? Would telling you disrupt the team’s balance? Would it disrupt him?

He pulls you aside one day after a mission. He doesn't sugarcoat it. Just showing you the files.

Then he waits. Like your reaction will either validate or completely ruin his life plan.

On the surface? He’s composed. Focused. Back to work like nothing’s changed.

Internally he's panicking, screaming in italics.

"This was not in the notebook. There are no pages labeled: ‘How to Be a Good Brother While Also Maintaining Professional Standards in a Government-Affiliated Agency.’ I am underprepared."

He starts writing new sections in his notebook.

SIBLING DUTIES:

-Always ensure their safety in the field

-Offer moral guidance and discipline

-Do not play favorites (difficult but necessary)

-Pack emergency snacks in case.

He tries not to be overbearing. He really does. But you’ll catch him glancing over at you during missions, checking for injuries before anyone else’s.

He starts calling you out more in meetings to include you.

He cares in a responsibility kind of way. At first.

But he softens over time

You matter to him because you are proof that the world can still surprise him and that maybe, not all surprises are bad.

Also Dazai starts calling you “Notebook Jr.”

Tries to provoke fights between you two on purpose just to watch who will win.

“How to Corrupt Two Kunikidas at Once.”

Atsushi tries not to call him your brother out loud because it feels like a title he hasn’t earned the right to say.

Yosano offers you sibling bonding “advice” that’s basically just, “Annoy him until he snaps and throws a pen at the wall. That’s how you know he cares.”

When it comes out, Ranpo just goes, “Took you long enough”. He also tells you both weird things about each other he somehow knows

Fukuzawa might subtly assign missions that build your sibling teamwork, but he'll never admit it.

Kenji asks adorable questions like, “Do you have matching notebooks?”

Stress level: notebook-shredding.

Atsushi Nakajima

He doesn’t believe it at first. Not out of denial, but out of pure disbelief like it’s too good to be true.

The moment he sees the files your name next to his, your birthday just months apart, the orphanage his breath catches in his throat.

You try to say it gently, like it won’t shatter him but his eyes go wide and he steps back like the air was knocked out of his lungs.

His first reaction is to apologize. For not knowing. For not being there. For being him.

You have to stop him or he’ll spiral right there in the middle of the Agency.

After that? He’s so soft with you it’s almost awkward.

He keeps trying to do things for you. Fetching tea. Holding doors. Doing your paperwork for you.

Constantly checking in like “Are you okay? Did you eat? Are you warm enough? Should I get you something else?”

You’re his only family. The only person tied to his past that didn’t hurt him.

Buys you things he thinks you’ll like, even if it’s just a pen with your favorite color.

Tries to cook for you. Fails. Tries again.

Offers to patch up your wounds even if you’re not bleeding. Just in case.

He doesn't need you to fix him. He doesn't even think he's worth fixing. But you remind him that he isn’t alone anymore.

Dazai starts referring to you as “Little Tiger No. 2”

Kunikida cross-checks every legal record to verify it. He's ’very Kunikida’ about it. Immediately updates your personal files.

Ranpo doesn’t say much more, but sits next to Atsushi for a long time after he finds out. Just keeps him company.

Kenji asks you both if you want to visit his village one day.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

He knew you. He just didn't feel the need to reach out and make it public.

He acts like he’s above you but he’s the first to pull you out of danger like it's his full time job.

He’s not good at hugs. You try once. He pats your back like you’re a centuries old artifact.

if you fall asleep in the same room as him while he’s working, he will adjust the lighting and lower the music volume like you’re a literal houseplant. (You grow best in low light and mild humidity.)

You ask if he wants to hang out and he says of course and pulls out a 500-piece chess set.

Makes you practice chess with him. he destroys you every time, but then pretends to be shocked when you finally beat him once. “What’s this? The peasant has risen? How thrilling.”

Game night is banned after he wins Monopoly by psychologically destroying the banker (you).

He says stuff like “I left you something on the table” and it’s either a slice of bread or a coded message for his wicked plans.

He plays cello late at night sometimes. You wake up to it. It’s haunting.

When you argue, it’s philosophical warfare. He doesn’t yell. He debates.

“Your logic is flawed,” he says, sipping tea like he didn’t just dismantle your worldview in three sentences.

Looks like he’s plotting your downfall, but is actually just trying to remember if you like strawberry or raspberry jam.

100% the type to insult you affectionately:

“Out of all the fools in this world, you shine the brightest.”

“You’re not unbearable. That’s a compliment.”

Dazai treats you the same as how he treats Fyodor. He doesn’t trust you. But he doesn’t hate you either. ”I wonder why he leaves you out. Not very nice of him.”

Chuuya just goes ”No way that trash rat bastard has a sibling” You’re still a problem, sure. But you’re not the enemy.

The moment this reaches to Ango, he opens a new file. You’re either leverage or a threat.

Chief Taneda is calm. He’s seen worse. He’s been worse. “Even monsters are born from somewhere.”

If you’re captured by the government, he tries to learn how much you know about Fyodor.

Chief Taneda does keep you in high security cells. Not because he doesn’t trust his agents but because he knows Fyodor will get you out.

Nikolai is absolutely delighted. “Dos-kun has a baby sibling! That’s hilarious!"

“Do you think he would cry if you died?” “Did he ever smile at you when you were kids? Oh wait you had a childhood?” weird questions like this.

You’re either his new favorite toy or his least favorite disappointment. The line shifts daily.

He calls you “little devil” and “Fedya Jr.”

Sigma is scared of you by association.

Jouno immediately sniffs you. Literally. “You smell like coffins and existential dread. Like him. But softer.”

Doesn’t trust you. At all. For a long time. But over time, he realizes you don’t lie. You barely know how to.

Eventually says something off handedly kind “You’re too pathetic to be him. That’s a good thing.” (Coming from Jouno? That’s affection)

Tecchou stares at you like you’re an endangered animal. Keeps trying to bond with you in awkward ways. “Do you… like horses?”