Any Love and Deepspace players on this blog watching this whole mess unfold? 😭
I just want my wolf man back, ramblings below
Okay, so I know this isn't really the blog for it, and I'll probably delete this later, but the game I've been playing, Love and Deepspace, has gone through some of the wildest drama I've ever seen a gaming company face.
Here's the thing: I genuinely don't think the company would have canceled Valko if toxic antis hadn't gotten the Chinese government involved. it's a handful of incredibly reckless fans or even a rival company stirring things up, I don't think anyone with common sense would intentionally escalate things to the point where the entire game could be at risk.
And then there are the threats. Employees have been sent cow dung and death threats at the office, and now there are reports that police were called because there may have been someone with a knife near the building. That's way beyond normal fandom drama.
I can absolutely believe there are people who want this game to fail, and I think the company's silence is probably damage control more than anything else. At this point, there may not be much they *can* say while they're trying to navigate everything that's happening.
It really sucks because a lot of international fans are only seeing the lack of communication and assuming it's just bad PR. But from everything that's been happening, this feels like a much bigger crisis behind the scenes than people realize.
Additionally, they've also removed the number tattoos from the boys, which *to me* feels like another damage-control measure. Whether that's due to censorship or an attempt to avoid giving critics more ammunition, it definitely seems like they're being extra cautious.
They also pulled one of the lore stories with the intention of rewriting and updating it later. Between that and the other changes, it's pretty clear the game is already being heavily affected by outside pressure.
The hardest part is that there's such a massive language barrier. Chinese social media that i dont use, so I am often relying on translated screenshots, secondhand information, and fragmented reports. That makes it incredibly difficult to know exactly what's happening.
On top of that, the company can't really speak freely right now. Whether that's because of legal concerns, public pressure, or other restrictions, they're in a position where anything they say could be scrutinized. As frustrating as the silence is, I don't think this is as simple as "the company doesn't care." It seems like there's a lot more happening behind the scenes than international players are able to see.
Another thing that's really stood out to me is the cancellation of events in China. They made it through Anime Expo in the U.S., but canceling events closer to home makes me think the situation there is a lot more serious than many of us realize. If those events were canceled to protect cosplayers, staff, and other workers, then I think that was the right call.
The cancellation of the fan-funded NYC billboard is also encouraging in one way...it shows the company is aware of how much support they're receiving from the fandom,but you can't do that if you arent the company, its encouraging but I saw that getting stopped a mile away. Between that and all the wolf-themed donations and messages of support, I have a hard time believing they don't see how many players are standing behind them. I just imagine they're in a position where they can't publicly say much right now.
More than anything, I think it's important to remember that the safety of the company's employees comes first. Whatever decisions are being made behind the scenes, the developers and staff shouldn't be the targets of harassment or blame.
If anyone deserves criticism, it's the people who escalated a disagreement over a story released back in April into something so much bigger. No game developer or employee deserves threats or to fear for their safety over a work of fiction.
Also, I’m not going to sit here and pretend Infold hasn’t fallen into some of the same problems that many gacha otome games struggle with.
The back-to-back banners, the lack of consistent story updates, the lighting issues affecting darker-skinned MCs, and the main story feeling stagnant while characters like Sylus and Caleb still need more content to catch up with the others, those are all real concerns that players have brought up and they still need to be addressed.
Supporting the game and the developers doesn’t mean ignoring valid criticism. Both things can exist at the same time. Fans can care about the game, the characters, and the employees while also wanting the company to improve.
Right now, though, all we can really do is wait and see what happens next.
Would this ancient Derek also go on some sorta old timey equivalent of his yearly Desert Trip? And if so, what do you think it would've looked like? :0
Yes, Derek could still do desert trips! Honestly, it would be easier to do so, as long as he's not killing some Roman citizen (though he could still do so if he really wanted to, maybe pay someone to bring their political opponents to the outskirts).
The easiest option is for him to hunt some foreigner or some Roman slave for sport.
Komodo and Dragon would be criminal Roman citizens, Jack would be a corrupt Roman officer, and I could see Machete as a man who seeks revenge for his sister who was killed from pillaging, funded by the Goffards ofc (wanna change their name since it's too "barbaric" lol). Roman elites are so cruel, they'd torture their own citizens for fun...
As for the location! If they want to go to a desert, they'd have to travel a while, like maybe a few weeks, so lucky Derek, more vacation for him. But more walking lol
BROOO OMG I LOVE THIS AU LMAOOO U GOTTA DRAW MORE OF THEM 🥹🥹
Yay thank you! As a reward, here's my poorly drawn sketch of Ren in Sasanian attire (he's Japanese but like, I kinda have no idea how he'd even have contact with the western world so I'll just make Strade Persian and somehow Ren make his way onto the continent of Euroasia as some cool exotic beast thing?? Idk working on the logistics...)
Romans are very very annoying to sell to, especially the men, they nag too much...
Gang I promise I'll do further research of the Sasanian empire WAHHH 😭🙏
You had been on your best behavior, so it only felt right to let you out of your restraints to wash up. But only if you let him help.
(A continuation of what occurs when Calvin showers you.)
Character from the Visual Novel Just Be Patient!
Tags: Doctor/Patient Relationship, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Thigh Fucking, Sexual Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, is it really Stockholm Syndrome when you also have a crush on him
Word Count: 4,082
Find Me On Ao3!
"I know how to wash myself. I don't think you need to watch me."
You uttered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. A low hum rumbled behind you as you felt Calvin's chest press against your back. The scent of his cologne seems to surround you, leaving your already hazy mind to sway even further.
"Nonsense, it is important that I keep an eye on you. You could risk slipping and falling in the shower, and if that were to happen, then I'd have to do a more thorough examination on you." His words seemed as if they made sense, as if what he was saying was a no-brainer, yet you couldn't wrap your head around this situation.
Calvin reached over you, turning the handle of the shower. Water spewed out like bullets before flooding out the spout as pressure began to build.
"C-Can I at least undress myself? Please, Calvin?" You pleaded, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. He stared at you with an unreadable expression, his brows furrowing slightly before giving a slow nod.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you found the hem of your shirt and began to pull the fabric over your head. Upon lifting your arm, pain shot through your muscles, earning a wince.
"Fuck." You hissed, instantly dropping your arms to the side. Your left arm throbbed in pain as you craddled it to your chest.
"Ah, is it still bothering you?" Calvin asked, earning a jump from you. Before you could pull away, his hands were already on you, fingers probing your left shoulder with ease. A hiss escaped your lips as you fought back the urge to yank your arm back. He squeezed the muscle, blanching the skin with steady eyes.
"Must still be inflamed from our earlier encounter. But not to worry, the heat from the shower will help increase the blood flow and loosen your muscles." He lowers your arm slowly, with enough grip not to hurt you more.
"Although this further proves my point that I must accompany you as you shower. I do not want you to strain yourself even further." Calvin spoke, as if reassuring himself. In an instant, his hands were back on your body as he began undressing you.
Heat pooled in your face as you attempted to back away.
"W-Wait-! I can at least-!"
Your words die in your throat as he lifts his head, shooting you a glance that silences you. You blush as he pulls your shirt over your head, giving extra care to your sleeves. His fingers ghosted over your exposed stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Dipping lower, he began to undo the tie holding up your pants. With a tug, they came undone as he began to pull them down your ass, past your thighs, before letting them pool on the floor.
You now stood bare before him, naked as the chill air bit at your skin. His gaze didn't waver from yours before he placed a hand on your shoulder, firmly guiding you into the shower.
A low whine left your lips as you reached out, feeling the temperature of the rushing water. It did little to calm the ache in your chest at the whole situation. As well as a little to calm the ache between your legs.
You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man. The way you felt every time you went to visit his office. He was everything you were looking for in terms of a partner: calm, charming, undeniably handsome. But damn it. He just had to be your doctor. And of course, damn it, that he kidnapped you. Why couldn't he have just invited you for coffee? Well, you drink too much of it anyway, that's probably why.
You let the water envelop your skin, neck craning as a soft groan escaped your lips. God, it felt so good to finally shower and get this musk off of you. Your shoulders drooped, finally relaxing as the hot water poured over you. You nearly forgot that you weren’t alone, if it wasn’t for the rustle of a belt buckle behind you. The sound made your heart sink into your ass as you spun around.
You watched with wide eyes as Calvin began undressing himself, pulling his belt free from its clasp. Your jaw dropped open as his hands began to pull off his shirt, revealing his fitted chest.
You tore your head away from the sight, shuffling closer to the shower wall.
Was he about to get in and shower with you?
"Why are you getting naked?" You asked stupidly, already knowing the answer to that question.
He didn't answer, instead pulling the shower curtain further aside as he stepped in behind you. You huddled closer together, trying your hardest to appear smaller. Your breath hitched as his hands found your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest.
"Relax." He breathed into your ear, earning a shiver down your back.
He reached past you to grab one of the bottles, squirting the creamy gel onto his hands. He rubbed his palms together before his fingers began working, massaging your back. Calvin’s movements are as methodical as they are intimate. He doesn't rush. Every press of his palms, every slide of his fingers through the gel, feels calculated. He is treating you like a patient, yes, but there's something else that seems to spur on his actions.
He works his thumbs into the knots at the base of your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure, enough to make you gasp, enough to make your knees feel weak. It’s as if he’s erasing the version of you that existed in the outside world, scrubbing away the exhaustion of your old life to make room for the one he is building here.
As his hands slide down from your neck to the small of your back, his touch lingers a second too long. His fingers trace the curve of your spine. He seems to be memorizing your body, noting every dip and swell.
You let out a low moan as he applies firm, steady pressure to the knots on your shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to mask how good this felt. He shifts his position, his large, warm hands moving around to your front, his palms sliding up your ribs to cup your breasts.
Your eyes shoot open immediately. "C-Calvin, you don't need to-"
"I'm just checking for lumps." He cut you off, simply maintaining the pressure. His thumbs are tracing slow, rhythmic circles over your nipples.
The sheer audacity of his excuse makes your heart hammer against your ribs. You're ready to call him out for it, yet he beats you to it by slowly pinching the tips of your nipples. A yelp rips from you as you feel him smile against your skin.
"Good. Your reactions are still present. No delay." He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression entirely unruffled by your yelp or the way your body is trembling in his arms. His eyes are hooded, dark with a quiet, intense satisfaction as he watches the flush spread from your chest up to your cheeks. To him, your embarrassment is just another symptom to be managed.
He doesn't let go of your breasts. Instead, he slides his hands down to your waist, pulling you so tight against him that you can feel the steady, rhythmic thrum of his own heart.
"It's a sign of a healthy nervous system, even if your mind is currently trying to convince you that you're in distress." His hands continue, sliding from your waist down to your thighs.
"Do you know the different points of the body where you can feel for a pulse?" He asks, his fingers dipping dangerously low to your sex.
"No... Where..?" You whimper, your voice trembling as much as your limbs. You want to tell him he’s being unfair, that he’s being cruel, but your body is already beginning to arch toward him, seeking the very contact your mind is trying to protest.
"The carotid artery in the neck, the radial pulse in the wrist..." He continues, his voice calm, as if what he's doing to you right now was nothing more than just a casual conversation.
His lips graze the pulse point in your neck, feeling the frantic, thudding rhythm of your heart against his mouth. "...And here. The femoral artery. It's much more sensitive. Much more... telling."
You feel his fingers push firmly into the skin on your thigh. For a moment, you can almost feel your heartbeat beating against his fingertips. He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze before removing his hands from you altogether.
A feeling of disappointment settles in your chest, as well as relief at the fact that this is where he'll stop. Yet, your relief is short-lived when his hands suddenly return to you, his fingers dipping back between your thighs to caress your folds.
Your thighs instantly snap shut, hands flying to try to push him away.
"Calvin, wait. What are you doing?" You asked in a frenzied voice. His large hands are on your outer thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with a firm, authoritative grip. He begins to pry your legs apart, centimeter by centimeter, forcing you to reopen the very space you just tried to close.
"What am I doing?" He repeats your question, his tone turning slightly patronizing, as if he's explaining a simple concept to a confused child.
"I am continuing the examination. You're experiencing a spike in cortisol stress. You're reacting to the loss of control. But you must understand..." He pauses, his fingers sliding back into your warmth, finding the exact spot that makes your breath hitch in a broken sob.
He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropping to a dark, possessive whisper.
"Control is an illusion you've been clinging to for far too long. Let it go. Let me hold the reins. It’s much safer this way. Come on, open up for me.” His voice rasped in your ear. A torn whimper left your lips as your legs reluctantly parted.
His fingers stretched, massaging your outer folds steadily while his thumb began to apply pressure to your clitoris.
You jerked, knees buckling while your hands flew downward to grab his wrist once more.
“Calvin—“
He clicked his tongue, his free hand easily prying off yours.
“I’m your doctor, I know what’s best for you. Please don't fight me, it didn't go well for you last time,” He muttered, his goatee brushing over your neck. His fingers slowly spread apart your folds, teasing your entrance that began to leak with slick.
As his finger pushes past your folds, the sensation is overwhelming. You feel stretched, filled, and utterly possessed. The resistance your walls offer is met with a low, guttural grunt from him. You moan as you fight back the urge to rock your hips against the palm of his hand.
"How long has it been since you took the time to practice self-care? You are aware of how important that is to your physical and mental health, right?" He spoke, pushing another finger inside, feeling your walls stretch around him.
More whines drifted past your lips as your legs trembled. You can't keep your balance like this. Against your own will, your legs parted some more, allowing him a better angle to plunge his fingers deeper inside. His fingers curled within, slowly withdrawing before he began pumping them in and out.
“See? How good it feels once you just listen to me.”
His words only spurred you on as more moans began to echo through the bathroom. His fingers kept their rhythm, thrusting deep in your walls, milking you. A warm, tight sensation began to swell in your lower stomach, as your moans grew to a higher pitch.
Fuck... You're so close...
“Calvin— Fuck, I want to—“
Something hard began poking at your lower back, instantly silencing your mewls. A low groan left Calvin’s lips as his fingers trembled within you, slowing their pumps.
“Hold on.” He uttered, his head dipping into the crook of your neck.
Was he saying that to you? Or to himself?
If it were to you, you couldn’t help it. You had felt your orgasm building, and now that he had slowed down, it left a heavier ache in your chest. Before you could comment on it, you jolt, feeling his length glide into the space his fingers just were.
He feels thick, hot, pressing against your sensitive, swollen folds. He doesn't move to enter you yet. Instead, he rests there, letting you feel the heavy, rhythmic throb of his own arousal against your entrance.
"Calvin." You moan, looking down to see the tip of his cock poking from your thighs. The way he's angled, he's pressing into your clit.
"Look at you," He whispers, his voice sounding strained, as if he is speaking through gritted teeth. He reaches up, his large, damp hand cupping your jaw to force your eyes to meet his. His gray-brown eyes are no longer calm or clinical. They are dark, clouded with a lust that looks almost predatory.
"You're practically begging for me," He observes, his thumb tracing the line of your lower lip, pulling it down to reveal the damp pink of your mouth. "Tell me, is this what you want?" He spoke, a deeper rasp in his voice.
He doesn't wait for an answer. With a low, guttural growl that vibrates against your skin, he begins to drive himself against you, but not inside. Instead, he begins to fuck the sensitive, swollen flesh of your thighs. The sensation is a frantic, wet friction.
The heavy, blunt head of his cock slides between your legs, rhythmically grinding and slapping against the inner meat of your thighs and the sensitive folds of your vulva.
Because he is so thick and his movements are so forceful, every thrust sends a shockwave of sensation through your entire pelvis. He is using the friction of your own skin to drive you toward a madness you can't escape.
Moans and cries of want spill out from you, clawing at his hands as you try to keep yourself grounded. It just feels so good.
"That's it... let it out," He murmurs, his voice a dark, commanding vibration that seems to resonate deep within your chest.
He doesn't slow down; if anything, the sound of your need spurs him on, driving him to be even more relentless. He increases the force of his thrusts, the heavy, wet slapping of his groin against your thighs becoming a frantic, driving rhythm.
The friction is becoming a beautiful, agonizing blur. Every time he grinds his length against your sensitive folds, a new wave of electricity surges through you, making your toes curl and your back arch.
He shifts his angle slightly, a subtle adjustment that allows the head of his cock to catch the very edge of your clitoris with every heavy, sliding stroke. The sensation is so intense it's almost painful, a sharp, electric spike of pleasure that makes you cry out his name.
"Give it to me, give me all of it. Every moan, every shudder... every bit of yourself." With one final, punishingly heavy grind of his length against your clitoris, he pushes you over the edge.
The world explodes into a kaleidoscope of sensation as your orgasm finally shatters through you. A violent, beautiful wave of release that leaves you gasping, sobbing, and utterly undone in his arms. Your muscles seize, your back arches so violently it feels as though it might snap, and the sound you make is something primal, a high, broken sob of pure, unadulterated sensation that echoes off the sterile bathroom tiles.
As your legs tremble and nearly give way, his massive hands slide from your hips to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest with a possessive, grounding force. He holds you as if you are something precious and fragile. He lets you catch your breath, drawing slow circles on your skin. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. You both stay silent, trying to catch your breath when he suddenly speaks.
"Did you know that some women don't have a refractory period after an orgasm like men do, so they can have multiple without needing a break? Of course, some women can’t or don’t want to because it gets overwhelming. But based on what I've learned from you, I'd say you're a part of that population that can keep going."
"What?" You gasp, the word catching in your throat as the reality of his words sinks in.
You look at him, eyes wide, searching for a hint of a joke, but all you find in those cold, gray, brown eyes is a terrifyingly sincere, observant focus. Then, his grip tightens. It isn't a gentle squeeze. It is a firm, possessive anchoring of your hips, pulling you back into the heat of him. The sudden, heavy realization of where he is positioned makes your breath hitch. The tip of his cock is still there, thick, hot, and pulsing, grazing the very entrance of your aching, swollen folds.
“I was hoping to keep this more professional on my part, but...”
“You just feel too good.” He grunted in your ear. A gasp tore from your lips as he began to push into your vagina. A choked, broken sound escapes your throat, half a gasp, half a sob as your body stretches to accommodate him.
The ache that was once a dull swell is now a sharp, overwhelming fullness. You feel stretched, occupied. The friction of his skin against yours, the heat of his body, and the heavy, rhythmic throb of his pulse inside you create a sensory overload that makes your head swim.
Only the tip of him rests inside of you. He holds you there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sensation of him. His breath is hot and ragged against your neck, and you can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his entire body is coiled like a spring, waiting to snap.
"Don't try to fight the sensation," He breathes, his voice a dark, velvet command.
"Accept it. Let your body realize that this is where it belongs." He begins to move again, but it isn't the frantic, slapping rhythm from before. It's a slow, agonizingly deep crawl. He withdraws until he is almost entirely out, the cool air of the shower hitting your sensitized skin for a fraction of a second, before he drives himself back in with a singular, heavy lunge.
The sensation is a slow-motion invasion, a deep, stretching pressure that feels as though he is reaching all the way to your soul. A cry ripped from your throat as he pushed forward, wedging himself deeper into your walls.
“Relax, this will only hurt more if you tense up.” He practically cooed in your ear.
“Perhaps I didn’t stretch you enough. That’s my fault, I got too eager. But, a small fix. I just need you to cum a few more times; that will loosen you up.” You gasped as his fingers returned to your clit as he began circling it with a steady rhythm.
“A woman’s pelvic floor muscles begin to loosen and relax with each orgasm. All you need to do is let me work.”
Your head nearly slammed into the wall from how fast you crumpled. As your walls flutter and seize around him, the sensation of your internal muscles clenching against his thick length is almost too much for him to bear.
The 'doctor' is losing the battle to the man. That low, guttural grunt he lets out is a sound of pure, unadulterated hunger, a crack in the porcelain mask of his composure.
"That's it... Exactly like that,"
He doesn't pull back to let you recover. Instead, he uses the momentum of your orgasm to drive himself even deeper, his hips meeting yours with a heavy, wet thud. He is capitalizing on your vulnerability, pushing into the very center of your pleasure while your body is still in a state of frantic, rhythmic contraction.
He increases the pressure of his thumb against your clitoris, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding. He is driving you toward another peak before you've even had a chance to breathe.
He begins to pick up the pace, the slow, deep thrusts transitioning into a more forceful, driving rhythm. The sound of the water, the slapping of skin, and your own broken, high-pitched cries create a chaotic, beautiful symphony of sensation. He is relentless, a man on a mission to ensure you are completely, utterly 'loosened' and completely, utterly his.
"How does this feel?" He asks, nudging your head with his.
"Calvin— Fuck. It feels—It feels so good. Calvin, please— I want to cum. Please let me—!"
The sound of your voice, stripped of all pretense and reduced to a desperate, melodic plea, is the ultimate reward as he stilled for a split second. Suddenly, a sharp thrust came from within you, another cry slipping from you.
He let out a low moan, his hips unable to stop bucking into yours. You felt overwhelmed, breath caught in your throat as you could only moan in response.
His hand grabbed underneath your chin and forced your head back to meet his gaze.
"Say it." He rasped.
"Say who's making you feel this way."
"You—Calvin—!"
"Who's making you come undone like this?"
"Calvin—!"
"Shit."
His movements are no longer precise; they are frantic, desperate, and beautifully unhinged, driven by a primal need to reach his own breaking point alongside yours. As he crashes his lips against yours, the kiss is not soft or romantic; it is a collision.
It is a desperate attempt to swallow your cries, to consume your very breath, to ensure that even the air you breathe is something he has provided. His tongue tangles with yours in a fierce, hungry dance, while his hands remain clamped onto your hips, anchoring you to the storm he has created.
Every heavy, wet thrust is a signature, a physical testament to the fact that you are no longer your own person. You are his patient, his obsession, his masterpiece. The sensation is reaching a point of no return.
The friction of his cock against your swollen, overstimulated walls is so intense it borders on a beautiful kind of agony. Your vision is flickering, the bathroom light dimming as your nervous system prepares for the final, catastrophic surge. You can feel him swelling inside you, his pulse thudding against your internal walls in a frantic, rhythmic demand.
With a final, guttural moan, he delivers a series of rapid, punishingly deep thrusts. He is driving himself into you with everything he has, his entire body taut as a bowstring. The force of it sends a final, violent shockwave through your core, and as he hits the deepest point of your cervix, the world finally, mercifully, snaps.
You scream his name, your body convulsing in a massive, all-encompassing orgasm that feels like it’s pulling your very soul out of your mouth. And in that same instant, Calvin breaks. He stiffens, his muscles locking in a rigid, powerful spasm as he pours himself into you, his heavy, hot release flooding your aching depths.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in ragged, sobbing gasps, his entire body trembling with the force of his own release. For a long, heavy minute, there is only the sound of the water and the two of you, gasping for air in the wreckage of your passion.
He doesn't pull away. He holds you there, heavy and warm, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your back, as if he is trying to fuse your two bodies into one single, inseparable entity. You pant, trying your hardest to stay awake despite the lull of sleep pulling at your mind.
His fingers curled beneath your chin one more time, averting your gaze from the floor. His eyes stared into yours, his brows furrowed in thought.
"Calvin?" You whispered as, finally, a small smile settled on his face. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"Come, let me get you dressed. We have much to talk about."
Trembling Essence[New Update]:💙Android version available 6/12 at 5:00 p.m. PT!💙
Hello guys just wanted to give a quick update about the android/tablet version of the game since I've been a little quiet since my last post!
☀️🏝️The Trembling Essence[New Update] will be available to download on 6/12/2026 at 5:00p.m PT!🌞🌴
Since this is my first time doing this I want to be transparent about when it's coming out on itch.io, I'll make one last post about it once it's officially uploaded as well! :D
I did more testing and found a few more errors I didn't catch at first but as of now, everything looks better and just about ready. **The only thing I can't fix right now is the "[Endings Gallery]" but this shouldn't effect overall gameplay since it looks to be just a visual issue.
This is all I have to share again, if you have any questions let me know!
Anywho, thank you to everyone for all the support and continued interest towards the game!🍦:,]
how much affection can noah handle ?? can he candle an mc that's always trying to sit on him and kiss him all over his face :3 (bonus points: whats he doing when they genuinely pout in a corner if he eventually stops them /lh)
Awee this is so sweet. :,3
Lore time:
In the situation of Noah and Y/N getting very close, Noah can handle a pretty good amount of affection and won't shy too much away from it and would even return the affection back his own way. A fairly affectionate Y/N is something he likes as to him it means Y/N is comfortable enough to express that much genuine affection and trust towards him.
Bonus points: If Y/N pouted to a corner, he'd playfully yet sarcastically pout in the corner with them knowing it's all lighthearted fun.
Is Calvin the type to get jealous? If so how does he act when he does get jealous? Would he ever allow YN to go outside without him?
Calvin is definitely the type to get jealous, but not in the conventional sense. Flirting and physical contact wouldn’t irritate him as much as others physically or mentally caring for MC would. For example, he may get jealous if another doctor or nurse draws their blood. It would likely go something like this:
Also, due to legal reasons, he would never let MC outside. It’s very mildly hinted in the game that there is an investigation going on surrounding MC’s disappearance, but I think it was too vague for people to catch. So unfortunately, MC will likely never see the light of day again. However, if MC is polite and compliant, after a while maybe Calvin would let them on the back porch. He lives in like the middle of nowhere so they wouldn’t have to worry about privacy nor raising suspicion.
theartofmadeline
romaincrisis
gracieabrams
origamiaround
vaporwave
dailybridgerton
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
