#I hope you have a translator if you want to read this

[bbyquokka]

nerd in love

– after a misunderstanding, jisung finally tells yn how he feels at his birthday party .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | mutual pining , fluff , uni au – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | she/her pronouns used ; mostly in jisung pov ; food and alcohol mentioned ; a lil suggestive at the end

words | 10.1k ~ ( 10,133 )

notes | well, here it is! i started this before my break (which is why its so late) but finished it during my break n i just wanted to post it bc im proud of this n i adore this version of jisung n the friendship dynamics !! :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

your pen taps against the white, lined sheet of paper that has a few scribbles and doodles on. your cheek resting on your hand as you sigh a little in boredom. 

the professor has been groaning on and on about the same thing. you want to listen and take in the information as you know it's important, but your mind wanders and you start to daydream; making imaginary scenarios.

you'd imagine an alien suddenly abducting you because it heard your silent cries of boredom. you and the alien would become the best of friends, the alien showing you around it's space shuttle and inviting you to have some tea and cake before making friendship bracelets – because that's what humans do, right?

other times, you'd imagine a strong, buff greek god suddenly turning up in class. he'd walk to you and take your hand, claiming that you're his long lost bride, before carrying you bridal style and off into the sunset where you two would get married and have babies.

so caught up in your fake scenarios, you don't see that another student is now looking at you.

the student is sitting in front of you–his usual designated spot. black hair that's long and permed and covers his eyes. glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. dressed in a button up shirt and black jeans, paired with a few accessories and black doc marten boots.

“excuse me.” he whispers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “you're making too much noise.” he frowns.

you snap out of your daydream and sit up straight, wiping the imaginary drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“o-oh.. sorry jisung.” you laugh awkwardly. he tuts and rolls his eyes before facing the front. you scoff a little and sit back in your seat.

you don't have very many friends in university, a small handful but it's enough and you don't have very many enemies either, but since jisung started the same class as you, he's been cold towards you.

he's not like this with other people, just you–it's like he can't stand you.

but for some reason, his cold, mean demeanour just makes you want him and find him even more attractive.

it's not a kink of yours, to be spoken down to and degraded. in fact, you love having the attention on you and being treated kindly and gently so it's unknown to you why you find him so attractive.

“alright class! that's all for today. you're all dismissed.” the teacher says. you silently cheer, packing up your things in your backpack.

jisung rises to his feet and swings his bag onto his shoulder, letting it rest there before pulling out his phone. you both catch eye contact with each other.

“see you tomorrow?” you say politely and smile. jisung quickly looks away and mumbles something before walking out in a rush.

maybe you're still daydreaming, but you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. 

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“fuck, i’m so late!” you alternate between running and speed walking your way to your class. your alarm didn't go off this morning so when you finally awoke, it was up and out in a flash. “i'm so screwed!”

today is an important day. the teacher was going to go over a few things on a test that's due in a few weeks so you really needed to attend it to get an idea–but alas, here you are. hair disheveled, dried up drool on your chin and your socks mismatched with your backpack hanging off your shoulder.

you breathe a sigh of relief before stopping in front of the lecture hall doors. you take a deep breath and fix yourself up before reaching out to open the doors.

the doors suddenly swing open. the students exiting the hall. you stand in the middle of the students as they walk around you, engaging in conversations with their friends.

you frown in confusion, looking at the time on your phone. your eyes widen even more, bulging from the sockets.

“oh wow.. i really fucked up.” you were a lot later than you thought.

you look up to see jisung looking at his phone. today he's in a plain, black t-shirt and skinny jeans. a few chains hanging around his neck and converse.

“hey, ji!” you call out. he looks up at whoever is calling him before his face twists into disgust when he realises it's you. you ignore this, mainly because he rushes past you.

you frown and chase after him, trying to keep up with his speed–but he's too fast.

“hey! wait! i know you heard me, ji!!”

“don’t call me that. my name is jisung.” he mumbles.

“ok ok, sorry! just, i need help!” 

“find it elsewhere.” his tone of voice is cold towards you; like always. again, you ignore it.

“please, i’m desperate! my alarm didn't go off and i clearly missed class! i know it was super important too and–can you slow down and listen to me?!” you huff.

jisung lets out an irritated sigh and looks at you; phone in one hand, earphones in the other. he stops in the middle of the corridor and looks at you.

you bend down, hands on your knees to catch your breath. 

“you being late has nothing to do with me. it's your own fault for being late.” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, i know.”

“you fucked up and now you want my help? how could i possibly help you?”

“i need your notes.”

“my notes? fuck no.” 

“oh please, ji… sorry–jisung. i really, really need this.” you pout. jisung groans and rubs the back of his neck.

“ok, fine.” he sighs in defeat. you're taken aback by how easy it was for him to surrender his notes over to you; but you don't complain. he takes his notebook out of his bag and hands it to you. you cheer and open it up, looking at the notes.

his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are easy to follow, however, you've come to the realisation that looking at notes isn't going to be enough for you to get the information to stick in your mind.

“make sure to give it to me by the end of the day. i’m usually at the library.” he says as you flick through his notes. “if you can't find me, find minho. he's my roommate.” 

you don't respond due to the fact that so much information is causing your brain to go into information overload. jisung sighs again and, as he is about to walk away, you grab his arm.

“wait!” you make a quick mental note of how soft his skin is and how muscular he feels. jisung looks at your hand that's on him, feeling heat quickly rise to his cheeks and his heart to thumb erratically in his chest.

“your hand.” he whispers. you lean in close to get a better understanding of what he just said.

“pardon?”

“hand. your hand. please remove it.”

“oh!” you quickly remove your hand from him. jisung clears his throat and looks down, hoping that his long hair covers his face to hide the blush that's happily sitting on his cheeks.

you see it though and make a note of how adorable he looks. you feel your own heartbeat skipping beats and beating erratically but you put it down to you having to sprint to class.

“i don't think this will be enough.” you start. he looks up at you. “the notes.. i don't think it's going to be enough.”

“well, there's a library and also the internet. there’s this thing called google, so use that.”

“teach me.” his eyes widen in shock.

“t-teach you?! fuck no, yn!”

“please, jisung! just until the test is over! i really, really need this. i’m desperate and, although your notes are so perfect, it's going to take a lot more than notes for me to understand it!”

“then ask the tutor for a one-on-one! or ask your friend!!” he stutters in shock. his cheeks are now bright red.

“you know the tutor doesn't do one-on-ones and my friends don't even take this class! oh please, jisung. pleeeaseee. pretty pretty pleeease.” you pout, giving him puppy eyes.

“yn…”

“i’ll buy you your coffee everyday for a full month.”

“... just my coffee?”

“what sweet treat do you like?”

“...cheesecake.” he answers reluctantly.

“then coffee and cheesecake on me for a full month!” jisung runs his fingers through his hair slowly, a soft, defeated sigh leaving his lips as he contemplates.

“you really need this, huh.” you nod your head fast to the point of dizziness. “you drive a hard bargain, yn. but fine.”

you cheer and grin widely.

“on some conditions though.”

“what?”

“we study in the library, you don't be late and we only do this until the test is over! after that, i won't teach you anymore.”

“yes sir.” you salute. “oh, do you want my contact information? might make it easier to set up study dates.”

“study dates?” 

“yeah! i assume we have different schedules due to different classes, so it's better to text or call each other so we know when to meet up!”

“true.. ok, fine. give me.” you tell jisung your contact information. he phones you and you smile as you save his contact information.

“thank you so much, jisung! you're the best!” you say before sprinting off to find your friend leaving a flustered jisung bewildered in the middle of the corridor.

“study dates, huh.. i kinda like that.” 

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“dude, chill. you're just going to the library to study” jisung’s roommate laughs as he watches jisung scurrying around the place as he packs his bag. 

minho is relaxing on jisung’s bed, shirtless and in sweats with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose whilst eating an ice pop. him and jisung have been the best of friends since university started and he became jisung’s roommate.

since then, they've both been inseparable. many people speculate that something is going on between the two of them, indicating a relationship–minsung, they call them.

“i am chill.” jisung mumbles as he shoves in a few too many pens into his pencil case.

“yeah, suuuure.” minho laughs as he licks and sucks on his popsicle. “i’ve watched you run around the place like a headless chicken.”

“dude, please hush.” jisung looks at minho just as some sticky sweet ice drops onto minho's chest. he scoops it up with his fingers and eats it. jisungs sighs “do you have to eat that on my bed?”

“yeah. problem?” minho smirks

“yes. quite a few actually. you're going to get the sheets sticky!” jisung whines.

“not the first time i've heard that.” minho laughs at his own joke. jisung rolls his eyes but the corner of his lips turn upright into a smile as he holds back his laugh.

“you're disgusting.”

“yeah? and you're a mess right now, bro.” minho places the wooden popsicle stick on jisung's side table before swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.

he stands and walks to jisung, ruffling his hair a few times.

“you're just going to study, that's all. it's not that big of a deal, bro. unless….” minho smirks and wiggles his brows at jisung.

“unless what? what are you implying, minho?” jisung says as he crosses his arms across his chest and raises his brow.

“unless you, oh i don't know, like her.” jisung's eyes widen a little and he clears his throat, turning his head to avoid eye contact with minho. “aha!! i knew it! you do like ‘em!”

“no, i don't. fuck off, minho.” jisung mumbles and rushes to his desk, messing and organizing a few things to ‘look busy.’

minho skips over to jisung with a smirk. “c’mon ji. we all know you've been smitten with yn since the very beginning. it's soooo obvious!”

“dude, please. i don't like her like that. and it's jisung–not ji!”

“ahuh. whatever you say, dude.” minho laughs. 

“plus, she probably doesn't like me in that way..” jisung mumbles before sighing softly.

“have you asked her that?”

“well… no but–”

“then how do you know?” 

“i just do, ok?! enough with the questions, minho. don't you have that media assignment to do or something?”

“nope.” minho says, popping the p in an obnoxious way. “all done, which means i am a free man.”

“no one is a ‘free man’ in university, minho.” jisung laughs. 

“ugh, you're right. even though one assignment is done, i still have a gazillion more.” minho runs his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “speaking of which, i best start with at least one of them.”

“good luck, man. you'll do great.” jisung says sarcastically, paring it with a sarcastic grin.

“fuck you. good luck with yn, jisung.” minho turns around and walks out of jisung's bedroom. “hope you get laid!” he shouts.

“fuck you.” jisung laughs. minho sticks his middle finger up at jisung before laughing and closing his bedroom door.

with the last of his things packed, he zips up his back. he checks one last time in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying his best perfume onto his neck. he puts his hand up to his mouth, huffing on it before sniffing. pulling a face, he grabs a mint and pops it into his mouth, sucking on it as he puts on his shoes and a leather jacket.

“it’s just a study thing. it's not that serious. calm down, jisung.” he mumbles as he laces up his shoes.

but he can't stop his heartbeat from thumping loudly against his ribcage and excitement to rush through his body. his excitement is so big, it makes him shake. 

“it’s not a big deal. she probably doesn't like you that way.” he continues to mumble in an attempt to calm himself down as he takes one last look in the mirror. a smile slowly creeps up onto his face and a small squeal escapes from the back of his throat.

“fuck! i’m so screwed.” 

minho hears this and laughs at his friend's excitement before putting on his headphones. if there's one thing minho loves, is seeing his best friend happy and over the moon. he just hopes he won't get hurt.

“cute.” minho says to himself before typing away at his keyboard. jisung leaves the bedroom and shouts a goodbye to minho before heading out to the library.

nervous doesn't describe how jisung is feeling. as he walks to the library, his legs start to feel like jelly and the urge to turn back strong the closer he gets to his destination. he hopes that you're not there first just so he has time to calm himself down.

he even tries to listen to music in hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. but the soothing sounds of violins and cellos do nothing (he even tried listen to a few seconds of whale noises but even that was useless)

“we’re just studying. nothing more.” he repeats under his breath as he walks inside the library.

the place is nicely decorated, modern with a hint of an historic touch. students at tables and little cubicles, headphones on and studying. some in groups, whispering as they do projects of various kinds. some making the most of how quiet it is to take a quick nap. the occasional rustling of snack packets paired with the occasional crunch breaks the silence every so often.

it's silent but it's lively.

jisung says a few hellos to some students he recognises (either from classes they take together or them being minho's friends) as he searches the area for you.

his heart thumping as he searches. he silently cheers when he can't see you because he has a chance to calm down, but, as he walks to an empty table at the very back of the room, his victory is cut short as he sees you sitting there; ready and waiting.

you have your back to him (and to everyone else) and you're hunched over your notebook. jacket resting on the back seat with your bag on the floor, by your side. jisung takes a quick, small peek over your shoulder to see what you're doing only to see small, quick doodles on the page from boredom.

his heart swells a little as it's another thing he's learnt about you. just when he thinks you couldn't get any more perfect.

“hey, yn.” he whispers only to realise that you won't hear him no matter how many times he calls for you due to the music that's blasting from your earphones. he makes a quick mental note of who you're listening to before trying to get your attention again.

“hey, yn.” he places his hand on your shoulder to which you jump at, causing jisung to jump at your reaction. you look behind you as you take out your earbuds, sighing in relief.

“jesus, jisung. you frightened me.” 

“sorry, yn. i didn't mean to.”

“no, it's ok. my music may have been a little too loud.” you laugh as you put them away and jisung sits next to you on one of the chairs.

“you know you'll get tinnitus if you keep doing that.” 

“yeah… i know. it's a bad habit but music sounds better loud, y‘know!” jisung nods in agreement before pulling out his notebook and pencil case.

you watch him lean down. you take the time to admire him. his hair soft and fluffy. you have to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. a faint smell of strawberries and flowers emits from his hair; a sickly sweet yet pleasant smell.

his skin is dewy and perfect; not a blemish in sight. a beauty mark sits close to his lips. it's a small mark so it's no wonder you never recognised it before.

you notice the way his biceps bulge and flex with every motion of his arms. the chains from his neck dangle a little and his aftershave wafts towards you and tickles your nose hairs.

“you smell so good.“ you mumble. jisung looks at you.

“excuse me?”

“you smell so fucking good.” you repeat and lean in close to him. your hair tickles his jawline and chin as you smell the skin of his neck. “what do you use?”

“...i–urm, i don't know. i just picked it up when i was shopping.” you hum and nod. jisungs soft cheeks slowly start to feel very hot. “personal space, yn. ever heard of it?”

“oh!! sorry. my bad. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” you laugh awkwardly as a awkward silence falls upon you both.

jisung turns his head away from you so you can't see him but his cheeks are very red and hot as his heart beats fast. 

you were so close to him. so very, very close. he thought he was going to have a heart attack. he could smell you and to him, you smell so delicious and sweet; like vanilla cheesecake. 

“this is not good for my heart.” he mumbles to himself. 

“by the way” you begin. jisung looks at you. you slide a cold coffee and cheesecake in the middle of you both. “told you i’d stick to my end of the bargain.”

“i didn't expect you to do it so soon, yn. it's only the first session.”

you shrug. “a deals a deal.” jisung takes the cheesecake and coffee, sipping on it and humming softly as the bitter, cold taste coats his tastebuds and the caffeine enters his system.

“i didn't know what flavoured cheesecake you like so i hope it's ok.”

“what flavour is it?”

“strawberry”

“mhm, not bad.”

“you don't like strawberry?” you say with a small pout. he shrugs.

“it's fine. not the worst. but it's too sweet for me. i’m a vanilla kinda guy.”

“aah, ok. i’ll make a mental note of that.” you say as you tap your temple, laughing softly. jisung lets out a small puff of air from his nose. you see the corner of his lips curl into a small and that makes you feel like he's accepted you.

“now, enough chitchat. i actually want to be done in a decent time so, let's begin?”

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“sooooo” jisung looks up at minho, his chopsticks half hanging from his mouth, resting on his bottom lip.

the smell of spicy, instant ramen fills the air. minho cooked some food for the two of them as they have both been studying hard for upcoming tests and assignments. 

instant ramen with a slice of cheese on top. rice cakes, fish cakes and other yummy goodnesss swim in the broth. the kitchen looks a mess, pots and pans scattered everywhere–it contributes to the rest of the dorm with the various clothing and shoes scattered around.

“soooo…” jisung repeats, eyebrows raised. his bangs are tied back in a pink hair tie (your pink hair tie), a white vest top and sweats on his body. minho is also in sweats but with an anime print t-shirt and a sanrio clip to hold back his bangs and a pore strip on his nose; getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“have you asked her yet?”

“asked her what?” jisung takes some noodles and a fish cake, putting them on a small, separate plate before grabbing some kimchi.

“dude.” minho rolls his eyes and lets out a long, irritable groan. “for being smart, you sure are dumb.”

“you're just dumb through and through.” jisung smiles playfully as minho sticks his middle finger up at his best friend.

“fuck you.” minho takes a rice cake that's soaked in the ramen broth. he chews it, the sound of sticky, chewy rice cake emits from his mouth. “anyways! have you asked yn about the party?”

jisung lets out a slow grunt. “not this again, minho.” 

“what?!” minho says with a shrug as he continues to chew and talk.

“i already told you, and eeeeveryone else. i don't want a party or anything of the sort, minho. i just want it to be a nice, quiet day.” jisung’s eyes drift to the half chewed rice cake that's being tossed around in minho's mouth. he pulls a face in disgust. “and can you please not talk with your mouth full?”

“you're such a prude.” minho rolls his eyes but swallows his food regardless. “anyways, you know me, changbin and chan won't let you have a quiet birthday!”

“yeah, no shit.” jisung rolls his eyes as he slurps on his noodles. he wipes his mouth with a napkin before munching on some kimchi. “still don't understand why you all decided to plan a birthday party without my knowledge knowing full well i said no in the beginning.”

“dude, you're so boring.” minho jests. “it's your birthday!” he emphasise. “you're supposed to have a party, eat lots of cake and junk. drink beer, hang out with friends and maybe, get laid.”

he wiggles his eyebrows at jisung and laughs softly. with a heavy sigh, jisung puts his chopsticks down.

“no matter what, you're going to go through with this, aren't you?” 

“yup!” minho obnoxiously pops the P. “plus, things have already been ordered and organised for it. we already have a few people who confirmed they're attending.”

“who?”

“mhm–” minho puts down his chopsticks and thinks, looking at the ceiling as he does. “felix from fashion design. hyunjin from art. seungmin from business studies and jeongin who is also from fashion design.”

“how do you know all these people?”

“well, unlike some–” minho's eyes widen as he looks at jisung, indicating he's talking about him in particular “–some of us actually get out. plus, chan is like a social butterfly and changbin is charismatic. put them two together and well, people can't say no.”

“yeah, true. i remember when they begged me to work on a track or something for their music assignment.” 

“they both practically dragged you to do it.” minho laughs.

“only because you told them i said yes without me knowing about the situation!”

“because i knew you'd say no! you have a talent for this stuff, jisung. don't let it go to waste.”

“thanks.” he mumbles, hanging his head low in embarrassment and awkwardness.

“is that… is that a blush i see?!” minho smirks.

“me? blush? for you?! hell no!” jisung frowns. “the ramen is spicy, that's all.”

“dude… it's mild.”

“...fuck you.”

“so, are you going to ask yn or nah?”

“if it gets you and everyone else off my back, then sure”

“good. make sure you do!” jisung opens and closes his hand, mimicking minho's yapping.

“yeah yeah yeah. can we stop talking about this party and eat?”

“just looking out for ya, man. i know how much you like ‘em!” 

“i know. i appreciate it, minho.” minho nods and continues eating the ramen. jisung, on the other hand, is now lost in thought.

how the hell is he going to get the courage to ask you something like that?

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the study sessions are slowly coming to end. you kept up with your end of the deal, providing jisung with an endless amount of coffees and cheesecakes whilst he has provided you with an endless amount of insights.

one thing you have learnt about him is that he is smart. he knows how to do things with just a quick glance. he's good at explaining things so it's not confusing. 

you've been stuck on a problem for some time and no amount of teachers advice and youtube videos helped you. all it took was five minutes of jisung explaining the solution and it clicked.

today, however, you are alone in the library. jisung messaged you to let you know that he wasn't going to make it. you felt sad and a little heartbroken–you’ve become so accustomed to jisung's presence that you feel a little cold and lonely right now.

you can't concentrate. the music you're blasting down your ears isn't helping either. the text in your book is slowly starting to merge into one big splooge of text. the information just isn't getting through to you and it's frustrating.

you sit back in your seat and sigh as you take your headphones off and throw them on the table. 

“this is pointless.” you mumble. “i can't concentrate. maybe i should just skip it.”

you take your phone and browse through social media before subconsciously opening up the food app. your mouth salivates as you look at the various burgers, fries, pizza and sweet treats–and then your stomach growls.

“maybe i’m just hungry. that's why i can't concentrate.” you pack your things and head to the university cafeteria. the menu looks dull so you settle on a simple sandwich and drink.

the cafeteria is packed. the atmosphere is buzzing with the endless chatter of students. you take your seat and pick up your sandwich.

it's a standard ham salad sandwich with some dressing on. the slices of ham and lettuce (too much lettuce for that matter), tomatoes and other salad stuff squished together by two slices of thick, white bread, smothered in dressing.

you take a few bites. it's ok. it's not bad but you've had better. the bread is a little dry for your liking but the dressing takes that away. you open the cap of your bottled drink and take a few swigs to help wash it down.

“what do we have here?” you turn your head in the direction of the voice–that thick aussie accent you know all too well.

“ew. go away chan. you're disturbing my peace.” 

“charming. don't think that's something you should say to someone you haven't seen in a while.” he says with a pout as he walks to your table and sits down. he's joined by another man, a friend of his, perhaps. he sits opposite you.

“and whose fault is that, huh? maybe if you answered my calls or texts every once in a while.”

“sorry, yn. i’m just a busy man, y’know.” chan grins as he leans back in his seat, brimming with confidence.

“yeah. too busy being the campus whore.”

“blah blah blah. least i’m getting some.” he elbows you in the side a few times. “what are you getting, huh?” he jests.

“a degree? y'know that thing i came here for in the first place.”

“oh ha ha. very funny, yn.” chan mocks, rolling his eyes at you before stealing your sandwich and taking a bite.

the male opposite you clears his throat as a way of telling you both “hi, i’m still here.”

“oh! yn, this is minho. minho, yn.” minho's eyes widen a little and his lips twitch into a small smile.

“so, you're yn. nice to put a face to the name.“ he grins.

“you know me?” you blink a few times in confusion.

“i’m jisung’s roommate.” you mentally slap yourself. of course!

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i didn't realise! i’m so bad with names.” you whine. minho laughs and brushes it off.

“and how do you know jisung, yn?” chan says with a mouthful of food; your food to be exact. you glare at him, daggers darting out of your eyes and straight into chan as you snatch your sandwich back off him.

“jisung’s my private tutor as of right now.”

“oh.” chan nods before his eyes suddenly light up. he looks at minho for confirmation. “wait, hold up.”

minho nods and smirks. “nah. really?!” you watch the two men talk in code as they communicate by facial expressions and a stings of “ohs” and “yeahs”

“uh, hello. i’m still here!” minho laughs softly.

“sorry, yn.” you shrug it off and eat your sandwich. “how do you two know each other by the way. chan has never mentioned you before.”

“good. keep it that way.” you say coldly, mainly aiming it at chan. chan pouts and nuzzles into you, head on shoulder. he looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout.

“aww. don't be like that, bestie. you secretly love me.” you flick his forehead.

“me and chan are childhood friends. haven't been able to get rid of him since.” chan smiles at your sweet implication. “he's like a parasite. or a fruit fly in the summer.” his smile drops and now, it's your turn to give chan a big, sarcastic grin–teeth and all.

“rude.” he mumbles. you shrug and finish off your sandwich. 

“so, jisung is your tutor.” minho speaks. you nod.  “are you attending his party?” 

“party? what party?” you look at chan and minho. minho sighs a little and runs his fingers through his hair.

“i warned him.” he mumbles under his breath in irritation before looking at you and smiling softly. “me, chan and a few others are organising a birthday party for jisung.”

“his birthday is coming up?!” your eyes widen. “when? i should get him a gift”

“14th.”

“14th?! that's pretty soon.” you mumble.

“jisung told me he would invite you.” you shake your head no. minho rubs the back of his neck. “well, this is awkward.” 

“it’s ok. maybe he has his reasons as to why he didn't mention it to me. no biggie.” you say with a smile. minho nods before a few minutes of silence dawn upon the three of you.

“out of curiosity.” you break the silence. “how is jisung in general?” minho tilts his head to the side. “it's just he seems so….” you think for a second, thinking of the right (and nice) word to use “... cold towards me.”

“cold?” 

“mhm. he seems so bitter towards me and i don't know why. we barely even talked in class but when we did, he would always tell me i’m making too much noise and to hush.” you slowly start to feel slightly irritated. 

“jisung is fine with me.” he says with a. shrug. “he's pretty chill around me.” you huff.

“i know he can be friendly because whenever i see him in the corridors talking to someone, he smiles and is so friendly!”

“what’s he likes now, yn?”

“well, now that we've been spending more time with each other, he's… i don't know… avoiding me to some degree? he won't make eye contact with me. he doesn't like it when i touch him.”

chan raises his brow and looks at minho, both men thinking the same thing. chan puts you in a gentle headlock and ruffles your hair.

“hey!! get off me!!” you push chan a few times, using all your strength to make him release you.

“you're pretty naive, yn.” chan laughs, continuing to ruffle your hair. he ignores your screams and yells, minho laughing at the two of you.

finally, chan let's you go. you push him with all the strength you have left before fixing your hair and glaring at him. chan pouts and nuzzles into you once again.

“i’m sorry, yn. forgive me?” he puckers his lips and makes kissing noises, edging closer and closer to you. you hold him at arm's length.

“ok ok!! just quit doing that!!” chan laughs and pats your head gently.

as fast as he was in the cafeteria, jisung is soon out of it after seeing you and chan, with nothing but festering jealousy in his stomach.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

you bounce through the library to your designated spot at the very back, coffee and cheesecake in each hand with your bag swinging on your shoulder.

jisung is there, punctual, as always. but something seems a little off. the air around him seems thick and suffocating–dark even. 

“hey!” your cheerful voice ringing in his ears, making his heart beat fast. you sit next to him and slide over the coffee and cheesecake.

today he's dressed in a yellow and orange flannel shirt and white tank-top. black jeans and boots to accommodate. a few of his nails are painted in black, chipping from wear and tear.

he gives you a cold nod of the head. you frown a little but choose to ignore it as you take your books and pens out of your bag.

“so, what's the plan for today?” jisung shrugs. “...ok, well how about we go over that question i was struggling with?”

“k” he reluctantly moves closer to you. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafts towards you and tickles your nostrils, making you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

“you smell good, jisung.”

“mhm, thanks.” you let out a silent sigh. something is wrong with him and you don't know why. is it something you've done? something you haven't done? 

jisung is being very dry and sour with you. his usual method of teaching you is that he would go into detail and repeat until you'd understand it, today, however, he's very short and sharp.

“i don't understand.” you say. jisung sighs, a long irritated sigh. you bite your lip, thinking that you've done something to hurt him in any possible way.

“what don't you get?”

“all of it…” he sighs again and rubs his face. his eyebrows furrow together in irritation. the jealousy he is feeling in his stomach is festering, becoming more and more intense.

every time he looks at you, he is reminded of the way you and chan were together. he hates that. how could you fall for someone like chan? he thought you were better than that. his head swimming with negative and harsh thoughts.

before he can stop himself, the words just spill without any control. “why don't you get chan to do it for you.”

you blink. “chan? what does he have to do with this?”

“i mean, you two are close are you not?”

“i mean.. well, yeah, i guess.” you shrug. “he does get on my nerves sometimes though. he is such a pain! but he's a good gu–”

“i thought you were better than that, yn.’ he spits.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you feel the bubbling of rage in your stomach as you stare at jisung, who stares at you back. the jealousy has consumed his body and it's too late to back out now.

“as in, i thought you had standards. chan? of all people? he's a whore, yn. everyone knows that he sleeps around on campus and you chose him?!”

“i don't appreciate the way you're talking about him, jisung.”

“it’s the truth, yn! and you know it so why are you with him?! you can do sooo much better than him!!”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “then who is good for me, mhm? please, enlighten me?” 

jisung freezes. he looks away and chews his bottom lip. you scoff and pack your things in a hurry.

“i don't have to listen to this bullshit. you've been in a shit mood with me this whole time, which is fine. everyone has bad days. what's not ok, however, is you taking it out on me and bad mouthing the people i care about.” you stand up, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. jisung stares at one spot of the desk, burning holes into it. “text me when you're in a better mood.”

you walk out, leaving jisung to think about what he has just done.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“jisunggggg. sungieeee. knock, knock. let me innn!” the sound of minho's high-pitched, cheery voice irritates jisung to the bone. he lets out a slow and irritated groan, hot puffs of air slowly exhaling from his nostrils.

he pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his fingers through his unwashed hair. sitting at his desk in the same baggy band t-shirt and sweats from a few days ago, he checks his phone for the nth time, only to be disappointed.

he hasn't spoken to you nor seen you since that day. in class, it's worse. he's tried to catch your eye a few times, smiling when he does, only for you to turn away. he spent days loathing in his own self pity, locking himself up in his room and only coming out for food, bathroom breaks and class.

minho has had enough. not only is jisung's mood ruining the atmosphere, but minho has no idea as to what happened that day. he was home when jisung came back to the dorm, looking like he was on the verge of tears. 

when he asked, jisung always gave the same answer of “mind your own business.”–and he has; for several days now.

“let me in, jisung.” the repetitive sounds of minho's knuckles against the wood door cause jisung's stomach to bubble more intensely with anger–until he finally snaps.

he rushes to the door and swings it open, brows furrowed together. minho's smug grin makes him foam at the mouth.

“what part of leave me alone don't you understand, minho?” jisung's words dripping with poison. minho shrugs it off.

“all of it.” he pushes past jisung, making himself at home in his bedroom. jisung has no time to protest, all he can do is watch his best friend jump on his bed and rest on his back, arms behind his head.

with a heavy sigh, jisung walks back to his desk. he turns his back on him, hoping that if he ignores his friend, he will get bored and eventually leave. minho watches his friend pick up and put down his phone several times to the point where minho feels irritated by it.

“so?” minho starts

“so?” jisung repeats

“going to tell me what's happened? haven't seen you this down in a while.”

“nope. i'm good.”

“you can't keep moping around the place, jisung.”

“i can and i will.” minho groans and stands up, walking out of the bedroom. jisung mentally cheers only for it to be cut short when minho throws his jacket at jisung.

“put it on.” it's more of a demand than a sentence, but nonetheless, jisung obliges because if he doesn't, minho will force it on him.

“where are we going?”

“to the cafe.” minho puts on his shoes, jisung following suit.

“aah, dude.. i don't really fe–”

“shut up, we're going to the cafe whether you want to or not. a change of scenery might cheer your moody ass up because, to be quite honest, i’m tired of seeing your gloomy ass face.” he looks at jisung who is frowning at him. “in the nicest way possible, of course.”

jisung rolls his eyes before following minho to the local (and one of his favourite) cafes. 

it's a small, local café with an old fashioned sense of style to it. the tables and chairs are worn. cushions on the chairs losing their stuffing and the tables scratched and chipped. the décor is outdated, indicating that the café has been there for quite a few years; but it feels like home to some.

the bell above the door chimes as minho and jisung walk in. they walk to the counter and say their orders before taking their lunch and drinks and sitting at a table.

jisung takes a sip of the coffee. he feels the ice cold beverage trickling down his esophagus and into his empty stomach. minho munches on his chicken salad sandwich, watching his friend look in his drink and ponder.

“i fucked up.” jisung mumbles, lost in thought. the more he thinks about you, the more he can feel the tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. minho tilts his head to the side and as he is about to open his mouth and encourage his friend to continue, a familiar sound in the form of a laugh causes jisung's head to shoot up and look in that direction.

his eyes widen. he feels relief and happy to see a smile finally on your face; but then that same, the green monster in the form of jealousy parks itself on his shoulder and starts whispering in his ear.

minho watches jisung's jaw muscles clench. his facial expression goes from relief to jealousy. minho follows jisung's gaze and raises his brow at the sight of you and chan.

chan is being his usual, goofy self. he's telling you typical dad jokes and being a little grotest by telling you his latest hook-up details. you push him by the arm and roll your eyes, sipping your coffee in the process. chan continues to joke around with you, play fighting a little by wrapping his arm around the back of your neck loosely and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles.

“i can't fucking stand this.” jisung mutters bitterly under his breath. minho turns and looks at his friend who is green with jealousy.

“stand what?”

“seeing someone as precious and innocent as yn be with someone like chan!” minho blinks a few times.

“what do you… jisung, what do you think yn and chans relationship is?”

“isnt it obvious? they're going out!” minho gives jisung a few blank stares and blinks before bursting out into laughter, choking on his own saliva in the process. “what?!” 

jisungs cheeks flush red with embarrassment but also with anger. his own friend laughing at his statement, finding amusement in his sorrows.

“are you serious? please tell me you're joking?” minho stutters through his giggles.

“dead serious.” jisung says, deadpan. “don't you see the way they are with each other? i saw you all the other day, in the cafeteria! chan's arm around yn and them being all…. lovey!!” 

“oh my god.” minho calms himself down. “you really are serious!”

“i told you! i even asked yn about it and well… it didn't go so well.”

“is that why you've been so moody and upset lately?” jisung nods his head slowly, feeling some type of guilt. minho sighs heavily, wondering how he can soften the blow of the news he's about to give his best friend.

“jisung…” minho starts. “yn and chan are not dating.” jisung's face drops.

“excuse me?”

“they're not dating. they're just childhood best friends. apparently they've known each other since they were kids. “

“so you're telling me.. that i got it all wrong when i saw you three in the cafeteria?“ minho slowly nods whilst giving a sympathetic smile. jisung sits back in his seat in disbelief. “why did chan never mention yn?! fuck, i fucked up… i really, really fucked up…” 

“oh, c’mon. it can't be that bad.” minho tries to lighten the situation.

“dude. i told her i thought she had standards! i called her best friend a whore!”

“i mean, chan is a whore. he knows he is and he doesn't hid–”

“dude, please.” jisung interrupts. “not right now.” minho shrugs and sips his coffee whilst jisung rubs his face whilst groaning. “what do i do?”

“well.” minho puts down his coffee. “you make it right. admit you were in the wrong. explain how you were a jealous lil guy because you like her and that you fucked up.”

“and how do i do that? she’s been avoiding me for weeks and it’s not like i can go up to her right now and be like oh hey yn, sorry i called your best friend a whore oh, by the way, i like you.” jisung mocks himself in a high pitched voice, his face turning red in frustration.

“you're so dramatic.” minho rolls his eyes with a soft, yet heavy sigh. “for a smart guy, you're pretty dumb too.”

“pft, am not!” jisung scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. “... only when it comes to stuff like this.” he mumbles. “i just… don't know what to do or how to fix it. i really, really like her, minho.”

“ok? and? what do you want me to do about it? there's no point telling me about your feelings for yn. i'm not the one that fucked up and then decided to hold myself up in my room to drown in my own self-pity.” minho says with a shrug.

to the outside world, minho's words sound harsh but to jisung, it's a reality check. 

he sighs softly for the nth time as he glances over at you. he watches you laugh and smile with chan, soaking in your beauty and the way you glow with happiness. 

“to make it easier for you.” minho breaks the few seconds of silence between the two, feeling a little responsible for his friend in need. “i may have mentioned your birthday party to yn.”

“what?! why?”

“bro, you weren't going to mention it! so i just.. did you a favour.” minho shrugs, a smug look on his face.

“... is she coming?”

minho shrugs. “dunno. she seemed interested at least but this was before you called her best friend a whore so–”

“that was an accident. i didn't mean to.. i just got too–”

“worked up? jealous perhaps?” minho says, or rather states, with a raised brow. jisung hums and nods his head slowly, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. 

minho chews on his straw as he watches his friend think. he can see the cogs turning in jisung's skull. jisung is inexperienced when it comes to relationships so seeing him like this, brings minho slight amusement.

“look, jisung. if she turns up, you approach her and apologise whilst also telling her how you feel.” minho holds his hand up to jisung who is just about to protest but is quick to close his mouth and listen. “if she doesn't turn up, you find her the next day, apologise and tell her how you feel. heck, text her if you have to!”

“dude… you know i can't do that!”

“ok. then you have the other option, which is to keep wallowing in your self pity and watch yn from the sidelines.” minho shrugs. “i don't know dude. be the main character for once. you clearly like her so take the chance.”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

jisung's birthday rolled around. you haven't heard nor spoken to him since the argument so you didn't originally plan on turning up to his birthday party; but chan being chan is forcing you to go as his plus one.

“is this ok?” you smooth down your party outfit as you present yourself to chan. chan is sitting at your dressing table, dressed in blue, skinny jeans, a compression shirt that hugs and molds his muscles and combat boots. a silver chain around his neck, earrings in one ear and a few rings on his fingers.

he looks up from his phone and smirks playfully. he wolf whistles at you to which you scoff and roll your eyes at.

“looking good there, yn.”

“really? i threw this together at the last minute.’

“you look great, don't worry. you're gonna knock ‘em dead.” chan laughs.

“i really don't want to go, chan.” you groan.

“weeeell, too late. you're coming with me to this party, even if i have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

chan has heard about your little argument with jisung from minho. the two of them had a drink together during the week and chan listened to minho vent about jisung.

once minho mentioned the fight did it all come together. you've been feeling down and withdrawn, not knowing what to do or how to deal with your feelings. you've put on a fake smile and basically faked your way through the weeks–but chan has known you for years so he can see through you, he just didn't want to press you.

you'll come to him when the time is right; you always do.

“do i have to?” you ask for the nth time whilst putting on your shoes. chan laughs at your contradicting actions and shakes his head before standing up.

“yes, you do. it'll be fun and hopefully, it'll lift your spirits.” you pout.

“i have been a little moody lately, haven't i?” chan raises his brows and scoffs.

“a little!? pur-lease! i thought knives were going to spawn out of your eyes at one point.”

“mhm.. i’m sorry chan. it's just been a long couple of weeks with a lot of thinking.” you sigh softly. chan elbows your side gently.

“hey. let's not think about that right now. let's go to this party, have a couple of drinks and a dance, yeah?” you nod slowly.

“not like i have a say in this.”

“that's my girl. now.” chan grabs your hand gently and pulls you to the front door. “let's go have some fuuuun!!!”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

it's loud. the bass of the music rings in your ears and shakes the ground beneath you.

it smells. the stench of stale cigarettes, sweat and alcohol tickles your nostrils and causes you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.

you've tried several times to turn away and head back but chan was always right there.

chan abandoned you to go chat up some girls so you're sat on the sofa, surrounded by people making out, drinking or passing out (if they haven't already)

you hold your red, plastic solo cup which is filled halfway with some punch. the smell is pungent and the taste is awful. it's too strong for your liking so you take small, delicate sips.

as the night rolls on, you have yet to see jisung. not that you want to but, it would help you feel some comfort and less suffocated to see a familiar face.

you glance at your phone screen. 11:20 pm. it's soon time for you to leave. you don't want to be here any longer than you have to and considering that chan has left you alone, you don't feel the need to be here any more.

you stand up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. you shimmy your way in and out of crowds of people who are dancing, talking or making out with someone that they won't remember tomorrow.

you pour your drink down the sink and throw away your empty cup. as you're about to turn and leave, a familiar voice is heard from behind.

“yn. hi.”

you turn on your heels and a sense of relief washes over you as you come face to face with a face you've been longing to see (even if you don't want to admit it)

you forget why you're so angry at him for a split second. his beauty never fails to make you feel star struck and silently go “wow.” but then you remember.

“hi.” you reply coldly.

“can i talk to you?” he shouts, hoping his voice isn't drowned out by the music.

“not right now. i was just about to leave.” you walk past him to leave. jisung grabs your arm gently to stop you. you look at him and he is quick to remove his hand.

“please? just… let me explain…” he chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched together in the middle. you think for a second and sigh softly, nodding slowly.

“ok. fine. but make it quick.” you swear you see the corner of jisung's lips curl into a subtle smile, his eyes lighting up a little. he beckons you to follow him so you do.

you follow him outside. compared to inside, where it's hot and humid, the harsh, cold night air is refreshing and soothes your damp skin.

“look.” he starts as he stops walking to turn to you. “i know i was a complete asshole.” you scoff but don't say anything. “it's just… aah fuck, how do i say this.”

you watch jisung slowly become flustered. the tips of his ears turn red, his hands clammy as he shakes a little. he shuffles on his feet to shift his weight and avoids eye contact with you.

“fuck.. this is so hard… minho said it'd be easy once i get talking but fuck minho.” jisung rambles to himself. the anger you felt slowly disappears and is replaced with… joy? 

your stomach feels a little bubbly and tingly with excitement as you watch this nerd, whom you've grown so accustomed to, become easily flustered and shy because of you.

“just say what's on your mind, jisung.” you say with a shrug. his eyes flicker at you for a second before looking to the ground.

“ok.. well…” he takes a deep breath. ”i like you and i always have and the reason why i got so pissed and called chan a whore, who i later found out was your childhood best friend, was because i was jealous of how close he was to you and i saw red and i didn't mean it. in fact, i've been cooped up in my bedroom in my own self-pity because i'm a coward and i don't deserve someone as wonderful as you and i’m really sorry. can you forgive me for being a lil silly?”

you blink at him several times. jisung dared take a breath during his little speech so all the information that has suddenly been laid on you, isn't going through your head right now.

“ah fuck.. i fucked up again, haven't i?” jisung shakes, his voice wavering as it breaks the tension in the air. his nerves shaking his body as a shaky hand picks at the skin around his fingernails. “god i knew i shouldn't have said anything. why did i take minho's dumb advice.”

“i… i don't know what to say, jisung. it's all so much.” you say in pure shock.

“oh, that's ok! i’m not looking for an answer right now. please, take your time. i just wanted you to know my true feelings and why i acted out. the last thing i want is for you to feel forced.”

“so let me get this straight. the reason you acted out is because you got jealous of chan, thinking that we were dating?” you watch jisung slowly nod his head, his cheeks turning pink; whether that's from embarrassment or from the harsh cold air. “and that you.. like me?”

jisung nods again. “silly, right?” he laughs, trying to soothe himself of the raging anxiety that's heavy in his heart and stomach.

“no.. no! not at all. i think it's kinda… cute.” 

“cute?”

“yeah. i mean, well, being away from you has got me thinking about me, you and well.. us and how i feel.” jisung walks closer to you, closing the gap between you both.

“and how do you feel, yn?” you swallow a little. the atmosphere has suddenly shifted between you both. jisung is close to you, his body daring to press against you.

you can see every detail of his honey skin under the faint moonlight. the cold breeze sweeps between his hair strands. a faint hint of cinnamon and apple from his aftershave tickles and hugs your nose making you inhale deeply for more.

“at first, i was angry at you. i didn't understand why you were so angry. but i spoke to chan about it and during the conversation, he made me realise something.”

“what?” jisung encourages. he gingerly places his hands on your waist, unsure and testing the waters. his touch is as light as a feather and when you don't push him away, his grip becomes firm. 

“that maybe, i like you too and i have for the longest time. i just never realised it because i thought you hated me but, when we spent all that time together, i started to notice the smallest of things about you and i found them to be so cute. but they're cute because it's you.” 

you slowly run your hands up his chest to his shoulder. his breath hitches and body trembles from your touch. with more confidence, jisung pulls your body flush against his own, closing the gap completely.

“so, you like me too?” his voice dips to a whisper. you hum and nod slowly. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

“why don't you show me.” you whisper against his lips, teasing him by brushing yours against his slowly and gently. they feel soft and plump, kissable even. 

“you're playing a dangerous game, yn. you have no idea how long i've wanted you.”

“show me.” you whisper again, furthering your teasing by ever so lightly licking his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

“fuck.” jisung groans. his lips crash against yours in a heated kiss that's filled with longing. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. you melt into the kiss, the both of you becoming synchronised instantly.

you tilt your head to the side a little to allow jisung to deepen the kiss. he licks your bottom lip and you part your lips slowly.

his tongue slides in to meet yours and you're in a battle of dominance that you lose. jisung's hot kisses make you melt and crave for more. you forget about your surroundings, forget where you are. everything is a buzz in your ears and you can only focus on you, jisung and how your body is tingling and twitching.

jisung is the first to pull away. he pants heavily, his own body trembling with excitement. 

“wow.” you hum in agreement. as soon as his lips are off yours, you want them back on you again; whether that's on your own lips or on your body, you don't care as long as you get to feel the softness again.

“is this real?” he asks.

“it's real.” you respond, giggling softly. “and i’m not drunk either so.”

“so, what does this make us?” jisung cautiously asks. he wants to have an idea of what you two are slowly becoming. he wants to make sure you're both on the same page.

“whatever you want us to be, jisung.”

“well, i want you to be mine. i want to show you off to the world, proudly. i want everyone to know that you belong to me. i want to spend every single second of the day with you and during the night, i want to spend every single second caressing your body from head to toe. i want to soak myself in every single bit of detail from your body. i want to drown you in pleasure and my love.” 

you swallow and let out a small, shaky breath at the implications behind his words. your body trembles with excitement and anticipation from where tonight is going to end and for the future with jisung.

“then.. shall we go ditch the party and go back to mine? because i want that too.” with a fast nod of the head, jisung holds your hand and is quick to make way to yours.

“let's go and let's be quick. i want to make you mine, in more ways than one.”

[hanjsquokka]

COME PLAY. ╱ seo changbin.

───── detective seo changbin, a “by the book” detective, is forced to work with a hot tempered prosecutor to solve the murder of a prominent government official. the case, at first glance, seems like a straightforward political assassination, but as the two dig deeper, they uncover a web of corruption, betrayal, and hidden agendas that reaches the highest levels of power. ( series : ongoing )

INFO : detective! seo changbin × fem! prosecutor! reader, thriller, mystery, law, opposites, forced proximity, slow burn, strangers to ?, angst, mature themes, includes other skz members as well as a few other idols

WARNINGS : includes gore, violence, blood, death, foul language, alcohol consumption, smoking, etc. read at your own discretion! this might get pretty heavy so please keep that in mind. the personality of the idols depicted does not reflect on their actual persona, this is a work of fiction and must be treated as such. (each chapter will have its own warnings!)

WORD COUNT : ? k

TIMELINE : tba

NOTE : december will be a good month 😽🫶🏼 here's my early christmas present for you guys, as requested. i did a lot of research and planning for this one, so let's hope i manage to finish one series before this year is over 😭 tysm for your continuous support 🥺🩷 ( announced here on 14/11/2024 )

─────── EPISODES

THE FIRST CUT ( to be unlocked 🔓 )

( more to come soon . . . )

─────── TAGLIST

if you want to be tagged, please send an ask/dm me/comment on this post or full out my taglist form. i will only be tagging blogs that follow my rules + that will interact with reblogs & comments because it is a hassle to tag so many people and only one or two of them give me any form of feedback 🩷🩷🩷

@stayconnecteed @starlostastronaut @ta3baee @caitlyn98s @bbokari711 @oddracha @n1nme4r @dprkbyn @sleepyleeji @realrintaro @starlostseungmin @baby-stay92 @frequentlykit @cookiesandcreammy @starseungs @peterparkoure @katchowbbie @kayleefriedchicken @spookyzclown

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[july13th2004]

Today marks the 5th anniversary of this wonderful, beautiful piece of fanart! There's not much more for me to say about this piece other than it's probably my favorite piece of Kranna fanart of all time. This art is the home screen on my phone, the wallpaper on my laptop, the background on my Fitbit, the background on my phone’s keyboard (Gboard), and I even made a simple Chrome theme with it for myself. I also had it custom framed and this piece is now hanging on the wall above my bed. I love this fanart that much!

I also wanted to commemorate the anniversary of this fanart with a few possibly interesting facts about the title of this piece. The Japanese word for Eternally is eien ni (pronounced eh-en nee). The word eien means eternal while the sound/character ni is what forms the adverb, eternally. The word eien ni can also translate from Japanese to mean always and/or forever in English, which makes perfect sense considering the prompt this piece was made for.

Anyway, I hope some of you found that to be at least a little bit interesting. I have something special I'm going to post later today in celebration/honor of this piece (and with what I've been posting lately, you can probably guess what that is), so look forward to that, and thanks for reading!

Source

Artist: テアズ

Kranna Week 2019

Prompt: Always/Forever

永遠に

Eternally

[oslvni]

𝐎𝐒𝐋𝐕𝐍𝐈'𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

Merry Christmas everyone! As my gift to you all I wrote something for u all to every weekend until Christmas. Ik ik, to love me. Some fics are 18+ to minors beware! The characters consist of Leon Kennedy, Chris Redfield, Luis Serra, Ethan Winters, and Jill Valentine !! I love u all guys enjoy your Christmas !!!

1, December 7- 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈 "ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴍʏ ɢɪʀʟs ᴛᴏ ʙᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘ" Ada, Ashley, Claire, and Jill hc about baking for the holidays. wc. 000 - warnings. none - an. Merry christmas everyone im so excited to do this again !! ive in a funk lowk but i feel like events and deadline help sm :3

2, December 8- 𝐄. 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 "ʙᴀʙʏ ɪᴛ's ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴏᴜᴛsɪᴅᴇ" Ethan winters finally has a day off and wants you to stay over even though you have to go. wc. 000 - warnings. established relationship, slightly suggestive, reader replaces Mia and no Rose - an. guys i used to be a fein for Ethan and it used to suck bc no one shows Ethan love like Leon (including myself but still)

3, December 14- 𝐋. 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀 "ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴄᴇ sᴋᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʀɪɴᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴᴛᴏᴡɴ" Luis was so certain that he was the best at ice skating even if he never has been on the ice before wc. 000 - warnings. none. - an. lmao i based this on an event that happened not too long ago. ice skating is so funny when people fall

5, December 21- 𝐂. 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 "ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs" Chris, is finally off for the holidays and is so happy to spend time with family and friends. wc. 000 - warnings. established relationship, married, dad!Chris, porn with plot, afab reader, size difference, quickie, piv, praising, creampie - an. With this being one of my many blogs, i have never wrote smut for chris or read anything with chris of i hope u like it :D

4, December 15- 𝐋. K𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘 "ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ʟɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ's sᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ" Leon wakes up in your bed to you between his legs only as a present because he’s not going to get one from her wc. 000 - warnings. unestablished relationship, cheating, no plot, blowjob, gn!reader, pet names, doggy - an. Guys i do not condone cheating but is lowk fun to write abt.

6, December 22- 𝐀. 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 "ᴀ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs sʜᴏᴘᴘɪɴɢ" Wesker hates Christmas shopping so he's going to has fun with you before he goes back to something he hates. wc. 000 - warnings. established relationships, semi-public sex (bathroom stall) afab reader - an. I also don't condone public sex bc thats disgusting but its hot sometimes

7, December 25- 𝐋. K𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘 "sᴀɴᴛᴀ ��ʀɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ" Leon has been gone longer than expected and is going to miss Christmas with you :( or is he? wc. 000 - warnings. angst, porn with plot, side fuck, afab, established relationships, bitter ending, pet names, slightly mean Leon :(, - an. gng are you getting daja vu bc i lowk tried

© OSLVNI 2024 - do not copy, translate, plagiarize or repost any of my works on any platforms without my consent.

[chongoblog]

SUPER MONKEY BALL: BANANA RUMBLE TRANSLATED

So I've mentioned a few times that there's a written language in this game. To my knowledge, I'm the only one who's been actively translating everything, so I figure I should post it. Shoutouts to viv for repeatedly reminding me to make this. It's gonna be a BIG post, so I'm putting it under the cut

If you wanna see all the cool work put into this (or if you're a puzzle solver who wants to help crack a code I'm hoping to crack) then journey onward

So first of all, here is the code as we have it (as rough estimations made by yours truly)

Over the course of this post, I also found out the numbering system (as you'll see once we reach Oceanus), so here's how numbers work, although they appear rarely

Some of them vary depending on handwriting, but this should do a good job of telling you which is which.

This game isn't lying to you, that book DOES say "Journal". And each goal is labeled as such and has a sticker saying "Monkey Resort"

Here are all the brochures for each world (you may need to click to enhance). Caelum's is definitely the most interesting, but these helped me a ton to figure out the language.

The hat reads "SMB"

Here's a collection of a bunch of little misc. translations

Here's a whole section just covering Neon Arena

This section turned out to be huge, because a lot of figuring out an upcoming section is partly thanks to this one (I literally just now confirmed what X looks like with Boxing, and as a lesser note, I think we not have confirmation on numbers. Yahoo). Anyway, I don't know why it says meme, but I don't care

Anyway, here's Palette's diary that shows up during the credits completely translated (spoilers of course)

Now for the real meat and potatoes. Oceanus. What's interesting about Oceanus is that a lot of the writing is flipped for whatever reason, and it translated out to mostly gibberish (AND it used numbers). Very interesting way to portray what's supposed to be a dead language. There are multiple square panels which each include 35 characters (except one I think?) and a few circles that have 20 characters apiece in them. Is it meant to just be gibberish? I don't think so. The way it's hidden and formatted doesn't seem like an afterthought (especially when you take a look at how much writing IS in the game) I haven't had any luck making sense of them, but if it means anything to you guys, let me know!

Anyway, that does it for the codes for now! I think I missed pasting a couple of these (for example, the card that Easel leaves in Story Mode and the Easel card item in battle mode says "Preliminary Notice" on it). If you have any questions or any leads on this Oceanus stuff, let me know!

[linearao3]

Do you have any recommendations for the best fanfics you’ve read? Reylo or Six of Crows

Thanks so much and happy thanksgiving

Thank you! Sorry to be late answering but I hope you also had a happy Thanksgiving/Thursday.

As to recs— well, I am waiting to travel so I will try to keep things brief. Reylo favorites: Tactical Surrender by @destiniesfic has A+ action and very faithful characterization, as well as very fun OCs and excellent chapter structure. the Sword of Prince Hector by @englishable brings to the surface and wrestles with some of the latent moral questions of Star Wars as well as larger questions of punitive justice and atonement. (Their modern AU, Janus, is also what brought me around to modern AUs in general.) @again-pls has an unfinished canonverse AU, Ego Eris, that is wonderfully light on its feet and has some of the best depictions of the Force I’ve seen. (I don’t believe there are currently plans to finish it, but it remains a very enjoyable reading experience and there are elements of this fic I have genuinely mistaken for canon.) Take Me by @slipgoingunder makes excellent use of country music, both lyrically and as a scene, to create an immersive AU. Honestly, the reylo fanfic pool is so enormous that sheer numbers dictate an excess of writing talent. I do recommend bookmark-hopping over sorting-by-kudos for finding what you want.

In Six of Crows, I must of course immediately mention @whatanybodygets; I was slow getting to Adagio but now I blab about it to people who aren’t even in the fandom, and save the undone years is also absolutely smashing and makes me weep. (I also really like how the AU translation of Inej’s relationship with Heleen focuses on sexual control as the violation of autonomy.) @darol’s The DeKappel Heist (and other tales) does a truly delightful job of reminding us that Kaz and Inej are streetwise, savvy, talented, and also idiot fucking teenagers, god bless. @rainstormdragon has many excellent fics but I will call out in particular Wraith, which looks directly at the ugliness of the violence that Kaz and Inej inflict and throws it into relief by changing the balance. There are a number of fics by @alltheworldsinmyhead expressly designed to fuck you up but I’m very partial to pour away the ocean. Often fanfic relationships can find themselves falling into preset lines of behavior and reaction, and I love the rawness of Inej’s jealousy. I could go on, but I’ll just wrap up with @pyrrhlc’s fic hybrid signal, which features some wildly inventive and evocative magic, and a Kaz who can have his feathers stroked.

I don’t know why Tumblr won’t let me add the Tactical Surrender link! But I hope you find some good reads, and I’m sorry if you’ve already read all this; it’s kind of just what was top of mind.

[itsbeenliketenyearsitsprettywild]

on tag responses and reply trains or: "click the readmore for my analysis of the the (mostly) Greek love terms that sum up jayvik and jaymel and also at some point i forget how to shut the fuck up and turn this into what might as well be a thesis paper on jaymel as a duo and How Mel Is Dedicated To Jayce Her Own Way"

starting from op @aurieeeeeenyx's tags that got me thinking:

#you mightve guessed that ive been listening to the hadestown soundtrack again recently#but anyways. jayce going back over and over and failing in timeline after timeline in the hopes that maybe this time. maybe just this once#he'll succeed and get his partner back#viktor putting the whole of his faith and trust in jayce that jayce will come back for him even though he fails again and again#but still viktor cannot imagine not believing in jayce one more time#the way the entire universe hangs in the balance of their bond oh man#i feel like jayvik is beyond categorization they're like the peak of classical romance which is not necessarily kisses and dating etc#but like the purest form of intimacy and affection. or something#i should write a fic abt this#anyways . idk . im a big fan of meljayvik so mel fits in here SOMEWHERE i just havent figured it out yet#if you made it to the bottom of this wall of tags here's a pie 🥧

(the last tag isn't exactly relevant, but hey. free pie 🥧) my response in the replies (with a few spelling edits):

moreso than calling what Jayce and Viktor have 'classical romance' (as such a phrase feel like it could be confused with the Romantic movement in the arts, which doesn't have much to do with love directly), I feel like it would almost be more accurate to describe it using the ancient (and a just few more modern) Greek terms for love. They already exist as a way to delineate the many types of love that can exist either combined or singular that can be part of a relationship between two people. (there's like eight or nine different Greek/Greek-derived words to categorize love at this point depending on who you ask, feel free to look 'em up yourself - there are six ancient Greek ones in there too. the Greeks have been dissecting love for a *very* long time) Of the types of love exhibited between Jayce and Viktor specifically, I think what you're getting at is that it's a bond which involves this incredibly beautiful blend of philia and agape, with a bit of mutual meraki as well. In actual English - their bond is made of deep personal affection on a mental/personality level (philia literally translates to 'soul connection') which isn't hurt by their shared love of creating/inventing new technology together. All of this being further boosted by the fact that they would anything for each other, even if it means damning themselves or other reallities in the process. I'd love to go into meljay as contrast, in large part because their relationship feels pretty unique in terms of what we see in media, but there's only so many characters allowed in a reply lol. feel free to ping me if you want me to put the rest of the deets on this or another post, though (and clarify you want it on a reblog instead of a reply if that's the case, as i default to replies otherwise)!

op's reply:

actually it's funny you say this because the romantic movement in the arts is pretty much what i had in mind just because of the like...aesthetic? i feel like it comes with a certain mood of sublime beauty and some mix of nature/humanity/passion/nostalgia while being both subdued and Not, which the jayvik finale sort of embodies to me if that makes sense (but then again i'm not an art connoisseur so i could be spouting total bullshit) i do agree with your analysis of their bond in the framework of greek terms for love and think that funnily enough it goes back to the orpheus and eurydice thing again (arcane when i come for you and your greek tragedies WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU--) sooo i guess i'll have to do some more research on that and i'd love to hear about your thoughts on meljay! if you feel comfortable i think a reblog might help more people see it (in which case you might need to put my notes and/or your comment as context to this admittedly very short post) but i don't mind either way :D

And, since the notes and comments have been placed, time to continue (I've been using this website for reference and been extrapolating best i can, but I'm no expert on the subject so feel free to correct me on it)

I honestly find JayMel really interesting to analyze from this perspective, because I feel like media doesn't show many relationships with this unique blend of loves, and especially not presented in a way where it's actually given some weight and value to both people within it. So, to start:

This list is very, very long, so let me this for the sake of everyone's sanity...

TL; DR - While Jaymel absolutely involves sexual attraction between the two of them (and is sometimes connected to these more casual, playful moments between the duo), those aren't nearly all the facets of their love. Some of the other types include: how they both enjoy working on Hextech (from the angles of technology and politics respectively), even if they sometimes have to make deals and do things with it they personally don't like; the surprisingly tentative yet compelling nature of their friendship together; the practical ways they (read; mostly Mel) are willing to help and support each other on a much more functional level, and how that in turn plays a very large part in letting them further emotionally connect with one another and deepen their bonds as people.

First (and most obviously), Mel and Jayce's dynamic obviously has a fair amount of eros in it. Eros can best be described as 'sexual love' or 'physical desire for each other' - the kind of love most people (largely allosexuals) assume are a part of "romantic" relationships by default, though one doesn't have to be a couple to act upon mutual eros. Either way, it's absolutely a part of their dynamic that deserves to mentioned and recognized - pretty sure none of us are going to forget the Sextech scene any time soon, and all. But that's only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to their dynamic.

In a fair few scenes where eros between them is evident, there's also pretty obviously some ludus going on. Ludus is one of the more modern categorizations love types, and describes 'playful love' - something more casual or carefree, no strings inherently attached, but a noted expression of affection all the same. You know that forge scene in season 1, where Mel sarcastically calls Jayce's smithing 'a delicate art' and she watches him sexily hammer out some metal, or at the end of that same scene, where she leans into him seductively... only to smack him in the tiddies with his own forge bolt and adds the one-liner, "Hold onto your nuts?" That absolutely reads as ludus following up on the eros within their dynamic. After all, ludus is the kind of love found in booty calls and one night stands, but could also just be enjoying a night out drinking with your pals. Which makes jaymel really interesting, considering the fact that it's also steeped in the opposite type of love....

....Which, in all honestly, I feel like I'll only be able to talk about once I've described meraki. You see, this and the next type of love seem pretty deeply entwined with one another when it comes to my categorizing and understanding of jaymel, but it feels like this is the one best needed to help describe the context of the other. Now, meraki one of the terms coined after the ancient Greeks, being a modern word that most people who don't speak Greek down know about. Essentially (and i could be wrong about the best term to use - but honestly i legitimately feel like this a type of love that shapes them, and don't know a better word to use), meraki is the love of creation, the love one pours into the act of making art or writing poetry or skillfully setting a table - or, best as i can sum all that up, a love of your work/what you do. And, lest we forget, the thing that brought them (alongside Viktor, though he's not the focus of this post) together is... well, Hextech. It's just that the work Jayce and Mel happen to be doing in relation to creating Hextech happen to be quite different in nature. Nonetheless they're both quite necessary for its creation to come to fruition. For Jayce, this 'love of creation' he has for hextech is quite literal - he's one of the two geniuses who invents, designs and very directly builds machines and technology that utilize Hextech within them, and it's obviously from the get go that he loves the idea of it so much that he dedicated his life to it (something something what that means in terms of what he said in the finale-). Mel, meanwhile, also loves Hextech and how she goes about creating it - but, in her case, she creates far less literally than how Jayce and Viktor do, though still plenty important. Because, for all the boys physically create the technology, it wouldn't be able to have nearly as much of an impact as it does if there wasn't someone politically advocating for its use and working for it to become societally integral. For all Viktor and Jayce may love making their gadgets and gizmos that utilize it, she's the one who loves it enough to build it up as A Brand and help get Jayce into top enough form that Hextech can even have its own seat on the council (no matter how much she regrets that decision almost immediately afterwards. But, it's this difference in terms of how they precisely they go about creating Hextech that can lead to a divide in how much they enjoy particular parts of shaping that leads to struggle in staying dedicated to specific parts of the process, which really comes down to their comfort with....

Pragma, or 'practical/dedicated love'. Pragma is the final love term coined after the time of Ancient Greece, and essentially acts as the complete opposite of ludus. While ludus is all about fun and in-the-moment playfulness, pragma is the love shown by doing what needs to be done to keep things functional, even if said actions are not particularly fun or enjoyable themselves. It's not the same thing as agape/'sacrificial' love, because it's not a case of being willing to throw everything just to keep this one person happy. These things are being done because they have to be done to make sure everything stays okay, not because the thing they love comes before absolutely anything else. Though it might seem boring (or maybe even selfish, if you compare it to agape in particular), it's a huge part of all kinds of relationships you can find between people, and says as much about nature of a dynamic as anything else. But, as stated, this type of love between Jayce and Mel is seen very specifically when it comes to their mutual love for Hextech and less directly for each other. In making Hextech and allowing it to flourish as a technology, steps have to be taken to ensure sponsors and investments, so that they never lose access to the resources required to continue working on it. As such, deals have to be cut and made, as seen in the concert scene, and continuing to make sure Jayce and Viktor's projects are properly funded is something they have to do over and over again just to keep things moving. In this sense, the main difference between the two of them in this context is the nuance of their meraki - for all they both enjoy creating Hextech in some way, the types of work they enjoy dedicating themselves to contrast quite a bit. For Jayce, politics and lobbying for funding are only a small part of what he does for Hextech - and not what he gravitate towards naturally, charismatic as he can be. To him, his love of is for the literal process - the one that Viktor both enjoy creating as a team moreso than they'll ever enjoy doing it alone. Meanwhile politicking and dedication to Hextech's social and financial success (which is where a lot of the pragma comes to the forefront) is what Mel enjoys doing - alone if necessary, but preferably with one of the creators of Hextech at her side, to have another hand on deck and a more direct face to associate with it. As such, it *does* make its own kind of sense that the duo (jayvik) whose meraki is almost identical have an time easier time bonding personality-wise (tho i do think Mel and Vik would have an easier time of it- *shoves my melvik-in-the-polycule headcanons in a box for later*), in comparison to the fascinatingly tentative nature of Jayce and Mel's....

Philia, or 'soul connection'. For all it sounds like a term for soulmates or such, what it really just means is that two people get along well with each other when it comes to general socializing and interaction. This is the type of love that underpins deep friendships, but also romantic couples that go beyond just being sexually compatible (or queerplatonic couples - sadly, the terms for love never developed in such a way to make it *easy* to differentiate aspec couples from other kinds of dynamics, but we work with what we got), or even just coworker who get along pretty well. And it's here in particular that I find jaymel compelling as we see them in the show, because, for all we see them work together well on Hextech and be playful with each other and Do The Fuck, their philia seems... surprisingly awkward, or at least not nearly as natural as it is for jayvik (or how i headcanon it would be for melvik). To be clear: you're allowed to headcanon jaymel as more naturally friendly than this, like how many people like to extrapolate jayvik out to include some level of eros (which, once again, not disparaging, just noting as not being shown in Arcane directly). But in terms of what we actually see in the show... jaymel has a bit of a hard time with getting close on an emotional level. Which i honestly really appreciate; the show doesn't invalidate the love that is there simply due to this fact, after all. All the other parts of their relationship exist and are recognized in the narrative while still letting the philia between them not come as naturally as everything else. People's personalities may end up with them clashing fairly often, but they can still be close anyways. (well, as long as they work at it - but I'll segue into that subcategory in a little bit.) And because of this, they're able to take a very fun option: showing some of these moments of tension or awkwardness between them, and letting us as the audience watch how the two navigate and end up resolving these moments. Though some of these moments do end up getting interrupted by a third party, which can end up impacting how these moments of tension end up getting resolved. (I'm looking at you, Viktor, for how you interrupted that moment between jaymel and instigated the season 2 council room fight. go to ur eldritch jesus shame corner /lh/j) Speaking of reaction: Mel and Jayce each have distinct ways of expressing emotional distress (at least most of the time - Mel lets herself get a lot more angry with her mother than she would otherwise). For Jayce, his reactions are what he's infamous for in fandom - impulsively jumping into action based on his current feelings without considering what consequences. (read: almost always not what he wanted.) Meanwhile, Mel tends to withdraw into herself and act more emotionally unaffected than she actually is - for example, how her reaction to Jayce leaving in the middle of the night after Sextech is to... well, paint, and respond relatively neutrally up until Jayce justifies his actions. But it's in resolving of these conflicts that the two of them are able to start building up their philia and comfort with each other (beyond their mutual focus on hextech or sex) into a deeper level of companionship. The reason why their philia is able to end up further developing is due to the active usage of...

Pragma, not within the framework of Hextech. You see, Hextech-focused pragma can quite often lead to added tension between them instead of anything getting resolved, as seen when Mel gets Jayce voted onto the council without asking him first. In comparison, many of the moments of pragma between them that aren't focused on Hextech itself often lead to to bonding moments between the two of them as individuals. (Which makes sense as talking about work, even if you like doing it, doesn't tend to lead to much personal emotional intimacy.) Alongside that, there's one other thing that differentiates these moments of pragma from those focused on Hextech directly: in those situations where willingly taking action leads to them getting closer, it's almost always Mel who takes the initiative. For Jayce, the vulnerability he shows to her is never from a place of willingly dropped guard or conscious intent, but instead due to being absolutely overwhelmed by his emotions. As such, it's Mel who consistently dedicates herself to their relationship by reacting in ways that only really serve to benefit or support Jayce, such as: -> accepting her suddenly-given role as emotional after the discovery Viktor is dying -> voting Heimerdinger out of the council on Jayce's inferred behest -> comforting Jayce over said vote that he pushed through -> stalling while he's supposed to be leading the council so he has time to find Viktor -> implicitly supporting Jayce's decision to bring Viktor back from at least the brink of death, if not death itself, at the beginning of season 2 Even past the ones I listed, there's so many moments Mel has which speak to her own brand of love for Jayce, especially in season 1. Times where she very much chooses to act in favor of his interests, even though it in no way benefits her, can be readily pointed to as cases of pragma. For all they might not be big and noticeable, they help keep the dynamic functional and healthy. Though, that's not to say Jayce doesn't have a moment of pragma outside of working on Hextech. Though, unless I'm missing something, it is just. A singular moment for him. Which is after his implicit apology for the argument the two had in the council room before the Viktor fight in season 2. After the apology, Mel goes on to open up to him about how she unlocked her abilities as a mage, that he comforts her by saying that Mel could never be just a passenger in her body - this is a moment that, while it does nothing to help him personally, still speaks to him caring about Mel. But... that's pretty much we only case we have of him directly engaging in pragma in relation to Mel. (...But then again, we see a lot of him and his active cases of pragma in those situations in season 1 focused on Hextech in particular, so in that regard it evens out if you consider pragma a whole without those specific contexts in mind. But I digress.)

There's potentially one other type of love i was tempted to add to all this, but this post has gotten very, very long, so i think I leave it here. If you somehow got this far down: holy shit what the fuck (impressed). For the sake of the sane people. I think I'll be putting my TL;DR at the top of the list.

oh yeah also jayvik are extremely orpheus and eurydice coded i don't make the rules

[nevertheless-moving]

More from the Hesina Willshaper AU. Specifically Continued from Here.

while hesina and Lirin were travelling with the band of freed slaves the two were loosely in charge, but decent enough at delegating that other people quickly took on major leadership rules.

erk. gonna need a bunch of ocs

layla, 8th dan before being sold to pay family debts. quartermaster/ house steward role. roughly same age as hesina. worked mostly as a house slave.

she had actually managed to half pay off her slave price, something she gripes about for laughs, she could have bought cool stuff with that money. most of the money came from the child she had, who was sold as a baby, wouldn't be able to find it if she wanted to, and she's not even completely sure she does.

layla is fascinated by different peoples religions, languages, beliefs...she's met people from a surprising number of countries working as a lighteye's servant. mostly self taught reading, hesina teachers her to write. hesina and her talk a lot about religion and philosophy. one of the few people who doesn't put hesina on a pedestal. hesina's first squire.

it seems that the squire rules are different for each order. i'm wildly but confidently headcanoning that willshapers get exactly ten, and they can tangibly feel each squire bond being formed.

willshapers have an interesting relationship to Connection. Connections can free you. Connections can become chains. best to be aware. either side of the willshapers squire bond can break the connection at any time.

(willshapers also have an interesting relationship to Oaths. Oaths can very definitely become chains. they just... i mean oaths still matter, but they don't take breaking them as seriously as some of the orders. circumstances matter. people grow. the spren once vowed not to bond with the singers again, and yet...it's been millenia. The lightspren are thinking. Things have changed.)

they're not freeing people because they made an oath. They made an oath because they chose to free people.

-

Ruush, 5th dahn before being enslaved for refusing to follow orders. One of the only ones with actual military training, though his leg was broken and healed wrong, meaning that he could only train, not fight, until he became hesina's second squire and healed.

Often Lirin's guard. Only 15 years younger than Lirin, but has for sure called him dad. Lirin calls him son and tries not to lecture him too much on being a soldier.

Ruush is mildly bemused by the entire concept of pacifism (Not common among Alethi!) and listens very patiently, with genuine if slightly abstract interest. i mean, you gotta admit, violence does beget violence. wild. anyway, back to work.

Has heard enough stories about Tien and Kaladin that he pretty much thinks of them as his brothers.

When kaladin and him finally meet kal is... mostly cool with that (sure, this might as well happen. can't have too many brothers). but there is significant disagreement over who's oldest.

-

shortly before making it to Urithiru oathgate they run into the listeners. layla and ruush hastily throw up some walls between them while Hesina tries to communicate that she comes in peace. The listeners scramble to get Eshonai to translate.

it takes some time to talk. the translation process with the council of five. mistrust on both sides. lirin gives an impassioned speech about wanting to be free from violence, and some listeners swear they could almost hear the man attuning to the rhythm of hope.

Eshonai gives her plate and blade to Thule before traveling to Urithiru. Venli calls her a fool. The council approves. This might be their one last chance.

Eshonai returns full of enthusiasm. This is it. They could escape. They would still need gems to make the fields grow, but the Neshua Kadal leader women and her mate have been robbing other humans blind while traveling. This could work.

-

Venli presents her own radical idea, storm form, a form of power.

Maybe two thirds of the listeners take the chance on Urithiru.

A third stay on the shattered plains to fight for vengeance to the bitter end.

-

Listeners slightly outnumber human population. People learn quickly that any violence gets randomly duplicated, which Lirin is weirdly smug about. Eshonai spends a lot of time on language lessons.

After sitting down and talking it out, they eventually decide to make a council of ten — 5 humans, 5 listeners. Hesina's lightspren is given the deciding vote if they tie.

They need each other too much to operate separately, even if the place is technically big enough.

Over the course of a month they actually settle into a decent routine. There's some mistrust, but Eshonai manages to explain fairly eloquently why they decided to kill the king, fearing being enslaved by the return of the gods

yeah the humans can get that. we don't really care about the king anyway.

the parshendi were shocked by how brutally and disproportionately the Alethi responded

tell me about it. i once scratched a window and was beaten until i couldn't walk.

Really, things are promising, common ground, willingness to move forward together.

-

Layla draws her own lightspern to much rejoicing, reaching the third oath, so now they can move between the oathgates without worrying about leaving people trapped in Urithiru without Hesina.

Eshenoi swears her own first oath!! even more rejoicing!!! listener and dark eyes going together into the future freely and equally.

if only they could convince Venli's revenge splinter group to join them. of course everyone wants vengeance but... they want to live more. they want to live for more.

the 'stormform' group is going to get themselves killed. and if somehow they don't... fear grows that the songs, the warnings about forms of power — they were for exactly this moment but what are they going to do? attack their own people?

The radiants alternate going out on a few more raids, freeing more slaves. They also bring stolen parchmen now, which they had mostly decided to leave behind in past raids, as they wouldn't really help in their own escapes at all, and everyone felt bad continuing to treat as slaves even if they come with, but they just...stand there. The Listeners are continuously baffled by them.

Some humans think about another few thousand years of their children and their children's children and their children being tenth dahn eternally ... they know humans who are dead behind the eyes and stormfather. If you bred for that...

-

(a storm is coming and things are going to get messy but those who were there will look back on these months and know how important they were. when the lighteyes come and the singers come things will change. but for a moment there was something beautiful and almost pure. and those foundations will matter more than anyone could possibly imagine)

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 18

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

“(italics)” Indicates that the speaker is speaking in Spanish (unless stated otherwise). This author only knows English, and I did not want to misrepresent Spanish by using Google Translate.

First - Prev - Next

CH.18

“FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS I LAY DORMANT. WHO HAS DISTURBED MY- Oh hey Fordsy, what’s up?”

“Cipher, I need to project into a different mindscape.”

“I already know who it is, but tell me anyways.”

“My mother, Caryn Pines. I need to glimpse into her memories. She should still be asleep at this time, going deeper into her mindscape will be easier than if she were awake.”

“Oh, wow, your own mom. Aren’t you worried she’ll know it’s you?”

“She’s not a real psychic, my muse. She will be none the wiser.”

“If you insist, let’s hope that isn’t foreshadowing.”

SNAP

(...)

“Stan, this is Ms. Ramirez, and she is the Hypnotherapist I referred you to.”

“Stretch here has been saying great things about ya, ma’am.”

“Hello Mr… Stan? The last name is blank… (I’m sorry).”

“(I'm not offended. I don't know what it is either.)”

“(Where did you learn Spanish?)”

“(Colombia.)”

“Ah, yes. Dr. McGucket, are you sitting in on this session?”

“Yes, I am.”

“And Mr. Stan, you are okay with this?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Very well… This dosage of ketamine is based on your height and weight, and will be delivered intranasally. I also adjusted based on your extensive drug history. Normally, I’d consider this dosage to be lethal but…”

“Don’t worry, not dying when I really should is actually my first or second greatest skill.”

“...First or second?”

“Yeah, it’s interchangeable with lying.”

“Try to be honest during this session at least…”

(...)

“How are we going to find her specific memories about Stanley and this… accident?”

“Well Fordsy, her mindscape is structured like a carnival-”

“I can see that.”

“You can. They can’t. Anyways, one of these rides or attractions gotta be based on guilt or grief, let’s start there.”

(...)

“Let’s go back to when you were first on the streets, Stan.”

“...Okay…”

“How old were you?”

“17.”

“How did you start out?”

“Lived… Lived? I was- I was living in my car…”

“Only there?”

“For a few weeks… had a hard time. I caved and went to a homeless shelter but- but only once. Never again.”

“Why is that Stan?”

“...Something bad happened.”

“What bad thing?”

“I… I… I don’t want to-.”

“You don’t have to talk about that specifically, if it’s too distressing for you. Do you remember anything else from the homeless shelter? Was there a reason you went there that time and not before?”

“That one had free telephones.”

(...)

“Okay so we’ve been to the Dunk Tank of Phobias, The Rifle Range of Unrealistic Beauty Standards, The Deep-Fried Food Stand of Excuses, The Carousel of Broken Dreams, The Dime Pitch of Daddy Issues, The Strength Tester of Mommy Issues, The Roller Coaster of Regrets-.”

“Bill, you don’t have to list off everywhere we’ve been, everytime we are about to enter another carnival attraction.”

“You never know when the narrative will pick us up again.”

“I do not even want to know how that reasoning works.”

“Ah- look over here Sixer! It’s the Funhouse Mirrors of Memories!”

“I can read the sign, my muse.”

“Let’s go in here, and wander around aimlessly until we find that specific string of memories you’re looking for.”

(...)

“You needed to use the telephone?”

“I was… scared.”

“Scared?”

“I just… I just wanted to talk to my mom…”

(...)

“Is this the home of Caryn and Filbrick Pines?”

“Yes? Is there a problem?”

“Ma’am, do you recognize this license plate?”

“STNLYMBL… Yes, that belongs to my son, Stanley- is something wrong? Did his car get stolen?”

“Ma’am… You may want to sit down for this.”

“We should skip this part, IQ. You already know what they’re about to tell her.”

(...)

“Can you remember what you wanted to talk to your mom about?”

“I didn’t know what to do… I wanted help, I…”

(...)

“Where… where is everybody?”

“It looks like PTSD Barnum had a mostly empty funeral.”

“That can’t be-.”

*Bill suddenly winks out of the scene*

“Stanford? What are you doing here?”

“...Ma?”

“You weren’t at this funeral, sweetie.”

“Where- Where’s Pa? Where’s Sherman?”

“Shermie couldn’t make it, his son was sick. And your father… He won’t admit it, but he wouldn’t be able to handle it, so he didn’t come.”

“And who is that?”

“An IRS agent.”

“This isn’t over.”

“Ma… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Stanford, I tried to. Every time I brought up his name over the phone you hung up. I thought you knew and… you weren’t handling it well, just like your father.”

“Ma, you can’t really believe Stanley’s dead. He-.”

“You should have known first, Stanford. Can’t you see your bond was severed?”

“...Bond?”

“Your twin bond.”

“That is not a real thing, Ma.”

“You do not get to project yourself into the Astral Plane and tell your Ma what is or is not real here.”

“...”

“I need you to think about your brother - really, really think about him. How much you loved each other, how close you were. And imagine there is a rope between you two… like one that keeps a boat attached to a dock.”

*a rope suddenly appears, with one end fading into Ford’s chest. The other end appears clean cut after a few yards*

“Just as I thought.”

“What is this, Ma?”

“I told you, sweetheart. Your twin bond. Not all twins have it, but you two did. You can see… the other half is gone, it’s been severed. There’s nothing for you to attach to anymore.”

“Th-that doesn’t mean he’s dead! Couldn’t one of us have severed it another way?”

“One of you would have to have enough of a presence on the Astral Plane to manually sever it. I can see you are here, but if you do not remember severing it, it means Stanley would have had to have been the one to cut it. And… your brother never showed me the ability to deeply meditate enough to have a presence here, let alone sever a bond.”

“Ma, he’s not gone-.”

“Oh sweetheart… They never really leave us.”

(...)

“Help with what?”

“My life, what to do, where to go- everything. I… I just wanted to go home.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t allowed to… I did something wrong, I-. I don’t remember what it was, but I did something, and I wasn’t allowed back home anymore.”

(...)

“Is she going to remember any of this, Cipher?”

“If you’d talked to her mental projection while she was awake, maybe. But she’s asleep right now, only her unconscious mind will remember. While awake she might just have a feeling.”

“This twin bond, it’s a real thing?”

“Lots of things in the Dreamscape can be real - you only have to imagine it.”

“So this bond is something she made up- that she had me imagine was real?”

“Oh, no, yours is definitely real. At one point, you and your twin both believed in ‘Twinsense’ so much you manifested that connection all by yourselves. Impressive for a pair of twins who didn’t know how to manipulate the dreamscape at the time.”

“And… It's severed. Why is it severed?”

“Your mommy just told you, Fordsy. Either the other end of that connection is gone, or your brother actually managed to come into the dreamscape and cut it himself.”

“I need more data… I need to know how he did it.”

“So, you’re gonna ask him?”

“No. I need more data.”

“That’s what I expected from you, Sixer.”

(...)

“Stan?”

“...Fiddleford?”

“Do you feel yourself coming back?”

“Yeah…”

“Ms. Ramirez left a few minutes ago. Do you remember any of that?”

“Most of it I think?”

“Stan… do you remember saying that you were kicked out of your home?”

“Yeah… I kinda always felt like that was it but I couldn’t put the memories into place. I’ve been sabotaging myself since I was just a snot nosed punk after all.”

“Stan, it doesn’t matter what you did, you were only seventeen, you were still a kid. For Heavens sake, one of your first instincts was to try to call your mama.”

“S’not like we can do anything about it now. And I don’t even remember my mom.”

(...)

“Conference! Conference now!”

“I’m not in the mood for a meeting right now, Fiddleford…”

*Fiddleford drags him to the office anyways and locks the door*

“Fine. What information did you gain from the hypnotherapy session? Any useful data?”

“Stanford?”

“...Yes?”

“Look at me.”

SLAP

“What the-! Fiddleford!”

“You have some nerve, Dr. Stanford Pines. Nerve, and a thumpin’ gizzard for a heart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why did you lie?”

“Lie about what?!”

“You told me that your twin brother Stanley left home when he had a following out with you over your science fair project. But he remembers being thrown out.”

“...”

“So, it’s true.”

“...I didn’t lie, I said he left, I didn’t say it was his choice.”

“I know darn well that we attended the same ethics class, and they made it clear early on that deliberately withholding information is the same as deceit. Now, you wanna share with the class what really happened?”

“Our father had imagined if I had been accepted into West Coast Tech I would have been wildly rich and successful. When we found out Stanley sabotaged my project, he kicked him out of the household and told him to not come home unless if he brought back millions.”

“That is… Awful.”

“I know it is.”

“Then why lie about it?”

“...”

“Stanford. Be honest with me. Or at least be honest to yourself right now.”

“Because I feel guilty about it. Back then- back then I felt justified, I was so upset I thought he deserved it. But then we got older, and the more I thought about it, I realized… it was wrong. I thought-...”

“Thought what?”

“I thought maybe he was always going to strike out on his own, as some act of defiance against- I don’t know, our father? Me? The IRS? Something.”

“You thought you could alleviate your own feelings of guilt by convincing yourself that he wanted what happened? Stanford, he was seventeen.”

“So was I.”

“It isn’t your fault your father kicked him out, you were just a minor yourself. What is your fault is that you saw your brother was an amnesiac and still changed the narrative to fit your own comfort zone. You cannot ask someone to trust you, and not have the common decency to be honest. You’ve been so overprotective, and yet still keep him at arm's length.”

“I am not over protective.”

“Horse feathers! You’ve been over compensating like hell this whole time. He’d still be in the containment cell if he didn’t break out of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if you implanted a tracking chip somewhere on him.”

“I did not chip him! Every time I tried they just short out for some reason.”

“... What?”

“What is it you want from me, Fiddleford?”

“For you to see that Stan isn’t stupid. You think he doesn’t realize what you’ve told him isn’t properly aligning to what he’s starting to remember? What are you going to do if he confronts you?”

“...I don’t know.”

“Some brother you are. You should talk to him before one of you has a breakdown, it’s for your own good.”

“Wow. It is quite annoying to be on the receiving end of that phrase.”

To be continued…

[quintessenceofdust88]

Nonna Rosa fixes it

Okayyy, it's officially not the weekend anymore, but only for like five minutes, so technically I'm on time! This got totally away from me, and I had to actually force myself to end it where I did. Nonna Rosa took the narrative from my hands and said 'I'll take it from here', and good for her. Not to be dramatic but I love her. Anyway, if any Italian-speaking people read this: I AM SO SORRY. This is all Collins dictionary or Google Translate, I don't speak a word of Italian and I'll be very glad to correct any mistakes you might notice ♥ I hope you guys enjoy it! if you want to know more about Nonna Rosa, send me an ask, I have looots of headcanons for her (and Tommy's childhood). Here you go:

A week after breaking up with Evan, Tommy is still feeling like shit. He can barely sleep, anything he tries to eat tastes like sawdust, and he feels like he’s living on autopilot. He goes to work, he comes back home, he tries to eat, he tries to sleep, rinse and repeat. Nothing else matters, there’s nothing else he feels like doing. He doesn’t answer Howie’s texts asking how he’s doing (he answered the first one, telling Howie not to worry about him, but can’t do more than that); he completely ignores Eddie’s invitation for Muay Thai and basketball, and he comes up with an excuse as to why he can’t make karaoke bar that Thursday. And yet, there’s one thing he can’t put off, as much as he wishes to: talking to his Nonna. 

Tommy calls his grandmother at least once a week; she still lives in Indiana, in the same house he spent most of his childhood in, and he knows his uncle Bart visits often. But he likes to hear from her himself. Visiting her was a rare occasion, and the last time he was able to was about four months ago. The minute he had stepped in, Nonna had asked him if he was ‘innamorato’, because he was looking so much happier than usual.

And he knows she’ll perceive his sadness just as quick, if not quicker. The woman has always been able to read him like an open book. She’s probably the only person alive who can; he’s always made sure to keep his layers hidden from everyone else, even from… 

Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? 

Fact is, that if he misses his call with Nonna, it’ll be even worse. She’ll know something’s up, and he doesn’t put past her to fly across the country to check on him (he’s always been the favorite grandson and everyone knows it). So it’s best to get it over with. With a heavy sigh, he sits down on his couch (and tries not to think about how empty it feels when it’s just him in there) and rings her up, bracing himself.

“Pronto? Tommasino?” She answers the call, as always with the camera too close to her face, and that at least brings a smile to his face.

“Nonna, you need to stretch your arm a little. Remember, like Charlie showed you?” He asks with a chuckle; Charlie being his cousin’s daughter, Charlotte, who taught Nonna how to FaceTime so she could ‘see Tommasino’s pretty face more often’, in her own words. 

She stretches her arm and Tommy gets a good look at her. Nonna looks the same as always, sharp blue eyes in a soft face that’s wrinkled both from age and from a lifetime of smiles. Her hair is wrapped in hair rollers and tucked safely behind a red bandana. Tommy misses her fiercely, and wishes more than ever that he could get wrapped in one of her hugs. 

They always did wonders for him when he was a little boy who used to climb trees and get scrapes and bruises; when he was a scared eleven-year-old missing his mother (and as a grown-up he can appreciate Nonna was hurting at least as much as him, having lost her daughter, but still never let it show) and dealing with an angry abusive father; when he was a scared eighteen-year-old, before leaving the only home he’d ever known to join the Army. And when he was a scared 33-year-old man, coming out as gay to his 75 year-old-grandmother, afraid of being rejected by the one person alive who truly loved him, and Nonna had stood on her tiptoes, pulled him into one of those hugs, and told him all she ever wanted for Tommy was to see him happy, and that she would always love him. 

A hug from his grandmother had always made Tommy feel like the world was an easier place to be faced, and right now, that’s exactly what he needs. And his longing must show in his face, because she’s frowning at him, her eyes full of concern. 

“Oh, Tommasino” She says softly. “What’s wrong, bambino mio? You look so sad” She asks, and to Tommy’s horror, he finds his eyes filling up. Nonna has that way of bringing out every emotion he tries to repress.

“Everything’s wrong, Nonna, and it’s all my fault” He blurts out before he can stop himself, and the look on his grandmother’s face tells Tommy she’d be placing a sizable plate of cake and a cup of strong coffee in front of him if she could.

“You have a habit of saying things are your fault even when they aren't, so I'm afraid I'll need the entire story, my boy” She says gently, and Tommy watches as she sits down by her kitchen table (the same kitchen table where he did most of his school homework, the same kitchen table from where he always used to steal a biscotti while they were still warm), supporting her face in her hand and turning those sharp blue eyes at the phone screen. Tommy swears he can feel them pierce through his very soul. “What happened? Is it your Evanino?”

The question sends a knife right through Tommy's chest as he imagines what could have been. Gosh, Nonna would have loved Evan (who doesn't love Evan, you idiot?, he tells himself), and he knows deep in his heart Evan would have loved her as well. Every time Tommy would talk about her (which he did fairly often; he was a grandma's boy and had no shame about it), Evan would get a wistful expression on his face and tell Tommy that she sounded awesome.

He had been planning on taking Evan with him next time he managed to visit her, not wanting to introduce them through the phone. Now it's for the best he didn't; at least Nonna won't have to miss him like Tommy does.

“He… he's not mine anymore, Nonna,” He admits, his voice thick with emotion. “We broke up”

“What?! Ma comme?! You were so happy last time we talked!” She asked, and of course Tommy was happy; it was the day before their six month anniversary, and he had been so full of excitement. “Was he not happy? Is that why you're blaming yourself, Tomasino?”

A smile as bright as sunshine crosses Tommy's mind. A smile that only started to fade once Tommy told him he knew how it ended. A smile that had become his personal beacon of light in the past six months. A smile he misses like a lost limb.

“He… he was happy” He says, because that much he knows to be true; Evan was happy with him, Tommy made sure of that. His grandmother frowns at that, and Tommy doesn't blame her; the story seems convoluted, feels convoluted, even to himself, and he lived it.

“Thomas, you have to help your old grandmother, because I cannot understand what is the problem. If you were happy and he was happy, then why are you not together anymore?”

“Because he asked me to move in with him” Tommy says, and that doesn't seem to clear the situation for her. If anything, her frown deepens, and she reaches for a piece of bread, fiddling with it; Nonna could never keep her hands still, especially when she was nervous, and Tommy had inherited that from her. 

“Does that mean something different when it’s two men?” She asks, completely genuine, and that earns a surprised chuckle from Tommy. 

“No, Nonna” Tommy says, and all of a sudden the urge to laugh is gone again; it never lasts long, not after Evan. “It… It means the same”

“Very well, and you said no? That’s why he ended things?” She asks, and Tommy sighs brokenly, the memories of the night no less painful than when it happened.

“No. I… I broke up with him, Nonna. He asked me to move in with him, and I didn’t just say no. I… I broke up with him," Tommy admits with a heavy heart. 

“Tesoro, you do realize you are not making any sense? You and your boy were happy; he asked you to move in with him, and instead you broke up with him. Then you show up looking like your heart was broken and tell me it is your fault. What am I missing, bambino?”

“I have a house, Nonna!” He snaps, finally being able to voice the things that have been stewing in his heart and mind since that night. “I have a house, and he lives in a rented loft, and it makes no sense for me to move in with him!”

Nonna doesn’t answer right away. She chews thoughtfully on her bread, letting a small silence fall between the pair of them before she eventually sighs and answers him.

“Benne, you have a point, it wouldn’t make sense. But that isn’t the whole problem, is it, Tommasino?” Nonna adds shrewdly. “You could have talked it out, explained that to him. So what made you walk out of the best thing that happened to you in years?”

Tommy can always trust Nonna to lay things down exactly as they are, no matter how painful it sounds. She’s right, he did walk out of the best thing that happened to him in years, maybe ever, and it’s getting harder and harder to justify that decision to himself. 

“N-Nonna, I was… I was falling so in love with him” He tells her, and feels tears starting to prickle the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve known that since last time you were here” Nonna says impatiently. “That’s not a reason to leave, Thomas; that’s a reason to stay”

“Only if he loved me back” He says automatically, and Nonna crosses her arms, unimpressed. 

“And who says he doesn’t? Did you ask him?” She asks sharply, and Tommy sighs. This conversation is taking a completely different route than what he expected. 

“I didn’t have to, Nonna. I… I just know it, okay? I was his first relationship with a man. I cannot be the last, that’s not how it works. And I… I thought I was okay with it, that I could enjoy it while it lasted, but… But I didn’t expect to love him this much” He admits, as much to himself as to her. It’s all his fault, really, for falling so deeply, flying too close to the Sun. “I-it’s safer to break my own heart now than to let him do it when I’m way too deep to recover. N-not that I’m recovering all too well, but… could be worse” He finishes, already wiping the few tears that inconveniently decided to rush down his cheeks. 

If Tommy expects his grandmother to nod sympathetically at that and coo at him (he kinda does; she has a habit of doing that when he cries), he has another thing coming. Nonna scoffs loudly, hitting the table with her hand, strong from decades of kneading bread. The noise is enough to startle Tommy out of tears.

“Thomas Domenico Kinard, I didn’t know me and your dear Mamma, may God have her soul, had raised an estupido vigliacco!” She exclaims, her hand flailing loudly to emphasize her words. 

Tommy will be the first to admit his Italian is rusty, but he’s pretty sure she just called him a stupid coward. And. Ouch.

“Nonna!” He exclaims back, but she isn’t dissuaded. She tuts him with a sharp ‘Silenzio!’ and a raised finger, and Tommy shuts up right away. He knows that when Nonna starts, the best he can do is take the scolding, so he leans back on his couch, trying his best not to look like a chided boy who got caught stealing fruit from the neighbor’s orchard.

“You are my grandson, and I love you more than anything in this world. You are a good man with a wonderful heart, but you have one big problem, Tommaso. You always assume you know people’s feelings better than they do, and then you make your own decisions based on that without actually asking anyone. Remember when you decided I should move to California because you thought I was lonely here?” She asks, raising an eyebrow, and Tommy nods sheepishly. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“That if and when you wanted to move to California, you would let me know, but you were perfectly capable of making your own decisions” He mumbles back, the epic scolding from five years ago still fresh on his mind. 

“Esattamente. Now, I think your Evanino deserves the same courtesy. He is not a silly child, Thomas. If he wants you to be his last, if he loves you, who do you think you are to decide that he doesn’t?”

“But he never said he did,” Tommy replies stubbornly. “He… He never even told me he loved me, he just asked me to move in with him. It’s like… It’s like he wanted to prove a point, Nonna. That he could be… committed, or queer, or whatever, I don’t know. But he never said he loved me”

“Did you say it to him?” Nonna asks, and Tommy stares at her with his mouth agape. Damn this woman and her ability to ask the most uncomfortable questions. 

“N-no” He admits. “I… I was too afraid of him not saying it back”

“Hmmm” Nonna hums thoughtfully. “That’s your other problem, bambino mio. You think you don’t deserve to be loved. I blame that man for that” Nonna says with a scoff, and they both know exactly who she’s talking about; there’s no lost love between Rosa Lucciola and her ex-son-in-law, Brian Kinard, and the way he treated Tommy and his mother before she passed is the sole reason for it. 

“Well, that’s neither here nor there, Nonna” He says with a shrug, always uncomfortable when his father becomes even a small topic of conversation, but she tuts disapprovingly.

“Ah, isn’t it? Has it never occurred to you that maybe your Evanino could have the same problem? That he was as afraid as you to show his heart and have it broken?”

Tommy desperately wants to say that he thought about it, that it occurred to him; but it hasn’t. Evan is such a sunshine of a man, always so prone to smiles and loving gestures towards anyone he cares about, that Tommy never thought there could be insecurities there. Now it makes him feel selfish and stupid (or estupido as Nonna had so accurately called him). 

“Nonna…” Tommy says, his mind catching up to everything she said and a horrifying realization dawns on him. “What if he did love me back? Oh my God, did I fuck this up?!” He asks before he can stop himself. 

“Language! Do not take the Signore’s name and swear in the same sentence!” She chides him, and Tommy mutters ‘sorry’, but her look is impossibly fond. “But, well. Maybe you did; maybe you didn’t. Are you going to sit around and mope or try to find out?” Nonna challenges him. 

“W-what if he never loved me, Nonna? Or what if he did, but me walking out made him stop?” Tommy asks, not knowing which possibility scares him the most.

“What if he still does, Thomas?” Nonna counteracts. “What if he loves you and is too afraid to reach out because you already rejected him once, hm? Someone has to be brave, and he already was when he asked you to move in, bambino. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but his heart was in the right place; it was in your future together”

Tommy realizes Nonna is right. He can’t expect Evan to reach out (he realizes he was at some level, and he would have rushed to it; one call from Evan and Tommy would be right back to his life, ready to reheal his own heart when things inevitably went wrong, just for another glimpse of Evan Buckley’s personal sunshine); it’s his turn to fight for them. It’s his turn to be brave. 

“Ah, you finally realized it, hm?” Nonna says; something must be showing on his face, because there’s a satisfied smile on her face. “Fight for that boy, Thomas. Fight for your happiness, tesoro. Prove to your Nonna you are not estupido”

“Nonna, you are most definitely the best person on the planet, and I promise you didn’t raise a estupido. I’ll do right by Evan. By… By me. By both of us” Tommy promises to her, promises to himself. He blows a kiss to the screen of his cellphone, desperately wishing he could kiss her cheek in person. “Ti amo, Nonnina” (I love you, granny) 

“Ti amo, nipotini del mio cuore” (I love you, grandson of my heart) She tells him back, and a mischievous smirk appears on her face. “You better bring that boy here to try my rondelli before the year is over, you hear?”

“Dio, I hope so, Nonna” He tells her, and they say their goodbyes before hanging up. Tommy already misses her.

He holds his cellphone close to his heart, wondering if he should text Evan, but decides against it. This is too big for a text, too big for a call. He’ll go over in the morning, probably with a bouquet of flowers or whatever other extravagant gift he can come up with, ready to grovel and explain himself and beg for a second chance, even if it’s only to hear a ‘no’. Even if it’s only to let Evan yell at him and get the closure he deserves. Even if it’s only to get his already shattered heart broken into even more pieces. Tommy has to be brave.

After all, nonna and mamma didn’t raise a coward. 

(Evan doesn’t say no. And when Tommy explains, after several rounds of make-up sex, what made him change his mind, he promises to send Nonna a present. The present ends up being him and Tommy, because they go to Indiana for Christmas, and Evan falls in love with Nonna and her rondelli. Just like Tommy knew he would)

-- Tag list (let me know if I missed anyone! also if you want to be removed or only tagged in Little Blobs' Verse):

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie (Although here's a lil spoiler - Nonna Rosa will probably show up in Little Blobs' verse cause I'm not ready to let go of her and she'd whack me in the head with a spoon if I didn't let her meet her great-grandchildren)

[channieskies]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖁: 𝕭𝖑𝖚𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Jeong(Jung) Jaehyun x Reader (Fem/AFAB/Curvy/Plus sized)

Genre: Smut (eventual), Angst, Supernatural Romance, Urban Fantasy

AU: Supernatural AU, Vampire Au, Werewolf AU, Witch AU

Word count: 7061 [Reading time: 30 mins]

Networks: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society

Synopsis: You spend the day finding out about the mysterious and handsome Dr. Jay.

He washed and split sausages, putting them in a searing hot pan. “I was dying. I’d been shot center mass while  trying to protect another soldier. He had a family, his wife had just had a baby girl, he had a young son who had just started talking. I wanted him to be able to see them again, to live a long life with the ones he loved. Even if that meant I didn’t get to do the same. As I laid there, bleeding out, the sky turning from light to dusk, I noticed a man going from body to body. He hovered over each one, checking to see if they were still in the realm of the living or not. By the time he got to my body, the light was starting to fade from my eyes. I was only a few breaths away from death.” 

CHAPTER INDEX

A.N: Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @palindrome969 and @therhythmafterthesummer for reading over this for me. I could never thank you enough. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids or NCT. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.

The roaring sound of his laughter filled the room. His head was tilted back like this was the funniest situation he’d ever been in. You would have joined in, if his laughter wasn’t at your expense. “You- you should have seen your face.” He lifted his glasses, his eyes back to their normal warm brown color, and wiped his tears. “I’m not that kind of vampire, trust me. I’m heavy on consent, so I wouldn’t do that unless you asked that of me or volunteered to be my cute little blood bank.” His lips curled into another smile as your face twisted into mortification. What the hell was his problem? “It’s a joke.” He laughed, reaching his hand out to help you up. “We are going to have to work on your sense of humor.” He took your hand in his, pulling you up and out of your seat. “I got you something to wear out, so you don’t have to do the walk of shame back home.” 

He shook a finger at you, “Out all night with a strange man and coming back home in the same clothes?” He tsked, “Naughty girl.” He smirked at his own joke, though you found no amusement in it. “I asked your mom what products you liked last night, so while you were supposed to be sleeping, I did a little shopping. Everything you need is in the guest bathroom for you.” He led you to the door and pointed you in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll come get you in about thirty minutes. That should be sufficient time, right?” His brows knit together in thought, “It’s been a while since a woman has stayed over. Ella usually protests and will put up quite a fight.” He looked over at the cat who was casually grooming herself. “But she likes you, so you got to stay.” He had a strange habit of putting his foot in his mouth. You guessed that was the trade off for having a face like that, he was more than a little goofy. You smiled awkwardly at him and turned to leave, making your way to the bathroom as quickly as possible without looking like you were running from him. You were totally running from him.

It didn’t take you long to get washed up. When he said he got all the essentials you needed and liked, he meant that. From your favorite body wash, down to your favorite lip balm and mouthwash. Full-sized bottles of it at that. You understood he was rich, but forty dollars for a bottle of shower gel was insane no matter which way you sliced it. But you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. That means it would be forty dollars less you'd have to spend. It also meant you wouldn’t have to buy a cheap dime store knock off that subsequently breaks you out, meaning you'd learn the hard lesson of you get what you pay for. All and all he saved you a trip to the doctors for an allergic reaction to some shit product  with ingredients you probably couldn't pronounce and the price of one very expensive cypress oil and black currant body wash, among some other not so pricey items. But, Dr Jay was a strange man. Or vampire, whatever he was. He talked extremely slow, like someone who was actively thinking before the words ever left his lips. His jokes- although they might be funny to you any other time- were crude and weird considering he really didn’t know you that well. His life seemed sheltered as well. From your point of view, he didn’t seem like someone who had a lot of friends. How could he be when people would inevitably grow old and die while he drank from the spring of eternal youth. 

Your thoughts were plagued by the thought of the vampire whose home you were currently occupying. You couldn’t help but have a little curiosity towards the odd man. Your mind was so caught up in thoughts of the strange doctor you nearly lost track of time. Once you felt refreshed and changed into the clothes he had gotten you, you checked over your appearance in the foggy mirror. Bags. You had enough baggage under your eyes to fill an airport baggage carousel. You hoped that maybe the mix between the expensive shower head and shower gel melted away all of the burdens that had piled up on your shoulders over the last twelve hours. Because you genuinely felt lighter, freer. Even if your face showed no indication. You stepped into the hallway, just to be greeted by Dr. Jay leaning against the banister, in a fresh change of clothes. It truly should have been unfair for anyone to look like that, especially without effort.

“You must be the opposite of your mother, you’re early.” You chuckled at that. Your mother was always late, notoriously so. “Come, I’ll make you breakfast.” You had so many questions. So many that your mind was asking them all at the same time, while simultaneously forgetting most of your other executive functions. You stood there, like a bump on a log, unmoving. He was still animatedly chatting to himself, while walking down the winding staircase. He stopped when he got to the second landing, turning around to stare at you. “I promise, I do not eat people. It’s normal human food.” Socks made her way towards the stairs at the promise of food, so you followed. “Looks like we have a taker.” He clapped his hands together and headed down the stairs towards his kitchen. “Anything in particular you like or don’t like?” He led you down a long dark hallway, only tiny specs of light poked through the blackout curtains.

“I’m not picky.” You sort of mumbled, your mind still too preoccupied with figuring out exactly what was going on here. Dr. Jay was seen out and about in daylight and he wasn’t burning up and turning into a pile of ash in the children's playroom. There was a big skylight in the middle of the room and he wasn’t sparkling like one of those teen movie vampires either. What if he wasn’t a vampire and something entirely different all together? But why would he lie? There were demons, known to be tricksters and liars. Dhampirs were half human, that would explain him being able to walk in the daylight. God forbid he be an incubus, and all of this was a ploy to get you to sleep with him. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts you didn’t see him stop and collided into his back. 

“If you have something to ask, you should ask it. It’s rude to assume.” He said with his back turned to you. “I’ll let you know that I’m a very open book.” He finally turned around to face you. This was the first time all morning that there was no amusement in his eyes. “So, what do you want to know?” He folded his arms over his chest. For an open book, his stance was very closed off, but you ignored that.

“What are you exactly?” Your eyes focused on his face, hoping you’d be able to read it.

“Vampire. A fairly young one.”

“How young?”

He tilted his head in thought. He was counting. “To be exact? Four-hundred and fifty-four. My birth was well documented, that's how I can keep up with the exact year. But it’s not in the history books like it should have been.”

Your brows furrowed. “History books?” He nodded, his face still emotionless. “Then… who are you?” The corner of his lips curled into an unamused smirk.

“I told you yesterday. I’m Jaehyun. But since you insist on calling me Dr. Jay outside of the hospital, we’ll go with that.” He shrugged it off as if that was what you meant when you asked him that. You knew his name, like he said, he told you that yesterday. But a well documented birth from over four hundred years ago meant that he had to be important or at least born to someone important. “You should eat. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten anything.” Turning on his heels, he headed deeper into the kitchen, you followed behind him.

“What happened to being an open book?” You sat at the island, elbows on the countertop as you leaned your chin on your folded palms.

He washed his hand and proceeded to pull out food and pans to cook for you. “I’m going to tell you. Be patient.” He chuckled. Once he was situated on the other side of the island with his bowl and eggs, he started. “I was born February 14th 1567 in Korea, to a prince and a royal concubine. I was their only child together.” You didn’t know why, but a prince made so much damn sense. His face alone screamed royalty. It would also explain his incredibly soft hands. A prince would never have to work a hard job a day in their life. It all adds up. 

“My maternal grandfather was the highly respected right state councilor during the time. Even though my father was an adopted prince, my grandfather thought that he would have a high chance of becoming king since the king's biological son died at a very young age. The king himself was in a coma after falling ill, so the queen dowager handled the political offers alongside her councilors. The queen despised my grandfather and by extension my mother. She felt that he was trying his best to find a way to rule from the sidelines. Truthfully, she forbade marriage between my mother and the prince. But the prince had already laid with my mother, even though they were never supposed to be alone, especially not long enough for something like that to happen. I was the first child born to him and the only one born to my mother. The royal court thought it best to keep me off of the books. I guess you never knew when you might need an illegitimate heir to the throne, right?” He chuckled breathlessly, mixing the eggs he broke in the bowl. 

“Plus, they were young and unmarried, it didn’t look good in the eyes of the council or in the court of public opinion. So, I was raised far away from the palace in one of the homes my grandfather owned. I lived a very normal life as a noble child, had the best education, and plenty of friends. But I longed for more. There had to be more to life than just being special because money or status said you were. By the time I finished my schooling at Sungkyunkwan, instead of being a scholar or becoming a junior councilman, I chose a different path for myself.” He chopped onions and mixed them with the eggs along with other ingredients. “I decided I wanted to fight. I wanted to protect my country, my people, mainly my mother, especially from people like my father. He was abusive, as were most Confucian scholars. To them it was totally suitable to beat your wife when she was misbehaving. But she wasn’t his wife and my mother was the purest soul that I’ve ever met, so misbehaving was not in her nature. Even after he married, he still would frequent our home, using her however he pleased, beating her whenever she didn’t fulfill his needs. Never giving the life he promised her, but always leaving with the promise of moving her into the palace, ‘soon’. Promising to make her the main royal concubine.” He scoffed, turned his back to you as he put the eggs in the hot earthenware bowl to cook.

“Your father sounds like a tool. Your mother deserved better. But maybe that's why you were born as her son. You were a gift from the universe, an apology for the mistake your father made. You seem like you cared about her a lot and that probably meant a lot to her.” He shrugged off your statement. “So, let me make sure I’m following along.. essentially, you are a prince, with no real claim to the throne. A spare male heir.”

“By blood, yes. By title, no. I was just someone's illegitimate child.  According to the townsfolk, I was some married man’s child. It wasn’t far from the truth, my father was in fact married. But the circumstances that they conjured up about my birth couldn’t have been further from the truth. They called my mother horrible things, shunned her into a life of isolation. It nearly drove her crazy.” He shook his head, he had moved on to washing rice, his back was towards you as he faced the sink in front of the window. Even the views from his kitchen were obstructed. Dark window dressings seemed to be covering every single speck of light that might even think of getting in.

“It nearly killed her when I told her my plans of joining the army. She told me that I was throwing my life and education away for no reason. I could see how she could feel that way. Years of her sacrificing her sanity so that I could make something of myself, just for me to throw it away and join the army. But I told her all of my reasons. That me needing to be able to protect her, was the biggest of them all. She didn’t understand and I couldn’t convince her to either. So, I joined against her wishes. I snuck off to the capital in the middle of the night, leaving only a note behind. My grandfather was the only person who knew my whereabouts. Unlike my mother he thought that this could be a good thing. He still has wishes for me to be king one day. So he made sure I made my way through the ranks quickly. I was promoted over and over,  eventually I was given a team…” 

He paused, taking rice and putting it in his rice cooker. “My early twenties were spent moving through the ranks of the central army. Though my training took place in the capital, I wished to be as far away from my father as possible. I took on different roles in different cities to stay as far away from him and his prying eyes as possible.  By that time I was twenty-five. I didn’t think…” He sighed, “I didn’t think my life in the army would end so tragically. Where I was stationed was ambushed. We were the second defense against the Japanese when they attacked, the first was the navy. They did the best they could to fight them off, they really did. All we could do was watch from the shore and wait for them to attack us.” He sighed, closing the top down on the rice cooker and setting the timer. “Just the sheer size of their army, and the weapons they were given from Europe, nearly decimated us. The ones of us they didn’t kill, they took back to Japan on turtle ships.” 

He washed and split sausages, putting them in a searing hot pan. “I was dying. I’d been shot center mass while  trying to protect another soldier. He had a family, his wife had just had a baby girl, he had a young son who had just started talking. I wanted him to be able to see them again, to live a long life with the ones he loved. Even if that meant I didn’t get to do the same. As I laid there, bleeding out, the sky turning from light to dusk, I noticed a man going from body to body. He hovered over each one, checking to see if they were still in the realm of the living or not. By the time he got to my body, the light was starting to fade from my eyes. I was only a few breaths away from death.” 

You were engrossed, listening to every word he said while waiting for your food. “He stood over me, I lifted a shaking hand to try and protect myself from whatever attack he wanted to unleash on me. He spoke, but it was Japanese and I didn’t understand that at the time. He told me to rest, that he would handle it from there.” He huffed, shaking his head. “I guess he meant what he said, My eyes slipped closed just as he knelt next to me. I couldn’t fight back even if I wanted to. That day changed the trajectory of my life. Or maybe that was how it was always supposed to go. If I had known that arguing with my mother would be the last conversation I would have with her, I would have done things differently. Maybe I would have pleaded with her to be a bit more understanding of my reasons. Maybe, I even would tell her that I loved her to her face instead of in ink on a piece of paper” He placed the cooked sausage on a small plate under a plastic cover to stay warm while he waited for your rice. You were so deeply engrossed in his storytelling that you hadn’t even noticed how fast time flew by . He turned his back to the counter, leaning against it. 

“I woke up seven days later, wishing he would have just let me die. I was in agony, it felt like my veins were on fire. Like I was melting from the inside out. I couldn’t even recognize myself. I don’t mean that in the visual sense, either. I didn’t feel like myself nor did I sound like myself. I felt like I had become a different person entirely.” He moved the steamed eggs off the stove to make sure they did not overcook. “The first few months of me being a vampire were the hardest. He, his name was Yuta, had taken me back to Japan with him, taught me the language, and helped me learn about the culture all while I was struggling to keep my darkest urges in check. Yuta was once a samurai who killed the head of the head of a household in battle. The wife and daughter of the man wanted to exact their revenge. They felt it wasn’t fair that Yuta lived while their beloved husband and father was slain. So, they called  on their gods to help drain him of all his blood, but keep him alive so that he could witness all that he loved fade to dust. It was their dying wish as they killed themselves to be with him.” 

You knew a little something about last wish curses. You were currently dealing with one yourself. “He hadn’t realized he had the power to turn people into whatever he was until his last living relative had died. But given the fact that this was meant to be a curse, I doubt he would have been able to save his loved ones even if he tried. Sadly, I think it took him losing everything for him to start saving people. He tried his best to keep me from letting my hunger consume me. Letting the fear of never seeing my mother again and the anger I felt from death swallow me whole. It was while we were living in some rural town on Kyushu Island in the Miyazaki Prefecture. He wanted to stay far away from the memories of his loved ones and I needed to be as far away from humans as possible. But it didn’t matter how far I ran from the urges, they were always there waiting for me. Those first few months I did things to satiate my insatiable hunger that I still can’t.. Get over or let go.” The rice cooker's loud chime nearly made you jump, you had blocked out everything else but him. Listening to his life story so intently even the smallest outside noise would have sent you flying off your chair.

He chuckled at your reaction and placed a paddle full of rice in your bowl before sliding it to you. With an oven mitt, he placed the earthenware bowl of eggs down in front of you and uncovered your sausages. “Juice?” You nodded, eyes shimmering over the delicious smell of food permeating into your nostrils. He poured some orange juice into a mug and sat it right next to all of your food.  Breakfast was served. 

“It took someone making me realize what damage I had done to break me out of the tragic cycle I had created. I was killing innocent people, uncaring of their circumstances, if they had a family at home. If they were good people or not. And that wasn’t like me. I died trying to protect someone, but I had thrown away all my morals when I turned. One night, while I was out hunting, I ran across a woman. Not an ordinary woman. She was beautiful, and had an alluring aura that pulled me in immediately. I lured her away from the crowded area I found her in and as I went to bite her, she looked me in the eyes, telling me she wanted to look her killer in the eye as she died. That she wouldn’t move on in the afterlife, until she got her revenge. It snapped me out of it for some reason. What had I been doing all that time, but killing people? Taking their future away from them? I had become a monster or maybe something far worse than that. I can still hear their screams. I can still hear their voices begging me to let them live. Their faces still haunt me till this day.” 

He stared blankly at the counter top as if it would reveal the answers to all of his problems, but you were sure you both knew that wouldn’t be the case. “Much like the women of your family, she was a witch. A powerful one. She helped me in more than one way that day. She asked if I wanted to atone for the things I did. If I wanted to be of service to the families and people I had hurt. She helped me track down every single person's family. I couldn’t bring their loved one back, even if I wished everyday that I could. But I gave what I could, helped how I could. But it never eased the pain in their heart or mine. I’ve been trying my hardest to atone for my sins ever since then to no avail.” A sorrowful smile spread on his lips, his eyes were pools of dark sadness that you felt like you were drowning in.

After the night you had last night, almost being eaten - and not in the good way- on the streets of New Orleans. You never thought you would be able to muster up the slightest bit of sympathy for a blood sucking demon, but here you were, feeling sad for Dr. Jay. “The kids did nothing but sing your praises yesterday. One of the girls even has an innocent crush on the handsome doctor, her words not mine. Every person I talked to yesterday sang your praises. Yes, four hundred years ago you made some mistakes, but you’ve been making amends for it since then. Even if you still have guilt for doing things that were out of your control, you have paid your debt back. You continue to do good, continue to spread positivity. It’s okay to see it that way, Dr. Jay. It’s okay to say you did and are continuing to do a good job. To be honest with you, saving kids is a lot. The fear of losing them alone would cause enough mental anguish in most people to make them reconsider being a pediatric surgeon. On that alone, your past transgressions have been wiped clean. These kids, they are the future after all. Well, maybe not so much for you… But for us humans that age, these kids are the future.” He chuckled, feeling a little bit lighter thanks to your words. “You are doing more good than a lot of people are, trust me.” He flashed his deep dimples, once again looking down at the counter as if it held the mysteries to the universe.

“Thank you. I needed that.” You gave him a smile. He certainly was an interesting man. Old man? It was a confusing concept to stay the least. He was over four-hundred years old, but still looked to be in his mid twenties. You were sure that had to cause problems for him. Never again probably meant he couldn’t stay in one place for too long. “I can’t.” Your brows knit together at his sudden outburst. Confusion written all over your face as you stared at him. “I can’t stay in one place for too long.” Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. That was the second time that morning he’d read your mind. At first you thought that maybe your pensive face gave you away, but no, this man was invading your mental space and reading your mind.

“What the fuck?! That's a violation, Dr. Jay! Don’t read my fucking mind!” He put his hands up to defend himself as you dropped your fork to your now empty plate. He was immortal, but that didn’t mean he wanted to face the wrath of a woman with so many sharp objects in arms reach.

“Wait- wait! Before you jump to conclusions, I promise I wasn’t actively trying to read your mind. It.. just happened. It’s like hearing your thoughts as my own. It’s truly hard to describe. But please don’t think of me as weird or violating your mental space… like you said.” 

“Dude!” You threw a folded dish towel at his head, your expression bordering on being fully dismayed. “Stop that!” He laughed as you jumped down from your seat and moved around the island and over to him. Your index poked at his chest, your eyes narrowed pointedly at him.

“Get.Out.Of.My.Head!” With every word came a poke and with each poke his smile widened. “This isn’t funny!” How the hell hell did he think this was funny when you were clearly distressed? So the true bloods, and Wes Craven’s of them all were right? They could read minds? Did that mean he could also control your mind? Command you to do things you had no thoughts of doing? What the heck else could he do? Your mind was reeling. How was this scarier than finding out your best friend shifted into a wolf under the moonlight?

He grabbed your hand causing you to still. Your eyes gazed up at him as wide as saucers. You wanted to pull away but felt compelled to stay put. He must have been doing this to you. “I promise, you are the only one I hear and… it's not like I hear everything. I hear you randomly. Sometimes at the end of thoughts, other times when the thought first occurs. It's been happening since yesterday.” He let your hand slip from his once he realized you were a captive audience. “I guess it's like how you can see my past. It's not every touch, but it just happens sometimes.  Yes, I know you see my past. You all but shouted what you saw in your mind as you ran away.” It just happens sometimes? That seemed like a cop out to be honest. But being that you were both in this predicament, it was best to just believe him. Especially since it seemed to be the case for the both of you. You didn’t get flashes of his past with every brush of your skin against his, as strange as that sounded. Truthfully, you were thankful for that and thankful that he spared you all of the gory details of the life he used to live as a fledgling vampire. “I think we both had a moment of shock and realization at the hospital upon our first meeting. I’d never heard anyones inner thoughts before. It was kind of exciting, seeing you panic like that though. Every time it happens, I like to watch you spiral, it amuses me greatly.”

Your eyes couldn’t have rolled at him any harder. This man was like any other man, minus Christopher on rare occasions. Just downright annoying. “I’m beginning to get the impression we may be tied together. Destined to meet in some sort of capacity. How else can we begin to explain what is happening between us besides some sort of red string phenomenon.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug as if that was a real explanation as to why he could hear you and why you could see him and his past lives so vividly, as if you were there. “I heard you last night.. that's why I was standing outside at that hour. I'm usually inside, resisting the temptation to hunt.” You absentmindedly took a step back at that. You hadn’t even realized you were so close into his personal space. You didn’t want to be his meal after he’d made yours. But once again it was like you were drawn to him, never realizing you were skirting so close to becoming a part of him with how close you'd get to his personal bubble. 

You swallowed hard, your saliva feeling as dry as dirt as it went down your throat. “Thank you.” You cleared your parched throat. “For saving me and for the meal. It was surprisingly delicious.” Again, you cleared your throat only to be met with a glass of cold water. You’d only blinked and he'd gotten for you. “Is that your power? Speed?” He only smirked, leaving your question unanswered as he tidied up the kitchen at a normal, almost sluggish speed. What was with this guy? He kept a smile on his face, but it was flat, leaving him looking like he had a bracket for a smile. “Okay then..” You nodded, turning to head out the way you’d come in the kitchen. 

You needed to get home. You were sure your mother was going to send out a search party soon, even with you being with her doctor boss or not. “I’m heading out.” You chewed on your lip as you backed towards the door slowly. “Once again, thank you for your kindness and hospitality. If you ever need- shit, I guess I have no choice now…” You sighed thinking of how your mother told you that you now carried the burden of the family curse. Which meant that no matter what, if someone came to you, you’d inevitably have to help them. “Well if you ever need a witch, a very inexperienced one, you know who to call.” You awkwardly gave him a thumbs up and went to turn on your heels and hightail it out of there. 

“I’ll give you a ride back. I did tell your mother that I would deliver you home safely, and I keep my promises.” You didn’t know when he got next to you, but there he was, standing right by your side in the hall that led to the kitchen. “Plus, you have no idea how to get out of here, even if you try to retrace your steps. It’s a bit of a maze.” He chuckled, “You see, there is a glamour on this house. One that also keeps me protected, much like the runes in my bed chamber. Your family has done a lot of good will towards me, so I'm forever in debt to them.” 

You really didn’t think much about him bringing your great-grandmother up earlier, the man was over four hundred years old, you were sure he’d met plenty of people in his lifetime. Of course that could include your great-grandmother who lived well into her hundreds. 

“Your grandmother did the glamour. Your mother, well besides taking care of Ella, she brews special potions for me to help me sleep and to build up my tolerance for sunlight. She’s a miracle worker, really. I don’t think I would survive if it wasn’t for her. Things would be a lot harder for me, that's for sure.” It was like he’d read your mind before you even got the chance to think. Him not surviving without your mother when he’s been alive for over four hundred years sounded absolutely foolish. But if that was actually what helped his old ass sleep at night, then so be it. He chuckled, your eyes shifted to his face, wondering exactly what made him laugh. “You’re funny. You know that right?” 

Why was it that this man of all people could hear your thoughts? Good thing you weren’t thinking things that were too indecent. Because how could you explain that? “I mean, if you want to think about me in indecent ways, I wouldn’t object.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you causing you to involuntarily scoff in disgust. 

“Just take me home.” You were mentally and physically tired. The last few days were enough to drain you. But the last twenty four hours was filled with enough information to take out at least two full grown men. His jokes would normally make you chuckle, they were right on brand with your off-beat sense of humor. But right now? Right now you didn’t even want to hear him talk. No matter how attractive you thought his voice was. He kept his mouth shut after that, leading you out of the house and to his covered driveway. You’d only had the pleasure of knowing  one or two gentlemen in your life. One was your father, teaching you how a man should treat a woman. Even if none of the lessons stuck for you. The other was Chris. He had been ‘raised right,’ according to your mother. But other than the two of them, you didn’t expect any chivalry from anyone, especially the men raised in this day and age. You hand reached to open the door to his car only to be gently pushed away.

“I’ve got it-” Dr. Jay shook his head at you, grabbing the handle and opening the car door for you. 

“Not with me around you don’t” You didn’t want to smile, but your lips still curled up despite your efforts to keep them neutral. He moved back so you could get it and softly closed the door after. This was almost an unfamiliar sensation. Your exes- all of them- wouldn’t know what chivalry was even if it hit them in the face. It was almost a skill how piss poor your good man finding skills were. It was almost like you were dead set on finding the worst men possible and dating them. Like you had no other options. Chris could be an option. Maybe even someone like Dr. Jay- You stopped yourself from thinking any further past that. He could hear your thoughts, you didn’t want to give him any ideas.

The trip home was silent, minus the r&b playlist that he decided to fill the dead air with. Dr. Jay had very good taste, even if most of it was understated. His house was well decorated, but not overly so. He had a luxury car, some brand you’d never seen or heard of before,  but it looked normal from the outside. The inside told another store. It was luxury in every single sense of the word. Plush seats that warmed and cooled, leather interior, and a super high tech center console. You kind of wondered how much of your body you’d have to sell to afford luxury like this in your lifetime, because there was no way you’d be able to buy something like this one minimum wage. Even his music taste was good, but very normal. Nothing about him screamed ‘I’m over four hundred years old’. Truthfully, minus being a doctor and being a bit of a gentleman, he could fit right in with the twenty-somethings you went to college with. Dr. Jay was odd, but very normal concurrently. If you were being totally honest with yourself - which given the weird way you both have had to get to know one another- you would almost say you like being around him. He wasn’t a terrible company keeper. You could see why so many people liked him, if you subtracted out the ones who were very besotted with his striking visage. But even then, you’d give them a pass, because he was gorgeous- even if you’d never ever admit that out loud again. One time was embarrassing and good enough for you.

His car came to a stop in front of your mother's house. You couldn’t shake the nervousness that started to rattle you a few blocks from home. It was a new day, but so much had happened over the last twenty-four hours, you weren’t sure if you could say you were the same person you were yesterday or the day before. “You don’t need to be worried.” He turned the car off, shifting his body towards you. “I didn’t have to read your mind to see the signs of your anxiousness.” He reached his hand out with no hesitation, taking your shaking hand in his. “Your mother is one of the kindest people I know. Vampire, human, and witch alike.” His hand was warm, despite his disposition. Your hand felt good in his. “She’s also understanding. You left home last night in need of some space, and I’m sure she understood that. She just wants to see you safe, you are her baby after all.” He mocked your mother teasingly and you chuckled. She really did say it like that. “We didn’t get your toiletries bag from the house.” He frowned a bit, realizing he had forgotten something, “It can stay there, just in case you need an escape from your witch duties. That is if you want.” You couldn’t deny spending time with Dr. Jay wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. He was an interesting character, yes, but he was also nice to be around. Comforting, almost. You nodded, eyes traveling down to your hand that was still in his grasp. He hadn’t let go, and you made no move to separate yourself from him or get out of the car. 

He tore his attention from you, a faint smile appearing on his lips. “Your mom doesn’t look like she got any sleep last night.” He chuckled, noting her very visible bags, even from the porch. “I guess you two do have a lot in common.” In mock offense, you moved your hand from his just to push him lightly. Your laughs fill the space of the car. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.” You nodded, finally feeling at ease enough to head inside. Like before, he came and opened your door, extending a hand this time to help you out. “You are welcome at my home any time, Y/n.” You smiled at him, thankful for his kindness and generosity.

“Thanks, Dr-...” You paused for a second. After the night and morning you’d had it made no sense to keep calling this man by his professional title. He was friendly enough to you that you could almost say you were friends. “Thanks, Jaehyun.” His eyes lit up as you said his name, the dimples on his cheeks deepening. It was clear you saying his name made him a little shy, even if he had no blood to rush to his dead cheeks. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me-” 

“Y/n.” Your words were cut off by the sudden interruption. You tore your eyes from your new friend to focus on the one you knew the most about. “It’s time to come into the house.” His voice was rough as he spoke to you. Eyes narrowed at something in your direction. There were few times you’d seen him upset, but for the most part Chris kept his cool. But his body was tense, there was anger flaring up in his eyes, tension in his jaw. His fists clenched as he took a step off the porch. You mother, grabbing her robe with one hand, used the other to stop Chris from going any further. “Now.”  You followed his eyes, finally understanding what had him so bothered. Jaehyun.

“He’s right. You should get inside.” The smirk that Jaehyun sported was nothing short of sinister. “Wouldn’t want your pup to get upset, now would we.” His deep chuckle sent chills up your spin. “I hope you get some rest, beautiful.” He decided to lay it on thick. He wanted to exacerbate Chris’ already heightened anger. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, eyes focused solely on Christopher. “Later.” He softly chuckled all the way back to his car. You stood there unmoving, even as he drove off and his car disappeared around the corner. You were unsure what just took place. Did they know one another? Or was there really some ongoing dispute between vampire and werewolf kind? You just found out they really existed, you didn’t know how you’d deal with Twilight being halfways true.

Your mother rushed down the stairs to you. She and Chris communicated with their eyes, unbeknownst to you. “You made me worried last night. I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep because of your shenanigans, young lady.” She comforted you, holding you tightly in her arms all while chastising you at the same time. She was such a mom. “My gosh, look at your bags.” She chuckled softly, rubbing the skin of your cheeks with her thumbs. “Looks like we both need an eight hour nap.” She grabbed your hand, pulling you along with her into the house. Your eyes settled on Chris who was still standing there on the porch, trying his best to regulate the anger that the doctor had caused him

“We’ll talk later.” You nodded, agreeing to shelf a much needed conversation for later. But you were certainly afraid of what your dear friend had to say.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER⇠☾⇢NEXT CHAPTER

© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like , comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.♥』

[apologetic-artist]

First batch of designs!!! I hope y'all like em hehe :3

(Yapping about my designs and future designs under cut hehe[LOTS OF WORDS AND STUFFS!!])

Sketch: The sweater that they're wearing under their shirt is actually one of Tony's old sweaters he grew out of. I wanted to go for a mixed match look with a lot of color while avoiding visual looks of green for obvious reasons. I think they're one of the more outgoing of the bunch, especially since I think they're one of the younger ones(like late 20's, early 30's) so I tried to fit that in their design. Definitely one of my favorites out of my designs.

Tony: Looking at my previous ref sheet of her, I'd say this is a major upgrade. Not a lot has changed about him except for some tiny things and the colors. I love this pose. Also, at the ends of her suit jacket, they look like little clock hands, I thought it was cute. With Tones, I kinda just took inspiration from everyone else drawing him with formal attire, but I think mostly everyone sees him wearing a suit or something adjacent.

Shrignold: For the information, it has a bit of question marks I should talk about real quick. The question marks on the species was just a silly little joke to reference what Yellow called them in their episode and people headcannoning Shrig as more of a moth than a butterfly, which I totally see where they're coming from because I don't know what my Shrig is anymore. As for the relationship status, nobody(not even them) are sure if they're dating or not. Sure, there's a lot of evidence, but it is still a confusing relationship. I can talk about it more when I post my Larry with its respective headcannons.

Colin: My bbg. Anyway, with his old design, he was way too lanky, and it kinda looked off. The colors were also way too dull, so I made them a little more pastel. Also, Lana is the name for Laptop, not sure if it'll change, so this is kinda a placeholder. I also added some cute patches to their overalls to reference their digital world since I wanted more representation of that part of their character in their design. I just love Colin if you couldn't tell lmao. I feel like all the new details are a major upgrade.

FUTURE DESIGN SECTION!!:

The reason why the Health gang isn't in this is because I'll make a post of all of them together in a group bc I believe they should all go together. It may take me a long time since I, to be honest, never really cared to make designs for them. The reason why I haven't yet is because GOOD LORD they are kinda hard to translate to my style, specifically Steak and Fridge. I'll figure it out eventually.

The same goes for the love cult. Trust me, I wanna draw them so bad(might get to them before the Healthy Gang). All I'm saying is that that bunny is coming first he's literally my favorite. I love that blue bunny boy so much.

Larry might also need to go into his own post. There is so much, and that's all I'm really saying so far.

Listen, I'll only draw the machine teachers if i wanna, there are too many.

The TV teachers will obviously get designs, no doubt.

Also, have a scrapped outfit for Shrignold! I decided this should just be just for when it's in the cult :]

That's about it!! Thanks for reading my ramble. Have a good night/day/afternoon/whatever time of day it is!! :D

[riddlerosehearts]

last night had me freaking out over knowing leona's dream was out and that i'd have to wait for translations of it (i actually try to avoid spoilers as much as possible until i can read the update, so i don't even know what happened in his dream but i've heard some things about it that make me both excited and scared), and then freaking out over how cute rook's birthday groovy is and how the box is a reference to the evil queen's box in snow white, and then freaking out over cater when i didn't expect to be doing that at ALL because i thought we'd have to wait until at least january to hear anything about the heartslabyul update! i slept at very weird hours but i did eventually sleep lol.

i'm glad i posted my prediction for who would get the card before we suddenly found out last night that it was cater... my first guess was actually trey because of his closeness to riddle, with cater being my second guess, but now i'm glad that it's him who gets it! i think he needs a serious dream that really adds to his character and not just something quick and silly, and i also think his dynamic with riddle is super underrated. cater clearly does care a lot about riddle and i'm sure he actually won't just leave him out of his dream. also i agree on being sad that these cards don't get vignettes... i guess the logic is that these are based on what's going on in the story, so they don't need a vignette, but i don't really like that there are cards without vignettes in general.

i assumed that riddle's card suit would be a heart but oooh it'd also be interesting if it was a diamond!! if we don't get to find out in this coming update then i really hope we do eventually. and, in ruggie's dream it got confirmed that NRC students have to pay for lunch out of pocket and (iirc, i didn't take screenshots/write this part down) get the uniform for free at first but if you damage it then you have to pay out of pocket for a new one. which already makes things harder for anyone whose family isn't well-off, and then they're always losing to RSA in every competition, and most of the dorm leaders are varying degrees of bad at their job plus all seven of them have overblotted in a single school year now... so yeah i don't blame any of the characters for not wanting to be at NRC but i do find it incredibly funny at the same time ASKJGFDF.

if riddle ends up just getting written out of cater's dream world and not appearing as a result of cater being the dorm leader then i'll be literally so sad not just because i want to learn as much about riddle and cater's dynamic as possible, but also. imagine seeing first year riddle with his card suit mark on his cheek 🥺

[violaflou]

Учитель

Оригинальный Шень Цинцю/Ло Бинхэ. Вероятно, ау, в которой их отношения были лучше. Просто обрывок, найденный среди заметок.

Шень Цинцю не был плохим учителем. Слишком строгим, придирчивым, а порой даже несправедливым – верно, но не злым. И не важно, что говорили за его спиной главы других пиков. В минуты дурного настроя он мог совершенно непредсказуем. Например, взбелениться из-за неправильно заваренного чая, наказать, причем доверить исполнение не кому-нибудь, а первому ученику, чересчур старательному от свалившейся на него чести. И тут же самому прийти к Бинхэ, чтобы нанести исцеляющее снадобье на горящие от ударов плетей раны. Непредсказуемый. Жестокий и милосердный. Прекрасный. Ло Бинхэ им восхищался. Ло Бинхэ его ненавидел. Но возмущение прошло после первого же спарринга с учителем, когда мальчишку просто избивали, как нашкодившего щенка, а тот яростно огрызался, пока от злости у него не получился прием, не дававшийся очень долго. А учитель только усмехнулся так, будто подобного и ожидал. И тогда Ло Бинхэ понял, что Шэнь Цинцю добр в своей жестокости. Его приручали, словно дикого пса. Но Ло Бинхэ это нравилось. А больше всего он любил, когда учитель трепал его по голове. И правда, почти как собаку. Единственный и самый желанный жест одобрения. Шень Цинцю каждый раз сетовал, что Ло Бинхэ совсем не следит за своими волосами, носит на голове простой хвост вместо подобающей ученику пика Цанцюн прически. Даже показывал, как правильно. Вот только Ло Бинхэ на следующий же день забывал. Да и какой смысл укладывать волосы волосок к волоску, если тогда учитель не сможет вот так зарыться в них пальцами, слегка подергивая и заправляя особо возмутительные пряди?

[itachanta]

"Don't cry, Meryl".

One of my favorite scenes from Trigun Maximum

Scans & translation by @trigun-manga-overhaul

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Mind Quest: Melding Into You (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a mind quest, 纵融流入你, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

[Additional warning]: Same old warning LOL. Considering the super vivid explicitness, if you don’t qualify for the 17+ rating of the game (CN server), it’s very highly recommended that you don’t proceed under the cut~ :>

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【Subbed Video】

[Heads-up]: Yes, read the transcript for reading, of course! But for the life of me, PLEASE DO WATCH THE VIDEO!! YOU DO NOT WANNA MISS WU LEI’S GODLY VOICE ACTING AND THOSE CLOSE-UPS AKSJSJSDGFG (+ excuse my real-time reactions 🤪😂)

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【Transcript Version】

【Chapter 1】

With every breath, the air is saturated with the briny smell of seawater. The sun is beaming so brilliantly that it appears almost white, reminiscent of a melted silver sphere.

The scorching sand sears through the soles of my shoes, grilling the bottoms of my feet. The water within my body evaporates continuously as sweat trickles down.

MC: Ngh… Victor…

Lacking strength, I weakly tug at the hem of his shirt, and my hand naturally reaches into the backpack, retrieving the item I need.

MC: Ah… we’re about to run out of this last bottle of water too.

I hold the remaining half-filled bottle of mineral water against my ear and give it a shake, attempting to quench my thirst by listening to the sound of water.

MC: I feel like I’m being roasted from head to toe…

V̲i̲c̲t̲o̲r̲ ̲s̲h̲i̲f̲t̲s̲ ̲h̲i̲s̲ ̲p̲o̲s̲i̲t̲i̲o̲n̲ ̲a̲n̲d̲ ̲s̲t̲a̲n̲d̲s̲ ̲i̲n̲ ̲f̲r̲o̲n̲t̲ ̲o̲f̲ ̲m̲e̲ ̲a̲t̲ ̲a̲ ̲d̲i̲f̲f̲e̲r̲e̲n̲t̲ ̲a̲n̲g̲l̲e̲,̲ ̲a̲l̲i̲g̲n̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲h̲i̲m̲s̲e̲l̲f̲ ̲a̲t̲ ̲j̲u̲s̲t̲ ̲t̲h̲e̲ ̲r̲i̲g̲h̲t̲ ̲t̲u̲r̲n̲ ̲s̲o̲ ̲h̲i̲s̲ ̲s̲h̲a̲d̲o̲w̲ ̲s̲h̲i̲e̲l̲d̲s̲ ̲m̲e̲ ̲f̲r̲o̲m̲ ̲t̲h̲e̲ ̲s̲c̲o̲r̲c̲h̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲s̲u̲n̲.̲

Victor: Let’s take a break if you’re tired.

I shake my head, gazing at the beach with endless waves in the distance and our private yacht stranded on the shore. It still feels unbelievable to me.

Who could have imagined it would turn out like this before we set off?

Recently, the several new projects Victor has been working on have been progressing steadily. And I have also finally managed to carve out some time for a vacation. 

Thereupon, we hopped onto Victor’s private boat and set sail, fully prepared for a delightful voyage at sea.

However, the navigation system suddenly failed when we were out at sea, leaving us without any means to find our way back to shore, and eventually, we ran out of fuel.

We drifted at the mercy of the waves for over ten hours at sea before finally making landfall on this unnamed island with no signal. And now, we are on the verge of running out of resources.

Victor sighs and reaches out, placing his hand on my forehead and the nape of my neck while I’m lost in thought. 

Victor: Your body temperature is still normal. It doesn’t seem like you’ve got a heatstroke.

H͟e͟ u͟n͟s͟c͟r͟e͟w͟s͟ t͟h͟e͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟ b͟o͟t͟t͟l͟e͟ a͟n͟d͟ p͟o͟u͟r͟s͟ o͟u͟t͟ a͟b͟o͟u͟t͟ h͟a͟l͟f͟ a͟ c͟a͟p͟f͟u͟l͟ o͟f͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟. T͟h͟e͟n͟, h͟e͟ d͟i͟p͟s͟ h͟i͟s͟ f͟i͟n͟g͟e͟r͟t͟i͟p͟ i͟n͟t͟o͟ t͟h͟e͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟ a͟n͟d͟ p͟r͟e͟s͟s͟e͟s͟ t͟h͟e͟ m͟o͟i͟s͟t͟u͟r͟e͟ a͟g͟a͟i͟n͟s͟t͟ m͟y͟ p͟a͟r͟c͟h͟e͟d͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟.

As my lips become moist and cool, I can’t help but rub my lips against his fingertips. At this moment, looking up, I find that his own lips are also slightly chapped.

Victor: Where has your imagination run off to again?

Looking at his fatigued yet still unwavering expression, I find myself unable to utter a single despondent phrase like “We’re doomed” or “What are we going to do?”

I͟ s͟i͟m͟p͟l͟y͟ c͟u͟r͟v͟e͟ m͟y͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟ u͟p͟w͟a͟r͟d͟s͟ a͟n͟d͟ m͟o͟i͟s͟t͟e͟n͟ h͟i͟s͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟, m͟i͟r͟r͟o͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ h͟i͟s͟ g͟e͟s͟t͟u͟r͟e͟ j͟u͟s͟t͟ n͟o͟w͟.

MC: I’m just thinking, CEO Victor is always so thoughtful in moments like this.

Victor doesn’t expose my thoughts. Instead, he simply takes my hand and guides me in a different direction, heading straight for the lush forest at the heart of the island.

We savor a brief moment of relief, cooling ourselves off beneath the shades of the trees before Victor opens his mouth unhurriedly.

Victor: The coastal area we passed by appears deserted and untouched for a long time. Instead of trying our luck under the blazing sun, it’s wiser to change our route.

MC: What makes you so sure? 

Victor: In the spot where our boat got stranded, there were long discarded fishing nets underwater. Judging by the level of corrosion, they must have been there for at least three to five years.

Victor: Since we can’t be certain that help will be available, we need to move towards a location abundant in resources.

Victor: In areas filled with vegetation, even if we run out of fresh drinking water, we can still resort to extracting water from the soil layer.

Victor: The emergency food in our bag is sufficient to sustain us for half a month, and that should provide ample time for the insurance company to locate us.

As always, he calmly assesses the situation, and his confident tone sparks courage within me.

MC: Makes sense! I now feel like I was really being carried away earlier, thinking that we were about to dominate the headlines of next week’s news.

MC: Something like, “The CEO of LFG and his girlfriend have been missing since their trip at sea, suspected to have been killed on an unnamed island”...

Victor glances at me with a helpless yet amused expression.

Victor: You have the energy to crack jokes now. Seems like you’ve had a good rest?

Taking a deep breath, I muster all the strength I have left within me and tightly grip back onto his hand.

MC: Hmm! Let’s go! Let’s set off!

—

As we go deeper into the woods, the terrain grows steeper. After walking for more than ten minutes, we’ve arrived at the highest point of this small hill.

I involuntarily find myself stopping in my tracks, my eyes widening.

MC: …Victor, look!

Clusters of cottages dot the landscape along the paved road, nestled at the foot of the hills. The lush greenery of the island encircles them, akin to pearls embraced by green velvet.

Smoke rises from the kitchen chimneys of some houses, and clean laundry hangs in the front and back of the yards. Down by the seaside, freshly caught seafood is being sun-dried.

After being away from any signs of human habitation, I finally lay my eyes on the sparkling radiance of human civilization once again.

I can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, and from the corner of my eye, I see that Victor’s previously slightly tensed jaw has also relaxed.

Our footsteps can’t help but quicken, and we hurry towards the seaside village.

—

Fifteen minutes later. We find ourselves seated on the cool, wide wooden chairs in the courtyard of the village chief's house, drinking water from enamel cups in big gulps.

The village chief listens to our experiences and nods understandingly.

Village Chief: Don’t blame yourselves. It was just a stroke of bad luck that you happened to be caught up in it. 

Village Chief: Even we old fishermen didn’t anticipate that this magnetic storm would have an impact on our coastal waters.

During the conversation, we learn that the name of this island is White Pearl Island, and the villagers here make a living through pearl farming.

As Victor had surmised before, the western coast where we made landfall had only been used as a fishing ground about a decade ago.

As time went on, the village prospered through pearl farming, and the villagers abandoned the fishing grounds to develop and operate pearl harvesting sites in the eastern coastal area.

While the village chief briefly steps away, Victor leans against the door with his arms crossed, appearing as composed as if he were standing in his own office.

Victor: What’s on your mind?

MC: I’m thinking, this place is so serene, untouched by excessive development. It’s perfectly suited for a sojourn.

MC: And who knows, I might even have the chance to enjoy a sumptuous seafood feast prepared by CEO Victor using fresh fish and shrimp!

A smile tugs at the corners of Victor’s lips as he pinches my cheek.

Victor: Always thinking about food.

Victor: Although, if a certain someone wants a peaceful vacation without any disruptions, this place certainly meets your criteria.

MC: I’m very satisfied, but I wonder if CEO Victor will be able to adapt?

I͟ a͟r͟c͟h͟ a͟n͟ e͟y͟e͟b͟r͟o͟w͟ a͟s͟ I͟ l͟o͟o͟k͟ a͟t͟ h͟i͟m͟. V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ b͟e͟n͟d͟s͟ d͟o͟w͟n͟ a͟n͟d͟ u͟n͟t͟a͟n͟g͟l͟e͟s͟ a͟ f͟e͟w͟ s͟t͟r͟a͟n͟d͟s͟ o͟f͟ m͟y͟ l͟o͟n͟g͟, s͟w͟e͟a͟t͟-s͟o͟a͟k͟e͟d͟, k͟n͟o͟t͟t͟e͟d͟ h͟a͟i͟r͟, a͟ s͟m͟i͟l͟e͟ f͟o͟r͟m͟i͟n͟g͟ o͟n͟ h͟i͟s͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟.

Victor: Why would I want to pass up the opportunity to reside in this “Seaside Utopia”?

—

Beneath the setting sun, Victor and I find ourselves standing at the entrance of a run-down health center.

The rosy golden light casts upon the shabby outer walls and stairway marred by dust, serving as a declaration of the antiquated and abandoned state of this place.

I wrap my arm around Victor’s and give him a wink.

MC: Although there isn’t a proper inn in the village, the village chief’s recommendation is not bad.

MC: For a village without a tourism industry, the living conditions here are much better than I imagined.

Victor: I see, so I wonder who was murmuring about being stranded on a deserted island earlier, and now in the blink of an eye, she can just “go with the flow”?

MC: It’s true that I’m not adept at survival on a deserted island... but I definitely excel at turning a place into a warm and cozy little home.

With his eyes on me, Victor’s lips form into a smile, warm like the hues of the sunset glow.

Victor: Well, I’m looking forward to seeing your performance.

—

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—

【Chapter 2】

The moment the rusty key turns the lock and the door opens, a stream of sunlight floods through the crack, illuminating the billowing dust.

MC: Cough, cough, cough–– so dusty––

V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ c͟o͟v͟e͟r͟s͟ m͟y͟ n͟o͟s͟e͟ a͟n͟d͟ m͟o͟u͟t͟h͟, p͟u͟l͟l͟i͟n͟g͟ m͟e͟ b͟e͟h͟i͟n͟d͟ h͟i͟m͟. I͟ s͟q͟u͟e͟e͟z͟e͟ p͟a͟s͟t͟ a͟n͟d͟ r͟e͟s͟t͟ m͟y͟ h͟e͟a͟d͟ o͟n͟ h͟i͟s͟ s͟h͟o͟u͟l͟d͟e͟r͟, p͟e͟e͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ i͟n͟.

…it appears that the deserted state of this village health center exceeds my imagination.

The unattended floor, constantly exposed to heat and humidity, is covered in a layer of mold and dust. Each step on it produces a creaking sound. I try turning on the incandescent bulb, but it doesn’t light up.

There are even more “surprises” awaiting us as we step inside. The water in the toilet tank fills up slowly, and it makes a gurgling noise when flushed. The window glass is cracked, resembling a spider’s web.

The sole good news is that the signal of the landline phone at the health center is quite stable. Using his phone’s contact list, Victor dials the insurance company.

They inform us that they will come to rescue us and the boat once the seafaring is no longer affected. At that time, they will contact this phone number again.

As Victor wraps up the phone call, I have already prepared the cleaning tools and solemnly hand him a mask.

MC: Comrade Victor, it seems that our transformation task is very demanding!

Casting a brief glance my way, Victor rolls up his sleeves and takes out a screwdriver from the toolbox.

Victor: Does it scare you?

MC: Absolutely not! With the hardworking and wise CEO Victor at my side, why would I be scared?

MC: Let’s get to work!

As I go from scrubbing the floor to changing bed sheets and pillowcases, I gradually feel like I have turned into a cleaning robot.

In the meantime, Victor takes apart the light bulbs and rewires the filaments, restores the pieces of furniture that are still usable, and even goes through the process of repairing the electrical circuitry in the house.

By the time we’ve finally renovated the health center to a state that people can actually live in, the setting sun outside the window has long dipped below the sea surface.

As I lean back and topple onto the one-person hospital bed, to my surprise, I immediately hear an ominous creaking sound coming from beneath me.

Before I can react, the wheels at the bottom of the begin to roll, causing both the bed and me lying on it to move backward––

MC: ?!

A hand grabs onto the bed rail at its head, forcing it to a stop. As I lift my head, true to my expectations, I am met with the sight of a Victor with knitted brows.

Victor: …

MC: …ahem, this bed is surprisingly fun. CEO Victor, would you like to give it a try?

Victor: Indeed, it’s quite entertaining. Maybe I should build a track for you, and I bet a certain someone can ride the bed from the health center all the way to the sea.

I make a face at him and bend down to close the valve next to the wheels. Then, Victor and I each lay down on our respective beds.

After a long period of hustle and fatigue, we certainly both are in need of a thorough rest.

I nestle under the makeshift bedsheet that serves as a thin blanket, almost wishing to never wake up once I fall asleep. However, as soon as I close my eyes, the sound of rain reaches my ears from outside. 

The torrential raindrops relentlessly pound against the roof tiles and awning, creating the reminiscence of war drums on a summer island beating against me.

My sleepiness is entirely vanquished by the joint assault of rainwater and roof tiles, ultimately leading to a complete and utter defeat. 

In a daze, I open my eyes and habitually reach for my phone tucked under the pillow. It’s already 2 a.m.

Since I don’t have any sleepiness anyway, I simply decide to hold onto my phone, which has no signal or internet, and start flipping through my photo album.

From the sights we’ve shared together, to the fine delicacies cooked by Victor, and onto the little animals gravitating around him…

I find myself being so enthralled as I delve into the photos that I have completely forgotten about my insomnia. Whenever I come across something interesting, I excitedly turn over and delve deeper.

At this moment, the bed beside me makes a creaking sound. And with the dim light of my phone, I see Victor sitting up.

MC: Huh, you’re still not asleep?

Victor: I’m not so dull that I won’t be able to hear the sound of a certain someone tossing and turning.

Victor walks over and sits at the edge of my little bed.

Victor: I’m not feeling sleepy yet. I’ll keep you company for a bit.

As the screen of the idle phone gradually dims, fading into a dark and somber hue, Victor’s outline also slowly dissolves into obscurity.

Amid the darkness, just as I shift slightly to the side, his warmth instantly draws closer.

His long, slender, and toned body presses against mine, as Victor leans against the edge of the bed, squeezing into the cramped space of the tiny bed with me.

–

[Anika’s Notes]: Haha, I love how MC calls the bed “小小床” (xiao xiao chuang), really emphasizing how small it really is LOL *cries in their inability to sleep a single night apart* 🥺

–

The bed creaks under the weight, apparently struggling to bear our combined load. His arm comes around me, embracing my back.

Victor: Why are you still not sleeping?

MC: [coquettishly]  It’s my first time spending the night in a health center, so I’ve not adapted to it yet. And the sound of the rain on the roof is so noisy!

MC: I feel like I need someone to coax me to sleep~

Victor’s arm clasps me deeper into him, letting my face rest snugly against his chest.

Victor: Dummy…

Victor: If the sound of the rain is bothersome, just listen to my breathing. Don’t let your mind wander anywhere else.

In the dimness of the night, I can clearly hear his breathing. It sets off an uneven and erratic rhythm in my heart.

He is so close… so close.

The proximity is such that even the slightest movement causes our skin to graze against each other, sending tingles of sensation through me. It’s so close that his lips, when opening and closing, brush against my ear from time to time.

I try not to let my imagination run wild, but I feel that tingling sensation from my ear spreading to my cheeks.

Victor gently pats my back, and t͟h͟e͟ s͟o͟u͟n͟d͟ o͟f͟ h͟i͟s͟ v͟o͟i͟c͟e͟ c͟a͟s͟c͟a͟d͟e͟s͟ d͟o͟w͟n͟ u͟p͟o͟n͟ m͟e͟ l͟i͟k͟e͟ d͟r͟i͟f͟t͟i͟n͟g͟ d͟a͟n͟d͟e͟l͟i͟o͟n͟s͟, bringing with it a soft and tingling sensation.

Victor: Is this method not effective?

MC: It’s very effective. I’m already feeling more relaxed.

Victor: So why are you staring with your eyes wide open instead of sleeping? What mischievous thoughts are you up to?

MC: It’s not that easy to fall asleep, okay… How about we play a little bedtime game?

Victor: …insatiable.

The freshly dried quilt cover has no trace of detergent scent, allowing Victor’s warm breath to permeate through it––

Akin to a tiny hook, it entices me to draw closer, pressing myself against him.

MC: Or else, let me just soak up some of that “Victor energy.”

With these words, I extend my hand under the covers and wrap my arms around him, simultaneously tilting my head up and nuzzling my cheek against his chin.

Victor allows me to s͟h͟o͟w͟e͟r͟ h͟i͟m͟ w͟i͟t͟h͟ k͟i͟s͟s͟e͟s͟ a͟n͟d͟ g͟e͟n͟t͟l͟e͟ r͟u͟b͟s͟, until the sleep bugs slowly cast a veil of moist and warm haze before my eyes.

I close my eyes and curl up against his chest, longingly and fondly.

Victor: Sleepy?

I initially wanted to deny it, but a sly idea sparks in my mind, and I pretend to be drowsy as I reply.

MC: Mhm… a little…

With my eyes closed, I snuggle closer and plant a kiss on the nape of his neck before nestling my head back down, pretending to be in a sleepy state.

Victor: …but I’m not sleepy anymore.

I hear Victor take a deep breath, somewhat helplessly brushing away the stray strands of hair from my face.

Following this, a soft and warm touch falls at the corner of my lips.

MC: [blushing]  Ngh…

Pretending to be drowsy, I tilt my head slightly, positioning myself so his kiss lands precisely on my lips.

Victor: …

His breath falters momentarily, then transforms into a knowing and husky exhale.

Victor: Your acting isn’t bad.

The softness on my lips slightly intensifies, prying open the space between my teeth and transmitting a dry and warm heat.

I͟ f͟e͟e͟l͟ a͟s͟ i͟f͟ V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ h͟a͟s͟ p͟e͟e͟l͟e͟d͟ o͟f͟f͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟h͟i͟n͟ l͟a͟y͟e͟r͟ o͟f͟ t͟u͟l͟l͟e͟, opening my moist eyes and crashing into his intent gaze on me. I deliberately pout my lips at him.

MC: [blushing]  What do you mean… where was I acting…

Victor: Hmm, so you were not acting? Were you playing, then?

Knowing his intentions, I press myself closer to him, lovingly using my lips to lightly brush against the corner of his mouth.

MC: I thought… the game had already begun.

Victor lets out a knowing smile. Following this, h͟e͟ b͟e͟n͟d͟s͟ h͟i͟s͟ h͟e͟a͟d͟ s͟l͟i͟g͟h͟t͟l͟y͟ a͟n͟d͟ p͟l͟a͟n͟t͟s͟ a͟ s͟e͟n͟s͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟ o͟f͟ p͟r͟e͟d͟a͟t͟o͟r͟y͟ p͟a͟i͟n͟ o͟n͟ m͟y͟ c͟h͟e͟s͟t͟.

Victor: That’s true.

Victor: This game will continue for a long time, and…

His voice is so irresistibly alluring to me that I͟ c͟a͟n͟’t͟ h͟e͟l͟p͟ m͟y͟s͟e͟l͟f͟ f͟r͟o͟m͟ c͟l͟i͟m͟b͟i͟n͟g͟ u͟p͟ a͟n͟d͟ f͟i͟l͟l͟i͟n͟g͟ e͟v͟e͟r͟y͟ r͟e͟m͟a͟i͟n͟i͟n͟g͟ c͟r͟e͟v͟i͟c͟e͟ w͟i͟t͟h͟ k͟i͟s͟s͟e͟s͟.

MC: [blushing]  And what?

Victor: When it ends is up to me to decide.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

[Anika’s Notes]: Yeah, mark the euphemism in MC’s very first monologue here, and you’ll see what she really meant later on LMAO 🤪

–

C͟o͟n͟s͟i͟d͟e͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ t͟h͟e͟ i͟n͟t͟e͟n͟s͟e͟ r͟a͟i͟n͟f͟a͟l͟l͟ w͟e͟ h͟a͟d͟ l͟a͟s͟t͟ n͟i͟g͟h͟t͟, I͟ i͟n͟i͟t͟i͟a͟l͟l͟y͟ t͟h͟o͟u͟g͟h͟t͟ t͟h͟a͟t͟ t͟o͟d͟a͟y͟ w͟o͟u͟l͟d͟ b͟e͟ a͟ l͟i͟t͟t͟l͟e͟ c͟o͟o͟l͟e͟r͟.

Much to my surprise, even at noon, the sizzling hot and humid summer air persists over the sea surface.

Sitting at the edge of the deck, I hold a glass of chilled water and dip my feet into the seawater. The refreshing contrast in temperature compels me to sigh contentedly.

MC: Ha–– sure enough, being on the sea surface is the coziest thing during summer.

This morning, Victor requested the village chief for help in refueling our boat. After that, we sailed the boat to the coastal waters from where we could see the village.

MC: [musing to herself]  The sea, the fishing village, the sunshine… it would be even better if Victor were here.

Victor: I’ve only been in the water for ten minutes, and a certain someone already couldn’t wait any longer?

Just as I m͟u͟r͟m͟u͟r͟ h͟i͟s͟ n͟a͟m͟e͟ t͟o͟ m͟y͟s͟e͟l͟f͟, a spray of water blooms at my feet–– and there is Victor, floating up.

He takes off his diving cap and slicks back his damp hair. His entire being exudes a nonchalant charm.

A touch of a smile plays at the corner of his lips, r͟e͟m͟i͟n͟i͟s͟c͟e͟n͟t͟ o͟f͟ t͟h͟e͟ b͟r͟e͟a͟k͟i͟n͟g͟ o͟f͟ d͟a͟w͟n͟ o͟n͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟e͟a͟’s͟ h͟o͟r͟i͟z͟o͟n͟, making me unable to help myself from squinting my eyes and fixing my gaze upon him.

Beads of seawater coalesce into droplets on his handsome cheeks, reflecting the dazzling sunlight and shimmering gorgeously.

MC: Isn’t it because I want to share the scenery above the sea surface with you?

MC: What was it like on your end? Is the underwater scenery here beautiful?

Victor: It’s alright. The water isn’t as crystal clear as in tourist spots, but there are plenty of shells being cultivated by pearl farmers underwater.

He leverages his body onto the boat and sits down beside me.

Victor: Once you finish enjoying your luxurious iced water, let’s go together to collect shells underwater.

MC: Huh? It wouldn’t be appropriate to collect someone else’s shells without permission…

Victor: You dummy, I’ve already talked to the village chief about it.

Victor: We accidentally ended up on this White Pearl Island. If you don’t participate in the “unique activities” that you like, would you be willing to return?

MC: You’re right. Then I should hurry and get in the water before it gets too hot!

I down the water in one gulp and bring the diving suit over, getting ready to change into it.

Victor: And this one, too. Don’t forget about it.

Victor reaches out and picks up the goggles that are set aside, but as he hands them to me, his eyebrows involuntarily knit together for a moment.

MC: What’s wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable somewhere?

Victor: It’s probably because my back got scraped when I was under the water. It hurts a little.

MC: Huh? Why didn’t you say anything earlier? Show it to me, quick!

–

I promptly ask Victor to take off his diving suit and carefully examine him from all sides, finding large patches of dark red sunburn marks scattered all over his body.

MC: And you always call me a dummy? How could you be so careless? It’s not a scrape; it’s sunburn!

Victor: …

A rarely-seen expression of embarrassment appears on Victor’s face, but he swiftly regains his usual composure.

Victor: …I’m not such a dummy that I’d forget to put on sunscreen. It’s probably that the magnetic storm is affecting the UV rays, so the sun is stronger than usual.

MC: Humph, sophistry. Luckily, I brought some medication. You wait here!

As I speak, I squeeze out an amount of ointment and rub it onto a patch of red mark on Victor’s body, using my fingertip to spread it in circular motions.

MC: [affectionately]  If not treated promptly, sunburns can leave lasting marks. You have to wait for the cream to be fully absorbed like this.  

MC: [affectionate business-like tone]  CEO Victor did not take sun protection seriously this time. You must remember my notes properly.

Victor: Do you usually use this tone when giving feedback to your employees?

MC: I certainly do not. I’m just like you. This “small stove with a gentle fire” approach is reserved only for you.

—

[Tidbits]: The term MC uses here is 温火小灶 (wen huo xiao zao). It’s an idiomatic phrase used to describe a situation where someone is receiving preferential treatment or special privileges– the kind of partiality or preference you naturally tend to have for someone you love/ care for. I decided to do the literal translation here instead of a sophisticated one because of the innuendo later, haha~ 🤪

—

Due to Victor’s resolve to work out all year round, every muscle on his body has reached its prime condition. His skin is toned, and it’s silky smooth to the touch.

The red sunburn marks on his skin now have created the resemblance to a piece of white satin fabric being dyed red.

I can’t help but apply the cream with even gentler movements, massaging along the curves of his muscles to minimize any pain caused by the rubbing of the medication.

Victor breathes in gently as his muscles tense in response to the touch of my wandering fingertips, their texture moist and supple.

His skin already has a faint reddish tint due to sun exposure, but after applying the cream, it takes on a radiant sheen under the light, tempting me to keep touching further.

A hot and humid air lingers between us, perhaps causing some slight tingling sensation. His breathing seems slightly constricted.

Victor: …that’s enough.

MC: No, it’s not! I’ve only applied the ointment to one spot; I need to treat the other parts properly as well!

With a deadpan tone, I make him pull down the diving suit from his chest, revealing his neck and chest, which now have a reddish hue from the sunburn.

–

[Anika’s Notes]: Before we get into it, LMAO, I swear MC’s fetish for Victor’s Adam’s apple (and especially knowing he’s sensitive there), every freaking time, is something else entirely 😂

–

There is a slight redness at his Adam’s apple. And watching his subtle resistance, a wicked idea arises within me.

As I reach out and apply the ointment with my hand, my fingertips gently caress his Adam’s apple at the same time.

Victor’s Adam’s apple quivers slightly, and a raspy moan he’s unable to hold in escapes through his teeth.

Victor: Trying to mess around again?

Victor seizes my mischievous hand and runs his curled finger pad over my fingertips, silently questioning me with his eyes.

MC: [blushing]  No, I just thought that it would make you more comfortable this way.

I shamelessly make up a twisted excuse, but Victor narrows his eyes and studies me for a moment. Then suddenly, he curves his lips into a smile and clasps my hand, bringing it to his chest and caressing it.

MC: [blushing]  !!

The unforeseen sensation of smooth touch seeps into my hand, carrying the fiery heat that uniquely belongs to summer. I can’t help but let out a small gasp of surprise.

Victor: This way, I’ll be more comfortable.

MC: [blushing]  But…

Victor: Are you planning to treat different parts in different ways?

Victor narrows his eyes slightly, and his deep gaze carries an air of someone in complete control. My competitive spirit can’t help but surge.

MC: [blushing]  N-no, I won’t. I’ll make sure to carefully and thoroughly smear it onto every single part.

Taking the initiative, my fingertips spontaneously roam across his chest. And as the cream gradually melts with the warmth of his body, it becomes slightly sticky.

MC: [blushing]  Stop fidgeting. The cream is all over me now… it’s so sticky…

T͟h͟e͟ s͟a͟l͟t͟y͟ a͟r͟o͟m͟a͟ o͟f͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟e͟a͟ p͟e͟r͟m͟e͟a͟t͟e͟s͟ t͟h͟e͟ k͟i͟s͟s͟e͟s͟, a͟n͟d͟ I͟ m͟u͟r͟m͟u͟r͟ i͟n͟c͟o͟h͟e͟r͟e͟n͟t͟l͟y͟.

Victor: All I can say is that… a certain dummy is just as careless.

Victor’s eyes are reminiscent of ocean waves beneath the blazing sun, passionately and fiercely locked onto me.

Victor: If it gets rubbed onto you, just let it be so.

Victor: Since the “small stove with a gentle fire” approach is reserved only for me, I’m sure the Big Producer won’t mind going through the process again later. 

The sunlight brings waves of heat onto the deck, while the tide continues to swell, lifting the boat higher and higher.

The boat glides like a nimble fish, swaying its body amidst the splashes of white foam created by the churning waves and producing the sound of crashing water.

Ripples spread out in circles, gradually expanding across the surface of the sea.

—

[Anika’s Notes]: LMAO the water euphemisms, no wonder Victor’s key word was “Moist.” Also, their energy LOL. Last night was gentle “love making” ft. biting on MC’s nips, among other things, and the next day was rough fcking ft. givin’ him head, among other things 🤪

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

[Anika’s Notes]: Mark the very first monologue here, too, cause the euphemism will be given the explicit visual later on LOL~ 🤪

—

T͟h͟e͟r͟e͟’s͟ b͟e͟e͟n͟ f͟r͟e͟q͟u͟e͟n͟t͟ r͟a͟i͟n͟f͟a͟l͟l͟ d͟u͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ t͟h͟e͟ d͟a͟y͟ a͟n͟d͟ n͟i͟g͟h͟t͟ o͟n͟ W͟h͟i͟t͟e͟ P͟e͟a͟r͟l͟ I͟s͟l͟a͟n͟d͟ r͟e͟c͟e͟n͟t͟l͟y͟. A͟n͟d͟ f͟o͟r͟ s͟e͟v͟e͟r͟a͟l͟ c͟o͟n͟s͟e͟c͟u͟t͟i͟v͟e͟ d͟a͟y͟s͟, i͟t͟’s͟ b͟e͟e͟n͟ p͟o͟u͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ h͟e͟a͟v͟i͟l͟y͟ d͟u͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ t͟h͟e͟ n͟i͟g͟h͟t͟t͟i͟m͟e͟.

The rain at night, complemented by the sea breeze, is extraordinarily tranquil. And during these sleepless nights, Victor and I find ourselves engrossed in lengthy conversations, naturally resulting in us sleeping until noon.

…well, to be more accurate, I’m the one primarily responsible for letting nature take its course and dawdling in bed.

On occasions, by the time I wake up, Victor is already fully prepared and informs me about the plans for the new day.

Sometimes, we would dive into the water and swim under the gentle caress of the waves. Other times, we would wander hand in hand, exploring the desolate and peaceful stretches of the beach.

However, today is a bit different. When I wake up, I happen to be greeted by the sight of Victor carrying several large bags into the courtyard.

MC: Eh, did you go shopping?

Intrigued, I open the bags to take a look inside, only to find that they are filled with a variety of fresh vegetables, fish, and shrimp.

Victor: Today, we have something new in the plan.

I don’t know how, but somehow Victor has procured a bicycle. After he hangs the bags on the handlebars, he pats the back seat, gesturing me to hop on.

Victor: The village chief has arranged a suitable vacant kitchen space for us. Get on the bicycle first. 

His words pique my curiosity. I carefully circle my arms around his waist, and under Victor’s control, the bicycle steadily glides along the unfamiliar road.

–

The narrow path is incredibly rough, and the unevenly paved road occasionally causes the bicycle to jolt violently.

MC: V-Victor, can you go a bit slower?

Victor: Relax the hand that’s clamping down my stomach a little, and I’ll consider it.

Victor frees one hand and pats my hand that is wrapped around his waist.

Victor: You’ve already experienced my bicycle driving skills last year. Are you still not confident?

MC: …pfff, CEO Victor sure does hold grudges well. How do you even remember such details?

Victor: It’s only that I just can’t forget that silly expression on a certain someone’s face before getting on the bicycle back then.

MC: Hehe, although I’ve already experienced it, this time, it’s an advanced version of the track with a higher level of difficulty…

The sea breeze sweeps through, as if bringing the sound of the waves crashing along the coast where we rode last year to my ears, while simultaneously carrying our synchronized laughter even farther away.

–

[Tidbits]: Refresher- a big callback to the dual proposal date, i.e., the Love Pledge Date on EN~ ❣️

–

At the end of the narrow path stands a small, white lighthouse, resembling a tiny chess piece amidst the vast blue sea.

MC: Could it be that the kitchen you mentioned is inside this lighthouse?

Victor nods and, with one hand holding mine and the other pushing the bicycle, walks towards the opened door of the lighthouse.

—

Victor: The magnetic storm is not over yet, so the village’s boats are unable to sail too far. The original caretaker of the lighthouse has returned to the village for a break, so the kitchen here is temporarily available.

Victor: When you first arrived on this White Pearl Island, didn’t you want me to personally cook a seafood feast for you?

Victor: This place is just right for us. No matter how much fuss we make and loud we are, it won’t disturb anyone else.

The corners of my lips can’t help but turn up wildly. I pounce on Victor and lock him in a big bear hug.

MC: Yippee, then it’s time for me to show off my skills!

I find a brand-new apron in one of the bags and skillfully fasten it around Victor, smoothing out any wrinkles.

MC: Chef, what tasks do you need your Sous Chef to fulfill?

Victor arches an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He takes out a few vegetables from the bags and hands them to me.

Victor: Well, let’s begin with washing the vegetables.

MC: Sure thing~

As we finish washing each vegetable that pairs well with seafood, their leaves are now adorned with shimmering water droplets, reflecting a brilliant sparkle.

When the ingredients for the dishes are almost prepared and only waiting to be cooked, I walk over to Victor with my hands swinging behind my back.

The view of his figure from behind remains as poised and graceful as ever. He seems as if what he’s standing before is not a rustic clay stove, but the back kitchen of Souvenir.

Just as I’m about to lean over and peek into the pot, Victor blocks me with his arm.

MC: Don’t be so stingy! Could this be some secret recipe that I’m not allowed to know?

Victor: …there’s nothing that you can’t know, but I have another task to assign to you now.

As if he’s long been prepared, Victor somehow pulls out a list from his apron pocket and hands it to me.

A little confused, I take it from him and find that it’s a list of materials, listing items such as rubber pads and sponges.

Victor: I asked the village chief before coming here, and these materials we need are stocked upstairs. Let's get them ready beforehand, and we’ll have use of them when we get back to the health center.

Looking at his sincere expression, I forget about any teasing intentions and nod in response.

MC: Alright, leave it to me.

–

I rummage through the second floor of the lighthouse. Once I’ve found and readied all the materials we need, I swing open the door leading to the first floor.

The next second, a dense plume of pungent smoke rushes into the room, instantly clouding my vision.

MC: Cough, cough–– what’s going on? Is there a fire?! Victor!

Amidst the billowing smoke and intense heat, I hurriedly run down the stairs skipping every few steps, only to find that the first floor is also consumed by rolling clouds of dense smoke.

With a strenuous effort, after I’ve managed to push open the door to the lighthouse, I hear Victor’s unhurried voice coming from behind me.

Victor: I’m here.

–

As the smoke dissipates, it becomes evident that there is no fire inside the room. Victor is calmly seated at the dinner table, with a dish already prepared and placed on the table.

Upon seeing that he is unharmed, I shift my attention to the dish waiting on the table.

The dish is vibrant and delectable, skillfully plated with precision, showcasing his usual level of expertise.

If one overlooks the lingering smoke in the room and the smudges of ash on his face, everything appears to be the same as usual.

Nevertheless, the present situation is undeniably bizarre, leading me to narrow my eyes in suspicion.

MC: Victor, what happened?

Victor stays silent for a brief moment before pointing towards the clay stove in the kitchen, where the firewood is still burning.

Victor: I…  [breaks into a short coughing fit and still sounds adorable]  cough, cough––

Just as he is about to speak, the smoke causes him to choke, and he bends over in a coughing fit. After a while, he finally speaks in a rather peculiar tone.

Victor: The stove got damaged.

MC: …?

Victor: I’m being serious. It’s damaged.

Taking a brief look at the smoke billowing from the firewood and the partially charred wall, I roughly have a grasp of what must’ve happened here.

Seeing how calm and collected Victor was, I had assumed he had already grasped the technique of burning firewood. I never expected to witness such a scene of disaster.

MC: …cough, well, it’s a bit unfortunate. But CEO Victor still perfectly completed his cooking, didn’t he?

With the spirit of not ruining the mood, I suppress my laughter and pick up my chopsticks to take a bite.

As the fish slides into my mouth, it brings with it the freshness and tenderness of the ocean. My eyes can’t help but lighten up.

MC: Despite a minor hiccup, Chef Victor’s cooking is still incredibly delicious!

Victor: The quantity and ingredients used are the same as I calculated, so the taste shouldn’t deviate too much.

MC: You’ve worked hard. Now you take a break while I go and prepare a dish for us to try.

As I walk towards the stove while recalling the firewood-burning techniques I had previously learned, Victor suddenly grabs my hand.

Victor: …you sit here and wait for a bit. I’ll go and clean the pot.

The smudges of ashes on his face make his typically concealed emotions more prominent. He seems to be a bit… embarrassed?

Victor’s complete deviation from his usual demeanor sparks a “rebellious” impulse within me.

MC: I’ll do it, I’ll do it. Chef Victor can sit back and enjoy some well-deserved rest. Go and wait to savor a seafood feast.

Without waiting for him to stop me, I have already lifted the pot lid skeptically.

Victor seems to take a short breath, and I find myself nailed to the spot in surprise.

A half-pot of charred and unidentifiable food clings to the edges of the stove. I can’t help but widen my eyes and look at Victor, who has a slight furrow on his brows.

He loosens his hold on my hand, and his gaze shifts from the pot to my face, his expression subtly composed.

Victor: I…

MC: You…

Victor: Never mind. As you can see, it was indeed a failed cooking attempt.

Victor: I have never used a cauldron before, so I made a mistake in my calculation. Go ahead and laugh if you want to.

MC: Pfftt, HAHAHAHAHA…

Granted a special pardon, I can’t help but burst into laughter, and it takes me a while before I can stand up straight again.

MC: It was your first time using a clay stove, and it’s perfectly normal to struggle with controlling the heat at the first attempt. I’m sure I would have done even worse than you.

Victor: “Even worse than me”?

Feigning ignorance, I clear my throat and lean in close to him, smiling as I gaze into his eyes.

MC: Looking at this from this angle, CEO Victor still has excellent foresight.

MC: If something like this happened in the village, everyone would think it was a fire. Luckily, there is no one around here.

Victor: The precondition of this “luckily” is that your attempt also doesn’t turn into an accident.

MC: Okay. But if I do stir up trouble, I’m sure CEO Victor won’t just stand by and do nothing, will he?

Victor’s expression softens as he takes the cauldron from me, which I’ve strained to lift.

Victor: Dummy… instead of overthinking, why don’t you think about how we can clean this cauldron together?

So, after thoroughly cleaning the pot, arranging the firewood, and tidying up the stove, I change the placement of the firewood and light it. This time, there is no plume of black smoke.

Victor: …you know how to burn firewood?

MC: When we were filming the countryside program before, I learned from the villagers that the positioning of firewood is crucial for proper ventilation.

MC: It’s coming in handy now. It feels like my previous learning wasn’t in vain after all.

A soft chuckle reaches my ears. Victor leans over, watching me.

Victor: A certain someone’s curious nature does indeed come in handy in moments like these.

MC: CEO Victor, are you not curious about the secret of setting up firewood?

Victor: If I say I am, will your chin soar to the sky?

MC: Just a little bit, definitely not that high.

Victor squints his eyes at me and gives a slow nod.

Victor: Go on then. Tell me about it.

MC: Well, let me hear you address me as “teacher” first.

Victor: …

An expression of being rendered speechless emerges on Victor’s face, and he stares at me with the look of “Are you a dummy” written across his countenance.

I can’t resist the urge to curve my lips upward, signaling my surrender.

MC: Alright then, if you address me as “Chef MC,” that will do too~

With a half smile on his face, Victor points at the cauldron in front of us.

Victor: Chef MC, your pot is about to burn.

MC: …!

MC: AHHHHH, don’t just stand there! Come and help, Victor!

In the end, before the ingredients run out, we eventually manage to prepare a dinner sufficient for two people.

Looking at the painstakingly prepared meal on the table, I even feel moved.

MC: It was really a challenge… but given that I got to witness CEO Victor’s culinary mishap for once, it was not a total loss~

Victor: You seem more thrilled about watching me make a mishap than you would be about eating pudding.

MC: Well, it’s not like I’ve seen you make so many cooking mistakes before…

Victor looks at me helplessly and shakes his head, laughing in spite of himself.

Victor: You’re right. I really can’t remember when was the last time I was this frantic and flustered.

MC: But to be honest, I think it’s rather nice this way.

MC: Today is a teensy bit less perfect than yesterday, but tomorrow will be a teensy bit more perfect than today.

MC: Each day brings something unique, and that’s what brings more freshness. I love that I get to see a novel version of you this way.

I reach out and circle my arms around Victor’s shoulders, brushing off the ash on his face with my fingertips. Then, I plant a kiss on the corner of his lips.

MC: See! Today I kissed Victor who didn’t even realize he had smudges of ash on his face~

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 5】

After dinner, we take our time to clean up the mess in the lighthouse before returning to the village.

Victor leads me along the stainless steel ladder, and together we climb up to the roof of the health center.

With the hottest hours of the day behind us, the sea breeze at dusk gently caresses us, carrying a slight salty moisture.

Watching as he puts together the sponges and rubber pads, my curiosity prompts me to speak.

MC: Sponges… rubber pads… it looks like you’re setting up a recording studio!

Just as these words leave my mouth, a realization suddenly dawns on me.

MC: Are you planning to add a soundproofing layer on the roof?

Victor: Not too slow. I don’t want a certain someone to toss and turn all night when it rains and end up looking like a panda the next day.

MC: Hehe, in that case, I’ll lend a helping hand too.

With a smile on my face, I take out the tools from the toolbox and help Victor set the soundproofing layer.

MC: I never imagined that you would not only know how to repair light bulbs and water tanks, but also be skilled in putting together wooden furniture and even installing soundproofing.

MC: It just feels like there’s nothing you can’t do. You’re so incredibly extraordinary, yet you always call yourself an ordinary person.

Victor: But on the flip side, there are things at times that many people can do, but I find myself not knowing how to do them.

Thinking back to the dinner experience, I can’t help but tug at the corners of my lips and look at him with an act of being very much in earnest.

MC: Indeed, there’s still more to learn when it comes to using a clay stove.

MC: But that’s actually great. Since coming to this village, I get to see a new side of Victor every single day.

V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟’s͟ h͟a͟n͟d͟ r͟e͟a͟c͟h͟e͟s͟ o͟u͟t͟, t͟h͟e͟ b͟a͟c͟k͟ o͟f͟ h͟i͟s͟ h͟a͟n͟d͟ b͟r͟u͟s͟h͟i͟n͟g͟ a͟g͟a͟i͟n͟s͟t͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟w͟e͟a͟t͟ d͟r͟o͟p͟l͟e͟t͟s͟ o͟n͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟i͟p͟ o͟f͟ m͟y͟ n͟o͟s͟e͟, his voice infused with a smile.

Victor: If that’s the case, I have it easier then. Even without having to be here, I get to see a new side of a certain dummy every single day.

MC: Humph, it’s not like I don’t know how to do anything. Do I really make mistakes that often?

Victor: It’s all thanks to your imagination. You always manage to create unexpected stumbling blocks for yourself.

After Victor has finished setting up the last piece of the soundproofing layer, we organize the tools and do a quick cleanup.

Once everything is done, w͟e͟ l͟e͟a͟n͟ b͟a͟c͟k͟ a͟n͟d͟ l͟a͟y͟ d͟o͟w͟n͟ o͟n͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟l͟a͟n͟t͟e͟d͟ t͟i͟l͟e͟d͟ r͟o͟o͟f͟.

The rays of the setting sun bathe us in its glow, outlining our figures with shades of depth and shallowness reminiscent of the sea’s undulations.

MC: After a day of hustling, taking a rest feels exceptionally comfortable.

Victor: Mhm, the moment right now, it’s very lovely.

From the rooftop, we gaze into the distance, all the way to the far-off horizon. As far as our eyes can see, everything is bathed in the resplendent hues of the setting sun.

The enormous sunset is making its leisurely descent beneath the sea, marking the end of yet another day.

 Everything in this small fishing village unfolds slowly; even the sunset that flits by in an instant in the city seems elongated as if captured in a slow-motion sequence.

MC: I never could have imagined that I would be experiencing life with you in a completely unfamiliar fishing village like this.

MC: I often feel as though this period of time is like a dream.

Victor: We’ve been to different villages and islands in the past. What’s different this time?

I tilt my face to the side and watch him, the twilight casting a golden shade along his jawline.

MC: Even though the previous trips were relaxing, I would always put myself in the shoes of a tourist.

MC: I knew I didn’t belong there because the trips would eventually come to an end, and you and I would return to the familiar rhythm of our work and daily life.

MC: But this time, the magnetic storm has made the date will come sooner or later uncertain.

Victor: Yeah, I know.

Victor: Occasionally, I also have fleeting moments where I get the impression that this is how we were truly meant to live.

MC: Moments such as?

Victor: When cooking, collecting pearls, tidying up the room… in many occasions like that.

Victor’s voice seems as if it’s imbued with twilight, radiating a warm aura.

Victor: Once you are uncertain about what becomes of tomorrow, the weight of being a tourist vanishes.

Victor: So, occasionally being able to experience a life like this–– I quite like it.

MC: I feel the same way too. This is really great.

I shift back, letting my ears be filled with that familiar heartbeat.

MC: Here, we don’t need to worry about the company’s profits and losses, and there’s no pursuit of wealth and fame.

MC: You’re not the CEO of LFG, and I’m not some producer either. I don’t have to secretly worry about you shooting down my proposals.

I hear Victor’s deep chuckle echoing behind me, reaching my ears.

Victor: It sounds like the last part is the main point here. A certain someone just outright said that she could laze around and not have to work here.

MC: That’s not the main point.

Victor: What is it then?

MC: The main point is… I genuinely love this alien yet fascinating life in the fishing village, and the fact that I’m sharing this life with you.

MC: Here, we solve each other’s various small and big troubles that crop up in our daily lives––

MC: Together, we stumble on trivial matters, learn how to solve them, and finally reap the rewards––

MC: And also, “play” together with interesting activities...

My voice softens as the sea breeze whisks away the trailing echoes, guiding our eyes to interlock.

Victor: It goes beyond that.

Victor: This village’s more significant appeal to me is in the feeling that it’s simultaneously small and vast in its essence.

MC: How so?

Victor: Because if I want to find a certain dummy, I can walk through the entire village in less than half an hour.

Victor: But when we want to explore the world beyond, the entire ocean unfolds before us.

His pupils are dyed with the fiery colors of the sunset, transforming into a valley of such depth that they fail my ability to capture in words at this moment.

We gaze at each other for a long, long time, neither of us saying anything, as if the world contains only the two of us––

Lasting for so long that I believed even the setting sun would descend between our locked gazes, sprinkling stars into our eyes.

A soft laugh can’t help but escape my lips as I reach out, resting my hand on Victor’s neck once again.

MC: Since we arrived in this village, I feel like our time no longer belongs to this world.

MC: It’s as if it is a creation of you and me. And only because of us, the rhythm of time alters, sometimes fast and sometimes slow.

Victor: When does it become fast?

MC: Those times that I don’t like, fraught with difficulties.

MC: Like when we have to deal with the water-soaked floor due to leakage, or when we have to fetch water from the well because the water tank is not working.

MC: Because you’re by my side, these troubles that are unfamiliar to us always pass by quickly.

Memories of those hard-pressed moments seem to resurface for Victor, causing a smile to curve on his lips.

MC: So, that’s when a thought occurred to me.

Victor: And what was that?

MC: If you were truly a fisherman on this island, and I had been living in the city all along, I would have definitely chosen to go out to sea on a certain day.

MC: Then, on a sultry summer day or perhaps a rainy night, I would have found myself stranded on this island, where our paths would have crossed.

MC: At that time, I would have undoubtedly been attracted to the “ordinary fisherman” Victor and become an ordinary fishing village man and wife with you.

MC: What I’m trying to say is, no matter where you are or what kind of person you become, as long as it’s you, our trajectories will eventually converge.

–

[Tidbits]: The term MC uses here is “夫妻” (fuqi), which means “married couple”/ “husband and wife.” So, I wanted to keep the essence of MC’s innermost wish~ 🥺

–

My fingertips twitch, as Victor takes my hand and brings it to his lips, planting a kiss on my index finger.

Victor: I believe that.

Victor: So, no matter which possibility it is, I will be here waiting for you.

Victor: However, it’s never been in my principles to wait around passively. If you don’t come soon, I’ll leave this island.

Victor: No matter what I encounter at sea, I will never look back.

MC: Uh…?

The twilight has already begun to dissipate, and the profound darkness of the night seeps in from behind. The final glimmer of twilight casts its light upon Victor’s eyes.

So warm, so radiant–– it’s as if his eyes hold all the unspoken secrets of blazing fervor.

Then he leans in, personally unveiling this secret with the warmth of his lips.

Victor: My principle is to always continue sailing in one direction, knowing that I will inevitably meet my beloved.

The lingering sunset casts its glow upon us, and the fragmented light and shadows intertwine with our profound love and yearning for each other, all submerging together beneath the sea’s surface.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 5, Interwoven Emotions】

[Tidbits]: This is a bonus chapter (equivalent to the memory silhouette in SP MQs), described in the narrator’s POV, comprising moments before Chapter 4~ 🥺

—

Upon receiving an invitation to the village chief’s residence, Victor arrives to find the village chief standing in the courtyard, holding a flat clay jar in one hand.

Village Chief: Mr. Victor, I have already completed the communication process according to your guidance regarding the marketing of pearl farming you facilitated earlier.

Village Chief: Everything went smoothly, and they have agreed to come for a field assessment after the magnetic storm has passed.

The village chief’s aged and weather-beaten face has a tinge of joyful redness as he presents the case forward.

Village Chief: We are truly grateful to you for guiding the path for our little village. Everyone here feels that you two are the real lucky pearls of our island.

Village Chief: This is the finest pearl from our village, consider it as a token of our gratitude. I hope you won’t find it inadequate.

Having concluded his words, the village chief twists open the jar, revealing its contents to Victor.

Inside the box lays a black pearl that could fetch a lavish price at any auction. It absorbs all the ambient light and radiates its luster in an ethereal manner.

H͟o͟w͟e͟v͟e͟r͟, V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ d͟o͟e͟s͟n͟’t͟ h͟a͟r͟b͟o͟r͟ a͟n͟y͟ a͟m͟b͟i͟t͟i͟o͟n͟ t͟o͟ t͟r͟a͟n͟s͟f͟o͟r͟m͟ t͟h͟e͟ f͟a͟t͟e͟ o͟f͟ t͟h͟e͟ P͟e͟a͟r͟l͟ V͟i͟l͟l͟a͟g͟e͟ b͟y͟ h͟i͟m͟s͟e͟l͟f͟. H͟e͟ i͟s͟ m͟e͟r͟e͟l͟y͟ a͟ d͟r͟i͟v͟i͟n͟g͟ f͟o͟r͟c͟e͟, c͟a͟r͟r͟y͟i͟n͟g͟ o͟u͟t͟ a͟ m͟o͟d͟e͟s͟t͟ g͟e͟s͟t͟u͟r͟e͟ w͟i͟t͟h͟ l͟i͟t͟t͟l͟e͟ e͟f͟f͟o͟r͟t͟.

Victor: The partnership is a matter of negotiation, and it’s mainly the outcome of the island’s villagers’ dedicated hard work. There is no need for such a precious gift as thanks.

Village Chief: How can that be! You are the great benefactor of our village, and we must properly thank you regardless of what you say.

Victor: Since it’s like this, let’s opt for a simpler way then.

Victor lifts the corners of his lips, forming a gentle smile.

Victor: Currently, there are no long-distance sea journeys in the village, and the lighthouse appears to be unused. I wonder if you’d be able to let us borrow it for a brief period?

There is no reason to refuse, and Victor quickly receives the key sent by the village chief.

Over the past few days, they have been dining on the dishes prepared by the villagers. Thanks to the unique coastal environment, the ingredients are abundantly fresh, resulting in naturally exquisite flavors.

But he also has a desire to try his hand at cooking in the kitchen himself.

I͟t͟’s͟ n͟o͟t͟ o͟n͟l͟y͟ b͟e͟c͟a͟u͟s͟e͟ t͟h͟e͟ c͟o͟o͟k͟i͟n͟g͟ m͟e͟t͟h͟o͟d͟s͟ i͟n͟ t͟h͟e͟ f͟i͟s͟h͟i͟n͟g͟ v͟i͟l͟l͟a͟g͟e͟ a͟r͟e͟ r͟a͟t͟h͟e͟r͟ s͟p͟e͟c͟i͟a͟l͟, b͟u͟t͟ a͟l͟s͟o͟ b͟e͟c͟a͟u͟s͟e͟ h͟e͟ c͟a͟u͟g͟h͟t͟ w͟i͟n͟d͟ o͟f͟ a͟ c͟e͟r͟t͟a͟i͟n͟ d͟u͟m͟m͟y͟’s͟ i͟n͟a͟d͟v͟e͟r͟t͟e͟n͟t͟ w͟i͟s͟h͟.

According to the plan, he purchases the ingredients and makes arrangements for the next steps of his preparations.

–

Underneath the humble clay stove inside the lighthouse, Victor picks up the few remaining pieces of firewood and gives them a pinch.

Dampened by the overnight rain, the pieces of firewood seem to have lost their efficacy as a fuel source.

Victor: …looks like there are more things I need to try than I initially thought.

After selecting a fresh batch of dry wood, he firmly secures one log and raises the axe in his hand.

He tries to smoothly engage his shoulder muscles to sequentially drive the motion in his arms, and then exerts force in a downward strike with his hands.

Due to long years of usage, the handle of the axe has been worn down. The vibrations transferring from the iron head to the wooden handle c͟a͟u͟s͟e͟ h͟i͟s͟ p͟a͟l͟m͟s͟ t͟o͟ s͟l͟i͟g͟h͟t͟l͟y͟ r͟e͟d͟d͟e͟n͟.

After a while, the rough-shaped logs have transformed into evenly sized pieces of firewood, neatly stacked on one side of the woodshed.

Victor takes a look at the time.

Although it’s not as challenging as he thought it would be, there’s still room for improvement.

With the thoughts of a certain dummy who has no idea about his plans, Victor feels a heightened sense of ease about exploring new territories he has never encountered before.

In the past few days, he has purposely observed the villagers’ cooking techniques so that once he has gathered sufficient examples, he will be able to innovate and improve upon them.

He preserves the distinctive essence of the island’s cuisine but m͟a͟k͟e͟s͟ s͟u͟b͟t͟l͟e͟ m͟o͟d͟i͟f͟i͟c͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟s͟ t͟o͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟a͟s͟t͟e͟s͟ t͟o͟ s͟u͟i͟t͟ h͟e͟r͟ p͟r͟e͟f͟e͟r͟r͟e͟d͟ p͟a͟l͟e͟t͟t͟e͟.

The firewood, ingredients, and cooking utensils for the clay stove are all prepared and ready. Right now, all that’s remained is waiting to bring her here.

As Victor takes in the sight of everything before him, a small yet soft smile graces his lips.

Victor: [I AM IN TEARS, HE IS SO JOYED]  It seems that managing the firewood and controlling the heat for the cauldron might not be as challenging as I initially imagined.

And he is also looking forward to seeing what kind of surprises a certain someone will bring to today’s dinner plan.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 6】

We remain in each other’s arms on the rooftop for a long, long time, until the tangy and moist smell of earth quietly creeps in. A few droplets of water fall onto my body, bringing a sense of both temptation and reminder.

Victor releases me and takes my hand instead.

Victor: It’s raining. Let’s go into the room first.

I nod and follow Victor off the rooftop, running through the sprinkling drizzle and into the health center.

It’s only when inside the room that I can truly experience the effectiveness of the soundproofing layer.

The sound of rain, which originally sounded like drum beats, has now transformed into a soft and somewhat muffled tone as it lands onto the soundproofing layer.

We bring the electric fan over to the edge of the bed to alleviate the sultry heat that accompanies the summer rain, relishing in the precious moments of relaxation.

However, this moment of tranquility lasts for even less than half an hour. After numerous tosses and turns due to the sweltering heat, I eventually get up and leave the small bed.

I walk to the refrigerator and fetch a bottle of chilled water, pouring it into two glasses. With a complacent expression, I raise the glasses at Victor. 

MC: Are you hot? Check out what I’ve got!

Exhilarated, I hand him a glass of cold water, while my peripheral vision catches sight of a basin on the floor containing a clean towel soaking in water.

After taking a sip of the iced water, Victor notices my gaze and arches an eyebrow at me.

Victor: Wiping your body will make you feel cooler and more refreshed.

MC: Oh, yeah! How come I didn’t think of that!

I set the glass down and lean closer to Victor with a beaming smile.

MC: But it’s just too hot. I don’t feel like moving at all. What should I do~

Victor: …want me to do the work for you again?

MC: That’s not it! I’m just here, hot’ly seeking “Vi”... umph!

–

[Anika’s Notes]: Uh, this was a tricky translation LOL. MC actually uses a pun on Victor’s name <热来找“李”> (re lai zhao Li), and his first name is under the quote. What she’s doing here is killing two birds with one stone– requesting “Li Zeyan special service” for the wiping. And for the other implied meaning, she states it explicitly later on LMAO 🤪

–

Before I can finish my sentence, the damp towel in Victor’s hand has already been laid on my body.

The sudden coolness causes me to flinch, and I subconsciously arch my waist. But he firmly holds onto my arm.

Victor: Don’t move.

The cold towel sequentially wipes across my face, neck, and arms… leaving behind a trail of cool moisture embracing every inch of my exposed skin.

A slight quiver runs through me. However, after a brief moment of comfort, the dampness clinging to my skin is no longer a source of pleasantness.

A burning thirst, corroded by restlessness, seems to consume every crevice of my body, as if it were seeping out from the cracks in my bones. I yearn for something more indefinable, a need for something intangible that can bring me solace.

MC: [blushing]  Victor…

I call his name with a lingering intonation, yet Victor simply raises his eyebrows in response.

Victor: Turn around. I can’t wipe your back like this.

Humph!

Seeing that Victor isn’t taking my hints, I take matters into my own hands and pick up the water glass, seizing the opportunity to hide a piece of ice in my palm.

MC: [blushing]  Vic—tor—

Victor: What is it–– hiss!

Victor is startled by my sudden attack, causing his eyebrows to jump. But he swiftly recovers and captures my mischief-making hand.

Victor: Why are you always so mischievous?

I sport a bright grin and squeeze the ice cube in my hand, wearing an innocent expression on my face.

MC: I’m very well-behaved, you see.

MC: Aren’t I also helping CEO Victor cool down this way?

I entertain the thought of mounting another sneak attack as I say this. But as soon as I turn my wrist, Victor’s palm clamps me even harder.

Victor: I don’t need this kind of cooling method.

MC: Huh?

Victor: Because I have a more effective approach.

Before I can grasp the meaning behind his words, I feel a sudden tightening around my waist, causing me to be caught off guard and topple backward.

I let out a short gasp of surprise, only to have it immediately silenced as his lips consume mine.

The ice cube in my hand is too cold and slippery, making it impossible for me to keep hold of it. Victor effortlessly snatches it away from me.

T͟h͟e͟ s͟p͟r͟e͟a͟d͟i͟n͟g͟ i͟c͟y͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟ s͟e͟e͟p͟s͟ i͟n͟t͟o͟ o͟u͟r͟ i͟n͟t͟e͟r͟t͟w͟i͟n͟e͟d͟, s͟c͟o͟r͟c͟h͟i͟n͟g͟ b͟o͟d͟i͟e͟s͟, c͟a͟u͟s͟i͟n͟g͟ m͟e͟ r͟e͟f͟l͟e͟x͟i͟v͟e͟l͟y͟ t͟e͟n͟s͟e͟ u͟p͟. Unable to endure it any longer, I blurt out a plea for surrender.

MC: [blushing]  It’s t-t-too cold, I––

Victor: It’s too late for that.

A second cube of ice comes down, along with his kisses.

I almost want to regret the prank I made just moments ago, as I now find myself t͟r͟a͟p͟p͟e͟d͟ i͟n͟ a͟ c͟r͟o͟s͟s͟f͟i͟r͟e͟ o͟f͟ e͟x͟t͟r͟e͟m͟e͟ c͟o͟l͟d͟ a͟n͟d͟ e͟x͟t͟r͟e͟m͟e͟ h͟e͟a͟t͟, unable to move in the slightest.

–

Creak, creak… the fragile hospital bed emits a series of repetitive protests, as it has been repeating often throughout this period.

The curtain next to the small bed sways high in response to our movements, and then descends gently and tenderly, accompanied by the seductive glow of the dusky rays.

Bathed in the soft, intoxicating light and shadows, Victor gazes at me. The sheet loosely draped over him has slid most of the way down, exposing a body that still bears sunburn marks.

He leans down, pressing his entire body against mine. In the unseen space, his searing palm cradles me, lifting me up.

I find myself hooped between him and the narrow bed, with my hand holding the glass forced to be raised high, circling around his back.

V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ h͟o͟l͟d͟s͟ a͟n͟ i͟c͟e͟ c͟u͟b͟e͟ b͟e͟t͟w͟e͟e͟n͟ h͟i͟s͟ t͟e͟e͟t͟h͟, a͟n͟d͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟e͟n͟s͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟ o͟f͟ c͟o͟o͟l͟n͟e͟s͟s͟ b͟l͟o͟s͟s͟o͟m͟s͟ o͟n͟ m͟y͟ c͟h͟e͟s͟t͟ a͟l͟o͟n͟g͟ w͟i͟t͟h͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟r͟i͟c͟k͟l͟i͟n͟g͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟ d͟r͟o͟p͟l͟e͟t͟s͟.

MC: [blushing and moaning]  Mmm…!

Shivering, I͟ s͟u͟r͟r͟e͟n͟d͟e͟r͟ m͟y͟s͟e͟l͟f͟ t͟o͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟o͟u͟c͟h͟ o͟f͟ h͟i͟s͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟ a͟n͟d͟ a͟l͟l͟o͟w͟ h͟i͟m͟ t͟o͟ s͟l͟o͟w͟l͟y͟ g͟l͟i͟d͟e͟ t͟h͟i͟s͟ i͟c͟y͟, w͟e͟t͟ s͟e͟n͟s͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟ a͟c͟r͟o͟s͟s͟ m͟y͟ b͟o͟d͟y͟.

And this mildly stinging coldness also impels me to hold him even tighter.

The temperature gradually climbs as our bodies intertwine, intensifying the already intoxicating and enchanting ambiance.

It’s only when the translucent ice has completely melted into an ambiguous tide of water that Victor finally speaks, his voice tinged with a husky tone.

Victor: …still want to provoke me more?

I tilt my face up and stare at him in a daze, finding his eyes radiating with a satisfied and sly glow.

I incline my right hand slightly, and the iced water from the glass spills out, landing on his back.

MC: [blushing]  Does this count as another act of provocation… mmph!

Victor doesn’t let me speak any further and firmly clamps my chin, using his lips and tongue to block the smile I couldn’t suppress.

Victor: Of course it does.

Just as I’m about to seize this brief opportunity to speak, another kiss cuts me off again.

Victor: After all, I’m merely an ordinary person now, and I don’t have to be so reasonable.

Victor: So, from now until the break of dawn, there will be no more pardoning for any of your actions.

The heat of his burning love submerges me, drowning out each of my futile attempts to plead my case.

Outside the room, a corner of the sky clears up, and the rosy blush of the sunset climbs up the window, sneakily peering into the bewitching scene inside.

The subtle patter of rain has completely dissipated at some point, but we are too caught up in our own world to notice.

Engulfed in the nearly dizzying collisions, we fill each other’s souls to the brim with only the resonance and whispers of this moment.

I feel as though I have transformed into a pearl calm, being picked up by Victor from that shimmering shallow beach——

M͟o͟s͟t͟ w͟i͟l͟l͟i͟n͟g͟l͟y͟, I͟ s͟u͟r͟r͟e͟n͟d͟e͟r͟ a͟l͟l͟ m͟y͟ l͟i͟n͟e͟s͟ o͟f͟ d͟e͟f͟e͟n͟s͟e͟ f͟o͟r͟ h͟i͟m͟, l͟a͟y͟i͟n͟g͟ b͟a͟r͟e͟ m͟y͟ r͟a͟w͟e͟s͟t͟ b͟e͟a͟u͟t͟y͟ b͟e͟f͟o͟r͟e͟ h͟i͟m͟.

Thereupon, all the gullies of yearnings and restless desires are finally quenched as they are engulfed by a mountainous tsunami——

— before finding solace in the serene tranquility of bliss.

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[Tidbits]: The phrase used here is “山呼海啸”, which literally translates to “mountains calling and seas roaring.” The idiomatic phrase conveys the idea of an event that is extremely grand, extraordinary, or of significant magnitude, evoking a sense of intense impact or overwhelming force.

[Anika’s Notes]: Yeah, good thing it was an abandoned health center and there weren’t people at least in the vicinity LMAO. Hats-off to the writers for one of the most intensely vivid and beautiful sex scenes writing I’ve ever read in my little life LOL— the blend of profound love, intense zeal, raw passion-- yet not losing the sense of reverence~ ❤️

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【My two cents, feel free to ignore LOL】

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