#if wang is always the talk of the town in class a | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daemour · 7 months ago

Text

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees. You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

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accio-victuuri · 3 years ago

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Wang Yibo : excerpts from his Global People Magazine feature December 2020. 📒

Wang Yibo’s busy schedule began in November. He has already entered the filming of the new drama, traveling through the various scenes of the town and Photo studio. Non-stop, is the word to describe Wang Yibo on the day of our interview.

The state of the game couldn't be more appropriate: Get up in the morning, join the group for shooting; keep shooting. By 4 o'clock in the afternoon, rushed to the studio, unloaded the costumes, redoed the styling, and accepted Interview; at 7 o'clock, remove makeup again, do styling again, continue shooting... When the reporter left for the interview, he was still surrounded by lights.

In fact, this is not Wang Yibo's special "day". The so-called "popularity" started in 2018. This rhythm has become his "everyday”. Few artists of the same age have so many identities like him, singers, actorand professional motorcycle racer.The costumes in the crew, the performance costumes on the show, the racing suits during the competition, The clothes in the interview...he has to change a lot of clothes and do a lot of work every day. It has become "Wang Yibo" in different forms.

Almost every reporter who interviewed him would ask him: "Are you tired?"

He always replied calmly: "Not tired, it's okay." Then this topic is over. It's not entirely because he talks less, but he really feels "okay",

The interview mentioned a lot of questions about whether it’s tiring or not, whether it’s suffering, or whether it’s painful or not. He always tried to think about it, and then gave a negative answer.

He tells you with his eyes: these are all normal experiences, not worth complaining.

Wang Yibo has the deepest impression this year. It's the police uniform, which he wore when filming the TV series "Being A Hero". This is the first time he starred in a criminal investigation drama, and also the first time he put on a police uniform.

As a film and television work focusing on anti-drug police,It has complicated story lines, gun battles, undercover agents, secret battles...Chen Yu, an anti-drug policeman played by Wang Yibo, needs to stand firm in the dark and desperate situation.

This is Wang Yibo's first in-depth understanding of the police class of anti-drug police. Before filming, he had already watched the relevant documentary once and learned how to hold a gun and use a gun. They also visited some anti-drug police officers on the spot.

"Because I have been observing on the front line, I can deeply feel the anti-drug police. It’s state of high tension. It is very hard and dangerous. I realized the greatness of this police class. "Wang Yibo said.

And this state of tension also runs through the filming of the whole show to its finale.Director Fu Dongyu is a veteran of this kind of subject matter. Although "BAH" is a criminal investigation drama, the entire crew is in A very quiet creative state.

On his birthday, the director arranged a celebration. "Since emotions were brewing from the beginning, and when shooting,(..)

I feel like I’ve never cried like this since I started shooting. I cried out my feelings. After the filming of this scene, I suddenly got a sigh of relief.”

From trainee to actor

He has a typical and has slight different "Idol Birth Road". He has a solid foundation in stage performance. In his words, there are many ways to realize self-worth. All paths require the purest wants and purest pursuits.

In Wang Yibo's memories, the two words that impressed the most from his childhood—- It is independence, and the second is dance. Because his parents are busy at work, he has been in elementary school for five years.

"When I was young, I learned Breaking requires stretching, It hurts, but I never cried. At that time, I felt that dancing was my thing: It's a relaxing way, I really enjoy the process of immersing in music. "

In 2000, Wang Yibo came to Beijing for the first time. People come and go in Beijing West Railway Station in winter, which also opened up his position as a professional. The prologue to the life of a professional artist. After signing the contract, his parents stayed with him for two days before rushing back to his hometown in Luoyang and moving to a dormitory, tidy up the room, have a light meal, the three of them went on separate ways. For more than 3 years, Wang Yibo studied and trained abroad and lived in a foreign land.

"What is the hardest thing about being in a foreign country at such a young age?"

"I don't think there is anything difficult, it's all okay. Tired is for sure, Because I train every day, but I don’t think about many other things. "

But the road to popularity still seems to be long. What really made him walk into the sight of the public, was joining "Day Day Up", in the dormant stage of his career.

"Day Day Up" is a very good opportunity,I have met many outstanding people from all walks of life that I don't usually have access to. "

On the other hand, that was also the stage when Wang Yibo sought a personal breakthrough. Wang Yibo can only ask other seniors for advice, Wang Han joked: "Yibo is my biggest baggage."

Gradually, Wang Yibo realized that the real "use" of oneself does not mean that he should be on the stage. “I found that I don't really need to talk, those brothers can all say, I should have a new role.” In the show, Wang Yibo became the dancer in charge, acting in charge, and occasionally also serving as a Korean translator. In two years, a brand-new Wang Yibo was created.

The "Boom" of "Chen Qing Ling" made Wang Yibo popular and famous. In A program recording, Wang Han asked him what exactly did such "fire" bring? Da Zhangwei said more bluntly: "Wang YiBo has achieved the state that all artists yearn for. "

He bowed his head and thought for a long time, and said: "There are good and bad." The good is obvious. It is easy to see that he has become a top artist, and his influence is different from the past, every move becomwsthe focus, and the script and resources are never interrupted. But all this makes him more moves with caution and calmness, he frankly told the reporter of "Universal People": " there is more and more attention, many eyes are on you. For you, you must do better and better. I won't be big by myself. there are psychological fluctuations. I still do the same things as before, continue to host and continue filming. " The louder the outside voice, the quieter the inner voice, this is his present philosophy of life. Fortunately, he still has many outlets, such as dancing, skateboarding, and racing.

#wang yibo #yizhan

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finnyboywolfhard · 3 years ago

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Gross

Richie Tozier x Reader

summary: Y/N likes Richie so much its gross.

Inspiration: Gross by Olivia Rodrigo

warnings: literally just pure fluff, cursing we know who this is about

word count: 2.1k

The bass was heavy and loud, the people were insufferably packed together. Y/N was a really good friend, or so she kept telling herself, for coming to this party just to appease Bev. Ever since they met at a bookstore, they had gotten really close-despite living in two different towns. Y/N maneuvered her way through the swarm of people. She turned the corner into the living room and spotted her red headed friend in the corner alongside the group, she had heard called themselves ‘The Losers Club’. Her elbows starting jamming into people as she finally crossed the threshold of people and practically fell into the arms of one, Richie Tozier.

“Well, well, well. It appears that you’ve fallen for me.” Y/N let out a chuckle at the response. His brown eyes, goofy little grin and messy, curly hair did manage to melt her heart just a little bit in that moment.

“So, Y/N, you’ve met Richie.” Bev said as she pulled her from Richie’s arms and into a hug. The two stand swaying for a second before Y/N releases herself from the hug. She couldn’t help but notice the six set of eyes staring at her.

“Jesus guys, would it kill you to interact with her instead of stare.” Bev pulled Y/N’s back to her chest and looked toward the group. “You guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Ben, Bill, Mike, Stan, Eddie and Richie.” She pointed at each one as they were introduced.

“Ni-Ni-Nice to me-meet you, Y/N.” Bill said waving to her. Y/N and the group got acquainted a little before they all started breaking off in sections, leaving Richie and Y/N alone.

“Hey.” Y/N said breaking the awkward ‘silence’. “I don’t know this house at all, could you guide me to the kitchen for something to drink?”

“Of course m’lady.” He said taking on one of his many accents. He lightly grabbed her hand and dragged her through some people and into the kitchen. The girl somehow found a water bottle amidst the copious amounts of alcohol.

“Come on, not even one drink?” Richie said leaning in to shout over the music, their faces coming extremely close.

“No sir, I have to drive home tonight. Who’s your lucky DD?”

“Stan the Man Uris.” Richie slurred together slightly. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t quite sober either. Y/N let out an ‘Ah’ in response. She noticed how many eyes were now spent looking at her and Richie.

“Hey Richie?”

“Yes my darling angel?” The nickname made her blush, but she had a bigger thing to focus on.

“Why is every girl in the room staring at you?”

“Oh…Uhh…well you see, I made a joke to some gullible ass freshman that I had a 12 inch wang and he’s started telling everyone. Now the class clown is somehow becoming the class arm candy. I just want it to stop.”

“What if we made them stare for another reason?”

“You got an idea?”

“Two, first off how do you feel about slapping?”

“Please don’t slap me.”

“Okay, what about pretending we’re gonna go hook up?”

“Now we don’t have to pretend if you don’t want to-“ She shoved his arm.

“Richie, do you want it to stop or not?”

“What should I do?”

“I’m gonna get really, really close.” She said as she pressed her body flush with his. Her face was centimeters away from his, she pulled his face down so that she could whisper into his ear. “Now wrap your arms around my waist and pull me closer. Start talking about something random and just ignore what I am doing.” She pulled back just slightly as to start making eye contact. Her stomach was a flutter with butterflies and the proximity. His arms wrapped around her and snuggly brought her closer to him. He began jabbering about something stupid Eddie had said earlier that day about your hand getting chopped off while it’s out the car window. To sell the point to ones close enough to see, which considering how dense the party was was a lot of people, she kept glancing between his eyes and his lips while he was talking. After a few minutes past, she pulled him down to whisper again.

“Is it working?” She watched as his eyes lightly glazed the room and shook his head no. She cursed to herself. Richie’s eyes lit up with an idea, and his arms squeezed her tighter into him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Richie leaned down to whisper into her ear. He leans back and Y/N shakes her head yes. He gently grabs her chin and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. They stay kissing for a brief span before pulling apart. He leaned into her ear and said “If I get you to the front door, can we go out to your car?” All Y/N did in response was grab his hand. He lead her to the door, and she led him the rest of the way. Once they get to her car, she lets her head fall against the headrest on the seat.

“Oh my god it’s so much nicer out here.” She let out with a chuckle.

“You can say that again.” Richie said in the same manner. “Thank you for back there by the way, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.”

“Oh yeah, no worries. What should we do about Bev and the boys?”

“I figured that when they can’t find us, they’ll come looking. In the meantime, we could hangout…that is if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Y/N said with a beaming smile. And from that day on, they hung out as much as they physically could. Their weird fake relationship blossomed into a wonderful friendship and then a very real relationship. For nearly 3 months, the pair had seen each other at least five times in a week. Whether that meant Richie driving the 45 minutes to her or vice versa. It was a lot, and it was expensive but they didn’t care. They were having fun and loving where they were.

Y/N was hanging a new photo of her and Richie on her wall by her bed, as Richie watched idly on her bed. His eyes wandered around the walls and furniture at all the different photos and keepsakes she had kept. While most of the photos were of either him, or the two together, he didn’t feel narcissistic in loving how her room looked. He loved it just because it was hers.

“So tell me my darling angel, how was school today?”

“Fine.”

“No Y/N. We’re not doing this bullshit today. What happened?”

“Nothing, just this dumb bitch Penelope C.”

“God, I hate that Penelope C piece of shit.” He said, matching her same angered tone.

“Rich, you don’t even know her babe.”

“I trust your opinion of her, if you hate her, I fucking despise her.” Y/N grabbed her boyfriends face wasting no time in making out with him. She pulls back and just looks at him stunned.

“Why was that the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me?”

“What can I say? I know what drives the ladies crazy.”

“I’m sure of it.” She said sarcastically. Richie did his signature puppy dog eyes, and her icy heart was thawed. She gave him one more peck to the lips, and then began placing pecks scattered all over his face. He grabbed her by her hips and flipped her to be beneath him. He began tickling her relentlessly. Her laughter filled the room, yet also drained her. She pried him off of her. The two lay side by side, heads turned to make eye contact.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/N.” Richie said. Y/N moved her head closer and gave him one more soft kiss.

Music softly filled the car. Richies hand was placed gently in Y/N’s lap, his thumb absentmindedly grazes her leg. Her eyes were wandering, looking at each driveway, house, mailbox and road. One day, hopefully, her and Richie would be driving to their own house. They would pull into the driveway and go inside to see their pets or their kids. Her future with him seemed bright. A wide smile creeped across her face as did a light blush.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Richie said, glancing away from the road to look at her.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“You were thinking about me huh?”

“Yeah…” Y/N said embarrassed.

“Tell me all the dirty little details, my darling angel.” He said cockily, smirking towards the road.

“Ugh, Richie don’t be gross. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“I’m sorry, but is it so hard to believe that my hot girlfriend is thinking about her incredibly sexy boyfriend?”

“Oh shut the hell up.” She said through her laughter. He started faintly laughing with her.

“What were you really thinking about?”

“Just about what it would be like to have a future together. And what it would be like to drive to a home of our own with things of our own.”

“You really want a future with me?”

“Of course I do.”

“I can’t wait for it then.” He said smiling, transferring his hand from her thigh to her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze. They drove in comfortable silence for a moment, before Y/N had the idea to stir the pot.

“Oh and Richie?”

“Yeah?”

“Think of all the sex we could have in a house of our own.” She said with a smirk as they pulled into her driveway.

Bev wandered around Y/N’s room as she was chaotically putting away her laundry all over her room.

“Jesus, everywhere I turn, there’s Richie.” Bev said breaking the silence, making Y/N giggle to herself. “You really like that dumbass don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” Y/N stopped for a moment to think about Richie Tozier before continuing,“I can’t help but think and talk about him all the time. He makes me feel so safe and loved, and he always makes me laugh harder than anyone else. I want everything from him- the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I want to tell him everything about my day and i want to hear about the trivial shit he talks about like the traffic coming to see me or what bill did at lunch that day. I like him so so much. I lo-love him.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda gross.” Bev joked with Y/N. “I’m happy for ya Y/N/N, as annoying as he is, he is a really good guy.”

“God, he is so annoying… but it’s kinda why I love him.” The girls continued their night as planned, but the thoughts of how Y/N felt about Richie never left.

As soon as Bev left her house early the next morning, she hopped in her car and went over to Richie’s house. Bev always had to leave super early because of her dad, so Y/N knew she couldn’t just knock on the Tozier’s door. She climbed her way up a tree and across some of Richie’s roof in order to knock on his window. A shirtless and boxer clad Richie came the window groggily.

“What are you doing here darling angel? It’s fucking 7 am.” He said, rubbing his eyes and through a yawn.

“I just really gotta talk to you.” His eyes widened at that sentence. He ushered her in and onto his bed. She sat for a few seconds and then stood up to pace a small line.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Richie said.

“I just…I like you so much it’s gross.” Y/N said looking right at him. “And you were right.” She said with a roll of the eyes and a light stamp of her foot.

“What? What do you mean ‘I’m right’?”

“That very first night we met, hell the very first moments we met. You were right, I did fall for you.”

“Y/N…” Richie said quietly, coming up to bring his body flush to hers, just the moment at the party.

“I love you Richie.”

“I love you so fucking much Y/N.” He said, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N sure was glad he was the one she gave her heart to.

#richie tozier #richie toizer x reader #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie toizer imagine

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filterjeons · 4 years ago

Text

private show | jjk

✦ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

✦ summary: throughout your relationship, you never thought jungkook would ask a certain type of action from you. however, you take it into consideration...without the intention of him nearly catching you

✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors

✦ genre: smut

✦ word count: 7.4k

✦ warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, tsundere!reader, rough & unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!!), dirty talk, degradation bc im a whore for that, masterbation, voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial

Honestly, you didn’t know what you did in your past life to earn a man like Jungkook but you weren’t complaining one bit anyways. By just one look at you, people assumed you weren’t the type to have a boyfriend and you would spend the rest of your life alone. Luckily, you managed to prove them all wrong by being with someone who loved you for the way you were instead of your money.

It was a blessing and a curse to be born into a rich family of doctors who expected you to be the heir of the family hospital. Despite having your future already planned for you, you fell in love with playing the violin after being introduced to it when you were young. The feeling of holding the violin against your jaw as the bow ran across the strings to produce a classical melody that you’ve familiarized yourself with throughout the years.

You would much rather be at a violin recital in a beautiful dress playing one of Bach’s sonatas than being cooped up in your room studying biology. However, your parents didn’t feel the same way.

When you were about 6, you ranked second at a competition against tons of kids who were in their later-preteens but that wasn’t enough to prove to your parents how much you loved music. They took it as a sign of failure because “it’s not being first” and always used that argument against you to emphasize on how you have to be at the top of your class.

“Mommy! Guess what, I got second place! Second out of a bunch of bigger kids! I didn’t expect-” you squealed, kicking the back of the limo’s glass partition. Instead of candy, you were buzzing with excitement due to how well you placed in your county’s music recital. But what you didn’t know was that even a place close to first was never enough. “Why didn’t you get first?”

As those words ran through your ears, you felt your blood run cold and the eyes that were dancing of excitement and joy started to dull. You clutched your certificate tightly, tears starting to swell up.

“That’s because there was a sixth grader who was better than me and she was really good, she can play the piano-” “You see, if you can’t get first then you shouldn’t pursue a career in music. It’s too hard and competitive for you anyways. How about you focus on your studies, especially since you’re going to take over the hospital when you’re older.”

Up until last year which was your freshman year of college, you obeyed them by devoting your time to studying and only treating music as just a hobby while you hide your feelings along the way. Now that you think about it, you barely had friends during high school since every break period, you were always alone in the music room and you were too stubborn to go up to people. The only reason why you would talk to someone is to work on a group project but it ended up being that you would do all of the work while they slack off.

Everyday felt dull and uninteresting, especially since you’re being put in a fate that you don’t even want. But like some stupid cliche, it all changed ever since you met him.

You didn’t even intend to meet him, hell you barely knew he existed. But the night of your chemistry midterm, the apartment next to you decided to have a party which most of the school is invited to and blast loud music that could be heard from the next town over.

It couldn’t get any worse as you were already stressed from college and your parent’s crazy expectations and you were definitely not failing otherwise you’re dead meat. Normally, you would just try to sleep it out with earplugs but since you barely ate anything but coffee and granola bars and you were tired from the 24 hour studying, that was your last straw. So you did the thing a person would do in your situation: marching over to the party in your purple star-printed nightgown to give them a piece of your mind.

Already at the door, you could feel people’s stares burn into you, due to why you came to the party when you didn’t bother interacting with people and why you were in your pajamas. Maybe people were going to talk about you on Instagram but you didn’t care, you just wanted to ensure that you have enough sleep so you could at least pass.

Unfortunately for you, you must’ve looked extremely stupid because you were wandering around the same area like a drunk man. Random people did offer to get you a drink but you declined; after all it was a school night. Eventually you gave up trying to even bother talking after seeing the host, local frat boy Jackson Wang, surrounded by the rest of the partygoers in a beer pong game.

Frustrated and exhausted, you hauled yourself up to a seemingly empty room and collapsed onto the bed. Not only did you enter a college party in your pajamas but you wasted precious time studying over something idiotic like this. With all of these negative emotions inside of you, screaming inside a pillow was the first thing that came into your mind. And unfortunately, someone had to be the witness of your near mental breakdown.

“Woah, is everything okay?” a velvety voice chuckled, patting your back slightly. Well, another reason why your night is absolute shit. You turned your face up to chew off the mysterious person but for some reason, your voice was all caught up in your throat.

He was different, different from all of the boys that ever interacted with you. Despite you being a complete loner, the guys in your high school tried to hook up with you but you were never interested. They stunk of axe and the only reason why they’re “popular�� is because they were on a sports team. Besides, you were too busy in your academics to even think about dating.

You couldn’t really see him but the guy who’s in the room with you looks better than every single guy in your high school combined: his long dark hair in a mini-ponytail contrasting with his cute bunny-like face.

“Wh-who are you?” “Jeon Jungkook. I’m a member of the boxing team and my family owns a records shop downtown. What about you?”

“I-i-” “Aren’t you Y/N, the smart girl who doesn’t talk to anybody and spends her time either studying or in the music room with her violin?” Thank god the room is dark because your face was burning up badly. Barely anyone knew you and if they did, they had bad things to say about you because you were so quiet and boring. However, what he said was a fact and you shouldn’t blame him for having an impression on you due to what other people said. It hurted nonetheless though, especially since he was a part of a sports team.

“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want? If it’s homework answers, then fine!” you snapped, immediately standing up and walking away. You were absolutely done with this night, all you wanted to do is sleep so you have some sanity tomorrow.

“You sure are feisty. It’s cute,” he said with a cocky grin stuck on his face. Oh, how you wanted to slap it off.

“If you’re asking me out, I’m not interested!” you fought back. Although you were one step out of the door, something about him made you want to stay. Like you wanted to talk to him.

“I didn’t say anything about that but if you want it that way-”

“No! I-I’m sorry for acting all rude, I’m just having a really bad night and I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone,” you mumbled, turning on the light. Oh how it was a bad idea..

Now that you could really see his face clearly, your heart felt like it was about to explode. He was dressed in a simple all-black T-shirt and jeans with combat boots to match. What really captivated you were the tattoos on his hand and up to his elbow, each symbol and design etched out beautifully which must’ve taken hours.

Although you were at least wearing clothes, you felt exposed due to the stupid pajamas you have on. He somehow sensed your embarrassment and gave you a small smirk which made it ten times worse.

“Well, do you want to explain why you were screaming in a pillow earlier?” Normal you definitely wouldn’t spill her feelings to a hot guy she just met five minutes ago but with him, you felt safe. Like for one night, all your worries and feelings are immediately gone and it’s just you and him.

Was this the stupid shit they call “love at first sight”?

“My midterm is tomorrow and I can’t sleep from all of the noise so I came here to yell at the host of the party. Jackson Wang, fuck you and your decision to host a party today,” you sighed, settling yourself next to him. You would expect him to immediately laugh and make fun of you since it was something a lot of people did to you whenever you cared about your grades. Instead, he looked at you with understandment and listened to what you had to say.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I went to this stupid party in the first place,” he replied, making you snort out a laugh. As you were trying to collect yourself from his statement, Jungkook’s mouth turned up into a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect that. Anyways, I guess I should get going since I have a big day ahead of me,” you smiled, feeling a small weight being lifted off of your shoulders. As you trudge out the door, Jungkook’s arm stops yours for a second.

“Do you think I can have your phone number? Not for dating but you sound like a really cool person to be around and no offense but you seem lonely.” “Thanks for the compliment. But here you go,” you said sarcastically, scribbling down your phone number on a random piece of stationary in the drawer next to the bed. Maybe this is all a fever dream, maybe you’re hallucinating due to how little sleep you’ve gotten during midterm week.

“I’ll see you soon…” he waved you goodbye as you gave a final look at the door. He was interesting but now isn’t the time to be distracted! You’re pretty sure that if you pinch yourself, you’ll be back in your dorm since this is just a dream? “Also, d-don’t take it the wrong way! It’s not like I like you or anything! I just wrote down my number because you asked nicely! We’re never going to date!” Not only did you pass your midterm but your last line to Jungkook in the stuffy college party would become your famous last words.

It’s been years since you and Jungkook met at that party and a lot has changed then. You started to grow feelings and date him a few weeks after your midterm, eventually making the relationship official in a month. After a few months into dating, he introduced his parents to you first. They were a sweet family with amazing home cooked meals which you were dying to recreate and luckily, they accepted you with open arms.

However, him meeting your parents wasn’t that smooth. Now that you look back on that day, not only were you permanently deciding to be with the one that you love but it also felt like you were breaking free out of the shell that your parents trapped you in because you didn’t want to go down the path they set for you.

You shook your head to yourself, not wanting to be reminded of the painful past. Now, you were a violinist playing in recitals and companies and Jungkook was running his parent’s record shop. You were happy and you didn’t care about what your stupid parents think. They can simply ask someone else to run the hospital and it’ll still be fine.

As soon as the practice track ended, you turned off the metronome and packed your violin away. The apartment that you and Jungkook shared was average-sized, a notable difference from the mansion you used to live in but it was better. You were with the person you love and that’s all you could ever need. It may sound corny but a simple life with him was all you ever wanted.

After you pack away your violin, you impatiently wait alongside the door for Jungkook to get home. Right now, he has boxing practice for a match next week and he wanted to stay with his teammate Taehyung to be the best that he can but he’s stopping by for a day. You’re not into boxing but like the good girlfriend you were, you attend most of his matches (some conflicted with your performances) and cheer him on.

Although you miss having him by your side, you’re also aware of how much boxing means to him as it was a break from the hectic life of owning a music store. Another positive in your new life was the amount of music there was, a good break from the science and math that filled your childhood.

You heard some jiggling among the door locks and surely enough, Jungkook’s handsome face was in your view. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt and some blue jeans, a very simple outfit after spending most of his time at the boxing gym.

“Hey baby,” he cooed, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“Hi. I’m so happy you’re back, I was starting to worry that you forgot about me,” you joked, carrying his boxing bag to your shared bedroom with him tagging behind.

“You know I would never forget about you,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the back of your neck. Instead of wriggling away like you normally do, you allow yourself to relish in his affection since he wasn’t a person who did it often.

“I missed you..” you mumbled, turning around and kissing him. He returned the kiss more passionately, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The sudden action made you forget about everything, focusing only on him. Unfortunately, with your senses locked on him, it caused you to fall onto the bed, your head nearly hanging off of the edge. Jungkook used your weakness to have more control over the kiss and you, carefully grabbing the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Even though he always controls kissing you, his lips are also full of love and longing due to him being gone for too long.

“God I missed this,” he mumbled, breaking away to remove the buttons of your blouse and kissing the side of your neck. You whined from his touch, feeling a bit embarrassed due to how much time it’s been since the two of you were together.

“What is it baby girl, are you nervous? Come on, we’ve known each other for years and I know you can take anything I give you.” It was true of course but for some reason, it felt like the first time you had sex with him.

After your shirt has been taken off, you unconsciously cover your chest with your arms. You didn’t know why you’re acting so self-conscious, especially since you’ve been a challenger to him in bed.

“Hey, are you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to-” Jungkook asked softly, reaching over to take your hand.

What’s there to be nervous about? It’s just Jungkook and like he said, you’ve known him for too long. Besides, don’t you have too much pride to act this way? You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked back at him with a seductive smile.

“You were taking too long to take off my shirt. How boring,” you said coyly, tapping his nose playfully. He returned your gaze, his eyes darkened with lust and desire.

“Well then baby girl, how about you take off the rest of your clothes since you seem like you want to do it,” he muttered, sitting up with his attention completely on your chest. One thing you were infamous in your relationship for is being a brat, a mix of you being submissive but not backing down completely. Even though you liked being a good girl sometimes, the rest is just you on the receiving end. After all, you won’t back down to a challenge, nonetheless if your challenger’s your significant other.

If a person only based off of what they saw, they would think that you were the one taking absolute control due to the aura you give off and your harsh personality. However, at least between you and him since you were one to keep your private life a secret, he is the one with the reins and you were completely fine with it.

You unclipped your bra, throwing it at some random place in the room and revealed your exposed breasts. He ogled at your body up and down, his familiar lustful gaze running through his eyes.

“Hey, what are you staring at?” you barked, slowly starting to feel awkward. Unlike you, Jungkook had no shame when it came to your bedroom activities and there were times when he would just stare at you while you’re completely bare. How embarrassing...but it’s no big deal.

“Watch your mouth you little brat. Do I have to punish you on my day back?” he said darkly, his tone immediately making the back of your hairs stand up. Your face softened, heat forming in your cheeks as you twirled a random piece of your hair, a random habit that you’ve done since elementary school.

“I-I’m sorry.” “Sorry what, baby girl? You’re smarter than that.” “Sorry..sir.” After that word was uttered in your soft and obedient tone, Jungkook could feel his dick growing harder by the second. Hearing you give up all of your confidence and letting him control you never failed to turn him on.

“Now take off the rest of your clothes, sweetie. Or are you going to continue being a dumb little girl and keep playing with me,” he growled softly, leaning back on the bed frame. You felt like acting up some more but he truly was scary when he’s upset and you didn’t want to make his visit back bad because of your behavior so you simply did what he said. Even though you wouldn’t admit it to the world, you also love obeying Jungkook.

You quickly unzippered your jeans, pulling them off along with your panties and kicking them out of the bed. The warmth from the clothes were immediately replaced by the chilly air from the air conditioner, your nipples standing up and goosebumps filling your body. It was humiliating, especially since Jungkook can see you so clearly.

“My precious sweetheart,” he cooed, leaning over you and you could feel his hardened member alongside the roughness of his jeans as he slowly grinded into you.

“Ahh…” You didn’t know what to say, except you knew you wanted more. Jungkook’s mouth was latched onto your nipples, sucking them harshly while his other hand was massaging and flicking on them repeatedly. You felt your eyes roll back to your head and your pussy dampening, even though he wasn’t doing anything yet.

“You like this baby?” he asked gruffly, tugging on your nipple teasingly as it sends sparks of pleasure inside you. You only let out a whine in response as he broke apart from your chest and slowly made his way down your body.

All of a sudden, he inserted one of his long fingers inside of your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. You squealed from the intrusion as your body tried to familiarize itself with his finger, your walls clenching around his digit.

“Damn, have you gotten tighter since last time?” He started to thrust his finger in and out of you at a moderate pace, trying to get you used to the feeling. As if one isn’t enough for you, he suddenly inserted a second one to stretch you out.

Your mind was a haze, not paying attention to anything that was happening around you and focusing on the pleasure that Jungkook was giving you. His fingers attempted to reach the spongy section of your g-spot, the place that absolutely had you in hysterics. Surely enough, his fingertips grazed over it and you could nearly come undone at any second.

While he added an additional finger and completely filled you up, you could feel his smooth tongue on your clit, flicking and sucking on it feverishly. High-pitched moans and mewls were coming out of your mouth embarrassingly as you tugged on Jungkook’s long locks in order to steady yourself of the pleasure.

You could feel him curl his fingers and touch your g-spot, sending sparks within you. At this point, you were barely in a stable mindset due to how good he was making you feel. You felt a knot building up in your stomach, your orgasm coming close to you.

“Are you gonna cum now baby girl? Do you want to cum for Sir? Yeah, I know you do, I could feel it coming,” he said tauntingly, his fingers and tongue abusing your cunt and the vibrations among it made the sensation feel even better.

“Y-yeah, I’m gonna-” you whimpered pathetically but to your dismay, he completely stopped by sliding his fingers out and removing his face. With your release dismissed like it was nothing, you felt annoyance build up on you as your body shook from the denial.

“What the hell? Why did you stop?” you groaned, your eyes shooting sharp daggers at Jungkook. If looks could kill, he would surely be dead within two seconds. But all that’s on his face were your liquids and a cocky smirk that you want to wipe off instantly.

“Because I want you to cum on my dick first. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside you, y’know?” he said casually, pulling off his shirt like it was nothing and revealing his impressive 6-pack. One thing that you were always in awe of was his figure. Jungkook was a really athletic person, always finding time out of his day to work out and maintain his muscular body. You didn’t mind if he didn’t have abs but it neutralized his cute face that could easily kill anyone.

“It’s been a while, yeah? You ready kitten?” Jungkook kicked off his jeans and his boxer that covers his massive bulge was immediately in your vision. You could feel your thighs rubbing together as you were craving him inside you.

“You’re calling me kitten now?” you mumbled shyly as he sat on the edge of the bed, palming his hardened member.

“Yeah because you’re my cute kitty, aren’t you? Do you want to take off my boxers for me?” he smirked, knowing how excited you are to see him like this again. Like there was no tomorrow, you yanked it off impatiently and his dick sprang out, hitting his abs before standing up instantly.

“You’re excited, aren’t you? Don’t deny it,” Jungkook teased, stroking his member teasingly before setting you down on your back and hovering above you.

“I want it,” you mumbled impatiently, getting excited with the thought of him fucking you until you can’t walk again. He chuckled at your reaction, slowly slipping himself inside you. You shrieked from the sudden movement and tried to make yourself comfortable even though this wasn’t new to you.

“Alright baby, let’s go,” he said gruffly, slowly pulling out and slamming it back inside within the next five seconds. You let out a scream as he picked up the pace into the all-too familiar rough and fast one.

“Damn, you’ve gotten way tighter since the last time I’ve fucked your brains out. Feels so good for Sir,” he groaned, his dick completely filling you warm and deep to the point where it could nearly reach your guts. “Does my baby like that? Like getting dicked down where I can feel her in your stomach?” “Ahh, oh my god!” You could only moan and whine in response, pathetic noises coming out of your mouth as Jungkook’s dick hit every surface of your pussy. His veins already made it even more pleasurable and you could feel the tip grazing upon your g-spot, making you even more sensitive.

It hasn’t been long but embarrassingly, you could feel your orgasm arrive once again due to how good his dick was thrusting into you. As he continued to drill your abused cunt, you could feel your legs tremble at the sensitive feeling and the impending sensation of your orgasm starting to grow in your core.

“S-sir, oh my god-” you mewled as Jungkook used his force to flip you on your stomach, your face covered in the pillows. You couldn’t feel him inside you for a second but suddenly, he slammed inside you with no remorse and continued fucking you at that fast pace.

Your cunt throbs as you prepare yourself to cum all over his dick. Jungkook could sense it too by the way your walls started to tighten around him, making it even more pleasurable than the last time you two had sex due to how tight you were. You were praying that he doesn’t deny your orgasm again but there were times where he was that cruel. But you’ve behaved enough to not warrant that type of treatment.

“Is my baby gonna cum now? Go on, come for me, I want to see you come undone on my dick,” he chanted lowly, his pace fastening due to his orgasm coming in soon. Like his words set off a reaction inside you, you screamed out his name and squirted on his dick and stomach. Using that as fuel to keep going, Jungkook thrusts even faster than before to catch his own high as you try to calm yourself down from your own orgasm.

“Ahh, Jungkook-” you whined from the sensitivity but you kept holding on so he could cum too. The way his sweat dripped off of his forehead and complimenting with his dark locks nearly made you want to cum again.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, oh shit,” he moaned out, his thrusts slowing down and surely enough, you could feel his dick spurt out his seed inside you. He started to pull out and stroke himself, spurts of his cum filling up your pussy to not waste a drop.

You and him started to breathe heavily from the intense fuck as you gingerly pulled up the sheets to cover your body. It’s not like you were embarrassed of him seeing your body, it was a habit you did after you have sex with him.

“Did you miss me?” he smiled, lying down next to you and covering an arm around your waist. You nodded, snuggling up next to him on the neck of his crook. There weren't any words spoken from the both of you for a while, instead you were just enjoying the presence of him next to you because after today, he’ll be gone again.

If you had it your way, you didn’t want him to go but he really wanted to participate in his boxing match and what kind of girlfriend were you if you didn’t support him? Still, you loved every moment with him and he was the one thing you absolutely loved in your life.

After a moment of silence, Jungkook broke the silence by facing towards you with seriousness in his eyes. You were worried that something may have happened, so you braced yourself with the worst that could happen. But surprisingly, his words were a bigger shock than any other disaster you could think of.

“Y/N, do you mind if I ask something of you? I hope you don’t find it uncomfortable or invasive.” “Sure, what is it?” You should’ve known from the cheeky smirk he gave you that he was going to request this type of stuff.

“I want to see you touch yourself. I think you’ll look so hot fucking yourself with your fingers while all I’m doing is just watching you.” “What the hell?!”

You were lying if you said you didn’t think about it a lot, especially since Jungkook left the house today this afternoon. Now that he wasn’t there, the apartment felt lonely again and you automatically missed him.

However, the thought of him also brings you back to the conversation you had after you two had sex after a while.

“You’ve never touched yourself? I figured that something like that would come easy to you!” “Well- you know I have dignity right! It’s already embarrassing enough that I’m your submissive!”

“You’re right, it’s already hot seeing you act all whiny and needy for my touch.” “Shut up! Stop making fun of me!”

You shook your head, trying to get rid of Jungkook’s words. With the intent to clean your room to take some stuff out of your mind, you walked to the shared bedroom and started to rearrange random knick-knacks that were placed in peculiar locations.

While you were wandering around, your eye caught sight of a black duffel bag that was in a hidden corner of your bed. With curiosity, you approached it to check to see what was inside. It was heavy and filled with boxing gloves and other equipment, meaning that it was Jungkook’s.

He must’ve forgotten it when he left today, you mused, holding the glove to your chest. A normal person would immediately contact him and give it back but it was like a living piece of him, having its name and scent. You can’t believe you already miss him that much to hold onto his boxing gloves for some comfort. How pathetic.

The smell of him already reminded you of yesterday, when he touched you and made you feel so good. You groaned to yourself as you feel your panties dampening just from the thought of Jungkook giving you pleasure.

“Y’know what, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? Alright Jungkook, I’ll do it,” you muttered to yourself as you slowly grazed your fingers to your lower region. You could already feel the slick coming out of your panties, signalling how wet you were.

You were a smart person but frankly, you were confused on how to touch yourself especially since this was your first time. Memories of the way Jungkook inserted and thrusted his fingers inside you flashed through your mind, giving you an idea on how to start.

You slide your panties off to your ankles and slowly insert your index finger inside of your core, letting yourself get familiar to your own fingers inside of you. It sure felt different than when Jungkook did it, it wasn’t enough to completely make you feel undone. You pumped another finger inside, giving you something inside at least but it was no better than Jungkook’s touch.

“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moaned softly, flicking your own clit with your fingers which makes the pleasure at least a bit better. You would rather have him with you but it was enough to fill up a small part of his absence. Remembering every time he fucked you harshly was enough to quicken your pace with your fingers, your walls clenching around them and your orgasm closely approaching.

Your other hand groped your breasts, flicking your nipple and massaging them while the other was thrusting in and out of your needy cunt. You were completely in your own euphoria, the world completely fading away from you. Unfortunately for you, that euphoria is only short-lived.

An annoying sound ran throughout your room, the culprit being your cell phone. You groaned with disappointment as you attempted to pry your fingers out of your pussy and your orgasm fading away with every time the ringtone chimed.

With your slick-covered hands, you read the text and your blood started to run cold from the words that were displayed on the screen.

[Jungkook ♡]

- Hi babe, I’m coming home bc I forgot my boxing bag.

- Sorry that this was sudden

- Actually, I’m outside the apartment rn

You’re fucked. Absolutely fucked. But lucky, you still had a minute to spare to make it seem like you weren’t doing anything. You put his boxing glove back in the bag and wobbled downstairs to the front door. The door locks started to jingle and you immediately opened them just for him to take his bag and go. You love him with all of your heart but now’s not the time to chat with him.

“Hey Y/N, do you have my bag?” he asked across from you, looking as good as ever. You forced a smile and shoved his bag in front of your face.

“Yeah, it’s this one right? So, here it is so you can get going now! Goodbye!” you grinned, sweat dripping down your face.

Jungkook looked puzzled on why you were acting that way but decided to go along with it. “O-okay, thanks.”

“Of course! Now, you should get going now! Your boxing rehearsal isn’t going to wait forever, is it?” you chuckled, trying to push him out of the door but he didn’t budge. After taking a quick glance at you (more specifically your legs and the amount of slick dripping down), he decided to stay.

“Woah, woah, there’s something going on. Let me in,” he said stubbornly, pushing against you to get inside the apartment.

“What are you talking about? There’s literally nothing going on! You should go back to the boxing place!” you argued but he wouldn’t listen. Jungkook grabbed your hand and pulled you upstairs into the bedroom and set you down, looking straight into your eyes. You immediately blushed as his eyes held such confusion and hunger inside.

“Don’t lie to me, only bad girls lie. So tell me baby, what exactly is going on?”

Surely he didn’t know right? You still have some time to lie because there’s no way he knows.

“I was taking a nap before you texted me.”

“Without your panties on and a shit ton of slick dripping down your thighs?” he asked with confusion, pulling up your skirt and revealing your soaking pussy, throbbing due to the atmosphere. At this point, you were absolutely stuck in a corner as Jungkook stared at the way you’re completely aroused.

“Ahh, um..” “Are you cheating on me, Y/N?” His eyes were now full of sadness and hurt and you could immediately feel your heart start to break.

“N-no! Of course not! I would never cheat on you, you’re the one who I love! It’s just because..” you tried to get the idea out of his head, holding his hands tightly. Jungkook’s face brightened up a bit before being replaced with suspicion.

“So, what’s up? What were you doing while I left?” There was absolutely no talking yourself out of this because Jungkook would find out either way at this point. But at least it’s better than making up a stupid lie, right? “I..um..remember how you said you wanted to see me touch myself yesterday?” “Of course.” “Well...I was doing that..” you mumbled with embarrassment, avoiding his eye contact. Jungkook’s ears picked up what you said and his face lit up with excitement and desire.

“Say that again for me?” he smirked, loving how soft and shy you were now.

“I..was touching myself while I was thinking of you,” you said a bit loudly but it was still so embarrassing. You had no idea why he was all so happy right now but it made you happy nonetheless.

“Do you think you can show me?” he grinned, staring up into your eyes.

“What?! N-no! It’s private right? You see, it’s private for a reason! Now you got your bag and figured out why I was acting weird so you can go now!” you snapped, heat automatically filling up your body.

“It’s okay, I can skip practice today. This is important, why didn’t you tell me?” “It’s not something I should tell you.” “Anyways, you’ve been a bad girl today. Touching yourself while thinking of me, you’re so naughty. So your punishment is to reenact what you did before I came back and I’m not leaving until I see you touch yourself. But don’t worry, if you need help then I’m always here,” Jungkook purred, his dominant persona on. You gulped down a lump down your throat but you weren’t ready to back down to him yet.

“No I’m not! I’m not giving up my dignity just yet!” “Come on, little girl. I know you were fucking yourself like a little whore while you were gone. Did your tiny little fingers fill you up completely, better than my cock? I know you didn’t because even though you’re a whore, you’re still such a slut for my dick.” His dirty words made you even more turned on than normal with even more slick running down your thighs. You knew it was better to obey, especially since he’s talking like this. With that being said, you scooted yourself with the back of your head hitting the bed frame. After a minute of hesitation, you lifted up your skirt which revealed your whole pussy to him. Jungkook stared intently, noticing every little twitch that it made as it’s longing for something to be inside it and how wet it has become. His lips were curled into a smirk as your fingers started to graze over your folds.

Taking a deep breath, you inserted two of your fingers to aid the throbbing in your core. It felt different than when you did it before, maybe due to Jungkook staring at every little movement you made.

Despite your initial refusal, having him watch over you turned you on even more and the throbbing only continued to get worse after you slowly started to move your fingers. You didn’t know how much it turned you and him on, judging from his erection in his pants.

“Ahh, oh my god,” you moaned, adding an additional finger and groping your boobs with your other hand.

Jungkook’s mouth was in shock, shocked at how you can look so sexy touching yourself even though it was your first time. His dick was begging to be released in his now tight sweatpants but just watching you like this was more than enough.

He’s never admitted it directly to you but surprisingly, he’s such a voyeur and seeing you wrecked with only your fingers or even a toy could make him cum as hard as him actually fucking you.

“J-Jungkook, please…” you mewled, rocking your hips against your small hands in an attempt to hit your g-spot, where only your boyfriend knows.

By now, you’ve inserted your whole hand inside of your core and it still wasn’t as satisfying as Jungkook’s long fingers inside you. You should’ve been embarrassed that his vision was at you masterbating but frankly, you didn’t care anymore.

“Shit baby girl, just like that, fucking ruin yourself,” he grunted, slightly stroking his hardened member through his sweatpants.

“I want your mouth on me,” you cried, slowly starting to feel the same ecstatic feeling of your release. The way his eyes were set on you alone brings you closer to your high as you’re practically grinding on your hand.

Luckily, Jungkook heard your wish and immediately brought his face down to your core, taking your fingers out and licking your clit like there was no tomorrow. His face was completely buried with the goal of eating you out and getting your cum out of you. It wasn’t a thought that ever crossed your mind but you never realized how much better Jungkook made you feel and how the throbbing seemed to go away after he was with you. His face was absolutely covered in your juices and adding to his warm mouth were his long fingers.

“You like that don’t you, you slutty little girl?” he hummed, the vibrations of his mouth making you even more closer to the edge. You gripped onto his arm tightly, your fingernails dragging along his muscles due to how much he was giving you.

You felt his fingers curl against you, hitting your g-spot and bringing you closer to your climax. It felt too good and you were craving to be ruined by him. Jungkook stared at the way you were shoving his hand amongst your tight little cunt, grinding on it as you try to reach your high and the squelching sounds it made.

Within seconds, you were close to your orgasm and you were trying to chase after it feverishly. His tongue and his fingers were too much for you, even though you received them last night. They made you feel so satisfied and full, always filling you up to the edge and the way he was hitting every spot nearly made you cream all over his fingers.

Unfortunately for you, he immediately pulled his fingers and mouth away, completely denying you of releasing. The hot feeling and intensity disappeared instantly and was replaced by the familiar throbbing as you let out a groan of disappointment. This was the second time you’ve lost your orgasm and you just wanted to release on him once more.

“Why did you stop? I was going to-” you growled, your face heating up due to the increased temperature inside.

“You’re not going to cum when I’m away. Is that a rule you can follow?” he said sharply, licking every remain of your juices off his face and wiping the excess with a tissue.

“W-why?” “Instead, I want you to send me a video touching yourself but not cumming until my match. Is that an order my little girl can do?”

You absolutely hated the fact that you won’t be releasing for a while but you didn’t want to get him mad. All you can do is just accept your fate and nod.

“There you go, don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel so good once I win,” he grinned, kissing you passionately. You could immediately taste yourself on his lips and felt his hardened member upon you. There were more things that the two of you would’ve done but he wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“Well then, I’ll be off. You’ll behave, right?” he parted cheerily, grabbing his bag and leaving the apartment like he didn’t just completely ate you out and denied your orgasm for the second time. As you heard the door lock, you’re left with your skirt drenched from your juices and the aching feeling between your legs.

Oh the things that Jungkook does to you. But what would happen if you gave him a little surprise during his boxing match. Surely, you weren’t that submissive and besides, it would be fun to tease him..

“You did great man!” Taehyung cheered, high-fiving Jungkook as soon as his match ended. He shared the same with a bunny-like smile and went inside the locker room to clean up to see you. Not only did he win but he’s going to be staying with you for a while now.

With a bright spirit, he unlocked his locker and opened his phone to a text message from you. There was an attachment with a seemingly innocent message but once he opened the video, it only fueled his desire.

[Y/N ♡]

- I miss you so much

Inside of the video was you fucking yourself with your fingers, high-pitched and incoherent whimpers coming out of you and from the looks of it, it was like you’re about to reach your climax.

Within the last few seconds, it cuts to you creaming all over the bed and licking your juices off of your fingers seductively with a cute wink at the end. All of that just to rile and tease him.

Shit, the things that this girl does to me, Jungkook sighs, feeling his member starting to grow inside of his pants again. They were simple instructions yet you can’t obey properly. Maybe it was due to you being a brat and wanting to be put in your place again.

Well, if there’s one thing that you and Jungkook know, is that you’ll certainly not walk the next day.

a/n: honestly, i’m not too proud of this but i hope you liked it regardless! let me know what you think and have a great day <3

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cheri-translates · 3 years ago

Audio

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a call, Moments and Texts which have not been released in EN! 🍒

Highly recommened to read Summer Solstice Date first!

[ CALL ]

Shaw: Did I leave my “Oracle Script Calligraphy Form and Structure” book in Live House?

MC: Huh? Let me see...

Shaw: It should be on the red plastic chair. Check over that side.

MC: Found it. Do you need it now? I could ask a courier to send it to your school?

Shaw: No need. See if there’s a letter inside from someone with the surname “Wang”.

MC: The surname “Wang”... there isn’t.

Shaw: Hm, then I must have put it in another book. I’ll look for it myself later.

MC: Is the letter really important?

Shaw: A previous student of the Old Man wrote it to him. That elderly man has gone out of town to attend an academic discussion these few days, and asked me to keep it for him.

MC: Does this mean the sender is your senior?

Shaw: I guess she counts as a senior. After graduating, she headed to the undeveloped mountain region to bring education to them, and often corresponds with the Old Man through letters. The department was planning to keep her as a teacher, and the Old Man already wrote his recommendation in advance. But she said she was needed much more elsewhere.

MC: People who are willing to bring education to the mountain region are really incredible... I have a feeling that she's definitely an especially gentle and strong Big Sister!

Shaw: Gentle? The Old Man always calls her up to complain about me, then leaves her to lecture me. She always says the same things - “Teacher Shen thinks really highly of you, so don’t let him down.” Or “Don’t keep skipping literature classes just because you've memorised many books in the past.” Or “Don’t do your thesis half-heartedly. You have to go deeper into the research, and check it repeatedly...” Tch. She’s born to be a teacher.

MC: Pfft... looks like there are still people in your department who can manage you. Do you want to become a teacher in the future? You looked the part when you were a volunteer the last time.

Shaw: Nope. I’m not interested in transmitting wisdom, imparting knowledge, or resolving doubts.

MC: Really? But I found a postcard from an elementary student in your “Oracle Script Calligraphy Form and Structure” book. “Hello Big Brother Shaw, thanks for giving our class the “100 History Questions for Teens”. Let me share a piece of good news with you. I scored 90 marks in the mid-term exams...”

Shaw: Okay, that’s enough. Put the postcard back in its original position.

MC: Fine fine fine, I’ve already put it back... you felt really happy inside, didn’t you?

Shaw: Nope. I’ll have to end the call here. I have one more class. I’ll look for you once it’s done.

[ MOMENTS ]

Shaw’s Post: Perfect soundproofing. Next time, I can practise at home.

MC: Doesn’t that mean no one can hear you even if you shout yourself hoarse?

Shaw: ? You could try.

Shaw’s Post: Perfect soundproofing. Next time, I can practise at home.

MC: With a soundproofed room, there can also be a games room, movie room...

Shaw: We’ll start work tomorrow.

Shaw’s Post: Perfect soundproofing. Next time, I can practise at home.

MC: It’s just that the soundproofed room looks a little plain...

Shaw: My spray paint isn’t there for display.

[ TEXTS ]

[ First Scenario ]

Shaw: I won’t be going today. Have to keep her company. I’ll have to trouble you to thank your wife on my behalf.

MC: ???

Shaw: ...

Shaw: Wrong person.

Shaw: ...why can’t I unsend it?

MC: Were you planning to send that to Professor Shen?

Shaw: Who else?

Shaw: Dragging me to the museum to be a conscript in the morning was enough. He still wanted to occupy my evening.

Shaw: Dream on.

MC: Why is Professor looking for you? Is it very urgent?

Shaw: Nothing much. He said that since it’s my birthday, he and his wife wanted to treat me to a meal.

Shaw: I’ve already declined.

Shaw: Okay, I’ve blocked everyone. Nobody can even think of disturbing the rest of the day.

[ Second Scenario ]

Shaw: I won’t be going today. Have to keep her company. I’ll have to trouble you to thank your wife on my behalf.

MC: Did you send that the wrong person?

Shaw: ...

Shaw: Just pretend you didn’t see anything.

Shaw: No, delete it.

MC: Who is “she” referring to?

Shaw: Seems like you’re truly in high spirits.

Shaw: Hold up your phone and turn on the front camera.

Shaw: Look at who she is.

MC: The next time I look for you in school, I also want to meet your professors and seniors!

Shaw: Don’t come.

Shaw: Those guys in the department have wanted to pry into my private life since a long time ago.

Shaw: You aren’t allowed to provide them with materials.

[ Third Scenario ]

Shaw: I won’t be going today. Have to keep her company. I’ll have to trouble you to thank your wife on my behalf.

MC: Mm, it’s okay~

Shaw: ?

Shaw: What does this have to do with you?

Shaw: It wasn’t even meant for you.

MC: It’s so rare to see you talking so politely...

Shaw: Have you heard of “青白眼”?

[Note] I can’t find an equivalent English term for this, but it loosely translates to “direct gazes and the rolling of eyes”. The idea being conveyed is that you typically look at someone directly when your respect them, and roll your eyes if you don’t

Shaw: Different attitudes should be used when dealing with different people.

Shaw: I’ll only be polite to those who deserve my politeness.

MC: You should be a little more polite to me next time. Why do you always use imperative sentences with me...

Shaw: You sure?

Shaw: In that case, may I trouble MC to move her respectable feet, open the door gently, and allow me entrance into the residence.

Shaw: Much appreciated.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

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sonnetsnerdstuff · 4 years ago

Text

✧ Got7 as random boys in your town pt.1 ✧

✧ pairing (memberxreader) ✧ genre (common people!AU, fluff)

Jackson Wang (잭슨)

Owner of your fave café

There are two reasons why this is your favorite place to buy coffee: the first one is that it's so stylish -in all matte black and sharp lines; the second being its owner serving you just now. Golden skin, bright hair and shining smile- you could say he resembles the sun itself at the center of this black space. The passion for his work overflows in making his customers feel loved, sometimes with him acting a bit over the line as you think to yourself just now noticing the free puppy-shaped biscuits and flowers he's given you along with your order. You go sit down and casually consider permitting yourself to fall for him just because of the free food. You glance back at the counter and now he's sitting on it, laughing to a girl wearing a hoodie with the logo of a university at least 30 minutes away from here. You ground yourself: you knew you wouldn’t be mature enough for a relationship with a grown man like him. You could already anticipate all the unnecessary quarrels caused by you being constantly confused about his gentleness, getting that displeasing burn in your belly as he smiles fondly to his beloved costumers and the jealousy eating at you each day. You shake your head and decide to concentrate on the coffee. Taking a few sips of it you savor it on your tongue and can’t help but consider: despite it being bitter, it’s still extremely addicting, deep flavoured and hot.

✧ ✧ ✧

Mark Tuan (마크)

The skater boy in your neighborhood

You’ve known him ever since elementary and went to the same schools for all your lives, but never really talked to each other. He's high-key an introvert with a really small circle of friends and you low-key never liked his attitude towards school: always sleeping at first period because he'd been up late at night gaming or skating down the streets near you house (as you could clearly hear). One evening you’re going home and you pass by him with his friends: seven hooded figures laying on grass, the sunset making the bottles of beer gleam and shading their faces in black. You’re still able to recognize each one of them from their skateboards though, especially Mark’s flaming red one. You have a test tomorrow but he doesn’t seem bothered by it; as you cross the flowerbed where they’re lying you hear him laugh and your head turns by itself: you meet eyes and his sweet smile for a moment seems for you. For unknown reasons, it makes you remember random notions about him like that he’s been the one leaving pet food anonymously at the local shelter for years, or that time he cried in class watching Dead Poets Society. You look away and he goes back to the little flowers he’s been threading in his hands, as if you didn’t know each other. Later on at night he pops in your mind again and you innocently conclude that, in the end, you can’t really despise him as a person when he feels like such a sweet guy.

✧ ✧ ✧

Kim Yugyeom (유겸)

The mutual friend

“What did the pepperoni say to the cheese? Slice to meat you!”. You close your mouth, having lost the chance to say the same exact pun and put down the pizza in your hand. It had been Yugyeom, yet again. “That was my line, sir”. Your best friend covered her eyes with one hand in response: "God, how could I have thought that getting you two to meet was a good idea… now we’ll be stuck with lame jokes all the damn time”. Situation explained, your group of friends had decided to expand their circle and merge with the other one from their friends in common. So now you were there, eating pizza all together at the school canteen and it was going really good: sharing foods, bursting giggles and loose conversations. “I have the feeling you’re going to regret it more and more” he says laughing. The other thing being, both groups had been anticipating for you two to meet and you didn’t disappoint: everyone had been enjoying each other's company, but yours and Yugyeom’s chemistry hit off the roofs. Each of you being extreme dorks and having similar tastes -starting from music to sense of humor- you end up creating a synergic chaos taking on the job of mood makers of the new group, as everyone had wished it to be. “I’ll regret it only if you don’t end up together though..” your friend whisper to your hear and you choke a little. Let’s start with best friends, you think, that looks a lot more likely.

✧ Part two ✧

Masterlist ツ

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boxoftheskyking · 4 years ago

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Pick Up Every Piece, Part Two

how do you write Wei Ying? All talking. How do you write Lan Zhan? Run on sentences, of course.

have some exposition. everyone is a mess, wahoo.

Part One

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Lan Zhan’s iron is broken.

There’s no reason it should be—he keeps it clean and returns it to its original box after each use, and it’s barely three years old. But no matter what he does, it does not heat. He shouldn’t even need to iron his shirt in the morning, but deadline on deadline (and budget cuts on budget cuts) mean that he hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in six days and hasn’t done laundry in a week. There are dishes piled up in the kitchen sink, so he’s started avoiding the kitchen entirely on his way to crash into bed so he doesn’t have to see it.

Things break, Lan Zhan accepts this. They wear out, come to accidents, disappoint you, die. But there’s no reason for this iron not to work. There have been no odd smells, the plug is fine—he’s tried three different outlets—and it’s barely three years old.

He stands in his closet in an undershirt and boxers, one hand pressed flat against the heating element, and allows himself a two minute breakdown.

There’s no reason for it. He’s done everything right, ticked every box. He started writing at age ten and hasn’t stopped since. He was top of his class at university, edited every school paper he had access to and founded two more, he got his masters. Even factoring in nepotism—which he doesn’t like to do, because it makes him feel like a cheat—he’s gone about as far as he can as a journalist. He’s won every major award, and with his uncle as managing editor he has more freedom than most in terms of how he writes and what he covers. He served the Republic, fought for two and half years and got a Sunshot medal for it. And yet, after ten years in his chosen field, everything is dying around him. No one pays for papers anymore, no one cares for the truth anymore. Political pundits on TV and radio have taken over the readership; citizens still traumatized by war just want someone to tell them what to think, tell them everything is fine now, tell them to ignore the injustices and messes and misfortunes that surround them. When he started at the Gusu Herald there were fifty people on staff—now they’re down to under twenty, including editors. All the small town papers in the area have closed, but there’s hardly the staff to even consider local stories these days. Lan Qiren tries to hold out as the last family-owned paper in the area, but corporations are circling. It’s like he spent his whole youth building a shining bridge across a canyon, only to find the other side barren and dead, miles of cold steel and no light on the horizon.

He turns the iron and presses it against his chest, imagines it suddenly turning on, the satisfaction of the burn.

Then he unplugs the iron, puts it back in its box, and pulls on the wrinkled shirt. He pulls up the blackout curtains to let a little of the thin 7am light into the bedroom. There’s no reason to still have blackout curtains in Gusu, but he got used to it years ago and once he gets used to things he tends not to change them without reason. But he’s got plants now, gifts from his brother, and he’s trying to keep them alive. It shouldn’t be that difficult to do, he is conscientious and meticulous, but then his iron shouldn’t be broken either.

No one comments on his wrinkled appearance when he gets to work, which irks him. There is the familiar sound of phones ringing, printers going, file cabinets slamming open and closed in every direction. It’s calming to him, but he can’t help but notice how much quieter it is now than when he started. Part of it is the new computers—when he started here they were still on electric typewriters which were deafening. But mostly it just feels . . . empty.

Not completely empty, not yet.

“Hey, hey Lan Zhan,” Lan Meiling waves him over to her desk, where a half dozen reporters are gathered around a computer printout. “Did you see this? Jin Zixun’s the new head of the Trade Commission. Just announced.”

Lan Zhan winces and looks over the report.

“But we’re not a monarchy, right guys?” Liu Dong snorts, shoving Meiling’s shoulder.

“It’s not a monarchy, it’s the other thing,” Wang Tengfei says, tapping his chin. “What’s the thing where it’s not passed down by birth, but you still appoint all your family members? That’s a thing isn’t it?”

“That’s just Jin Guangshan,” Liu Dong laughs. “But hush, hush, treason.”

“Come on, what’s the word for it?” Tengfei asks again.

Meiling takes the paper back from Lan Zhan. “Wasn’t he the one who paid for his grades in college? I get them confused.”

Lan Zhan nods. “That was Jin Zixun. Who’s got the story? There should be clippings. ‘92, I think, or ‘93.”

“Who covered that? Any of you?” Su She leans over the cubicle wall, knocking the photo of Meiling’s family onto her desk. There’s no reason for him to be here; he doesn’t cover politics. He’s had the local court beat for the past three years, and has spent those three years writing the exact same story five times a week with different names and charges plugged in. Lan Zhan is completely sure that he’d cover a person fined for unpaid parking tickets and a person arrested for smuggling baby unicorns with the exact same level of interest.

“Wei Ying wrote the story,” Lan Zhan says. The group falls silent, a troubled glance flying between all but him. “Before the merger, in the Gusu Times. Lan Shu can pull the clippings for you. It was a series, I believe.”

Lan Meiling coughs. “You can find a different reference, Liu Dong. Someone in Qinghe must have covered it.”

“It was a good series,” Lan Zhan says. He’s being needlessly stubborn, but that’s nothing new. “Wei Ying got the school registrar on the record.”

Liu Dong scratches the back of his shaved head. “Yeah, but. You know. I’ll call over to Qinghe.”

“It was a good series,” Lan Zhan says again. It’s awkward enough to break up the group, everyone shuffling back to their desks or the coffee maker. Lan Zhan has that uncomfortable feeling that he’s supposed to want to apologize for something. It’s a feeling he gets a lot, and he hates it. He doesn’t want to apologize—he has nothing to apologize for. Wei Ying was a good reporter; he wrote good stories. Everything that happened after that doesn’t change the fact that he was good at what he did.

Su She follows him over to his desk, so his day is about to keep getting worse. Lan Zhan prides himself on being rational, and he has many rational reasons for disliking Su She. He’s a half-assed writer, he wouldn’t know a decently placed comma if it was unveiled to him on a pedestal by the gods, he is a busybody and a gossip, and he lives to take credit for other people’s work. He’ll offer you the phone number of one of his “connections” and then whine about how he deserves a shared byline.

But on many levels beyond the rational, Lan Zhan hates the guy. He hates the way he pronounces words, his laugh, the smell of his lunch, even his handwriting. And he’s always there.

“You knew him, didn’t you, Lan Zhan?” Su She leans on his cubicle now, though there are no photographs to knock down.

Lan Zhan’s instinctual response is Don’t call me that, which is ridiculous because it’s his name. But he hates the way his name sounds in Su She’s mouth.

“What?”

“Wei Ying. You knew him before the scandal, didn’t you?”

Lan Zhan takes an even breath. “Yes.”

“Did you work with him?”

“He was at the Times, before the merger. He never worked at the Herald.”

“But you knew him in school, right?”

If Lan Zhan wanted to be fair (he doesn’t), there’s no way for Su She to know that this line of questioning is particularly painful. He distracts himself from the sting of it by considering all of the answers he won’t be giving.

Yes. He gave me half a handjob in 1989 and I’ve thought of it every day since.

Yes. He called me his soulmate one day in the library at Gusu University and I’ve thought of it every day since.

Yes, I read the story that ruined his life before it was published, because he came to my home and asked me to read it and he was so proud, skinny and manic and over-caffeinated and burning, burning, burning, and I looked at him and I recognized the same thing that burns in me, the thing that keeps me coming back to this sad beige office every day, that makes me want to fight the inevitable like swinging swords at the sea, and I didn’t tell him not to publish. I told him it was a good story. It would not have stopped him, me telling him not to do it. But I could have tried. And I’ve thought of that every day since.

He just nods, instead.

“Is he still alive, do you think?” Su She asks casually.

The question stops Lan Zhan. “What?”

“No one’s heard from him since the war, have they? Could have died somewhere. Plenty still missing. I heard he went West, maybe, and the fighting was—”

“He is not dead.” Lan Zhan doesn’t know this for sure. But he would know, surely. Wouldn’t he? The thought honestly has not occurred to him in all these years, that Wei Ying might have died.

“Are you in touch?” Su She has a habit of asking questions like this, flipping from casual conversation to an interrogation. It makes him a terrible reporter.

“I served with his brother. He has not mentioned that Wei Ying has died. I have work to do, Su She.”

It bothers him, even after Su She leaves. He hasn’t seen Jiang Cheng in a few years, and they do not write or call each other. Jin Zixuan writes to them all about once a year, and he visits when he’s in Gusu, but he has always been the more sentimental one of the three of them, the survivors. But he thinks that Jiang Cheng would tell him if Wei Ying had died.

Perhaps he wouldn’t. Jiang Cheng was not at school with them; he may not think of Lan Zhan as a person to notify in the event of his brother’s death. Would anyone think to let him know? It wouldn’t make the papers, probably, so how would he know? Wen Qing, perhaps. If she remembered. If she is also alive.

He feels it like an itch on his skin, something unsettled in his stomach, the idea that Wei Ying might not have survived. He would know, wouldn’t he? He’d feel it, the change in the fabric of the universe. Food would taste different, his voice would sound different. He’d feel it in the moments between sleeping and waking.

He makes a cup of tea and boots up his computer. They all have emails now, which is still a relatively new part of the morning ritual, but he doesn’t mind adding it as he checks his mail, his answering machine. He had a deadline yesterday and isn’t swamped this morning, so he takes down phone numbers and flips through his calendar on autopilot while he thinks about Wei Ying.

Wei Ying probably remembers him. He definitely remembers him, it would be ridiculous for him not to, but Lan Zhan doubts he remembers their college years the same way.

(His fingers in Wei Ying’s hair, shoved against the wall in someone else’s dark bedroom, cheering and laughter from the drinking game just downstairs, cheap beer on his breath, everything spinning, spinning, his first time being drunk, his brain singing out kiss him, kiss him again, more, more, more, this is your chance, Wei Ying’s left hand on him, awkward and surprisingly tender, Wei Ying’s voice slurring in his ear “Lan Zhan I’m so glad you’re here, I’m so glad, I’m so glad I found you, Lan Zhan,” before the door bursts open and they spring apart, before Wei Ying ruffles his hair and says, “You probably won’t remember this, huh?” before they leave the party separately, before weeks of silence because what do you say to all of that, before Wei Ying and Wen Qing get together and Lan Zhan says, “I’m happy for you,” which is a lie, a lie, a lie, before Wei Ying and Wen Qing split up and Lan Zhan says, “I’m sorry to hear that,” which is a lie, a lie, a lie . . .)

He could do some digging. It probably wouldn’t be too difficult to find him, and it’s not like Lan Zhan lacks resources. But every time the thought crosses his mind it feels like too much, too violating. If Wei Ying wanted to be found, he would not have disappeared. And if Wei Ying wanted Lan Zhan in his life, he knows where to find him. Lan Zhan is not the one who left.

That’s a bitter thought, and unfair.

The story of Wei Ying is not complicated, and it’s not secret, but it’s never told right.

They’d met in college, when Wei Ying transferred to Gusu in junior year, in a psych class of all places. Lan Zhan had a double major, because psychology and journalism was a logical pairing, and Wei Ying was meant to take a broadcast concentration but had broken his wrist falling off a roof and couldn’t work any of the equipment.

Lan Zhan hadn’t known what to do with him at first. Wei Ying had grabbed him for the first group project a week into the semester, declaring, “We’re kindred spirits, you know,” before writing his phone number left-handed on Lan Zhan’s arm. Lan Zhan did not know. They had barely spoken before this, but for the rest of the semester Wei Ying sat by him and they studied together and Lan Zhan pulled strings to get him onto the university paper. And Wei Ying had grinned at him one day in the library, sleep-deprived and rumpled, when Lan Zhan had finished his trailed-off sentence, and said “Ah, my soulmate.”

They were kindred spirits, Lan Zhan believed. Lan Zhan decided he wanted to be a reporter when he was ten and learned the truth about his parents. After an entire childhood of being lied to, he decided his calling in life would be to tell the truth, no matter what. It made him odd and prickly, and usually lonely, but gave him a reputation of fearlessness and ferocity that he would never regret.

Wei Ying was different. He wasn’t so invested in the truth from a moral or political perspective—he was cheerfully amoral back then, in a teenage kind of way—but he loved information and he loved being right. Puzzles and secrets attracted him, and Lan Zhan watched them open up for him like lotus flowers at every turn.

Lan Zhan settled into their friendship in a way that was unexpected, he began to rely on Wei Ying’s opinion, began to think of things from his perspective when he found himself stuck. And then he’d gotten drunk at a midwinter party and kissed Wei Ying and ruined all of it. It wasn’t Wei Ying’s fault. Lan Zhan had panicked and run and then left for break and never given Wei Ying his home number, and then when he returned Wei Ying wasn’t single anymore. He’d gone to Yiling with Wen Qing and her brother and come back someone’s boyfriend. (Wen Qing! Older, beautiful, stern and razor-sharp, who Lan Zhan had hero-worshipped, the part-time advisor to the school paper who turned down more offers than either of them would see in their lifetimes. That Wen Qing!) And Lan Zhan didn’t know how to handle it so he just . . . let it go. They stayed in touch while Wei Ying moved back to Yunmeng for a while, then got a job at the Times after the war started, and Lan Zhan joined the Herald and went to grad school, always Wei Ying reaching out first. But even after they were both single again and living in the same city, they just stayed apart.

It would be easy—completely unfair, but easy—to blame Wen Qing for all of it. But all she’d done was the same thing Lan Zhan had. Loved Wei Ying, and failed to stop him. If anything, Wen Qing is better than he is—when Wei Ying fell, at least she fell with him.

The downfall was not complicated, and he should have seen it coming. When Wei Ying showed up at his door in the middle of the night with a crumpled print out of his story, Lan Zhan should have seen where it would lead.

It was 1994, three years into the war, and Lan Zhan was in training with the cultivator corps in Lanling. In retrospect, that’s likely how Wei Ying found him—Jiang Cheng was in his unit and must have given the address. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he didn’t stop Wei Ying. Everything was so unreal, the war, the devastation, the training, cultivation itself. Everything he’d known about life, the country, physics, what is possible and what is just a legend, all of it was thrown out into a whirling storm of adapt, adapt, adapt. It was chaos, and Lan Zhan became very good at chaos.

The story would have been a bombshell in any year—over a dozen former assistants, interns, and even one sitting representative accusing the Acting President of the Republic of misconduct and abuse. Rumors about Jin Guangshan were older than his political career, and illegitimate children were hardly rare in government, but Wei Ying had been the first to get multiple accusers on the record along with recordings and photos. Wen Qing, the youngest managing editor in the country and one of only two women, had agreed to run the story.

It was a good story. A really, really good story.

But there was a war on, and Acting President Jin was the only protection the country had against the usurper Wen Ruohan and his army of traitors. Not that Jin Guangshan ever left Carp Tower himself—that’s what the oldest son was for.

The blowback was immediate—Wei Ying was forced to retract the entire story and resign, Wen Qing was fired and the Gusu Times lost every advertiser and investor on the books. It was only natural for Lan Qiren to buy it up for pocket change, the merger he’d been looking at for years. All of the women named in the story issued statements accusing Wei Ying of lying, of doctoring evidence, of hiring actors that looked like them to fill his false story with fake photos. All statements made after visits from high ranking military officers, of course. He’d heard rumors that Wen Qing’s brother had enlisted and they used him for leverage, which wouldn’t be surprising. He hadn’t expected Wen Qing to give up without a fight.

Wei Ying had written to him once, just after he disappeared, with no return address.

It’s my fault, it said. Lan Zhan, it was all true, the story was true, but I’m still a liar. I told them I could protect them all, if they went on the record. I promised. I promised Wen Qing. And I couldn’t. I’m sorry, Lan Zhan, I never wanted to be a liar.

And in the end, it meant nothing. Few enough people were getting daily papers, much less actually reading them, and with the immediate retraction, reams and reams being taken off newsstands by military police, it was barely a drop in the storm that was raging. Outside of the newsrooms themselves, at least, where Wei Ying and Wen Qing were nailed up on the wall as a cautionary tale. Free press, up to a point. Sometimes Lan Zhan thinks about what would happen if the story broke today, the impact it could have. But after the retraction, you can’t go back. He can’t think about it too long or the rage overtakes him. Rage for Wei Ying, for Wen Qing, for every person in the article who was smothered and tossed out with nothing. The kind of rage that doesn’t fade, can’t be extinguished.

Lan Zhan shakes himself. Wei Ying is alive. Wen Qing is also alive, most likely. Su She is an idiot.

He only has one message on his answering machine.

“Hey, Lan Zhan, it’s your cousin Lan Liang. Listen, I’ve got something I want to talk to you about. I don’t know if it’s your thing, or if you choose what you cover or whatever, but there’s a kid gone missing here in Moling and some very weird stuff going on at the building sites. I don’t have all the details, but it’s my uncle’s daughter-in-law’s foster kid. Cops aren’t giving them much, so I said I’d call you. I don’t know if the kid went wandering and got hurt or got lost or what, but maybe someone from the Herald can cover it, get the public interest up. Maybe someone knows something. I don’t know. Probably a long shot, but I said I’d call, so there you go. You can reach me at—”

Lan Zhan takes down the number neatly in his calendar. He can call after the 10am meeting, maybe drive out to Moling in the afternoon. The rage is still there, banked and contained and ready to be useful.

Part Three

#assorted writings #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #cql #pick up every piece #Just getting! shit! written! who! cares! if! its! good!

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wingsofkpop · 4 years ago

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Hiraeth - I.V: Rise of the Primes

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, blood and gore, very brief depiction of magical torture, mentions of child abuse and other traumatic experiences, etc.

word count: 8,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

Mark remembers a time when he was much younger, much, much more naive, and completely oblivious to his magical roots.

And while he’s not usually one to look back into his past, nowadays, he can’t help but wonder about those clueless years where his sole care was passing dreaded calculus class and keeping his pot stash hidden from his mom. Sometimes Mark even misses those days—misses his mom.

Mark often wonders what would have happened if his mom wasn’t killed that night. He was only just beginning to learn the basics of witchcraft back then, barely able to keep his emotions in check without blasting a window to pieces. If his mom were still around, would he have done the stupid things he knew better than to do? Would he have sought for such ambitions he knew he could never achieve? Would he have been a better leader, witch, man…?

Yes. Mark knows that. He would be better.

It’s been years since Mark tried to talk to his mother, having given up trying to summon her spirit when he received a personal message from her telling him to stop—to let her go. Even so, he wishes that he can just have one minute. One short minute to see her face, to look into her eyes, and to ask her the same question that has been haunting his mind since he found her body in a pool of her own blood in their home:

‘What the fuck am I supposed to do now?’

As much as he plays the leader-card, and as much as he acts like he’s all-knowing—Mark has no clue what he’s doing. It’s as if he’s been inside a maze these past nine years, unable to find the right path that leads him to glory. Maybe if she was still here, holding his face in her wrinkled hands and speaking his name in her sweet voice, Mark would know what to do. He’d know how to get rid of the huntress and the witch without taking their lives. He’d know how to protect his people, and the rest of the town.

He’d know how to be better—to do better.

Mark shakes his mother’s face from his mind, attempting to focus on the passing scenery of the forest. He adjusts his grip on the steering wheel before reaching forward to turn his air conditioning on full blast, then adjusting his grip again.

It’s been months since he last traveled this way, yet all the sights are the same. The trees are the same trees. The shrubbery, the same shrubbery. Even the rocks haven’t changed save for a new crack or two. That thought actually spills anger through his veins. It’s as if the forest doesn’t realize something is missing—someone is missing.

‘And it’s your fault.’

Mark shakes the intrusive thought away, peering at his companion through the corner of his eye. Jinyoung, like Mark, is merely staring at their surroundings, dark eyes flitting around in every direction. Before everything happened, Mark would have never predicted that one of the Primes would be riding in his passenger’s seat with no care in the world. To be honest, he’s still having a hard time believing him and Jinyoung are on decent terms at all.

“My sisters and I used to play in these woods.” Mark is taken aback by the sudden, albeit casual comment from the vampire, nearly losing his footing on the gas pedal. He looks to the side once again, discovering Jinyoung’s gaze still fixated outside the window.

Mark clears his throat. “I… didn’t know you had siblings.”

“It was a long, long time ago.” Jinyoung shrugs, “Besides, we weren’t close anyway.”

“Why do you say that?”

His question is answered with silence, and when he turns to the passenger, Jinyoung’s expression is blank, almost cold. Mark decides not to press and focuses back on the road.

The cabin has not changed either, Mark notices as the structure comes into sight. A heaviness begins to settle within his chest as he parks in the gravel driveway, one that has his heart beating twice its normal speed and palms beginning to sweat. Trying not to dwell on it too much, Mark cuts out the engine and wipes his hands against his jeans. He’s prepared to exit the vehicle when a sudden realization enters his brain.

Mark turns to Jinyoung and sighs, “I think it might be best for you to stay in the car.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Jinyoung agrees, granting the witch a rigid nod.

“Just don’t steal my truck, okay?”

“This piece of junk?” Jinyoung chortles, “It’s practically falling apart.”

“Don’t piss her off. She still has to get us home.” Mark finds his chest a little lighter as a result of their banter, something he would never admit aloud to the vampire. With a silent farewell, Mark shoves open his door and steps into the bright sunlight, cursing himself for forgetting his sunglasses back at the mausoleum.

The log cabin casts a drowning shadow over Mark as he makes his way toward the figure waiting on the steps that lead up to a redwood porch. Overgrown vines and moss seem to inhabit every available spot of the cabin, winding around wooden supports and spilling down each roof tile. If it hadn’t been for the catch of the sunlight, Mark wouldn’t have been able to notice one of the grimey windows on the second floor had been cracked.

“Long time no see, hyung.” Mark finds his chest tightening at the tired tone of the figure’s voice.

He paints what he hopes to be a smile across his lips and nods. “It’s nice to see you, Gyeom.”

Like the cabin, it has also been months since Mark has seen his younger friend. Yugyeom has always been a giant, towering over him and basically everyone else in town since he hit puberty, but if Mark didn’t know any better, he’d say the wolf had grown even more. His shoulders are broader, dark hair longer, hands calloused and slightly marred with the throes of hard work. He must still be working for the town’s lumber service.

Yet another something that hasn’t changed.

“How… How are things?”

Yugyeom shrugs. “You know how it is out here. Not much excitement.”

“Right.” The silence between them grows heavier and heavier with each passing second. Mark searches his brain for something to expel the awkwardness, but can’t seem to see past the guilt and suffocating self-loathing swirling through his gut.

He thanks the universe when Yugyeom breaks the quiet himself.

“I know you didn’t come just to check in, hyung.” His gut sinks at the younger’s painfully true observation. “What’s going on? And why can I smell a Prime in your passenger seat?”

“I don’t if you’ve heard, but Nayeon was killed last week.”

Yugyeom’s eyes soften. “I saw it on TV. I’m really sorry, hyung,”

“The people who killed her—a witch and supernatural huntress—they’re after the rest of the coven.” Mark ignores Yugyeom’s sympathy, fiddling with a loose thread inside the pocket of his jeans. “Jinyoung has been helping us track them down. He’s gonna help us fight but…”

“But you’re not sure if it will be enough.”

“I know I have no right to show up here and ask for your help, Gyeom.” With a gulp, Mark dares to step closer to the small staircase. Even as far as scaling the first two steps to move closer to his younger companion. Mark shakes his head, “But—I’m desperate. My people are in danger and… and I don’t want anyone else to die.”

Another moment of silence passes, save for the violent beating of Mark’s pulse. Yugyeom stares at Mark, his gaze a cross between pained and hopeful. Just when the latter feels like his lungs are going to explode, Yugyeom releases a helpless sigh and shakes his head.

“I want to help you, hyung. I really do… but I can’t risk anyone in the pack. Especially against a hunter.”

Mark’s heart drops to his stomach.

Yugyeom sends him a sad expression. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“It’s okay. I get it.” Mark nods, taking a rather clumsy step backward off the porch steps. He manages to save himself from the embarrassment of collapsing into the gravel before offering Yugyeom a weak smile. “I… I would do the same thing. If it were my people.”

“Hyung—” Yugyeom moves to follow Mark, descending a single stair just as the front door swings open. The embers of Mark’s self-loathing grow to flames at the sight of various familiar faces crowded in the doorway, and he wishes nothing more than to cast a spell that makes him completely disappear.

“What’s going on?... Mark?” Chan emerges behind Yugyeom, his features a mixture of confusion and surprise. Another few bodies join the younger man, each set of eyes reopening a mess of old scars in Mark’s soul.

“Mark-oppa!” He barely has time to prepare when a smaller figure dashes down the staircase and collides with his body. His arms catch the figure’s waist before her form falls to the ground, supporting her weight against his own form.

He releases a heavy, yet silent breath. “Dahyun.”

“Where the hell have you been!?” Dahyun pulls from the embrace with a fierce, yet playful spark within her dark eyes. “It’s been months, Mark! Months!”

“I know… It’s just been kind of… weird lately.”

“We’ve missed you… I’ve missed you.”

He winces. “Yeah. Me too.”

“What the hell is he doing here?” Mark recognizes the familiar gritty tone, turning his eyes from Dahyun to a seething Changbin. The animosity in his glare deepens Mark’s wounds.

“Changbin. Don’t.”

“He has no fucking right to be here.” Changbin ignores Chan’s warning, narrowing his eyes to poisonous slits.

“Changbin! You asshole—”

“It’s okay. I was… just leaving.” Mark interrupts Dahyun’s scold, peeling himself away from her arm like a bloodied bandage. He spares a glance and a nod to a pained Yugyeom, “Thanks, Gyeom. I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Dahyun reaches for Mark again. “But you just got here. You can’t just—”

“Dubu…” Dahyun turns at Yugyeom’s call, watching the sad shake of his head with glittering eyes. “Let him go…”

Mark’s heart practically cries out at the pure devastation written across the younger woman’s face as she helplessly drops her arms to her sides. He chooses not to linger on her expression, nor Chan’s, nor Yugyeom’s, and with a final nod of his head, makes a break back to his beat-up, rusted truck.

In mere seconds, Mark is driving away from the cabin—driving away from the pain. It’s not until the cabin is completely gone from his rear-view mirror is he able to inhale a full breath without his lungs screaming out.

“No one else is going to die.”

Jinyoung hadn’t said anything at his frantic entrance, nor that he hadn’t paused to throw on his seatbelt. In fact, Mark had almost forgotten the vampire was in the vehicle at all. He turns to find Jinyoung staring out the window, just as before. And if he hadn’t spoken again, Mark would have thought he imagined the voice himself.

Jinyoung turns, sending chills down Mark’s spine at the intensity of his gaze.

“You have my word.”

Mark can’t find it in himself to respond, stuck between unwanted memories and the nostalgia of uncured heartbreak. He instead swallows the bile at the back of his throat, carefully throws on his seatbelt, and turns up the radio.

The music does nothing to drown out the cruel thoughts raging through his mind.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The scenery outside the car window passes by in verdant blurs, settling a slight wave of nausea in your gut. Not desiring to vomit up the Chinese you ate beforehand, you turn your attention to the young driver instead, meeting her starry-eyed gaze in the rearview mirror.

“How much longer?”

“The estate is just up this hill, miss.” The driver assures. “It should be no more than a couple minutes.”

You nod your thanks, peering out the window before remembering your sickness in the first place. With a silent sigh, you abandon the prospect of any sight at all and close your eyes, leaning into the comfort of the headrest. The slight pressure actually somewhat relieves the throb in the back of your brain. The headache that has been present ever since you stormed out on Mark and Jinyoung.

It’s been almost three days since you learned the truth about Moon Dye Bay and all its supernatural offerings. You’d think by now you’d be able to process the fact that your best friend is a witch, and the charming man that saved you from likely death is a vampire—one of the oldest vampires in existence at that. But alas, you’re still having a hard time believing any of this is possible. Even with all the evidence, and proof, and general rules of logic.

Then again, vampires and witches and werewolves and hunters and whatever other creatures aren’t exactly logical… considering they go against everything that is the basis of nature.

Anywho, neither Mark nor Jinyoung has even tried to reach out since that afternoon. In fact, Mark hasn’t returned any of your calls or texts. Though you’re not exactly surprised as both he and Jinyoung made it very clear of your position on the sidelines.

Too bad you’ve never been much of a player who likes to miss the action.

“We’ve arrived, miss.” Your eyelids snap open at the sound of the driver’s lilted voice, jaw almost dropping at the sight that awaits. You shimmy forward, greedily taking in the expanse outside the car window as the driver maneuvers the vehicle up the cobblestone-paved driveway.

If you had to use one word to describe The Project Estate, it would be massive. Completely fucking massive. With a single glance, you can only imagine how many acres of land make up the entire lot. The mansion itself is bigger than any building you’ve set foot inside, resembling that of a miniature castle without the turrets, walls and moat. You’re pretty sure it’s at least four times the size of your apartment building.

“Beautiful place, isn’t it?” The driver marvels, craning her own head over the steering wheel to take in the view. “The Project Brothers are crazy loaded to be able to afford anything like this… What do you think they do?”

Rob banks with their vampire super strength? Steal artifacts and masterpieces with their vampire super speed? Accumulate millions and millions of dollars in wealth after being alive for centuries?

You shrug. “They probably own real estate or something.”

Once the driver stops in front of what you hope to be the front door, you quickly bid her farewell with a generous tip and exit out onto the stone pathway. The purr of the engine grows fainter and fainter as the vehicle turns back the way you came in, leaving you stranded in the shadow of the towering mansion. You can only hope Jinyoung is home.

An old fashioned, golden door knocker rests on the door, fashioned into the shape of a growling lion. You ignore the goosebumps forming across the skin underneath your jacket and pick up the knocker. It’s heavy in your palm, striking the door with such powerful strikes, it must be impossible for anyone inside not to hear.

You visited the cemetery earlier, prepared to convince Mark of your resourceful and beneficial addition to whatever little team he’s gathering, but you only found an empty mausoleum, and an even emptier feeling inside your gut. So you figured you would pay Park Jinyoung a visit at his personal place of residence instead—the same residence him and his brother have resided since 1770.

Your mind races as you wait, thinking over the long speech you prepared to argue your competence and readiness. You don’t know how long it will take, but you do know that you are not leaving until Jinyoung accepts your help, or at the very least, acknowledges your newfound importance in the situation.

The killers are your roommate’s friends after all.

After what seems like minutes, but is probably only a couple seconds, the large, mahogany door swings open. Although, the face that appears in the doorway is not the one you were hoping to see.

A young woman appears behind the door, her babyish features practically exuding the forefronts of her age. She couldn’t be older than twenty, you find, at least, definitely not with a face like that. Her eyes are rather bleary when they meet your own, borderline crimson red. You wonder if she just woke up from a deep sleep after a long night of drinking…

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m looking for Jinyoung?”

“Jinyoung is not home right now.” The woman’s voice is blank, monotone like your boss whenever he’s giving out a lecture. It deepens your concern. You’ve seen your fair share of hangovers between Jihyo and Sana’s party-animal habits, but never one that renders your body so… zombie-like.

“Do you know where he went? Or maybe when he’ll be home?”

The woman doesn’t blink. “No.”

“Okay, um…” You gnaw at your bottom lip, carefully thinking over the next plan of action. Due to the woman’s state, it’s pretty obvious you are not going to be able to get much out of her. Maybe you can try Youngjae’s cell, and eventually badger an answer out of him—

“What’s taking so long? Who’s at the door?” The woman steps aside to reveal a familiar face—one that sends gooseflesh budding across your skin.

Jaebeom’s eyes widen in surprise. “You…? What are you doing here…? ” His expression reminds you of your previous encounter outside the town hall, where he confirmed his and his brother’s vampiric nature. Beneath the surprise in his gaze, you can still make out what seems to be apprehension… almost fear.

“Is Jinyoung here? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s not here.” Jaebeom crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway. “He went on some field trip with that Tuan kid. I have no clue where they went.”

“Well… do you at least know when he’ll be back?”

He narrows his eyes. “Why do you need to see my brother anyway?”

“I told you. I need to speak with him.”

“Are you sure he even wants to talk to you?”

The agitation spreading through your veins grows at Jaebeom’s obvious indifference. You swallow down the frustration before sparing a glance back toward the silent woman. She’s staring in your direction, but her eyes don’t seem to be looking at you. Instead, they seem to be looking through you.

“Is she… okay?” You ask softly, earning another wave of surprise from the Prime.

Jaebeom leans down to murmur something into the woman’s ear, before she turns on her heel and disappears back inside the house. It might have only been a trick of your mind, but hidden beneath the collar of her shirt may be a wound—a wound that looks strangely like a bite mark.

Your stomach violently turns as you’re reminded of the other night. Jaebeom was going to feed on you, possibly kill you… but he didn’t.

You murmur aloud before you can think, “Why?...”

“What?”

“Why did you stop?” Jaebeom’s face pales at your questions, indicating he knows exactly what you’re talking about. His throat visibly gulps before he uncrosses his arms and steadies himself back on his own feet.

“So you know…”

“Know you almost killed me?... Yeah. Kind of hard to forget something like that.”

Jaebeom shrugs. “You’d be surprised what people can forget under mind compulsion.”

“Mind compulsion?” Your eyebrows furrow as your head tilts in curiosity. “Don't tell me vampires can control minds?”

Jaebeom raises his eyebrows, his surrounding features contorting to a mixture of shock and amazement. His eyes shine, lingering over the planes of your face. As if you activated a switch, a sly smirk pulls across his lips. Perfectly complimenting the dangerous mischief swirling inside his dark brown irises.

“So you know what I am then…” Jaebeom chuckles. You don’t like the way his eyes seem to deviously flicker in the sunlight. “Your witch boyfriend must have you on vervain. That explains why my compulsion didn’t work.”

You ignore his mention of Mark. “Vervain? What’s that?”

“An herb. It’s poisonous to vampires.” He explains so casually. “It dulls our abilities, makes humans immune to compulsion, and burns like a fucking bitch.”

“How do you stand in the sun? Shouldn’t you erupt into flames or something?”

Jaebeom’s smirk seems to widen. “You ask a lot of questions, little dove. That can get you in trouble.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“And what makes you think that?” In a flash, Jaebeom is standing right in front of you, his hands threateningly cradling the sides of your head. His eyes bleed pure sadism and malice as he speaks, “I could break your sweet, fragile neck right here, and no one would even know…”

Any other person would be scared to death. But you know better.

“If you wanted to kill me, you would have in the alley.” You shake your head, reaching up to grab his wrists and tug his hands from your face. Prowess spills into your chest as his gaze grows surprised once again.

You nod. “Now, since Jinyoung isn’t here and I really don’t want to pay another hundred dollars to haul my ass back to town, you’re gonna help me understand how this whole vampire thing works.”

“I’m going to… what now?”

“You heard me.” You step past Jaebeom and enter the mansion, following the same pathway the previous woman took. You’re barely able to hold back a gasp at the regal interior that greets your entrance. Swallowing your awe, you peer over your shoulder at a rather confused Im Jaebeom and hum delicately, “You don’t happen to drink coffee? Do you?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I finished the boundary spell, Mark-hyung. No one can get step foot into the cemetery without us knowing.” Jinyoung watches Jisung step outside of his ritual circle, crafted from salt and the burning essence of various herbs. From across the way, Mark provides the younger witch a nod of encouragement before turning to face the Choi duo.

“You stocked up on enough energy, Youngjae?”

Youngjae disentangles his hand from Lia’s grasp, his skin ceasing the magical glow Jinyoung has seen many times in siphoners long before anyone in this particular coven was born. The witch hums, “Yes, hyung. I should have plenty to last.”

“Don’t count on it.” Mark shakes his head, tossing another smoldering herb into the center of the salt boundary. “We have no idea what we’re up against. Everyone needs to keep on their toes, and stay together.”

“Have you… fought something like this before?...” It takes a whole moment of silence for Jinyoung to realize Jisung had directed the question at him. Peering at the youngest witch with his usual blank expression, Jinyoung inhales a deep breath, attempting to push away the whiplash of memories that rage through his head.

Jinyoung answers, “I have faced many hunters and witches… but never as a pair.”

“So you’ve fought dark witches?...”

The inquiry surprises Jinyoung, but for what reason—he doesn’t know.

“It is not the witches who are dark—it is the magic.” He finally sighs after a long period of silence. “Dark magic plagues the mind like a parasite, laying its eggs in the user’s morals and logicalities until it builds into an infestation, and completely takes over the witch’s sanity.”

Jisung’s face visibly pales. “Does it… kill the witch?”

“In more ways than one.” Jinyoung catches Mark’s eyes. Inside them is an emotion he knows too well—guilt.

“Don’t worry, Sung.” Lia sidles beside the youngest witch, weaving her fingers with his own to provide a comforting squeeze. “Everything’s gonna be fine… right, Mark?”

Everyone’s eyes immediately trail to the head witch, and though he doubts anyone else could see, Jinyoung notices the aura of fear and apprehension oozing from Mark’s tense body. He can only imagine how Mark feels—terrified for the lives and wellbeing of the people he calls his family… Jinyoung hasn’t felt that pain in centuries, but it’s impossible to forget.

Especially when it comes to those you love.

With eyes of pure, determined fire, Mark nods.

“We do this for Nayeon.” He gathers the witches close, reaching across to take Lia and Jisung’s joint limbs in one hand while the other goes for Youngjae. Something inside Jinyoung’s chest seizes at the heartwarming sight… A memory of both him and Jaebeom suddenly rushes into his thoughts where their hands are tightly clasped between their bodies. Where they stand as brother’s united against the world.

Where did those times go…?

“—For Nayeon!” Jinyoung returns just in time to see the group disband from their minimal embrace. Lia and Jisung head back toward the mausoleum, probably to fetch more supplies for the battle just waiting over the horizon, while the remaining two witches approach Jinyoung. Each with a sullen expression along their features.

Jinyoung clears his throat. “You’re certain they’ll attack tonight?”

“It’s a new moon. Mina’s power will be it’s strongest.” Mark says, providing Jinyoung a grim frown. “Which is why all of us need to be careful. Like I said, we have no clue what to expect.”

The corners of Jinyoung’s lips slightly turn. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were actually concerned for me.”

Mark shakes his head, completely ignoring Jinyoung’s attempt at humor before shifting his focus to Youngjae. “Anything from Minho?”

“No, hyung. But Jisung left him a message to tell him to stay far away from the cemetery tonight.”

Mark releases a heavy breath and drags a hand down his face. “That douchebag is gonna get himself killed, goddamn it…”

“They will be looking for the entire coven, not a lone witch.” Jinyoung assures, feeling the need to expel the head witch’s anxiety. “Minho will be safe. Wherever he is.”

Mark meets Jinyoung’s gaze. “I hope you’re right.”

“We should go over the plan of action again.” Abandoning the intensity of Mark’s stare, Jinyoung turns at Youngjae’s offer, discovering the siphoner to already be looking in his direction.

There’s a subtle waver in Youngjae’s tone as he asks, “You remember what you have to do?”

Jinyoung nods cooly. “Once you immobilize the witch, I go for the huntress.”

“And you’re sure you can take her by yourself?”

“I’ve encountered and destroyed dozens of supernatural hunters over the years.” Jinyoung replies to Youngjae, earning a silent, but visible eye roll from the other witch. He ignores Mark’s annoyance, nodding again at the younger siphoner. “I’m strong enough.”

Jinyoung only hopes that will be true.

“Good.” Youngjae turns to Mark. “Once Mina steps foot onto our grounds, the spell will immediately take effect… She’ll be in pain. Immense, torturous pain.”

Jinyoung notices how Mark’s shoulders shiver at the description.

He gulps. “This will work. It has to.”

“It will.” Jinyoung offers again, placing a gentle hand against Mark’s elbow. The latter grows surprised for a moment, before a weak upturn of his lips signifies his gratitude.

Jinyoung immediately pulls away from Mark as a loud shriek erupts through the graveyard. The first to wake out of the alarmed stupor is Mark, who immediately shifts on his heel and dashes for the entrance of the cemetery, where the noise had previously erupted. Youngjae runs after him, followed closely behind by Jinyoung.

“Mark-hyung! Wait, don’t—”

“There’s someone here! Get Lia and Jisung out here!” Jinyoung provides Youngjae a nod, assuring the witch to follow his leader’s demand. The siphoner makes a break for the mausoleum while Jinyoung scales the rest of the distance toward the head witch, who’s standing mere feet from the iron gate that acts as the only access point into Eclipse Cemetery—where a shadowy figure is helplessly squirming on the graveled-earth.

Jinyoung grabs Mark’s wrist before he can lunge at the figure, frantically shaking his head. “Are you trying to get yourself killed!?”

“That son of a bitch murdered my friend—” Mark hisses, wrenching his limb away from Jinyoung’s grasp and pushing his body away with a hefty shove. “You don’t want to test the reliability of my self-control right now… so I suggest you back off and do your own damn job!”

“Wait for the others, at least!” Jinyoung urges, “Be smart about this, Mark! Trust me—!”

“Don’t tell me what to fucking—”

“Mark-hyung!” Surprise mirrors itself along both Jinyoung and Mark’s features. The head witch quickly leaves Jinyoung to kneel beside the figure hidden beneath the darkness of the moonless night. Jinyoung hurries to Mark’s side, his eyes widening to saucers at the familiar features he can barely make out in the obscurity.

Mark gapes. “Minho…?”

“Wh-What is—ha!.. Hap-happening?...” Minho manages to spill through gritted teeth with much struggle. Jinyoung recognizes the writhing and twitching of his limbs, as well as the wild nature of his gaze—Youngjae wasn’t lying about the pain.

“Shit, Minho—” Mark hurriedly mutters a counter-incantation beneath his breath, pulling the younger witch to lean against his chest. Even with the spell lifted, Minho continues to spasm and moan at the phantom waves that send pain through his form.

Mark shakes his head. “What in the actual hell are you doing here!?”

“What… What the fuck are you talking about?” Minho gasps, clutching onto the sleeves of Mark’s shirt as another wave passes through his veins. “You… called me, asshole!”

“What the fu—? I never called you! Jisung told you to stay home!”

“I-I… talked to you earlier.” Minho inhales something close to a wheeze before lightly poking Mark’s chest. “You told me to… to come to the ‘maus’ at mid-midnight…”

Jinyoung feels his blood run cold, but his tone is even colder:

“They knew it was a trap…”

Mark’s eyes are wild with desperation and fright as he meets Jinyoung’s gaze. “The others—” A loud, high-pitched wail cuts off Mark’s speech. Neither him nor Jinyoung waste any time and make a mad dash for the mausoleum, Jinyoung’s heart racing in his throat. The first thing he notices is the door of the structure—wide open and practically torn off its hinges.

“Youngjae! Lia! Jisung!” Mark screams, sprinting inside the mausoleum with no hesitation. Jinyoung pauses in the doorway, watching as the head witch frantically surveys the place, only to find it completely empty save for himself. Tears are glistening in his eyes as he shakes his head, “Where the fuck are they!? Oh my fucking god—”

“If the boundary spell caught Minho, then they could have gotten in anywhere!” Jinyoung steps aside just in time for Mark to race outside again. “We need to be careful! Especially if they have—!”

“Mark-hyung!” Youngjae’s call carries through the nightly breeze, brewing even more uncontrolled fear in Jinyoung’s chest.

“Youngjae!” Jinyoung can barely keep up with Mark’s frantic pace as he tears deeper into the graveyard, skipping over headstones and rounding tall statues with the skill of a professional athlete. He somehow manages to keep up. Just in arms reach of the head witch.

“Youngjae!? Youngjae!?” Mark sobs, pausing to peer through the continuous hills of graves and monuments for the forgotten. “Jisung!? Lia!? Where are you!?”

Through the very corner of his eye, Jinyoung notices a speck of movement emerge from behind a nearby tree. Time seems to slow as he focuses closer on that tree, immediately noticing a human-like shadow holding something between stoic hands—holding a loaded crossbow pointed directly at Mark.

Using every bout of vampiric strength in his possession, Jinyoung sprints toward the head witch just as the bolt leaves the barrel of the crossbow.

“Mark! Get down!”

“Jinyoung—!?”

Jinyoung can hear nothing but screams and the ringing of his own ears as he shields Mark’s body with his own. Somewhere deep inside, as the crossbow bolt pierces his flesh, he can hear something that fills his soul with immense warmth…

It’s your voice—telling him to go to hell, as he immediately succumbs to a violent wave of darkness.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“So you’re… a werewolf and a vampire?” Jaebeom watches your eyebrows raise to the heavens over the rim of his glass, swallowing the sweeter-than-sweet liquid before licking the remnants from his lips. He can’t remember the last time he sat down and had a cup of coffee, much less drank something that wasn’t straight from the vein.

To be honest, he’d much rather be feeding from the blonde woman waiting in his bedroom. But something about being with you is too addicting to pass up… and that scares him.

You shake your head. “Isn’t that like… ironic? Considering vampires and werewolves are sworn enemies?”

An amused chuckle spills from his lips as you fumble with your own teacup, barely managing to save its matching saucer before it clatters to the floor. Your annoyed glare pulls more laughter out of him, and it takes a good portion of his self-control not to smile.

After taking another sip of his coffee, Jaebeom shrugs. “I was born a werewolf, and it carried over when Jinyoung and I became vampires.”

“How did that happen anyway?” You lean back in your seat, crossing your legs at the ankle with a tilt of your head. “I mean, did you and Jinyoung choose to become…what you are?”

“Yes and no,” He hums.

“So you chose to become monsters?”

“You consider my brother and I monsters…?”

Jaebeom doesn’t like the serious expression that pulls across your features. “I know you’ve killed a lot of people… and have done some pretty fucked up things.”

“A millennium is a long time to be alive, little dove.” Your obvious distaste at the nickname fills his chest with comedic pleasure. He smirks, “You get a little bored after a while.”

“Normal people read books when they’re bored, or find a new hobby.”

“Killing isn’t a hobby then…?”

Your response is a look of pure disgust.

Jaebeom howls in laughter before inhaling the remainder of his coffee in one gulp. He heaves a sigh, peering out the large, stained-glass window. Partly to recollect his thoughts. Partly to allow the obvious tension to dissipate between his and your forms.

Now inside his own head, Jaebeom wonders whether or not he should have said such a barbaric statement in the first place. If it were anyone else, Jaebeom would care less about protecting his image—but it’s you. And something inside him warns him to be careful around you… Very, very careful.

“Jinyoung and I were children when we found each other.” Jaebeom sighs, feeling the weight of your surprised gaze on the side of his face. “After my own caregivers abandoned me, he convinced his parents to take me in… It wasn’t until I lived inside their home did I realize how cruel they were.”

“Cruel…?”

“Jinyoung was a bastard child.” He explains, “His mother had an affair with a village merchant. After his father found out, he murdered his wife’s lover and made Jinyoung’s life a living hell.”

Jaebeom rises from his armchair and grabs his empty cup before heading for the liquor tray in front of the same window he was previously staring out. While pouring himself a drink, Jaebeom makes sure to raise his voice so you can still hear:

“For years, I watched that asshole beat the shit out of Jinyoung while his mother and sisters sat back and didn’t do a goddamn thing.” He downs the brandy in one sweet gulp before selecting a stronger bottle of scotch. Not bothering with his cup, Jaebeom unscrews the cap and takes a long, drawn-out swig from the container. Fire erupts through his belly, sending the beginning of a pleasurable buzz through his veins.

“One day I got fed up with it all, and when the fucker tried to lash Jinyoung for refusing to shoot a fawn, I took that belt right out of his hands, wrapped it around his neck, and squeezed and squeezed until the light left his eyes…”

Through the corner of his eye, Jaebeom notices how your body grows tense at his confession.

He whirls around to meet your gaze, pushing away the pestering emotions without so much as a blink before continuing, “We were banished by his family and the other villagers, but we didn’t care—we had each other, and we needed no one else.

“We encountered a witch one day, as we were walking through the forest.” Jaebeom says after another sip, “She told us she could give us a gift like no other: Eternal life. We only had to take part in a ritual, and death would never come for us.”

You shake your head. “Why? Why would you want to live forever?”

“If you were given the chance to be invincible against everything, even time, wouldn’t a small part of you be somewhat interested?”

He allows you a moment to ponder his question. After maybe a minute or so, you release a silent huff and gesture for him to continue.

“The witch tricked us though, and in trade for immortality, we were forced to sacrifice our humanity.”

Your eyes widen. “So you didn’t… choose to become vampires?”

“No.” Jaebeom sets down his bottle with one hand while carding his fingers through his hair with the other. “Anyway, Jinyoung and I spent decades learning how to manage our newfound abilities, and even longer on how to handle the lifestyle.”

“If you and Jinyoung were the first—the Prime Two—did you create more vampires?”

He chuckles with a sigh, “Yes. Though it was by accident how we found out.

“Fledgling vampires branched off from our bloodline are different. They’re not as fast, nor as strong, nor as powerful as us.” Jaebeom explains, “Jinyoung and I can compel humans and other vampires, but vampires can only compel humans.”

“Are fledglings immortal too?”

“To some extent.” Crossing back across the room, Jaebeom lowers into the armchair beside your own. Now close enough to see the curious spark of wonder in your irises. “It is possible for a fledgling to live forever, but unlike Jinyoung and I, fledglings can be killed with a wooden stake through the heart.”

“Nice to know that much is true.” Jaebeom relishes the borderline amused chuckle that leaves your lips, playing the odd elation off as the effects of the alcohol. “Is it also true that a bite from a vampire turns you into a vampire?”

He snorts, “Let me guess… Got that from Twilight?

“Just answer the question.”

“The only way to become a vampire is if you die with vampire blood in your system.” He hums, “After you die, you’ll wake up in transition, and will need to drink human blood to complete the transformation.”

“And if you choose not to complete it?”

“Then you die for real.”

You shift at his answer, finding interest in the chipped edge of your cup. Jaebeom wonders whether he should change the topic of interest, but before he can think up some possible options, you steer the conversation yourself:

“You never told me why.”

His eyebrows raise in confusion. “What?”

“Why you left me in that alleyway.”

For the first time, Jaebeom feels vulnerable underneath the scrutiny of your eyes. He fidgets uncomfortably, and like you, searches the room for another object to hold his attention. However, whether it’s because of the whiskey, or something else, his gaze returns to and remains rooted on your own.

What is it about you? The thought spirals through his thoughts like a 2-seater plane with broken wings. Maybe he should have listened to Jinyoung, and stayed away from you in the first place. Because whatever game you’re playing, whatever spell you have him under… it’s messing with his head.

And he doesn’t like to be fucked around with.

Finally, after what seems like hours, Jaebeom shakes his head. “I don’t kn—”

A sudden crash emerges from the foyer, effectively interrupting his explanation. Jaebeom leaps from his seat and speeds in front of where you’re sitting, shielding your form from the entryway where the noise sounded. His protective stance vanishes, however, at the figure that appears in the doorway.

Jaebeom tsks. “Oh. Look who finally decided to show up.”

“Jinyoung…?” Jaebeom steps aside to allow you to step forward, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He moves to fetch himself another drink when your exclaim stops him, “Holy shit! What the hell happened to you!?”

Upon taking care to really look at his brother, Jaebeom understands the reason for your concern. Jinyoung’s usual clean-cut and formal appearance is nonexistent. From head to toe, he’s covered in dirt, and his dark hair is far past disheveled. His clothes are badly torn and wrinkled, and practically soaked in fresh blood. Jaebeom quickly realizes the blood does belong to Jinyoung, noticing the large, thick bolt protruding from his chest.

Jinyoung winces, “It’s a long story… but if you don’t mind, I’d like to sit down first.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The gleam of the awakening sun rising over the horizon sears Yugyeom’s eyes, but he keeps his gaze fixated on the entryway of the cemetery. No matter how much the newfound sunlight burns his eyes, he continues to watch the shadows of the night disperse in fear of the approaching morning. He knows pain all too well.

“Gyeom?”

Yugyeom greets Chan silently, with a curt nod. His stare remains frozen on the gate.

Chan sidles up beside him until they are shoulder to shoulder. His own gaze glances at Yugyeom’s point of interest for a moment before he turns to look at his companion in the early morning glow. Through his peripheral vision, Yugyeom can spot Chan’s grim expression.

“How’s the coven?” Yugyeom asks after a long bout of silence.

Chan shrugs, “Minho, Jisung and Lia were all sleeping when I left. And Youngjae, he’s…” When his voice trails off, Yugyeom doesn’t urge Chan to finish his sentence. He knows exactly how Youngjae is right now.

Terrified.

“What should we do with the body?”

Yugyeom barely blinks. “Probably best to burn it. Can’t leave anything up to chance.”

Chan hums in agreement, seemingly ready to return to the mausoleum, but to Yugyeom’s surprise, Chan remains in place. Another long, tense round of silence carries between them, filling Yugyeom’s head with even more heart wrenching memories. After another mind-spiralling hurricane or two, Chan breaks the silence again:

“We made the right decision. If we got here any later, that huntress would have killed everyone.”

Yugyeom shakes his head, “The huntress was working with a witch, and we only found the one… We should have gotten here sooner.”

“Youngjae thinks the huntress was working alone tonight.” Chan says, lifting his palm to shield his eyes from the blinding sunrise. “There were no traces of unfamiliar magic… nor did we catch anyone else’s scent in the cemetery.”

“Then where is the witch?” Yugyeom moves his attention away from the graveyard entrance, and with aching eyes, turns to meet his Alpha’s downcast gaze, “And more importantly, where the hell is Mark-hyung…?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

You hold back a wince as Jaebeom literally tears the bolt from Jinyoung’s chest, earning a pained grunt from said victim. Dark blood splatters from the now open wound, painting across Jaebeom’s skin and adding even more stains to Jinyoung’s unsalvageable shirt. Disgust fills your gut as Jaebeom offers Jinyoung what seems to be a glass of blood—probably from that blonde woman you encountered at the door.

Jinyoung shakes his head and pushes the drink away. “No. I’m alright.”

“You would have healed by now if you were.” Jaebeom tries again, “Just take a sip.”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” Your eyes widen in both surprise and revulsion, watching Jaebeom knock back the glass and down the blood in one large gulp. Fighting back a wave of nausea, you carefully approach the wounded vampire, holding forth a clean towel.

Jinyoung takes the garment and sends a grateful smile in return. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

You nod, “Sure.”

Jinyoung presses the bunched fabric to his gaping wound, hissing through gritted teeth at the sudden pressure. You wonder whether or not you should grab the emergency Tylenol from your bag… Does pain medication even work on vampires? Aren’t they technically dead?

“We were ambushed at the cemetery.” Jinyoung explains, pulling you from your foolish thoughts. “After the huntress shot me, I must have hit my head and knocked myself out.”

“Sounds like a pretty unfortunate story.”

Jinyoung chuckles at your joke before continuing, “When I came to, the wolf pack had killed her and Mark was gone.”

Panic immediately spreads through your veins like flames to dry wood. “Mark? What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I’m not sure. We searched the entire graveyard, but there was no sign of him.”

You open your mouth to inquire further, but Jaebeom’s loud exhale cuts you off. Both you and Jinyoung turn to peer at the hybrid, finding him staring out the large window while drumming his fingertips against the red- and blue-stained glass. After a quiet moment filled with the rhythm of his fingers and Jinyoung’s marred breathing, Jaebeom peers over his shoulder—his eyes glaring daggers straight at his brother.

Jinyoung shakes his head. “Hyung—”

“I told you not to get involved with Tuan.” The dark, bitter tone that leaves Jaebeom’s lips sends a harsh shiver down your spine, more so since the comment included mention of your best friend.

“And I told you I’m taking care of it.”

“Can you not just do what you’re fucking told just once? Just one goddamn time—?”

To both your and Jaebeom’s surprise, Jinyoung suddenly leans forward in his seat and retches violently. You rush forward, splaying your hands across his back while asking about his condition. Your response is another retching noise, and in just the nick of time, you manage to step out of the way before Jinyoung vomits red across the carpet.

“Fucking god, Jinyoung! What the hell is wrong with him!?” You call out to Jaebeom, squeezing Jinyoung’s shoulders as he heaves again. After another gag or two, you help Jinyoung to lean back into the armchair, wiping the bloody remnants from his lip with a towelette. Your knuckles brush the arch of his cheekbone—his skin is hot to the touch.

“He’s burning up! What do we do!?”

“It’s… werewolf venom.” Jinyoung gasps, weakly pulling your wrist away from his face.

You shake your head, “W-Werewolf venom?”

“A werewolf’s bite is deadly to vampires.” Jaebeom explains, barely batting an eyelash as Jinyoung lurches forward with another gag.

“But he wasn’t bitten? How the hell—?”

“The crossbow bolts must have been poisoned.” Your anxiety skyrockets, worriedly staring as Jinyoung begins to choke on his own blood. Jaebeom glances outside the window again, murmuring, “He won’t die… The effects will pass in a day or so.”

“But can’t you heal him!?” You jump to your feet, narrowly avoiding a puddle of dark blood before dashing over to Jaebeom. Your fingers desperately latch onto the lapels of his leather jackets, tugging him down to meet your eyes. “You’re a hybrid, so your blood should technically flush the venom out of his system? Right?”

Jaebeom’s lips twitch. “You’re smart, little dove. I’ll give you that.”

“So you’ll heal him?”

You wait in utter agony as the hybrid considers your request, staring blankly at the features of your face. You can only imagine how much you resemble a crazed, mad woman, but you can care less. Right now, your sole focus is on Jinyoung and ending whatever horrible fate awaits. Jaebeom wouldn’t let his best friend—the man he calls his brother—suffer in absolute anguish…

Not when he killed Jinyoung’s own father to protect him.

After a miserable moment of silence, Jaebeom releases a heavy exhale through his nose before meeting your gaze. The bubble of hope expands inside your chest when the hybrid offers a weak smile, lifting a hand to brush a stray hair from your forehead. You shiver as that same hand lightly grasps your chin, guiding your face closer until you can taste the alcohol on Jaebeom’s breath.

All in a matter of seconds, that bubble of hope pops at Jaebeom’s curt answer:

“No.”

You watch in horror as Jaebeom releases your chin, turns on his heel, and leaves you by your lonesome with a wounded Jinyoung, and even more wounded soul.

59 notes · View notes

gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years ago

Link

Rating: G

Summary: When Marinette has to cook for her family reunion, Adrien offers to help. Only one problem: he has no idea how to cook. With Plagg's help, Adrien proposes a Disney-inspired solution that will either keep him from making a fool of himself, or backfire terribly. (Spoiler alert: it backfires terribly.) A university-aged Adrinette reveal fic.

Word Count: 6437

XXX

“Plagg, what am I going to do? I don’t know how to cook!” Adrien pulled at his hair as he paced circles around his apartment.

Plagg, meanwhile, lazily hovered with his paws crossed behind his head. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you tried to swoop in like some kind of superhero.”

“I am a superhero.” Not that it mattered, because his superpower was destruction. Maybe his Lady would’ve been able to help Marinette cook dinner for her family reunion, but Adrien was … well. Even though the cat miraculous didn’t actually make him more disaster prone, he had enough bad luck in the kitchen on his own. He’d survived on spaghetti and takeout since moving into his own apartment this semester.

“Why don’t you just tell her you can’t do it? Something came up. You fell headfirst into a pool of cream cheese. You got zapped by an akuma and all your hair fell out.”

“That hasn’t happened in at least a month. Besides, I can’t flake out on Marinette. She needs me.” He stood up straighter.

“What she needs is someone who won’t turn soup into an explosive. What about your friend Alya? Isn’t her mom some kind of chef?”

“She’s out of town for Christmas. Nino too, or I’d ask him to help me.” Did he know anyone else who could teach him how to cook in one night? Kagami was back in Japan, Chloe wouldn’t touch an oven to save her life, Luka was on tour with XY… Ladybug was pretty much his only friend still in town. She would probably be willing to teach him, but on their last patrol she’d mentioned she’d be busy the next few days with her own plans.

“You need to get some more friends, kid.”

“It’s kind of late for that,” Adrien murmured. Too many people in his classes were more interested in the Gabriel name than in him. Besides, he might not have made a lot of new friends, but he’d gotten much closer to Marinette and his old friends now that he had more control over his schedule.

“Well, as your very first and best friend—”

“Chloe was technically my first friend.”

Plagg glared. “As your first and best friend, I will help you for the low low price of two wheels of Camembert.”

Adrien stopped pacing. He only realized he’d ended up in the bathroom when he caught a glimpse of his reflection.

“Wait. You know how to cook?”

Plagg scoffed. “I’ve been alive since the dawn of time. I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You also thought that my blender was a jet tub for kwamis.”

“Okay, so you humans have invented some fancy new gadgets since I was last out, big deal. I still know more about cooking than you.”

Unfortunately, he was probably right.

“Alright. Deal.” Adrien held out a finger, and he and Plagg shook on it.

“Alright, loverboy, let’s get cooking.”

XXX

“No, not like that! What are you trying to do, knock someone out with that thing?”

“At least I wouldn’t do it with the smell!” Adrien instinctively waved the frying pan in front of his nose, and the burned remnants of roux glopped out onto the tile.

“Coward. It’ll taste good once you put it all together.”

Adrien wasn’t convinced. But then again, he hadn’t followed Plagg’s instructions exactly. Plagg never gave him quite enough time to pour the ingredients in the pan or measure the spices with the little spoons.

“I wish you’d be able to help me while I’m there.” Adrien sighed. “I’m going to forget all of this as soon as I leave.”

“You can’t be good at everything, I guess.” Plagg shrugged. “You can still always call your girlfriend and say you gave up.”

“She’s a good friend. We’ve been over this.” He’d promised not to call Marinette ‘just a friend’ on the grounds that she deserved better than that. But she still wasn’t his girlfriend. Which was fine, so why did his stomach sink slightly? Probably just nervousness about the task ahead of him.

“And I’m not giving up. What if you just … hid in my hair and whispered advice?”

Plagg tapped his chin. “Maybe if you wear a hat …” A grin suddenly split his tiny face. “Hey, what if you wore that ug—uh, that beret Ladybug gave you? You know, from your fan club?”

“Great idea!” Adrien bolted out of the bathroom and towards his closet. He wore the hat every once in a while—its ridiculous energy was too good to leave hidden like it had been in lycée. He made a special point of wearing it to every meeting with his dad, though he did feel a little bit nervous of wearing it around Marinette. She was in their university’s design program; she’d probably think it was tacky.

Oh well. He’d probably been tackier around her before.

“You sure you’ll fit in here?” Adrien squinted at the underside of the beret before pulling it over his hair.

“Looks cozy enough to me.” Plagg slipped under, and Adrien felt him shuffle around. Unfortunately, his voice was too muffled for Adrien to make out after that.

“Plagg?”

“Blegh.” The kwami scrambled back out and scraped his tongue with his paws. “Your hair tastes like shampoo. I can’t talk without getting a mouthful of it.”

“Guess that isn’t going to work …” He pursed his lips as he adjusted the beret. “It’s too bad real life isn’t like Ratatouille. You could just tug on my hair and do all the cooking for me.”

Unless …?

“Oh no, don’t give me that look.” Plagg crossed his arms. “That’s just a movie. Though it would be nice to show you what it feels like to get dragged around for a change …”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Adrien didn’t really think it would work either, but Plagg was magic.

“Fine. But I’m upping my price to three wheels.”

Plagg slipped back under the beret, and Adrien felt a tugging sensation on his scalp. But nothing seemed to happen.

“Guess that was a pretty dumb idea,” he admitted sheepishly.

Then green light crackled from his ring.

His arms flung into the air.

“Ack! Plagg, did you do that?”

Adrien heard a muffled cackle from under the hat. Then his legs started walking towards the refrigerator.

“Okay, so this is … working? This is working!”

Plagg missed a few times before guiding his hand to pull open the fridge. Of course, his next step was to reach for a wedge of Camembert and hold it up to his head.

“The sweet taste of victory,” Plagg said while popping out to swallow the wedge whole.

“More like the rotten taste of old cheese.”

But Adrien still grinned. However Plagg had pulled off his puppeteer trick, Adrien wasn’t going to make a fool of himself tomorrow.

XXX

“Adrien!” Marinette threw her arms around him as soon as she opened the door. “Thank goodness you’re here. My parents just called and they got a last-minute order and—eep!” She sprung back, her eyes wide as she stared at his beret.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to feel embarrassed. Marinette wouldn’t judge him based on what he wore. “It was an old gift. I like that it drives my father crazy.”

Plus, Ladybug had hand-delivered it, but she probably didn’t care about that.

“W-well then, it’s perfect.” She grinned too wide. “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a hat before.”

“You’ve definitely—”

“Anyway, no time for that! There’s only five hours before Uncle Wang gets here. Nonna is already at my parent’s, and my other grandma and grandpa are coming for the first time since Mom moved here. Not to mention fourteen of my cousins I’ve never met and their parents!” Marinette rushed towards the small kitchen, which was already full of steaming pots and used pans. She threw on her pink oven mitts and pulled a tray of golden-brown pastries out of the oven.

Adrien swallowed. Marinette’s kitchen might look like a war zone, but she clearly knew what she was doing. What if he just got in the way?

“How did you end up in charge of the food?” he asked while throwing on a mint-green apron from inside the pantry door. Her great-uncle was a world-class chef, and her parents owned a bakery. Her grandpa Rolland had even taught mice how to bake.

“I’m not in charge. I just need to help a little since Uncle Wang is running late, and the reunion starts tonight, and Grandpa won’t bake anything in bulk because ‘that’s not how it’s done’’—she used a gruff imitation of his voice—“and my parents have so much bakery work to do. I’m just trying to do what I can.”

She sighed as she stirred a pot of wonton soup. “Unfortunately, I can’t do a lot.”

“What are you talking about? It looks like you could feed an army with all this.”

He carefully dodged Marinette as she scrambled in a drawer for a fork. She tested the rice noodles boiling behind the soup, then grimaced and slumped against the counter, fork nearly slipping from her fingers. Her hair was falling out of her bun, and flour smudged her pink apron, contrasting with the splatters of dark sauce.

“I hope so. There’s just … so much to live up to, you know? Everyone on both sides of my family cooks. And now I have to merge styles from two different cultures in a way that will please everyone …”

Her gaze swept across the counter, where dumplings and quiches, brothy soups and thin crêpes—even ratatouille, ironically—lay in various stages of completion. The savory and sweet fragrances somehow melded together in harmony.

“I know I can’t understand how hard that must be. About trying to bridge two different sides of your family, I mean. But you’re amazing, Marinette.” He stepped closer to her and brushed a streak of flour off of her cheek. “You’ve already worked so hard on all this; I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t love it. May I?”

He gestured to a spoon sitting in one of the soups, and she nodded. He raised it to his lips and sipped the tangy broth. A bit of crunchy bamboo shoot added texture to the savory liquid. He didn’t want to eat too much—it was for her family, not him—but if it weren’t for that, he could’ve downed the whole bowl. He could practically taste the love and care she’d put into it.

“See? Amazing.” He grinned. “Just like the rest of the food we’re going to make.”

At least, the food she made would be amazing. He just hoped that what he made with Plagg’s help would be edible. And not offend her family.

Her lips parted before curving into a smile. “Right. Thank you, Adrien.”

She paused, staring for a moment, until one of the shallow pots started bubbling over.

“Ack! The filling!”

She rushed to switch off the burner and remove the lid before sighing loudly. “I think it’s still alright. Now I just need to fold this into the dough …”

“Can I help with that?” he asked, feeling like a rock in the middle of a river as Marinette flowed between the cooking stations around him.

“Huh? Oh—um, why don’t you work on filling the crêpes instead? This baozi is a Chinese dish, and it’s my first time making it by myself. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer! You were so sweet to come at all, and—”

“Marinette.” He squeezed her shoulder gently, wishing he could relieve some ot the tension there. “I’ll do the crêpes.”

She let out a breath. “Thanks. I was going to do a pear-hazelnut filling, if you’re okay with that? The pears are in the bottom right drawer of the fridge, and the hazelnuts are on the middle shelf in the panty. All the spices are up there.” She pointed to the cabinet above the sink.

“Sounds perfect,” he said with the fake confidence he usually saved for his modeling jobs.

Before he could ask for a recipe, she went back to work, leaving him to his own devices in front of a stack of unfilled crêpes. A mixture of the rich smells and his own nerves started to turn his stomach.

“Are you ready, Plagg?” he whispered, adjusting his beret.

In response, his scalp twinged, and then his hand rose and formed a thumbs-up.

“Well, here we go.” He cracked his knuckles.

He rinsed out a pan that it looked like Marinette had previously used for some kind of stir fry. That wouldn’t be a problem, would it? It looked like every other pan in the apartment was in use already.

Marinette didn’t stop to correct him. Then again, she seemed to be in ten places at once, adding spices and stirring and adjusting dials and rummaging through cupboards, all in between filling her baozi. Watching her work was so mesmerizing it was almost too easy to ignore his own job.

Until Plagg started tugging his hair again, anyway.

This is going to be weird, he thought while Plagg directed his hands to chop the pears. He was pretty sure he could’ve done that himself—he didn’t want his kwami chopping off one of his fingers. But resisting at this point would just increase his chances of accidentally getting stabbed.

Besides, Plagg was fast. He diced the five pears in the time it probably would’ve taken Adrien to cut up one. Granted, he also left a juicy mess on the counter, but it sounded like they were on too much of a deadline to worry about that.

Plagg tossed them into the pan, cores and all. Adrien frowned at that.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered.

“What?” Marinette asked from where she was stretching out dough.

“Um, nothing! I just, uh, talk to myself while I cook.”

“Oh, me too. I was just trying not to do it in front of you. You know, in case I sounded crazy.” She laughed, seeming to release a little bit of tension. “I think I picked it up from my mom. She always says the steps out loud as she does them so she doesn’t forget which one she’s on.”

He smiled at the image of her doing this with Mrs. Cheng. “Did you cook with your mom a lot?”

“I don’t think I’d say a lot. I was pretty busy in lycée, and I didn’t appreciate her culture as much as I do now. I wish I would’ve learned more.”

“It looks like you learned a lot if you can put all this together.”

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

He retrieved the hazelnuts and tossed them into the pan. She still had her back to him, the baozi taking up most of her attention. Should he ask her to check his work so far? Plagg didn’t hesitate to nab some spices from the high cabinet and start sprinkling them into the pan.

“Wait—not that one!” he hissed, trying to drop the shaker that read chili powder before Plagg could add it.

“Adrien? Is something wrong?”

He spun, quickly shoving the container behind his back. “No! Everything’s just peachy—er, pear-y.”

She giggled at his joke, even though it had to be one of his lamest puns yet.

“Okay, but you can let me know if you need help. Sorry I just kind of threw you into this.” Her arm gently brushed his as she dialed back the heat on the noodles. “Um—is there a reason you’re holding chili powder?”

“I was just moving it so I could reach the, uh…”

Plagg helpfully directed his arm towards a different spice.

“... garlic salt?”

Marinette blinked, and he hastily shoved the garlic salt back, selecting cinnamon instead. He should’ve known that trusting the kwami who liked eating rotten cheese would be a mistake.

“You’re so funny, Adrien.” She laughed again. “But, um, you might want to double check your pears. I think some of those still have the cores in them.”

His face flushed. Thanks a lot, Plagg.

He picked out the cores with a pair of tongs, hoping that his kwami wouldn’t try to take over again. Adrien might be bad at cooking, but at least he wasn’t going to try and poison Marinette’s family.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much idea of what to do next. He’d turned the burner on high, and the pears were starting to sizzle. How did nuts cook? That didn’t make a lot of sense to him. He probably needed something liquidy to go with them, right?

Aaaand the pears already smelled like they were burning. He quickly flipped back the knob while he searched for something to turn into a sauce. Milk? That would make it nice and creamy, right?

He grabbed the half-gallon from the fridge and splashed a bit into the pan. Drops splattered the counter, and he winced.

That was when Plagg again decided to take over. Adrien grit his teeth as he selected the block of muenster from the cheese drawer. That definitely didn’t belong in the crêpe filling, but Adrien couldn’t get him to stop without making a scene in front of Marinette. Who would then wonder why he was yelling at himself, and either think he was insane or find out his secret identity. Both of which would be unacceptable.

He growled, hoping Plagg would get the message. If he did, he didn’t show it. At least Marinette didn’t hear over her own soft humming.

The sliced cheese went into the pan, plopping wetly in the milk. Maybe the finished product would surprise him, and cheese and pears would create a tasty sweet-savory combo, and Marinette would be super impressed by his originality, and she’d invite him over to cook with him again, and they’d make a cute romantic dinner together …

He banished that daydream before he could think too much of it.

By that point Plagg was using his arm to whisk the milk and melting cheese together. The pears and hazelnuts had settled to the bottom of the pan. He frowned as the whisk failed to unstick them.

“This isn’t working,” he said under his breath. “We might need to start over.”

He swore he could hear Plagg’s irritated sigh. But the kwami jerked the pan up, taking it towards the sink.

“Hey, what are you—Plagg!” he shouted before he could stop himself.

Plagg dropped the pan in the sink, spraying hot milk-cheese-pear slime all over the backsplash. And all over Adrien’s apron.

And, most importantly, all over his face.

“Adrien!” Marinette dropped her unfinished dumpling back on the counter. Filling spilled out as she rushed to his side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

He hurriedly tried to splash cold water on his face, but spilled it more down his shirt than anything. She offered him a damp hand towel, which was much more helpful.

“I’m so sorry.” His face still burned, but not from the hot food.

“It’s okay! Accidents happen—trust me, I would know.” She smiled before her eyes widened. “Oh no, your beret!”

“What?” He slapped his hands to his head, prompting a tiny yelp from Plagg. So he was still there. Under his hat. Which was still on his head. Phew.

“It’s got milk on it.” Marinette reached up like she intended to take it off.

“No!” he shouted, and she stepped back, startled.

“S-sorry! I just thought I’d help you clean it off, since it seems so, um, important to you.”

“I like it with the milk on it. It adds, uh, character?”

He heard Plagg snicker from beneath the beret.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “If you need to take a break, or, um, get a new shirt … n-not that I want you to take off your shirt! Uh—forget I said that.”

She shook her head, and more strands fell out of her bun.

He frowned down at his shirt. Unfortunately, the splatter had made it under his apron, and his shirt was pretty gross. He even felt a slimy pear sliding down under his collar.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Finishing all the food for your reunion is more important.”

“No, don’t worry. I can handle it. Just having you here to keep me from freaking out has helped more than you know.”

She took the towel back from him with a smile. Frankly, he was still surprised she wasn’t angry with him. He’d come to help, and all he’d done so far was waste her time.

“I’m really not bothering you?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Bad idea. His hands were still a bit wet and sticky.

“You could never bother me, Adrien.” Her cheeks pinked before she turned back to fiddle with the soup.

“Really? I thought …” He bit his lip, remembering how many times he’d startled Marinette before. How many times he’d seemed to make her uncomfortable, or awkward, or … he wasn’t really sure what. There had always been something keeping them apart, no matter how close they became.

Maybe it’s just your little crush, Plagg would’ve teased. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to talk while trapped under the beret.

“Thought what?” she asked once she’d added some seasonings to the soup.

“I thought I’d be your last pick for cooking help,” he said, which wasn’t quite a lie. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I … well, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Best to just admit it now, rather than after he’d ruined her family reunion.

Marinette blinked before covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known you probably never cooked at your house. And here I am just asking you to throw together a crêpe filling!”

“It’s okay! I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve told you, I just … I wanted to impress you.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted that much. He was sure he heard Plagg laughing from under his hat.

“You … wanted to impress … me?” She pointed to herself, as if there was anyone else in the kitchen he might have been talking about.

“Is that really so surprising?”

“Uh—yeah, actually.” Marinette stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Plagg hadn’t peeked out, had he? “I might be able to cook, but you’re good at everything. Fencing, basketball, Mandarin—which took me ages to get halfway decent at—not to mention you’re drop-dead gorgeous—”

His heart stopped. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

“I mean—you’re a model; of course you’re gorgeous! It’s literally your job. I bet people call you gorgeous all the time.”

“Not when I’m covered in slimy food, though.” He grinned. She thought he was drop-dead gorgeous! Maybe he hadn’t made too much of a mess after all.

“Well—you would be a lot more gorgeous if you took off that stupid beret!” She pointed at his head.

“W-what?” He pulled it down over his ears. “This is my emotional support beret. I can’t take it off or I’ll cry.”

“Why did you have to pick that one, though? It’s so—I don’t know!” She gestured vaguely. “It looks like a fourteen-year-old made it!”

He pouted at her. “Hey, be nice. It was probably fashionable in Brazil at the time.”

It did look pretty silly, but that was its appeal. Fashion-savvy Marinette probably wouldn’t understand that.

“R-right. In Brazil.” She shook her head. “Why do you like it though?”

He blushed. Aside from spitting in the face of the Gabriel brand, it also reminded him of the day Ladybug had appeared in his room. That serendipitous event had never happened before or since.

“How embarrassing does it sound if I say my old crush delivered it to me?”

“Your—your crush?” She blinked. “But then—you had a crush on Ladybug?”

The soup started bubbling again, but she made no move to quiet it.

“Of course I have a crush on Ladybug. I’m pretty sure all of Paris has a crush on—wait, how did you know Ladybug was the one to deliver it?”

Marinette’s face went pale. “I—um, well, I … I think the soup is burning!”

She rushed to stir it again, but Adrien caught her hand.

“Wait, Marinette, please.” His heart beat faster. He’d never told anyone about Ladybug’s visit. She hadn’t been surprised when he mentioned Brazil, either.

But what could he say? Come out and ask her if she was Ladybug? That would be too good to be true, right? Marinette couldn’t be Ladybug; he’d seen them together once. But he’d pulled crazy stunts to protect his identity too.

She bit her lip, but didn’t pull her hand from his.

“I can’t answer that question, Adrien.”

It wasn’t a confirmation. But it wasn’t a denial either.

It had been five years. Five years, and he still didn’t know who his partner was. If she was here, in front of him, after all this time …

… he’d still respect her choice not to tell him. As much as it hurt, he’d do it.

“Alright.” He sighed. “I get it.”

An uncomfortable silence pushed between them, punctured only by the bubbling soup and beeping oven. The first batch of Marinette’s baozi was done; she removed them without speaking.

Why couldn’t they go back to five minutes ago, when she’d called him gorgeous? He was already thrilled to hear Marinette say that. But if she was his Lady too? He’d melt just like that cheese in the pan.

It was going to drive him crazy if he thought about it too long. He turned on the faucet, hoping that the loud water would drown out his thoughts as he did the dishes. At least that was one task he could accomplish without ruining any more of Marinette’s food.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, barely audible over the running tap.

“What for?” He was the one pushing the boundaries between them. If she was even Ladybug at all. Maybe he’d managed to misinterpret everything, but he couldn’t see how.

“For not being honest with you. I wish I could, I swear.” Her hands squeezed her dough, and it oozed out between her fingers.

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” he said with resignation. Ladybug was the Guardian. She couldn’t risk revealing her identity. Even if it felt unfair, he should be used to it by now.

But before, you didn’t think Ladybug was one of your best friends.

Even more than that, if he was honest with himself. He’d wanted to be closer to Marinette for a long time now. What if he was just deluding himself with wishful thinking?

“I wish I didn’t, sometimes,” she murmured.

He switched off the faucet and turned to face her. Maybe some things needed to stay secret, but not everything.

“Marinette?” He swallowed.

She looked up from where she’d been absently rolling the dough again. So much for not wasting her time.

“Y-yeah?”

He didn’t expect to confess to her while standing in her kitchen, with Plagg hiding under his old beret, with his clothes covered in the ruined crêpe filling. But it was important, and if he could finally admit it to himself, the least he could do was admit it to her.

“I don’t just have a crush on Ladybug.”

“You—you don’t?”

Was it just his imagination, or did she deflate a little?

“She’s still very important to me. I know she always will be. But I’ve come to realize how important you are to me, too.” He watched her face as he spoke, but her wide eyes were impossible to read. Hopefully he wasn’t ruining everything with what he was about to say.

“I like you, Marinette. As more than a friend. And I would never want to make you uncomfortable. All I’ve ever wanted is to be closer to you.”

For a moment, her face didn’t change. She just stood there, staring blankly, like someone had pressed a pause button. He would’ve thought Bunnyx had stopped time to reset his screw-up if it weren’t for the soup continuing to boil over.

“Marinette?” he prodded, his stomach beginning to bubble as nervously as that soup.

She jumped. “Yes, I—comfort you me make—yike lou—”

A stream of incoherent noises followed that. Oh no, he’d broken her! Why couldn’t Plagg have taken over and stopped him from talking?

“—ugh! I thought I dopped stewing this years ago!” She dropped her burning face into her hands.

Adrien reached out to touch her shoulder and then thought better of it. His arm fell limply to his side.

“I’m so sorry. You can just forget I said anything. I’ll—I’ll let you finish up the food and get out of your way—”

“No!” She waved her hands, startling him so bad he stepped back—and slipped in a puddle of spilled dishwater.

“Adrien!” She caught the front of his apron as he fell, but that just meant she was pulled down on top of him.

He yelped as his head cracked against the linoleum. At least she landed on his chest, his arms cradling her.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry—AAAAAH!”

“What, what!?” He sat up as she scrambled off of him.

That was when he caught sight of the striped beret lying in the puddle next to him.

Oh no.

Plagg laughed nervously from where he was tangled in Adrien’s hair. “Hey, Pigtails.”

“Chat?” Marinette smacked her hands to her cheeks. “You’re—you’re Chat Noir?”

“Surprise!” Plagg wasn’t in Adrien’s line of sight, but he could hear the grin in his kwami’s voice.

“Where’s Bunnyx when you need her?” Adrien groaned. Not only was his confession a total bust, but he also ended up giving away his most important secret.

And he still didn’t know for sure that she was Ladybug.

“You’re Chat Noir.” Marinette plopped down into the puddle beside him. “Adrien is Chat Noir.”

“Yeah, yeah, we got that,” Plagg said. “Are you gonna put the poor kid out of his misery or not?”

“Huh?” She blinked.

“He’s in love with you. Hopelessly, stupidly in love with you. He loves you almost as much as I love cheese.”

That was a pretty big point in favor of Marinette being Ladybug. He guessed he should count himself lucky, but that also meant he’d just slipped and fallen in dirty dishwater in front of not only Marinette, but Ladybug.

He closed his eyes. “Plagg, please let me die in peace.”

“... Adrien?”

He felt her breath fan over his face, and his eyes back snapped open.

Her gray-blue eyes were hovering right above him. Well, he had said he wanted to be closer to her.

“Y-yeah?”

“Please don’t die,” she said softly. Her hand came up to cradle the side of his face—or maybe she was just trying to make sure he hadn’t bruised himself. “I l-love you too.”

Every one of his brain cells fizzled out. She. Loved him?

“I think I am dead.” He smiled, reaching his arms around her. “I’m pretty sure I just went to heaven.”

Her face flushed. “You’re always going to be that cheesy, aren’t you?”

“Are you really surprised, Princess?”

“No.” She leaned in, brushing her nose against his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Ew, gross.” Plagg gagged. “This isn’t the kind of cheese I signed up for.”

“You’re the one who said she should put me out of my misery.”

“Yeah, well I think you both need to put this food out of its misery. The soup’s burning.”

Marinette sprung up, eyes wide. “Oh no! We still have to get everything ready! And the crêpe filling isn’t done and I haven’t finished the baozi—”

“It’s okay! We can still get it all done … somehow.” Adrien winced as he stood up. Now they were both covered in a mix of dishwater and crêpe filling. “Just keep Plagg away from it all. He’s the reason I ruined the pears. Oh, and he’s the reason I was wearing that beret, too.”

She went back to work as if nothing had changed between them. It was honestly kind of amazing how quickly she had the noodles and soup under control, like she hadn’t just been freaking out moments before.

“He’s got as awful taste in fashion as he does in food?” she asked.

“No—well, probably, but that’s not important. The beret was to hide him so he could help me cook. Like in Ratatouille.”

She blinked. “That works?”

“It would work better if my kwami knew how to cook, but yeah.”

“Hmm …” She tapped her lips—lips he would hopefully be able to kiss once all this was taken care of, he thought with a giddy grin—before snapping her fingers. “That’s it! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!”

“What’s it? Wait—Marinette, where are you going?”

“You’ll see!” She winked before disappearing behind her bedroom door.

He gave the soup a careful stir while waiting for her to come back.

“You’re welcome.” Plagg crossed his arms and smirked irritatingly.

“For what?” Adrien scowled. “All you did was give away my identity and embarrass me in front of the love of my life!”

“Love of your life?” Marinette appeared behind him.

He nearly knocked over the pot of soup. It was what he deserved for startling her so much back in lycée, he guessed.

Plagg snickered. “Bold words coming from the guy who called her a good friend earlier.”

“She is a good friend! And the love of my life! She’s Ladybug, Plagg!”

He pointed to the giant red-and-black egg in Marinette’s arms. The Miracle Box. She was Ladybug!

“You didn’t know that when you said it five seconds ago,” Plagg pointed out.

“Yeah, well—I guessed it,” he huffed.

It had been the only answer that made sense. And it was true. Hopefully he could blame the tears pricking his eyes on the onion in the soup. If not, though, crying over his amazing partner (who loved him!) was probably still the least embarrassing thing he’d done today.

Tikki poked her head out of a cookie jar. By now he’d been startled so many times that her presence hardly registered.

“Don’t worry, Adrien. Marinette has said way more embarrassing stuff than that.”

“Which we won’t repeat in front of him,” Marinette said dangerously.

His head was still spinning from all the revelations. Of course, he wasn’t too surprised—who else but Marinette was amazing enough to be Ladybug?—but it was still a lot to take in at once.

“While I definitely want to hear about that later, what’s the Miracle Box out for? Is there a kwami of cooking? Or do you think Sass could give us a Second Chance on all this mess?” he asked, trying to bring his focus back to the problem at hand.

“What you said about Plagg gave me an idea.” She punched in a code on the spots, and the egg cracked open to reveal the miraculouses. “He might not know how to cook, but I’m sure some of the other kwamis do. And if not, I’m sure they can follow directions.”

“Great idea, Marinette!” Tikki clapped. “Wayzz and Pollen are pretty good at cooking, from what I remember. Orikko is too, but you shouldn’t cook chicken in front of him.”

“Makes sense.” Adrien nodded before turning to Marinette. “You think they’ll be enough to make up for how badly I messed up?”

“Of course they will. We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir; there’s no mess we can’t fix.” She smiled as she equipped the bracelet and hair comb, then passed the Miracle Box to him. “Have Tikki help you pick out a few more kwamis. Together we’ll get this done in time. I know it.”

Relief washed over him, and he smiled back.

“As you wish, My Lady.”

XXX

“You’re sure I won’t be intruding?” Adrien asked as they pulled up to her parents’ bakery.

“Of course not. There’s no way my family would leave out my boyfriend.” She shifted her tupperware to her other arm and reached up to adjust his (newly cleaned) beret. “Even if he has terrible fashion sense.”

“It’s a Marinette original! There’s nothing more fashionable than that!”

“An original from when I was fourteen!” she pouted.

“It’s too late, Bugaboo. I’m never taking it off.” He kissed her forehead.

“I’ll make you a new one. Anything would be better than mixing lacy hearts and stripes.”

“I guess that’s fair. But I’ll still treasure this one forever.”

She rolled her eyes affectionately as she pushed open the bakery door.

Not long after, Adrien, Marinette, and her family were settled around the dining room table, a feast of French and Chinese cuisine in front of them. The two sides of her family mingled, mixing as seamlessly as the dishes. Rolland was deep in conversation with Wang about traditional cooking techniques in France versus China. Gina (who’d insisted he just call ‘Grandma’) was regaling two of Marinette’s cousins with tales from her travels. More of her younger cousins ran around the table, barefoot soles slapping against the hardwood floor, their hands occasionally reaching up to snag a dumpling or croissant. It was a tight fit, but Adrien didn’t mind. He was thrilled to be included at all.

While they ate dinner, he kept catching her looking at the hat. But every time she did, he’d make eye contact with her, and then she’d blush and smile bright enough that it was worth every glare.

“So, what are you up to these days, son?” Tom asked over his bowl of wonton soup.

Son. Already, Marinette’s parents felt more like family than his own. He would love to be part of her family for as long as she would let him.

Hopefully forever.

“Oh, not much.” He put an arm around Marinette. “Just learning how to cook from your amazing daughter.”

He winked, and she blushed again. Red was her color in and out of the suit, it seemed.

“He needs all the help he can get. You should’ve seen what he almost put in the crêpes today.”

Tom laughed. “Well, it looks like it all turned out perfect. Thanks for your help, both of you.”

Under the table, Adrien and Marinette shared a fistbump. This wasn’t the first adventure they tackled together, and it wouldn’t be the last.

#miraculous ladybug #fic tag #adrinette #adrienette #reveal #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tali writes #ml

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naanima · 5 years ago

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Joy of Life (庆余年) - Cdrama Rec!!!!

Joy of Life (庆余年) is a Chinese television series based on the novel Qing Yunian (庆余年) by Mao Ni (who has written several popular series). The story is a transmigration series! Yes, a transmigration series. The tv series in the first few mins set up the premise, what if a modern person is sent to ancient China (feudal area) with modern beliefs and morals.

Our main character (Zhang Ruoyun whom I have watched a tonne of series I would normally not watch for) is transmigrated to an alternative universe ancient China in the body of an infant called Fan Xian who is being protected from being assassinated. Yes, people are trying to kill a new born because of his mother. Fan Xian is saved by Wuzhu, the blind folded martial artist who is all protecting Fan Xian, killing anyone who tries to kill Fan Xian, and picking fights. I love Wuzhu, he is one of my favs in the book and show full of awesome characters.

Wuzhu takes Fan Xian to the kid’s grandmother. Fan Xian is the son of the Imperial Secretariat Fan Jian. Fan Xian grows up in an estate with his grandmother, and protected by Wuzhu. At the age of eighteen, Fan Xian is recalled to the capital by his father due to Fan Xian’s impending political marriage with a princess. The princess happens to the illegitimate daughter of the Grand Princess who is in control of the inner treasury or underwear. If Fan Xian was to successfully marry the princess he would become the person in control of the inner treasury, which makes him an extremely popular among all sort of court officials and the Crown Princess and the Second Prince. And hence start Fan Xian’s troubles; assassination attempts, political pitfalls, the princes courting of his power, the Grand Princess’ plans, the emperor’s interests and so much more.

Here ends the basic summary. Now why you should watch this.

The PACING and script of this show is amazing. We can all admit that 95% of Chinese television shows suffer from pacing issues. JoL does not have that problem at all, the script is tight and fast, and actually follows logic. The script is written by Wang Juan, he who write amazing scripts. So, it is fucking great that he has kept up the excellent record of great scripts.

The cast is amazing – I love Zhang Ruoyun, I have watched so much crap for Zhang Ruoyun and have never regretted. Even when the production he is in is mediocre I can still accept it. But beyond zry, the young cast are all excellent, many of them with years of experience in theatre or smaller roles. The older cast are full award winning actors, and let me tell you, there is nothing like watching three old dudes talk and just being drawn in by the ACTING. The sheer amazing master class acting.

The characters – YOU WILL LOVE OR AT THE VERY LEAST BE ENTERTAINED BY EVERY CHARACTER. Fan Xian, our main lead who likes to troll others, is super smart, and just want to live a life of peace and comfort. But what is better than Fan Xian is when he is surrounded by a host of people who often smacks him down for when he is being too much of a smug little shit. Fan Xian’s family are so supportive and hilarious in their own way; there is his stone faced father who loves him dearly, his younger sister who is eager and trust him 100%, his younger brother who only wants to make money not to use it but just because he likes money, his stepmother who isn’t the smartest but once she accepted him would stand in front of him and an incoming army. THEY ARE JUST SUCH A GOOD FAMILY.

There is the Emperor, who is both amazing and fucking terrifying. Here you have an emperor who is in complete control of his empire, and one is forever questioning his motives. The Grand Princess who is playing games, the Crown Prince who always seem a tad behind, and the Second Prince who eats, reads books, and likes to clear out sections of town to eat and wait in peace. They are all amazing and fucking terrifying in their own way.

There is a whole host characters; men, women, old and young, and they are so interesting and even the bad guys you feel sorry for because in many cases they are making decisions based on their environment. And I haven’t even touched on Fan Xian’s helpers, his fiancé (SO ADORABLE).

And yeah, Xiao Zhan is in it, but it is minor role, and I’m not going to say anymore in fear of spoilers.

Other things of awesome:

The action sequences are decent, better than a lot of other tripe that was released this year.

Makeup is not over the top, most of the women are white as snow, but at least still looks human. Yes, Chinese people do have tan.

I like the costumes, they are actually functional. I know a lot has been made about the ugle hair and headpieces in this show, but honestly not any worse than a lot of the other historical stuff.

It is HILARIOUS. I cannot say how funny some of this shit is. I laughed so hard.

Fan Xian’s mother. You don’t see her, but almost person of a certain age and in power has opinions of memories of her and because of her they want to protect Fan Xian.

The POLITICS!!! AHHHH! I LOVE IT! And it really highlights the many various powers in play in an Imperial court. There isn’t just two sides, there is about a hundred sides with different and shifting alliances.

The WOMEN and relationships. Look, I hate about 99% of het romances in c-drama because people become fucking idiots when they fall in love. It is trying and so annoying. Nobody here is dumb about love, yes, Fan Xian loves Wan’er (his fiancé) but he won’t sacrifice ignore wrongs done or doing the right thing just because he is in love. Every woman in this show is different and unique and I fucking love it.

How every person have their own story, just because you are the designated bad guy doesn’t mean there is no good in you. There are several characters in this show that has done horrible horrible things and yet I still felt something when they died. It is good storytelling.

LOOK, PEOPLE. I hardly rec things, I scream about stuff I like, but I rarely make an actual rec post on the things I watch or read because a lot of time they are things I personally find fun but I wouldn’t waste the time writing a rec post. But GODS, WATCH THIS SHOW. It is honestly my top 2019 show, and I for one cannot wait for season 2.

The English subs are on youtube.

Join me so we can scream together.

#Joy of Life 庆余年 #Joy of Life #Joy #庆余年 #cdrama #c-drama #recommended #rec

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tienganhmoingay · 3 years ago

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Bài tập về các thì trong tiếng anh

Ngữ pháp là một chủ điểm rất quan trọng với bất kì ai học tiếng anh phải nắm bắt được. Đúng vậy, nếu bạn có nền tảng các thì trong tiếng Anh tốt thì bạn sẽ có thể sử dụng các kĩ năng đọc và viết rất tuyệt. Dưới đây, Báo Song Ngữ sẽ đưa ra bài tập các thì trong tiếng Anh để các bạn tham khảo và luyện tập có thể giúp cải thiện tốt ngữ pháp cho các bạn.

Trong tiếng Anh có 13 thì (12 thì cơ bản và 1 thì mở rộng). Thì tiếng anh được chia theo thời gian quá khứ, hiện tại và tương lai. Các bạn đọc muốn hiểu biết chi tiết thêm và áp dụng công thức thành thạo thì hãy cùng theo dõi nhé.

Tổng hợp công thức 13 thì tiếng anh.

Exercise 1. Bài tập thì hiện tại đơn - Điền dạng đúng của từ trong ngoặc

1. She always ______delicious meals. (make)

2. Tome______eggs. (not eat)

3. They______(do) the homework on Sunday.

4. He ______ a new T-shirt today. (buy)

5. My mom ______ shopping every week. (go)

6. ______Duong and Hoa ______ to work by bus every day? (go)

7. _____ your parents ______with your decision? (agree)

8. My sister ______ her hair every day (wash)

9. Police ______ robbers (catch)

Xem thêm: Bài tập về thì tiếng anh hay

Exercise 2. Bài tập thì hiện tại tiếp diễn - Viết câu dưới đây ở thì HTTD.

1. My/ dad/ water/ some plants/ the/ garden.

________________________

2. My/ mom/ clean/ floor/.

________________________

3. Mary/ have/ lunch/ her/ friends/ a/ restaurant.

________________________

4. They/ ask/ a/ man/ about/ the/ way/ the/ railway/ station.

________________________

5. My/ student/ draw/ a/ beautiful/ picture

________________________

Exercise 3. Bài tập thì hiện tại hoàn thành - Chia động từ trong ngoặc.

1. They ______a new lamp. (buy)

2. We ______our holiday yet. (not/ plan)

3. He just ______ out for 2 hours (go)

4. I ______ my plan (not/finish)

5. ______ you ______ this lesson yet? ( learn)

EXERCISE 4: Use the correct form of verbs in brackets.

1. In all the world, there (be) __________ only 14 mountains that (reach) __________above 8,000 meters.

2. He sometimes (come) __________ to see his parents.

3. When I (come) __________, she (leave) __________for Dalat ten minutes ago.

4. My grandfather never (fly) __________ in an airplane, and he has no intention of ever doing so.

5. We just (decide) __________ that we (undertake) ____________ the job.

6. He told me that he (take) __________ a trip to California the following week.

7. I knew that this road (be) __________ too narrow.

8. Right now I (attend) __________ class. Yesterday at this time I (attend) __________class.

9. Tomorrow I'm going to leave for home. When I (arrive) __________at the airport, Mary (wait) __________ for me.

10. Margaret was born in 1950. By last year, she (live) __________on this earth for 55 years .

11. The traffic was very heavy. By the time I (get) __________to Mary's party, everyone already (arrive) __________

12. I will graduate in June. I (see) __________ you in July. By the time I (see) __________ you , I (graduate) __________.

13. I (visit) __________ my uncle's home regularly when I (be) __________ a child.

14. That book (be) __________ on the table for weeks. You (not read) __________ it yet ?

15. David (wash) __________ his hands. He just (repair) __________ the TV set.

16. You (be) __________here before? Yes, I (spend) __________ my holidays here last year.

17. We never (meet) __________ him. We don't know what he (look) __________ like.

18. The car (be) __________ ready for him by the time he (come) __________tomorrow.

19. On arriving at home I (find) __________that she just (leave) __________a few minutes before.

20. When we (arrive) __________ in London tonight, it probably (rain) __________.

21. It (rain) __________ hard. We can't do anything until it (stop) __________

22. Last night we (watch) __________TV when the power (fail) __________.

23. That evening we (stay) __________up to talk about the town where he (live) __________for some years.

24. I (sit) __________down for a rest while the shoes (repair) __________.

25. Half way to the office Paul (turn) __________round and (go) __________back home because he (forget) __________to turn the gas off.

26. London (change) __________a lot since we first (come) __________ to live here.

27. While we (talk) __________on the phone the children (start) __________fighting and (break) __________a window

28. He used to talk to us for hours about all the interesting things he (do) __________ in his life.

29. You know she (stand) __________looking at that picture for the last twenty minutes.

30. I (spend) __________ a lot of time travelling since I (get) __________this new job.

31. When we (be) __________ at school we all (study) __________Latin.

32. When I (meet) __________ him , he (work) __________as a waiter for a year.

33. After he (finish) __________ breakfast he (sit) __________down to write some letters.

34. She (have) __________a hard life, but she's always smiling.

35. I think Jim (be) __________ out of town.

EXERCISE 5: Choose the best answer among A, B, C, or D.

1. When I last saw him, he _____ in London.

A. has lived

B. is living

C. was living

D. has been living

2. We _______ Dorothy since last Saturday.

A. don’t see

B. haven’t seen

C. didn’t see

D. hadn’t seen

3. The train ______ half an hour ago.

A. has been leaving

B. left

C. has left

D. had left

4. Jack ______ the door.

A. has just painted

B. paint

C. will have painted

D. painting

5. My sister ________ for you since yesterday.

A. is looking

B. was looking

C. has been looking

D. looked

6. I ______ Texas State University now.

A. am attending

B. attend

C. was attending

D. attended

7. He has been selling motorbikes ________.

A. ten years ago

B. since ten years

C. for ten years ago

D. for ten years

8. Christopher Columbus _______ American more than 500 years ago.

A. discovered

B. has discovered

C. had discovered

D. had been discovering

9. He fell down when he ______ towards the church.

A. run

B. runs

C. was running

D. had run

10. We _______ there when our father died.

A. still lived

B. lived still

C. was still lived

D. was still living

11. They ______ table tennis when their father comes back home.

A. will play

B. will be playing

C. play

D. would play

12. By Christmas, I _______ for Mr. Smith for six years.

A. will have been working

B. will work

C. have been working

D. will be working

13. I _______ in the room right now

A. am being

B. was being

C. have been being

D. am

14. I ______ to New York three times this year.

A. have been

B. was

C. were

D. had been

15. I’ll come and see you before I _______ for the States.

A. leave

B. will leave

C. have left

D. shall leave

16. The little girl asked what _______ to her friend.

A. has happened

B. happened

C. had happened

D. would have been happened

17. John ______ a book when I saw him.

A. is reading

B. read

C. was reading

D. reading

18. He said he _______ return later.

A. will

B. would

C. can

D. would be

19. Jack ________ the door.

A. has just opened

B. open

C. have opened

D. opening

20. I have been waiting for you ______ .

A. since early morning

B. since 9 a.m

C. for two hours

D. All are correct

21. Almost everyone _______ for home by the time we arrived.

A. leave

B. left

C. leaves

D. had left

22. By the age of 25, he ______ two famous novels.

A. wrote

B. writes

C. has written

D. had written

23. When her husband was in the army, Mary ______ to him twice a week

A. was reading

B. wrote

C. was written

D. had written

24. I couldn’t cut the grass because the lawn mower ______ a few days previously.

A. broke down

B. has been broken

C. had broken down

D. breaks down

25. I have never played badminton before. This is the first time I _____ to play.

A. try

B. tried

C. have tried

D. am trying

26. Since _______, I have heard nothing from him.

A. he had left

B. he left

C. he has left

D. he was left

27. After I _______ lunch, I looked for my bag.

A. had

B. had had

C. have has

D. have had

28. By the end of next year, George _______ English for two years.

A. will have learned

B. will learn

C. has learned

D. would learn

29. The man got out of the car, ________ round to the back and opened the book.

A. walking

B. walked

C. walks

D. walk

30. Henry _______ into the restaurant when the writer was having dinner.

A. was going

B. went

C. has gone

D. did go

31. He will take the dog out for a walk as soon as he ______ dinner.

A. finish

B. finishes

C. will finish

D. finishing

32. I will be glad if he _______ with us.

A. had gone

B. did go

C. went

D. goes

33 Ask her to come and see me when she _______ her work.

A. finish

B. has finished

C. finished

D. finishing

34. Turn off the gas. Don’t you see that the kettle ________ ?

A. boil

B. boils

C. is boiling

D. boiled

35. Tom and Mary ______ for Vietnam tomorrow.

A. leave

B. are leaving

C. leaving

D. are left

36. He always ________ for a walk in the evening.

A. go

B. is going

C. goes

D. going

37. Her brother ______ in Canada at present.

A. working

B. works

C. is working

D. work

38. I ______ to the same barber since last year.

A. am going

B. have been going

C. go

D. had gone

39. Her father ______ when she was a small girl.

A. dies

B. died

C. has died

D. had died

40. Last week, my professor promised that he ________ today.

A. would come

B. will come

C. comes

D. coming

EXERCISE 6: Choose the underlined part in each sentence (A, B,C, or D ) that needs correcting

1. After Mrs. Wang had returned (A) to her house (B) from work (C), she was cooking (D) dinner.

2. Jimmy threw (A) the ball high (B) in the air, and Betty catching (C) it when (D) it came down.

3. Linda has worn (A) her new yellow (B) dress only once (C) since she buys (D) it.

4. Last week Mark told (A) me that he go (B)t very bored with his present job and is looking (C) for a new on (D)e.

5. Having (A) fed the dog, he was sat (B) down to (C) his own (D) meal.

6. When I turned on my computer, I was shocked (A) to find (B) some junk mail, and (C) I delete (D) it all.

7. They are going to have to (A) leave soon (B) and so do (C) we (D).

8. The boss laughed when the secretary has told (A) him that she really (B) needed (C) a pay (D) rise.

9. The telephone rang several times (A) and then (B) stop (C) before I could (D) answer it.

10. Debbie, whose father (A) is an excellent tennis player(B), has been (C) playing tennis since (D) ten years.

11. I have seen (A) lots(B) of interesting (C) places when I went (D) on holiday last summer.

12. When my cat heard (A) a noise in the bushes, she stopped moving (B) and listen (C) intently (D).

13. I think (A) it’s time you change (B) your way of (C) living (D).

14. Roger felt the outside (A) of his pocket to make (B) sure his (C) wallet is still (D) there.

15. When I’m shopping (A) in the supermarket, I ran into (B) an old friend who I hadn’t met (C) for (D) five years.

16. The police (A) arrested the man while (B) he is having (C) dinner in (D) a restaurant.

17. Peter and Wendy first (A) met in 2006 (B), and they are (C) married for three years now (D).

18. Some (A) people are believing (B) there is life on (C) other (D) planets.

19. Recently, the island of Hawaii (A) had been (B) the subject of intensive research (C) on the occurrence (D) of earthquakes.

20. Every morning, the sun shines (A) in my bedroom window (B) and waking (C) me up (D).

21. The man died as (A) a result of falling (B) asleep (C) while he drives (D).

22. I haven’t finished (A) the report yet (B),but by the time you return (C) I will certainly complete (D) it.

23. Caroline has worn (A) her new yellow (B) dress only once (C) since she buys (D) it.

24. We’ll be cycled (A) to Hoa’s village (B) at (C) this time next (D) Sunday.

25. What will (A) you do (B) when (C) your friends won’t come (D) ?

26. Someone was knocking (A) at the door (B) when I was doing (C) the washing up (D).

27. My friend didn’t drink (A) any (B) beer since we came (C) to live here (D).

28. We have written (A)to each other (B) when (C) we were (D) in primary school.

29. After (A) breakfast, I‘m gone (B) to walk to (C) school with (D) my friends.

30. Did (A) he go to (B) the pop concert next weekend (C) for a change (D)?

EXERCISE 7: Choose the correct sentence among A, B, C or D which has the same meaning as the given one.

1. Eight years ago we started writing to each other.

A. We have rarely written to each other for eight years.

B. Eight years is a long time for us to write to each other.

C. We wrote to each other eight years ago.

D. We have been writing to each other for eight years.

2. The boy was so lazy that he couldn't stay up late to learn his lessons.

A. The boy was lazy enough not to stay up late to learn his lessons.

B. The boy was too lazy to stay up late to learn his lessons.

C. The boy was lazy enough but he stayed up late to learn his lessons.

D. The boy was lazy enough to stay up late to learn his lessons.

3. My father is tired of seeing any violent films.

A. My father hasn't seen a violent film.

B. My father has enjoyed all the violent films he has ever seen.

C. My father is worried about missing the next violent film.

D. My father never wants to see another violent film.

4. As soon as he waved his hand, she turned away.

A. He saw her turn away and he waved his hand.

B. No sooner had he waved his hand than she turned away.

C. She turned away because he waved his hand too early.

D. Although she turned away, he waved his hand.

5. John wishes he had remembered to send Mary a Christmas card.

A. John regrets not to send Mary a Christmas card.

B. John regrets forgetting not to send Mary a Christmas card.

C. John regrets not remembering sending Mary a Christmas card.

D. John regrets forgetting to send Mary a Christmas card.

6. My father hasn't smoked cigarettes for a month.

A. It's a month since my father last smoked cigarettes.

B. It's a month ago that my father smoked cigarettes.

C. It's a month that my father hasn't smoked cigarettes.

D. It's a cigarette that my father smoked a month ago.

7. Having finished their work, the workers expected to be paid.

A. The workers expected to be paid because they had finished their work.

B. Having their work finishing, the workers expected to be paid.

C. Having expected to be paid, the workers finished their work.

D. Having been finished their work, the workers expected to be paid.

8. Mr. Brown bought this car five years ago.

A. Mr. Brown started to buy this car for five years.

B. It has been five years when Mr. Brown has bought this car.

C. Mr. Brown has had this car for five years .

D. It is five years ago since Mr. Brown has bought this car.

9. John used to write home once a week when he was abroad.

A. John doesn't write home once a week any longer.

B. John enjoyed being written home every week when he was abroad.

C. John never forgot to write a weekly letter home when he was abroad.

D. When he was abroad he remembered to write home every week.

10. I haven't enjoyed myself so much for years.

A. It's years since I enjoyed myself so much.

B. It's years since I have enjoyed myself so much.

C. It was years since I had enjoyed myself so much.

D. It has been years since I have enjoyed myself so much.

EXERCISE 8: Give the correct form of the word in brackets.

1. He went to his house, lied down on the bed, and (sleep) ……………… right away.

2. I (buy) ……………… the ticket yesterday. I am (go) ……………… Dalat tomorrow.

3. Tim (attend) ……………… the meeting at school at the moment.

4. He (have not) ……………… English for 2 years.

5. Our class (start) ……………… at 9am.

6. I always (brush) ……………… my teeth before I go to bed.

7. I (study) ……………… English since I was 21.

8. He was listening to music when his boss (come) ……………… yesterday.

9. I (have do) ……………… all the homework all afternoon.

10. I (be) ……………… a student.

11. She (wait) ……………… you for all day.

12. He wasn’t working when his boss (call) ……………… him yesterday.

13. She (be) ……………… at her boyfriend’s house yesterday morning.

14. I (talk) ……………… to my father at the moment.

15. We (be) ……………… in Nhatrang on their summer holiday last year.

16. The sun (rise) ……………… in the east.

17. He (meet) ……………… his old friend near his house yesterday.

18. The World Cup (take place) ……………… every four years.

19. They (play) ……………… in the garden at 4 pm yesterday.

20. She was watching a picture while her mother (cook) ……………… soup.

21. They (play) ……………… now.

22. Anne was riding her bike to school when Peter (see) ……………… her yesterday.

Exercise 9. Khoanh vào đáp án đúng.

1. He fell down when he …………towards the church.

A. run B. runs C. was running D. had run

2. The train …………. half an hour ago.

A. has been leaving B. left C. has left D. had left

3. He has been selling motorcycles……………..

A. ten years ago B. since ten years C. for ten years ago D. for ten years.

4. I ……..Texas State University now.

A. am attending B. attend C. was attending D. attended.

5. The little girl asked what ……… to her friend.

A. has happened B. Happened C. had happened D. would have been happened.

6. John ……… a book when I saw him.

A. is reading B. read C. was reading D. Reading

7. I………….to New York three times this year.

A. have been B. was C. were D. had been

8. I will come and see you before I………….for America.

A. leave B. will leave C. have left D. shall leave

9. I have never played badminton before. This is the first time I ……… to play.

A. try B. tried C. have tried D. am trying

10. He will take the dog out for a walk as soon as he ……….. dinner.

A. finish B. finishes C. will finish D. finishing

11. When I met him , he ……. as a waiter for a year.

A.had been working B. worked C. have worked D. work.

12. I………….the dishwasher on when heard the shot.

A. am turning B. were turning C. was turning D. turned

13. There was a time when watching TV really……………family entertainment.

A. were B. was C. had been D. Is

14. The Olympic Games…………every four years.

A. take place B. takes place C. took place D. is taking place.

15. …………….you go to the dentist?

A. how often are B. how often do C. how often does D. how are

16. By the end of next year, Kelvin ………English for two years.

A. will have learned B. will learn C. has learned D. would learn.

17. By the age of 25, he …….. two famous novels.

A. wrote B. writes C. has written D. had written

18. I think the weather……………nice later.

A. will be B. be C. had D. has been

ĐÁP ÁN

Exercise 1. Bài tập thì hiện tại đơn - Điền dạng đúng của từ trong ngoặc

1 - Makes; 2 - Does not eat; 3 - Don't; 4 - Buys; 5 - Goes

6 - Do – go; 7 - Do – agree; 8 - Washes; 9 - Catch;

Exercise 2. Bài tập thì hiện tại tiếp diễn - Viết câu dưới đây ở thì HTTD.

1 - My dad is watering some plants in the garden.

2 - My mom is cleaning the floor.

3 - Mary is having lunch with her friends in a restaurant.

4 - They are asking a man about the way to the railway station.

5 - My student is drawing a (very) beautiful picture.

Exercise 3.Bài tập thì hiện tại hoàn thành - Chia động từ trong ngoặc.

1 - Have bought

2 - Haven't planned

3 - Has gone

4 - Haven't finished

5 - Have - learned

Exercise 4:

1. are - reach; 2. comes; 3. came - had left; 4. has never flown;

5. have just decided -would undertake; 6. would take; 7. was ;

8. am attending - was attending; 9. arrive -will be waitin;g 10. had lived;

11. got- had already arrived; 12. will see - see - will have graduated;

13. visited -was; 14. has been - haven’t you read; 15. is washing - has just repaired;

16. Have you been - spent; 17. have never met - looks; 18. will have been- comes;

19. found – had just lef;t 20. arrive – will probably be raining; 21. is raining - stops;

22. were watching - failed ; 23. stayed – had lived; 24. sat – were being repaired;

25. turned – went – had forgotten; 26. has changed - came;

27. were talking – started - broke; 28. had done 29. has been standing;

30. have spent - got; 31. were - studied; 32. met – had been working;

33. had finished - sat; 34. has; 35. has been;

Exercise 5:

1. C 2. B 3. B 4. A 5. C 6. A 7. D 8. A 9. C 10. A

11. B 12. A 13. D 14. A 15. A 16. C 17. C 18. B 19. A 20. D

21. D 22. D 23. B 24. C 25. C 26. B 27. B 28. A 29. B 30. B

31. B 32. D 33. B 34. C 35. B 36. C 37. C 38. B 39. B 40. A

Exercise 6:

1. D. was cooking -> cooked

2. C. catching -> caught

3. D. buys -> bought

4. C. is looking -> was looking

5. B. was sat -> sat

6. D. delete -> deleted

7. C. so do -> so are

8. A. has told -> told

9. C. stop -> stopped

10. D. since -> for

11. A. have seen -> saw

12. C. listen -> listened

13. B. change -> changed

14. D. is still -> was still

15. A. I’m shopping -> was shopping

16. C. is having -> was having

17. C. are -> have been

18. B. are believing -> believe

19. B. had been -> has been

20. C. waking -> wakes

21. D. drives -> was driving

22. D. will certainly complete -> will have certainly completed

23. D. buys -> bought

24. A. We’ll be cycled -> We’ll be cycling

25. D. won’t come -> don’t come

26. A. was knocking -> knocked

27. A. didn’t drink -> hasn’t drunk

28. C. when -> since

29. B. gone -> going

30. A. Did -> Will

Exercise 7:

1. D; 2. B; 3. D; 4. B; 5. D; 6. A; 7. A; 8. C; 9. A; 10. A;

Exercise 8.

1 - slept; 2 - bought - am going to; 3 - is attending; 4 - has not practised; 5 - starts;

6 - brush; 7 - have studied; 8 - came; 9 - have been doing; 10 - am;

11 - has been waiting; 12 - called; 13 - was; 14 - am talking; 15 - were;

16 - rises; 17 - met; 18 - take place; 19 - was playing; 20 - was cooking;

21 - are playing; 22 - saw;

Exercise 9. Khoanh vào đáp án đúng.

1.C 2.B 3.B 4.A 5.C 6.C 7.A 8.A 9.C 10.B

11.A 12.C 13.B 14.B 15.B 16.A 17.D 18.A

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inyournightmares97 · 5 years ago

Text

Her Dowry (Part 1)

The handsome Mr. Park Jinyoung is proud, haughty and says exactly what he thinks. He doesn’t need anyone meddling in his life... much less a spoiled and rich young heiress who is shamelessly in love with her own fortune.

Can two such selfish people ever find comfort in each other?

Warnings: Regency!AU, pretty much a Jane Austen fanfic with GOT7 lol. Angst, Fluff, some attempts at me being posh and using big words that might seem cringey. Please don’t ask when I’ll update because I’m trying my best!

Word Count: 3.1k

Part 2

Dowry: A dowry is an ancient custom that requires the transfer of parental property to a daughter at her marriage, rather than at her father’s death. The dowry is given by the bride’s family to the groom or his family. In Victorian England, dowries were viewed by the upper class as an early payment of the daughter’s inheritance.

A man had to prove his worth in keeping his wife at the level of life she was accustomed to. A woman, often looking to improve her social standing, used a dowry as a lure.

Source: https://www.ancient-origins.net/history-ancient-traditions/putting-price-marriage-long-standing-custom-dowries-007222

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“I do not like her, brother," you muttered. "Something about her manner is extremely unpleasant to me.”

The bride was dressed in expensive white muslin, her dark hair cascading down her back and her brilliant smile lighting up the entire wedding ceremony. You sat silently in the pews, seething.

What was the need for her to smile quite so brightly? What sort of a young woman could not even conceal her emotions and contain her happiness? You found her conduct particularly distasteful. A bride shouldn’t be smiling like a fool on her wedding day. She should look elegant and composed.

“I think she looks absolutely beautiful,” your brother whispered to you.

You turned your head sharply to frown at him. Colonel Jackson Wang had dressed in his uniform for the occasion. He stood out brightly among the other wedding guests, with his red coat and dashing good looks. There was really no need for Jackson to have arrived to the church in his uniform but he had chosen to do so regardless. Your brother never shied away from attention. He also particularly enjoyed that of the female kind; women loved officers.

“You think all women are beautiful,” you replied dismissively. You had no interest in your brother’s frivolous remarks and smug smiles on this gloomy morning.

“It is the truth. All women are beautiful and Jaebum’s bride is no exception. If you will permit me to say so, dear sister, I believe that it is not Jaebum’s wife that you are displeased with. Rather, it seems to be the fact that our brother is getting married at all,” Jackson replied knowingly.

You pressed your lips together in indignance. How could Jackson accuse you of such a thing? You had no reason to oppose Jaebum’s marriage. Your eldest brother could marry whomever he pleased, but you only wished that he hadn’t chosen Miss Park of all women. She was nothing more than a pretty face and a sweet smile that had seduced your brother into matrimony. Underneath his stiff demeanor and stern face, your brother was truthfully a weak man. Jaebum was drawn to small and delicate things so Miss Park had captured his soft heart in a matter of days.

“She looks far too happy,” you insisted. “Why does she need to be smiling so much?”

Jackson folded his arms across his chest. “She is marrying the man she loves.”

“She is marrying a rich man from a noble family,” you replied stubbornly. “Jaebum is the heir to Father’s properties and everyone knows that he will come into an enormous fortune. Do you remember how vocal she was about her adoration of our estate when she joined us for dinner last week? I have no doubt she is waiting for Father to die so that she may call herself mistress of our home and parade about as though it belongs to her.”

“Ah, so there it is,” Jackson said with a small laugh. He had known that there was something on your mind and now you had finally exposed your true feelings. Your cheeks heated up in anger as your brother smirked at you. “You are worried that you will no longer be the only woman in our family, and that Miss Park will have more right over our home once she becomes Mrs. Lim than you will. Am I wrong, dear sister?”

You tensed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jackson chuckled and reached across to squeeze your hand in a gesture of comfort. “You need not worry, you will always be our dear, adorable little sister-“

You pushed his hand away and frowned. “Shall we focus on the ceremony?”

It was a small and beautiful ceremony but it only made you more bitter as it progressed. The vows were read out and rings exchanged; rings which you had gone into town and had custom-made for your brother since you knew that Jaebum could never be trusted to choose the appropriate ones if left to himself. As Jaebum exchanged rings with the woman he had chosen to spend the remainder of his life with, your gaze drifted around the church.

Jaebum had insisted that the wedding remain small and that the announcement in the papers be made only after the ceremony was completed. He had never liked too much show or grandeur about things.

You wondered what Miss Park liked.

The Lims’ estate and the money, most likely. A private wedding was a small sacrifice for an ensuing life of luxury.

You had made the necessary inquiries into the Park family the moment Jaebum sent a letter from London stating that he was engaged to marry a woman whom he had been courting for a few months. He explained that Miss Park was a fine, beautiful young lady of simple tastes and an excessively sweet demeanor. Jaebum’s letter to you had, cleverly, not delved into detail about this mysterious Miss Park.

But you had laid your hands on a similar letter Jaebum had sent to Colonel Jackson. In his less careful exchange with his brother, Jaebum had revealed that he was smitten for Miss Park and that she was the purest soul he had ever met in his life. He believed that she was a woman with a heart of gold who treated everyone around her with the deepest compassion and had possibly never so much as told a lie.

It was pathetic how easily men were seduced. You had expected better from Jaebum.

The Parks were a family of nobility and although they could never rival your family’s wealth, they had certainly amassed a good fortune. You heard that they owned a house in London (which was where Miss Park had been staying with her mother when your brother had fallen for her seductive trap) in addition to an average-sized estate in the countryside. Miss Park’s father had passed away four years ago and so his entire fortune fell upon her younger brother, Mr. Park Jinyoung.

That insufferable Mr. Park Jinyoung.

He had arrived at Portsmouth with his sister and mother two weeks ago to prepare for the wedding. Just as his sister was beautiful, Mr. Park Jinyoung was exceedingly handsome. He had a charming smile and a calm, observant gaze that could make any woman feel weak. Mr. Park was eloquent in his speech and graceful in his manner.

The Park siblings had become the talk of the town within days of their arrival. Miss Park for having secured the affections of the stiff Mr. Lim Jaebum, and Mr. Park for simply being so handsome and agreeable and having such a lovely smile.

You had to confess that your own heart had fluttered at the first sight of Park Jinyoung. You considered yourself in possession of an excellent taste for everything aesthetic and you knew that this man’s features could not have been more flawless if they had been drawn by a skilled artist. You had smiled prettily at Mr. Park and exchanged a few playful flirtations until you were suddenly and shockingly exposed to his true character.

Mr. Park Jinyoung was a rude, conceited man who had no appreciation for art of any form.

During the Parks’ fourth evening in town Mr. and Miss Park had joined your family for evening tea. It was too cruel to separate the young lovers when their wedding was mere days away, and your Father had decided that it was prudent to invite the young Parks to the estate for dinner rather than risk having Jaebum be seen loitering about their lodgings in town in hopes of being admitted to see his beloved. There was a call for entertainment and you had graciously stepped up to play the piano while the company enjoyed their tea.

You were pleased to be able to show off your performance. Surely Miss Park could not possess the musical talent that you had acquired and honed from an early age. This was the one arena in which you were certain that she could not rival you. You played one of the most difficult pieces you had learned and were treated to a fond round of applause from your family. Jackson had always been enthusiastic about your music and even Jaebum seemed impressed. Your Father clapped with a proud smile on his face.

“Oh, that was quite delightful!” The young Miss Park was quick to praise your performance once you returned to your seat. She had been going to great lengths to befriend you, but you were determined to be cold to her. “I have heard so much about Miss Lim’s musical talents but to hear her perform in person is something else entirely. How much effort and practice you must have put in to reach that level of skill! Was it not lovely, Jinyoung?”

You smiled to yourself, awaiting the praise that was surely to come from Mr. Park. He had been watching you intently during your performance and you were well used to general admiration regarding your music. The young gentlemen of the locality were among your most ardent admirers. You were certain that you would have Mr. Park Jinyoung smitten with you before his sister could tie the knot.

You batted your eyelashes at him and spoke in a sweet tone. “Yes, Mr. Park, I am very eager to hear what you thought of my performance.”

Mr. Park sipped his tea coolly. His dark eyes flickered to you and he gave you a small, tight-lipped smile as he set his tea cup down on the table in front of him.

“You certainly possess great potential, Miss Lim,” he replied calmly.

You could not have been more shocked if Mr. Park Jinyoung had chosen to throw his unfinished tea in your face. Potential? Whatever could he mean by that? You had been learning how to play the piano since you were a small child of seven. That was fourteen years of uninterrupted learning, of your Father hiring the best music teachers and you dedicating all of your free time to the practice and perfection of the art. Father had bought you a priceless instrument for your twelfth birthday which was your most prized possession. You were undoubtedly the most skilled woman in all of Portsmouth and this horrible, rude, tasteless man had the audacity to tell you that you had potential? As though you were a small child?

You had never been so affronted.

“I have dedicated myself to learning how to play the instrument for over fourteen years now, Mr. Park,” you informed him coldly. “I am certain that any potential I might have had has already been realized. Perhaps you had best not pass critical judgement if you are not in a position to judge.”

The corner of Mr. Park’s beautiful lips turned up in a smug smile.

“Well, a woman so confident in her own skills can hardly be seeking my praise,” Mr. Park Jinyoung replied. You suddenly detested his handsome, charming face as he smiled at you. “After all, you are evidently the superior musician and I cannot claim to know more about the instrument or about music than you do. Such words would serve no purpose but to flatter you, since I am inferior to you in knowledge and taste. If you do not believe my criticism, then of what value is my praise?”

Your cheeks flushed red in anger as you glared at him. “I believe even a dog knows good music when he hears it-“

Colonel Jackson interrupted your outburst with a laugh and quickly began a tangential conversation about how he and Jaebum planned to go riding the next morning. Your brother was aware of your tendency to throw little tantrums when you did not get what you wanted. He offered an invitation to Mr. Park to distract the company from the unpleasantness which you would unleash upon it.

Mr. Park gracefully accepted Jackson’s invitation to join the men on a ride but you saw the little smirk that he directed towards you. You fumed in silence for the rest of the evening until the Parks took their leave and then you approached Jaebum firmly.

“I don’t like him,” you told your eldest brother, making no attempt to withhold your pettiness. “He is rude and has absolutely no manners. Are you going to allow a man like that to become our family? I cannot let it happen.”

Jaebum leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow at you. He did not seem surprised. “Well, then, it is fortunate for both of us that I intend to marry his sister and not him.”

You folded your arms across your chest childishly. “I don’t like Miss Park either. She smiles too much.”

Jackson laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Indeed. Surely a woman with any decency must go about frowning at everyone the way you were frowning at Mr. Park Jinyoung all evening, am I right, dear sister?” Jackson teased, causing you to push him away from you and pout while turning to your Father.

“Papa! Was Mr. Park not extremely rude to me earlier?” you demanded.

Your Father sighed and gave you a small, fond smile. “He certainly was, my dear. How ignorant of him to not possess the acumen to appreciate your music. I thought that the piece was very well-played and I have certainly never heard anyone play it better than you. But let us not dwell too long on the man. He will leave Portsmouth soon after the wedding and we may scarcely have to see him again.”

You smiled happily and went to your Father, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek that made him smile at you. “Papa, you understand me so much better than my brothers. I will play another piece for you before I go to bed, shall I?”

Your Father chuckled and nodded. “Yes, let us hear another.”

Your temper tantrum was assuaged by your Father’s praise of your subsequent performance, but you still remembered the words spoken by Mr. Park. Not only had he failed to apologize, he continued to speak to you in a calm and agreeable manner as though he had never said anything to offend. Jackson and Jaebum both returned from their ride with him and decided that they liked him very much. It seemed that Mr. Park was a skilled rider and an excellent conversationalist.

You were very much alone in your hatred and distaste for Mr. Park Jinyoung.

The wedding ceremony ended happily with warm tears, clapping and cheers. Despite your hatred for Mr. Park and distaste for his sister, you still felt emotional at the sight of Jaebum looking so happy. You had never seen your brother looking as contented as when he was beside Miss Park.

The newly wedded couple left the church hand-in-hand, smiling and waving as they boarded the carriage that would take them directly to the countryside for their honeymoon.

“Well, there goes our brother, off to celebrate bliss in matrimony,” Jackson commented with a smile as the carriage drove off. You bit your lip to conceal the lump in your throat. You were happy and proud that Jaebum had found a wife but you suddenly realized that you would miss your brother greatly. You had always been the most important woman in Jaebum’s life. Even though he teased you and admonished you constantly, you looked up to him a great deal. The feeling was bittersweet.

You were watching the carriage roll away into the distance so intensely that you did not notice the arrival of Mr. Park Jinyoung. He was dressed very smartly, as he always was, and Jackson waved a hand to obtain his attention.

“Ah! Mr. Park!” Colonel Jackson called out cheerfully. “Was that not a beautiful ceremony?”

Mr. Park Jinyoung nodded and smiled. “It was beautiful indeed, and very heartfelt. My mother could not control her tears during the ceremony and so she had to return to our lodgings directly. I hope you will be kind enough to excuse her absence at the wedding breakfast.”

“Certainly, it is no matter at all. I hope Mrs. Park is in good health?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Yes, of course. Her emotions are her only ailment.”

Colonel Jackson laughed and clapped Jinyoung heartily on the back. “Well, what good luck that the ceremony went well and all is done. I don’t suppose we shall be hearing from the newly wedded couple until they return from their honeymoon. And we shall be very sad to see you go, Mr. Park! We have grown to love your company here in Portsmouth; haven’t we, sister?”

You gave Jackson a dirty look. You would not be manipulated into exchanging pleasant greetings with this rude man.

“Perhaps love is too strong a word to be used for a man we have known for little over a week, brother. One can hardly judge a man’s character in so short a period.”

Mr. Park chuckled. “I beg you will not press Miss Lim to offer me praise, Colonel Jackson. I fear that she will only begin to hate me even more,” he commented, eyes twinkling as he turned to look at you. “Perhaps I will find an opportunity to redeem myself in your regard, Miss Lim, for I intend to stay at Portsmouth a little longer. Certain business opportunities have arisen. I was hoping your family would be so kind as to lend us a manservant so that my mother may return to London ahead of me.”

Jackson’s expression brightened while your heart sank. Did Park Jinyoung truly intend to stay? Your silent distress was accompanied by your brother’s loud and cheerful enthusiasm.

“Oh! What excellent news, Mr. Park! We shall certainly send some of our most trustworthy servants to accompany your mother to London. And you cannot stay in those lodgings any longer for you are now a part of our family!” Jackson cried cheerfully. “Once you have safely sent your mother home, you must come and conduct your business in Portsmouth while staying with us on the estate!”

You glared at Jackson. “Jackson! Should we not seek Father’s permission before hastily extending such an invitation-“

Jackson shook his head dismissively. “Father would never expect Mr. Park to stay at the lodgings when we have so many spare rooms on the estate! Now that the wedding is officiated, it would be inappropriate if we failed to make Mr. Park welcome for as long as he intends to stay in Portsmouth,” he insisted, turning to Jinyoung. “I will speak to Father and we will send someone to have your things transferred tomorrow.”

Mr. Park smiled. “Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, Colonel Jackson.”

You clenched your fists and seethed silently.

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#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 scenario #got7 angst #got7 fluff #got7 park jinyoung #park jinyoung #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung scenario #got7 regency #got7 regency romance #jinyoung regency!au #got7 regency!au #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung angst

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hallmark-movie-fanatics · 5 years ago

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Aren Buchholz Tells Us Why He Loves This One Spot on the When Calls the Heart Set

By K.L. CONNIE WANG

The character of Jesse Flynn was first introduced on When Calls the Heart as a potential villain. Jesse was out to get Pastor Frank (Mark Humphrey) to own up to his sordid past and rejoin the gang to pull off another heist. That was until Clara (Eva Bourne) caught his eye that he decided to mend his evil ways.

Now, Jesse has just walked down the aisle with Clara. Actor Aren Buchholz, who plays Jesse on the show, sat down with Parade.com to talk about his character and his co-stars.

What has been your favorite scene between Clara and Jesse?

There have been so many memorable scenes over the years—a lot of the “firsts” come to mind. The first time we met, first date, first kiss, first fight, first (and only, thank goodness) break-up! It’s so hard to choose but I think my favorite would be the proposal. Or striking oil together. Or Jesse finding out that The Nutcracker is a ballet… ahhh! There’s too many!

Tell me something viewers might not know about Eva.

Eva loves anything murder mystery and binges Law and Order like no other. I think it’s safe to say that Olivia Benson would be a dream role for her.

Jesse started off as kind of a bad guy. Was it always the producers intention to make him into a good guy or did the character arc change over time?

You know it’s funny, I was looking back at the breakdown of the audition I had for Jesse a few years ago, and he was only supposed to be a recurring guest star, maybe 3-5 episode arc. So I think the producers’ original intention was for him to be this misguided kid who, with the help of Pastor Frank and the rest of the of the town, turns over a new leaf. But as we all know, the biggest influence in his decision was actually a pretty young girl named Clara and… well the rest is history! Therein began the start of Jesse’s redemption story and the romance between the two lovebirds.

Tell me something about yourself that I probably don’t know about you.

I grew up in rural Saskatchewan, Canada, so I come from a small town (much like Hope Valley). My graduating class was 24 people.

Henry Gowen—is he a good guy or bad?

Good. Gowen is far from perfect and he’s made his fair share of mistakes, but deep down he’s got a big heart and cares deeply for his community. Much like Jesse, he’s full of regret and shame from his checkered past, but they’re both trying to right those wrongs in their own respective ways. I’d say they have the biggest character arcs on the show and even though Gowen is just a touch behind Jesse in his transformation, I think he’ll get there real soon. Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks!

What’s your favorite spot on the Hope Valley set?

Other than crafty? I’ve spent a lot of time in Lee’s office these past few years so we have some good memories in there. Oh and the saloon! All of our big group scenes are usually in there so that’s always fun when the whole gang is working. Also, when you have downtime on a nice warm day there’s nothing better than taking a stroll around the pond.

If you could be any other character on the show who would you be?

Probably Gowen or Bill. Or Hickam—that guy is always coming in with a funny line.

Are you #TeamNathan or #TeamLucas?

It’s so hard to choose. At first I think I was Team Nathan because, well, he’s a Mountie. But Lucas is so fun and has proven himself to be a great guy so I could easily be Team Lucas now. Honestly I can’t pick!

Would you rather eat at Abigail’s Cafe or at the Queen of Hearts?

Well seeing as Clara works at Abigail’s…. I’m gonna have to go with the wife on this one. Happy wife, happy life!

You’re at Crafty (craft services) – what do you reach for?

There’s two versions of Aren at crafty which usually reflects how long we’ve been working: Healthy (8 hours or less) – veggies and dip, fruit tray, rice cakes and peanut butter Unhealthy (10 hour or more) – Donuts, cakes, cookies, all the things. In between 8 and 10 hours is anybody’s game.

Do you have any pet peeves?

Talking during a movie or show… not in my house!

What was the last book you read?

The Road by Cormac McCarthy.

What is your all-time favorite book?

Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger.

What was the last show you binge-watched?

The Outsider on HBO.

Name a movie you can watch over and over again?

Anything with Chris Farley, Jim Carrey or John Candy.

What’s your go-to dish to cook?

I cook a mean steak. Top notch breakfast scramble too.

Who was your first celebrity crush?

Eva Longoria or Rachel Bilson.

New episodes of When Calls the Heart air Sundays at 8 p.m. ET on Hallmark Channel.

LINK at parade.com HERE

#interviews #aren buchholz #link #when calls the heart #season 7 #hallmark original series #hallmark channel

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smashpages · 5 years ago

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Winners announced for the 2019 Eisner Awards

The winners were announced last night for the 2019 Will Eisner Comic Industry Awards.

Tom King and Mitch Gerads, partners on the Mister Miracle series from DC, took home five awards between them. John Allison’s Giant Days and The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang also took home multiple awards.

The Eisner Awards also inducted 10 people into the Hall of Fame last night: the judges chose Jim Aparo, June Tarpé Mills, Dave Stevens and Morrie Turner, while voters chose José Luis García-López, Jenette Kahn, Paul Levitz, Wendy and Richard Pini, and Bill Sienkiewicz to join the class of 2019.

Other awards given out last night included the The Bill Finger Excellence In Comic Book Writing Award, which was presented to Mike Friedrich and the late E. Nelson Bridwell, and the Russ Manning Most Promising Newcomer Award, which went to Lorena Alvarez.

The 2019 recipients of the Bob Clampett Humanitarian Award were Edgardo Miranda-Rodriguez, for his work on Ricanstruction: Reminiscing & Rebuilding Puerto Rico, and comic artist Tula Lotay, AKA Lisa Wood, for creating the UK-based Thought Bubble Festival. And La Revisteria Comics in Argentina won the Will Eisner Spirit of Comics Retailer Award.

You can see all the Eisner winners below, in bold.

Best Short Story

“Get Naked in Barcelona,” by Steven T. Seagle and Emei Olivia Burrell, in Get Naked (Image)

“The Ghastlygun Tinies,” by Matt Cohen and Marc Palm, in MAD magazine #4 (DC)

“Here I Am,” by Shaun Tan, in I Feel Machine (SelfMadeHero)

“Life During Interesting Times,” by Mike Dawson (The Nib), https://thenib.com/greatest-generation-interesting-times

“Supply Chains,” by Peter and Maria Hoey, in Coin-Op #7 (Coin-Op Books)

“The Talk of the Saints,” by Tom King and Jason Fabok, in Swamp Thing Winter Special (DC)

Best Single Issue/One-Shot

Beneath the Dead Oak Tree, by Emily Carroll (ShortBox)

Black Hammer: Cthu-Louise, by Jeff Lemire and Emi Lenox (Dark Horse)

No Better Words, by Carolyn Nowak (Silver Sprocket)

Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man #310, by Chip Zdarsky (Marvel)

The Terrible Elisabeth Dumn Against the Devils In Suits, by Arabson, translated by James Robinson (IHQ Studio/ Image)

Best Continuing Series

Batman, by Tom King et al. (DC)

Black Hammer: Age of Doom, by Jeff Lemire, Dean Ormston, and Rich Tommaso (Dark Horse)

Gasolina, by Sean Mackiewicz and Niko Walter (Skybound/Image)

Giant Days, by John Allison, Max Sarin, and Julaa Madrigal (BOOM! Box)

The Immortal Hulk, by Al Ewing, Joe Bennett, and Ruy José (Marvel)

Runaways, by Rainbow Rowell and Kris Anka (Marvel)

Best Limited Series

Batman: White Knight, by Sean Murphy (DC)

Eternity Girl, by Magdalene Visaggio and Sonny Liew (Vertigo/DC)

Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles, by Mark Russell, Mike Feehan, and Mark Morales (DC)

Mister Miracle, by Tom King and Mitch Gerads (DC)

X-Men: Grand Design: Second Genesis, by Ed Piskor (Marvel)

Best New Series

Bitter Root, by David Walker, Chuck Brown, and Sanford Green (Image)

Crowded, by Christopher Sebela, Ro Stein, and Ted Brandt (Image)

Gideon Falls, by Jeff Lemire and Andrea Sorrentino (Image)

Isola, by Brenden Fletcher and Karl Kerschl (Image)

Man-Eaters, by Chelsea Cain and Kate Niemczyk (Image)

Skyward, by Joe Henderson and Lee Garbett (Image)

Best Publication for Early Readers (up to age 8)

Johnny Boo and the Ice Cream Computer, by James Kochalka (Top Shelf/IDW)

Petals, by Gustavo Borges (KaBOOM!)

Peter & Ernesto: A Tale of Two Sloths, by Graham Annable (First Second)

This Is a Taco! By Andrew Cangelose and Josh Shipley (CubHouse/Lion Forge)

Tiger Vs. Nightmare, by Emily Tetri (First Second)

Best Publication for Kids (ages 9–12)

Aquicorn Cove, by Katie O’Neill (Oni)

Be Prepared, by Vera Brosgol (First Second)

The Cardboard Kingdom, by Chad Sell (Knopf/Random House Children’s Books)

Crush, by Svetlana Chmakova (JY/Yen Press)

The Divided Earth, by Faith Erin Hicks (First Second)

Best Publication for Teens (ages 13–17)

All Summer Long, by Hope Larson (Farrar Straus Giroux)

Gumballs, by Erin Nations (Top Shelf/IDW)

Middlewest, by Skottie Young and Jorge Corona (Image)

Norroway, Book 1: The Black Bull of Norroway, by Cat Seaton and Kit Seaton (Image)

The Prince and the Dressmaker, by Jen Wang (First Second)

Watersnakes, by Tony Sandoval, translated by Lucas Marangon (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Best Humor Publication

Get Naked, by Steven T. Seagle et al. (Image)

Giant Days, by John Allison, Max Sarin, and Julia Madrigal (BOOM! Box)

MAD magazine, edited by Bill Morrison (DC)

A Perfect Failure: Fanta Bukowski 3, by Noah Van Sciver (Fantagraphics)

Woman World, by Aminder Dhaliwal (Drawn & Quarterly)

Best Anthology

Femme Magnifique: 50 Magnificent Women Who Changed the World, edited by Shelly Bond (Black Crown/IDW)

Puerto Rico Strong, edited by Marco Lopez, Desiree Rodriguez, Hazel Newlevant, Derek Ruiz, and Neil Schwartz (Lion Forge)

Twisted Romance, edited by Alex de Campi (Image)

Where We Live: A Benefit for the Survivors in Las Vegas, edited by Will Dennis, curated by J. H. Williams III and Wendy Wright-Williams (Image)

Best Reality-Based Work

All the Answers: A Graphic Memoir, by Michael Kupperman (Gallery 13)

All the Sad Songs, by Summer Pierre (Retrofit/Big Planet)

Is This Guy For Real? The Unbelievable Andy Kaufman, by Box Brown (First Second)

Monk! by Youssef Daoudi (First Second)

One Dirty Tree, by Noah Van Sciver (Uncivilized Books)

Best Graphic Album—New

Bad Girls, by Alex de Campi and Victor Santos (Gallery 13)

Come Again, by Nate Powell (Top Shelf/IDW)

Green Lantern: Earth One Vol. 1, by Corinna Bechko and Gabriel Hardman (DC)

Homunculus, by Joe Sparrow (ShortBox)

My Heroes Have Always Been Junkies, by Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips (Image)

Sabrina, by Nick Drnaso (Drawn & Quarterly)

Best Graphic Album—Reprint

Berlin, by Jason Lutes (Drawn & Quarterly)

Girl Town, by Carolyn Nowak (Top Shelf/IDW)

Upgrade Soul, by Ezra Claytan Daniels (Lion Forge)

The Vision hardcover, by Tom King, Gabriel Hernandez Walta, and Michael Walsh (Marvel)

Young Frances, by Hartley Lin (AdHouse Books)

Best Adaptation from Another Medium

Anne Frank’s Diary: The Graphic Adaptation, adapted by Ari Folman and David Polonsky (Pantheon)

“Frankenstein” by Mary Shelley, in Frankenstein: Junji Ito Story Collection, adapted by Junji Ito, translated by Jocelyne Allen (VIZ Media)

Out in the Open by Jesús Carraso, adapted by Javi Rey, translated by Lawrence Schimel (SelfMadeHero)

Speak: The Graphic Novel, by Laurie Halse Anderson and Emily Carroll (Farrar Straus Giroux)

To Build a Fire: Based on Jack London’s Classic Story, by Chabouté (Gallery 13)

Best U.S. Edition of International Material

About Betty’s Boob, by Vero Cazot and Julie Rocheleau, translated by Edward Gauvin (Archaia/BOOM!)

Brazen: Rebel Ladies Who Rocked the World, by Pénélope Bagieu (First Second)

Herakles Book 1, by Edouard Cour, translated by Jeremy Melloul (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Niourk, by Stefan Wul and Olivier Vatine, translated by Brandon Kander and Diana Schutz (Dark Horse)

A Sea of Love, by Wilfrid Lupano and Grégory Panaccione (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Best U.S. Edition of International Material—Asia

Abara: Complete Deluxe Edition, by Tsutomu Nihei, translated by Sheldon Drzka (VIZ Media)

Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction, by Inio Asano, translated by John Werry (VIZ Media)

Laid-Back Camp, by Afro, translated by Amber Tamosaitis (Yen Press)

My Beijing: Four Stories of Everyday Wonder, by Nie Jun, translated by Edward Gauvin (Graphic Universe/Lerner)

Tokyo Tarareba Girls, by Akiko Higashimura (Kodansha)

Best Archival Collection/Project—Strips

Pogo, vol. 5: Out of This World At Home, by Walt Kelly, edited by Mark Evanier and Eric Reynolds (Fantagraphics)

Sky Masters of the Space Force: The Complete Sunday Strips in Color (1959–1960), by Jack Kirby, Wally Wood et al., edited by Ferran Delgado (Amigo Comics)

Star Wars: Classic Newspaper Strips, vol. 3, by Archie Goodwin and Al Williamson, edited by Dean Mullaney (Library of American Comics/IDW)

The Temple of Silence: Forgotten Words and Worlds of Herbert Crowley, by Justin Duerr (Beehive Books

Thimble Theatre and the Pre-Popeye Comics of E. C. Segar, edited by Peter Maresca (Sunday Press)

Best Archival Collection/Project—Comic Books

Action Comics: 80 Years of Superman Deluxe Edition, edited by Paul Levitz (DC)

Bill Sienkiewicz’s Mutants and Moon Knights… And Assassins… Artifact Edition, edited by Scott Dunbier (IDW)

Dirty Plotte: The Complete Julie Doucet (Drawn & Quarterly)

Madman Quarter Century Shindig, by Mike Allred, edited by Chris Ryall (IDW)

Terry Moore’s Strangers in Paradise Gallery Edition, edited by Joseph Melchior and Bob Chapman (Abstract Studio/Graphitti Designs)

Will Eisner’s A Contract with God: Curator’s Collection, edited by John Lind (Kitchen Sink/Dark Horse)

Best Writer

Alex de Campi, Bad Girls (Gallery 13); Twisted Romance (Image)

Tom King, Batman, Mister Miracle, Heroes in Crisis, Swamp Thing Winter Special (DC)

Jeff Lemire, Black Hammer: Age of Doom, Doctor Star & the Kingdom of Lost Tomorrows, Quantum Age (Dark Horse); Descender, Gideon Falls, Royal City (Image)

Mark Russell, Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles, Green Lantern/Huckleberry Hound, Lex Luthor/Porky Pig (DC); Lone Ranger (Dynamite)

Kelly Thompson, Nancy Drew (Dynamite); Hawkeye, Jessica Jones, Mr. & Mrs. X, Rogue & Gambit, Uncanny X-Men, West Coast Avengers (Marvel)

Chip Zdarsky, Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man, Marvel Two-in-One (Marvel)

Best Writer/Artist

Sophie Campbell, Wet Moon (Oni)

Nick Drnaso, Sabrina (Drawn & Quarterly)

David Lapham, Lodger (Black Crown/IDW); Stray Bullets (Image)

Nate Powell, Come Again (Top Shelf/IDW)

Tony Sandoval, Watersnakes (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Jen Wang, The Prince and the Dressmaker (First Second)

Best Penciller/Inker or Penciller/Inker Team

Matías Bergara, Coda (BOOM!)

Mitch Gerads, Mister Miracle (DC)

Karl Kerschl, Isola (Image)

Sonny Liew, Eternity Girl (Vertigo/DC)

Sean Phillips, Kill or Be Killed, My Heroes Have Always Been Junkies (Image)

Yanick Paquette, Wonder Woman Earth One, vol. 2 (DC)

Best Painter/Multimedia Artist (interior art)

Lee Bermejo, Batman: Damned (DC)

Carita Lupatelli, Izuna Book 2 (Humanoids)

Dustin Nguyen, Descender (Image)

Gregory Panaccione, A Sea of Love (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Tony Sandoval, Watersnakes (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Best Cover Artist (for multiple covers)

Jen Bartel, Blackbird (Image); Submerged (Vault)

Nick Derington, Mister Miracle (DC)

Karl Kerschl, Isola (Image)

Joshua Middleton, Batgirl and Aquaman variants (DC)

Julian Tedesco, Hawkeye, Life of Captain Marvel (Marvel)

Best Coloring

Jordie Bellaire, Batgirl, Batman (DC); The Divided Earth (First Second); Days of Hate, Dead Hand, Head Lopper, Redlands (Image); Shuri, Doctor Strange (Marvel)

Tamra Bonvillain, Alien 3 (Dark Horse); Batman, Doom Patrol (DC); Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, Multiple Man (Marvel)

Nathan Fairbairn, Batman, Batgirl, Birds of Prey, Wonder Woman Earth One, vol. 2 (DC); Die!Die!Die! (Image)

Matt Hollingsworth, Batman: White Knight (DC): Seven to Eternity, Wytches (Image)

Matt Wilson, Black Cloud, Paper Girls, The Wicked + The Divine (Image); The Mighty Thor, Runaways (Marvel)

Best Lettering

David Aja, Seeds (Berger Books/Dark Horse)

Jim Campbell, Breathless, Calexit, Gravetrancers, Snap Flash Hustle, Survival Fetish, The Wilds (Black Mask); Abbott, Alice: Dream to Dream, Black Badge, Clueless, Coda, Fence, Firefly, Giant Days, Grass Kings, Lumberjanes: The Infernal Compass, Low Road West, Sparrowhawk (BOOM); Angelic (Image); Wasted Space (Vault)

Alex de Campi, Bad Girls (Gallery 13); Twisted Romance (Image)

Jared Fletcher, Batman: Damned (DC); The Gravediggers Union, Moonshine, Paper Girls, Southern Bastards (Image)

Todd Klein— Black Hammer: Age of Doom, Neil Gaiman’s A Study in Emerald (Dark Horse); Batman: White Night (DC); Eternity Girl, Books of Magic (Vertigo/DC); The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: The Tempest (Top Shelf/IDW)

Best Comics-Related Periodical/ Journalism

Note: There was a tie in this category

Back Issue, edited by Michael Eury (TwoMorrows)

The Columbus Scribbler, edited by Brian Canini, columbusscribbler.com

Comicosity, edited by Aaron Long and Matt Santori, www.comicosity.com

LAAB Magazine #0: Dark Matter, edited by Ronald Wimberley and Josh O’Neill (Beehive Books)

PanelxPanel magazine, edited by Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou, panelxpanel.com

Best Comics-Related Book

Comic Book Implosion: An Oral History of DC Comics Circa 1978, by Keith Dallas and John Wells (TwoMorrows)

Drawn to Purpose: American Women Illustrators and Cartoonists, by Martha H. Kennedy (University Press of Mississippi)

The League of Regrettable Sidekicks, by Jon Morris (Quirk Books)

Mike Grell: Life Is Drawing Without an Eraser, by Dewey Cassell with Jeff Messer (TwoMorrows)

Yoshitaka Amano: The Illustrated Biography—Beyond the Fantasy, by Florent Gorges, translated by Laure Dupont and Annie Gullion (Dark Horse)

Best Academic/Scholarly Work

Between Pen and Pixel: Comics, Materiality, and the Book of the Future, by Aaron Kashtan (Ohio State University Press)

Breaking the Frames: Populism and Prestige in Comics Studies, by Marc Singer (University of Texas Press)

The Goat-Getters: Jack Johnson, the Fight of the Century, and How a Bunch of Raucous Cartoonists Reinvented Comics, by Eddie Campbell (Library of American Comics/IDW/Ohio State University Press)

Incorrigibles and Innocents, by Lara Saguisag (Rutgers Univeristy Press)

Sweet Little C*nt: The Graphic Work of Julie Doucet, by Anne Elizabeth Moore (Uncivilized Books)

Best Publication Design

A Sea of Love, designed by Wilfrid Lupano, Grégory Panaccione, and Mike Kennedy (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

The Stan Lee Story Collector’s Edition, designed by Josh Baker (Taschen)

The Temple of Silence: Forgotten Worlds of Herbert Crowley, designed by Paul Kepple and Max Vandenberg (Beehive Books)

Terry Moore’s Strangers in Paradise Gallery Edition, designed by Josh Beatman/Brainchild Studios/NYC (Abstract Studio/Graphitti Designs)

Will Eisner’s A Contract with God: Curator’s Collection, designed by John Lind (Kitchen Sink/Dark Horse)

Best Digital Comic

Aztec Empire, by Paul Guinan, Anina Bennett, and David Hahn, www.bigredhair.com/books/Aztec-empire/

The Führer and the Tramp, by Sean McArdle, Jon Judy, and Dexter Wee, http://thefuhrerandthetramp.com/

The Journey, by Pablo Leon (Rewire), https://rewire.news/article/2018/01/08/rewire-exclusive-comic-journey/

The Stone King, by Kel McDonald and Tyler Crook (comiXology Originals) https://cmxl.gy/Stone-King

Umami, by Ken Niimura (Panel Syndicate), http://panelsyndicate.com/comics/umami

Best Webcomic

The Contradictions, by Sophie Yanow, www.thecontradictions.com

Lavender Jack, by Dan Schkade (WEBTOON), https://www.webtoons.com/en/thriller/lavender-jack/list?title_no=1410&page=1

Let’s Play, by Mongie (WEBTOON), https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/letsplay/list?title_no=1218&page=1

Lore Olympus, by Rachel Smythe, (WEBTOON), https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/lore-olympus/list?title_no=1320&page=1

Tiger, Tiger, by Petra Erika Nordlund, (Hiveworks) http://www.tigertigercomic.com/

#comic books #Smash Pages #eisner awards #graphic novels #webcomics

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trishmilburn · 5 years ago

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An Exploration of The Untamed’s Romance & Mystery, Episode 5

Disclaimer: This post and others in this series will be filled with loads of spoilers if you haven’t seen The Untamed, the Chinese drama based on Mo Xiang Tong Xiu’s novel, Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation). My chief interest in doing this series as I re-watch the drama is to chronicle the development of the romance between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, but I also highlight the progression of the mystery that helps bring them together. Keep in mind that I’m writing these posts with the knowledge of what’s going to happen throughout the series and having read the novel. If you’d like to read my examinations of previous episodes, links are provided at the end of this post.

On to Episode 5…

We pick up where we left off at the end of Episode 4, with Wei Ying and Lan Zhan fighting at the back of the Cloud Recesses. Wei Ying tells Lan Zhan he thought he heard something and thinks someone might have snuck in. Lan Zhan grabs him and hauls him off to the library to serve out his punishment for being a bad boy.

Once in the library, we see bad boy Wei Ying copying the oh so many Lan Clan rules, and being very bored while doing it, so he starts to watch good boy Lan Zhan as he reads a book. Of course, “WangXian” is playing on the soundtrack and Wei Ying, even unknown to himself, looks smitten. But honestly, who wouldn’t be? Have you seen Wang Yibo as Lan Zhan? But I digress.

When Wei Ying compliments Lan Zhan’s calligraphy, he gets no response. After saying “Lan Wangji” a couple of times, he says “Lan Zhan” louder and finally draws his future love’s attention. But when he asks why Lan Zhan finds him so annoying, he once again gets no answer. (Here, I’ll answer for Lan Zhan: It’s because he’s drawn to you, and it annoys the fire out of him because you’re so not his type – or so he thinks.) Though Wei Ying apologizes for everything he’s done wrong so far, he points out that it’s not all his fault. After all, Lan Zhan hit him first the night Wei Ying snuck into the Cloud Recesses, bringing alcohol with him. He then gives us some more foreshadowing for when the story turns darker by saying, “I’m that kind of person who wouldn’t raise his hand against others unless they strike first.”

He asks Lan Zhan if he’ll give him the honor of looking at him (yes, this is totally a bro thing to ask), but Lan Zhan just tells him to copy the rules one more time because although Wei Ying has apologized, he feels no remorse. And then he uses the muting spell on Wei Ying yet again.

Next we see the brother-sister duo of Wen Ning and Wen Qing talking, and we get another reference to there being something wrong with Wen Ning. Wen Qing laments that though their family has practiced medicine for generations, she can’t even treat her own brother beyond the medicine he already takes. Then she promises him that she’ll take him away from Heavenly Nightless soon. We get another clue that he’s in danger there, that he’s being used or abused so that Wen Qing will do what Wen Ruohan wants her to.

Now back to the library, where this time it’s Lan Zhan looking up from his book to glance at Wei Ying working. But Wei Ying isn’t actually copying rules; he’s drawing Lan Zhan because, again, that’s totally a bro thing to do. No, Wei Ying is totally crushing on Lan Zhan but is just too dense to realize it yet. All those stares and grins and need to get closer to Lan Zhan, ostensibly to be the friend of this guy who isn’t giving him the time of day, are giving it away to anyone with a single clue. But, to give Wei Ying a bit of an out, who would have expected him to crush at first sight and on a guy when he’s always flirted with girls? When Wei Ying shows Lan Zhan the picture he’s drawn of him, Lan Zhan pronounces him “extremely childish.” What I think is really going on here is that Lan Zhan is wondering why someone would want to draw him. Perhaps he’s even touched somewhere deep inside, but he’s not self-aware enough to acknowledge that. But when he re-opens his book, any goodwill toward Wei Ying that might have been beginning to flicker is doused when he sees not the text he expects but a pornographic drawing. And that brings about the biggest expression change in Lan Zhan so far. His eyes go wide, and he leaps to his feet with an indignant “Wei Ying!” This all amuses Wei Ying mightily, and he tells Lan Zhan that he doesn’t believe he’s never seen anything like that before. Lan Zhan responds by telling him to get out of the library so they can fight, but Wei Ying says that fighting is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses, which just makes Lan Zhan angrier. So angry that he shreds the naughty book, much to Wei Ying’s anguish.

Next we see Wei Ying by the creek telling Nie Huiasang and Jiang Cheng about what happened in the library and how he thinks it calls for a celebration that he was the first one to cause Lan Zhan to lose control that way. Jiang Cheng, predictably, says that it’s nothing to be proud of and, “Our family’s reputation is gone because of you.” Wei Ying tells him that he already apologized to Lan Zhan but that he didn’t accept it and muted him. “What’s wrong with me teasing him?” Nothing, sweetie.

They suddenly become aware that something odd is in the nearby trees, and Wei Ying throws a paper talisman that direction. One of the Wens’ spying birds, which looks like it’s made up of black smoke, takes flight. They wonder why it’s there. Nothing good, that’s for sure.

Lan Zhan is telling Xichen that the energy barrier at the back of the mountain keeps getting disturbed. Xichen asks if he’s been able to determine who has been back there, and after a telling hesitation he admits it’s Wei Ying. Again we see one of those knowing grins from big brother Lan when he sees how much this information bothers little brother Lan. I think Xichen has been shipping WangXian since he first saw those two in the same room together. Lan Zhan asks if he should strengthen the barrier, but Xichen says it was set up by their ancestors and should be fine as long as “she” doesn’t go there. Lan Zhan asks, “She?” But Xichen says they’ll talk about that later. The she is a big reveal later down the road.

A Lan disciple, Su She (hate that guy, you’ll understand why later), shows up and tells the Lan brothers that a villager from Colorful Robes Town (also known as Caiyi) reported evil water spirits causing trouble in a nearby lake.

Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng go to see Yanli at her lodgings but are surprised when Wen Qing is the one who opens the door. You can tell Jiang Cheng is harboring a crush of his own when he grins like a fool upon seeing her. I don’t blame him. She’s beautiful. This crush makes me sad though because I know what lies ahead for them – sacrifice for her and betrayal for him. Despite the fact that I’m eventually going to want to knock Jiang Cheng into next week for being such a damn, self-centered fool, even fully hating him for a while, there’s this other part that harbors the fantasy that if things had just gone a different way he and Wen Qing might have found happiness and made beautiful babies together.

They learn that Wen Qing is there because Yanli hasn’t been feeling well. When Wen Qing sees the close, affectionate bond between Yanli and Wei Ying, it reminds her of her own bond with Wen Ning.

Next we see Wei Ying, Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing catching up with the Lan brothers, asking to go along with them to deal with the water monsters for the experience since they don’t have classes for the next few days. Lan Zhan says no, that it’s against the rules and there’s no need, but Xichen overrules him to Lan Zhan’s well-contained but obvious surprise. (Shippers gotta do what shippers gotta do.) When Wen Ning shows up, wanting to go as well, Wen Qing tries to get him to go back and rest like she told him to, but Wei Ying speaks up for his archery skill and that he should be allowed to come along. Xichen agrees to let him accompany them as well.

While on the road to Caiyi, Lan Zhan asks Xichen why he’s allowing the others to go with them. Xichen replies he could tell Lan Zhan wanted the two young lords of the Jiang Clan to come along. He asks his little brother, “Isn’t that so?” Lan Zhan says nothing in reply. The fact that he doesn’t disagree with his brother shows that Xichen can read what he’s thinking despite what he says.

When we see Lan Zhan and Wei Ying shown to their room at an inn along the way, I wondered why exactly these two are sharing a room. Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to share with their brothers? But maybe Xichen and Jiang Cheng get private rooms since Xichen is his clan leader and Jiang Cheng is next in line to be his. It won’t be the last time – or the most memorable one – that Lan Zhan and Wei Ying share a room at an inn. (This is an even truer statement when referring to the book, which includes a scene that had to be left out of the drama unless they wanted to be shut down by the government censors immediately and perhaps even locked up.) They are shown to their present room by perhaps the laziest innkeeper ever. Despite the fact that he says they’re the first guests he’s had since the lake started eating people, and thus he’s had plenty of time to clean the room, he hasn’t done so and tells them to do it themselves. Rude!

Meanwhile, another fisherman is taken under by the mysterious lake monster. Dude, why are you night fishing on a lake that’s eating people?! I guess Nessie was hungry.

The next day, Wei Ying asks Xichen if he thinks the evil water spirits and the spiritual absorption issues are connected, but he doesn’t really get a satisfactory answer. So after offering Lan Zhan a drink while Xichen walks ahead, he asks Lan Zhan if there’s been any progress with the spiritual absorption issue. Lan Zhan responds simply, “None.” Oh, Lan Zhan, man of few words. Wei Ying says he feels as if Xichen knows something that he’s keeping from them, and he sees something in Lan Zhan’s expression that says he thinks the same. But when he presses Lan Zhan on this point, Lan Zhan simply takes his jug of wine and pours it out on the road, saying, “Drinking alcohol is prohibited when monster hunting.”

They arrive at Blue Spiritual Lake and board boats, typically one or two people per boat. Xichen is in the front, and there are four people in his boat, Su She among them. But I had to laugh at the last boat filled with seven people. I imagined the director saying, “Okay, all you unnamed Lan extras, in this boat.” I wouldn’t have been surprised if they ended up being eaten, the redshirts of Gusu.

So we’re on a foggy lake looking for man-eating monsters, and still Wei Ying looks over at Lan Zhan wearing that “I like him” smile. Then he notices Lan Zhan’s boat is displacing too much water, meaning that one of the monsters is hanging onto the bottom. So that the creature doesn’t catch on and either get away or endanger Lan Zhan, Wei Ying pretends to goof off by using his paddle to fling water at Lan Zhan. As soon as Lan Zhan leaps from his boat toward Wei Ying’s, the creature flips his boat. Wei Ying walks forward to be next to Lan Zhan and says that he wasn’t purposefully splashing water at him and that they can be even now. Lan Zhan moves away and says for Wei Ying to stay farther away from him. Xichen’s little knowing grin comes out again at this interchange. It really is like Wei Ying is flirting and Lan Zhan is determined not to return his feelings. This distance he puts between them is more evidence that Lan Zhan deliberately puts up a barrier around himself, physically and emotionally.

After Wei Ying kills one of the monsters, which I have to say looks like sentient seaweed, with his sword, Lan Zhan looks reluctantly impressed and asks him the name of his sword. When Wei Ying replies that it’s Subian (translated as “Whatever”), he has to explain that it is indeed the sword’s name, not that he’s just saying, “Whatever” in a flippant way.

One of the weedy monsters attacks and injures Jiang Cheng’s leg, and Wen Qing leaps over to his boat to treat him. Cue more crushing by Jiang Cheng. Pretty cultivator girl has healing skills. What’s not to like, right? Well, other than her kinfolk back at Heavenly Nightless.

When the creatures start gathering together, trying to lead all the boats to the middle of the lake, Lan Zhan says all the cultivators should immediately return to shore. Then Wei Ying figures out that the creatures are forming a waterborne abyss that will suck all the boats under, so Lan Zhan says they should abandon the boats and ride their swords. Everyone leaps up into the air to board their swords except Su She, who sends his sword into the abyss, trying to kill the creatures. (Oh, why couldn’t he have gone with that sword?) When he’s unable to recall his sword to escape, Wen Ning moves forward to help him. Seeing this, Wei Ying dives down to save Wen Ning. But when Wen Ning turns around and his eyes are completely white right before he faints, this shocks Wei Ying. Lan Zhan realizes the danger all three men are in and dives down to bring them all up into the air. That Lan Zhan, he’s handy to have around. But Wei Ying, being Wei Ying, has to tease a bit and asks why Lan Zhan is holding him by his collar when he can hold his hand instead. But Lan Zhan replies, “I don’t like touching strangers.” Well, that’s nonsense, Wei Ying basically says because they are well-acquainted. However, Lan Zhan disagrees.

Xichen plays his magical xiao and sends a spell toward the abyss. Right after, we see another of those freaky Wen smoke birds flying away. Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all.

Back at the inn later, Wen Ning is still unconscious and Wei Ying is checking his eyes, which are back to normal. When Wen Qing enters the room, he asks if Wen Ning had any past experiences that make him so easily affected by evil spirits. When she doesn’t answer, he figures he’s hit close to the truth. He gives her a protective amulet for Wen Ning and leaves.

Jiang Cheng is walking through the village when he passes a vendor hawking hair accessories. When she tells him hairbrushes symbolize yearning, he pauses. He’s certainly been yearning. We’re going to see the comb he buys again.

Once Wen Ning is awake, they all go out on boats in the canal that runs through the town. The way they don’t have to paddle and the slow pace at which they are moving reminds me of the It’s a Small World ride at Disney World. Wei Ying is reclining eating loquats like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Xichen, who is in the boat in front of Wei Ying’s along with Lan Zhan, asks his brother what he’s thinking about. Lan Zhan replies the waterborne abyss. Xichen wears another one of those tiny knowing smiles right before Lan Zhan admits that what Wei Ying said about there possibly being a connection between the lake monsters and the spirit absorption isn’t unreasonable. He asks Xichen if there are any clues about a connection, and his brother replies that he isn’t sure but hopes there isn’t. Because if it’s what he thinks then it’s possible they might not be able to stop it.

Meanwhile, Wei Ying gets that flirty mischief in his eyes again and calls out to Lan Zhan, who is standing ramrod straight (as opposed to Wei Ying’s reclining), to have a loquat and tosses it at him. Lan Zhan catches it, says no thanks, and tosses it back, all without looking at Wei Ying. Xichen says that if Lan Zhan wants a loquat, he can buy a basket full. Lan Zhan says he doesn’t want it. Yeah, I feel like we’re talking about more than fruit here.

The parting shot is Wei Ying grabbing a couple of jugs of Emperor’s Smile and tossing down payment as he passes. Considering the fact that Lan Zhan poured out the wine he had earlier in their trip and the Lans are right in front of him, I can imagine the look of mischief, sneaky satisfaction and barely contained laughter on his face as he does this. It’s also both sad and sweet when I think about how much Lan Zhan’s view of Wei Ying’s love for this particular alcohol will change as the story progresses. But for now, we’ll just enjoy the gradual development of their feelings for each other.

Previous posts in this series:

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

#the untamed #wei ying #wei wuxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #wangxian #lan xichen #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wen ning #wen qing

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