#smart translator device

[ozuzo]

I think I just came up with the most annoying quirk for a fantroll. Get this! Guy who exclusively texts on mobile and replaces the Alternian equivalent of QWERTY with 123.

So it's something like:

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet = )943? 80#7? €9)94 #85 @?35

(needless to say, dude's a loser and pretty much no one even bothers with the decoding...)

[meilleurchoix92]

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[mochacoda]

night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite Jeonghan’s chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go, 하니 [Hannie].” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful. 

You can’t even bring yourself to blink, afraid that it might disappear before you can commit it to memory.

Technically, he’s looked like this before—you’ve seen it a handful of times on movie nights when you leaned against his shoulder, sleepily rambling about the bad decisions the main character had made. You’ve always figured that it was just the face he made when he was running on eight percent battery, tired and only half-registering the words coming out of your mouth. 

But now, seeing this version of Jeonghan out of its usual context, your heart stops. 

Your grip slackens.

In an instant, Jeonghan takes advantage of your daze. He snatches the ramen, links his arm through yours, and drags you to the counter. Your feet stumble, but his hold on you is firm, keeping you stable throughout the entire sudden exchange. He sets a bill on the counter, and then you’re being ushered out of the convenience store. 

The freezing cold bites at your cheeks as you stand in a haze of confusion by the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s car, unable to do anything but just watch as he starts the engine and unlocks the door. He stares at you through the window, waiting. 

If you could move a muscle on your face, you’d furrow your brows, wondering what he’s waiting for. But you’re still frozen, and before you can really think about it, Jeonghan gets tired of waiting. 

He gets out of the car and walks over to you, squeezing your shoulders as he shifts you a little to the left. Withdrawing one of his hands from your shoulders, he opens the door, and then maneuvers you inside, using the same hand to cover the top frame of the door. You bump your forehead slightly against it, and he buckles you into the passenger seat—all without a word.

When you blink owlishly at him, he just ruffles your hair and shuts the door carefully, then walks over to the driver’s side. 

Dazed, you literally have nothing to say. 

When Jeonghan gets back into the car, he looks over at you with an unreadable gaze, then reaches his hand over the console to you, this time holding an object out. Your eyes flicker downward, then shoot up at him immediately.

The ramen?

You squint at his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. 

Jeonghan never yields. 

“Take it,” he says simply, airily, as if his giving up was obvious all along.

You hesitate, finger lightly tracing the top of the cup. 

“Come on,” he insists, his eyes still intensely trained on yours. “I… it was always yours.”

Your fingers close over the cup, brushing his hand. He exhales softly, the corners of his lips twitching.

Averting your eyes from him and his strange actions, you drop the ramen in your lap, then settle for staring outside the window at the night sky, finding it unbearable to look at him. Drumming your fingers against the border of the window, you get lost in thought. You’re not sure you can handle it if Jeonghan tries to flirt with you again. Every time he does it, it just hammers in the crushing idea that you’re nothing but a friend to him. That you’re just someone to practice on while he waits for the goddess of his dreams to appear, or something.

And then a strange thought occurs to you. A silly thought, really. When Jeonghan said that the ramen was always yours, he didn’t use the “ih” sound that the word “it” has. No, he used the pronoun “I” first, before correcting himself. A faint, pitiful smile makes its way to your lips as your heart pangs. 

Just what would you give to hear him say “I was always yours” someday?

Oh, maybe everything. 

────୨ৎ────

The gentle hum of the car engine fills the silence from the lack of conversation between the two of you. The moon and the stars are beautiful tonight, and you’re content with staring at them instead of the man driving the car. You prop your head up with your elbow against the window, closing your eyes with every lull of the engine. If Jeonghan ever looked over at you at a red light, you wouldn’t know, preoccupied with pretending to be asleep. 

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you’re still feigning sleep, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows slightly. Surely, 40 minutes haven’t already passed? It seems way too soon. Had you actually dozed off at some point between staring out the window and faking sleep?

You peek one eye open, only to startle at Jeonghan’s gaze trained on you already, immediately opening the other. He seems completely at ease, with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. He stretches his fingers, accentuating the veins on his forearms, and you have to avert your eyes for a moment. 

“잘 잤니? [Sleep well?]” he asks casually. 

You look back at him, and see a strand of his dark hair fall into his eyes. Fingers twitching, you fight the urge to brush it behind his ear. 

You answer him with a nod and flush, wondering if he could tell you were acting the entire time. Hands itching for something to do, you fiddle with your seatbelt.

“야, 나 좀 보고 말해봐, 음? [Hey, can’t you look at me and talk, hmm?]”

You glance at Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, then shy away again. He looks too good right now, too much like a doting boyfriend. You pick at a loose thread from the bottom hem of your shirt.

“자꾸 나를 안 보니까 섭섭하네. [You keep not looking at me, I’m sad.]”

You faintly laugh. In all your years of knowing the man, you’ve yet to see Yoon Jeonghan truly sad. He’s always, always composed. He never says anything without thinking about it first, and he doesn’t have to lift a single finger that he doesn’t want to, because he knows that people will jump just to fall at his feet. It’s funny that Jeonghan now just assumes that with a few pretty words, he’ll get his way. 

But your resentment is growing. It started with the ramen, and built up with how he won at the end of the fight. And it peaked when he gloated under the guise of kindly yielding the cup to you, leaving you stranded in your confusion, leaving you to sort out your racing mind and heart. What’s worse is, he has a history of doing this to you. But you never learn. Because he also has a history of giving the best, warmest, longest hugs. And he tells you all the time that he wants to be with you forever, that even when you’re 80 and wrinkly, he’ll come over every day to sing duets using your karaoke machine. And he has a bad habit of staring into your eyes with so much adoration, that you mistake it for real love. 

He has a history of making you think that his flirting might actually mean something real to him. But he never confesses any feelings, because they don’t exist, and you feel the pain of being used as romantic practice all the same. 

You’ve tried to convince yourself to just accept his affections as platonic love, but it has become increasingly more difficult to ignore it. How can you, when you get a rush of serotonin from seeing how bright his smile is when he whispers an inside joke to you in the middle of your fatally boring math discussion? How can you, when Jeonghan insists on picking you up from work even though it’s a waste of time and gas for him to make the far drive here and back? Your heart has grown to accommodate, and even expect, the constant fluttering it feels in his presence. 

So, to be exact, it’s not that you feel resentment toward him—it’s resentment for your lack of a backbone when it comes to all things Yoon Jeonghan. It happens all the time; you get mad at him, and the consequences last for all of five seconds before your will caves. 

“근대, 안 섭섭하잖아, [You’re not sad, though],” you softly say, eyes now tracing the glow of the crescent moon. 

Jeonghan shifts in his seat, questioning your words. ”What? Why would you say that?”

“아니야, [No,] forget it.” You sigh, eyes falling to your hands again. Picking at a hangnail, you inhale deeply. 

“Why wouldn’t I be sad? I love talking to you.” He removes his hands from the wheel and gear shift, then reaches out for yours.

You flinch, and he freezes. 

“Hey, did I… do something wrong?” His voice shakes, suddenly sounding strained. It’s the complete opposite of how he was just three seconds ago.

You swallow thickly. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. “아니, [No,] it’s my fault.”

He frowns. “What did I do? Please, tell me. I’m sorry, whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise.” He looks at you so earnestly, your heart sinks. 

“그건 불가능해, 정한아. [That’s not possible, Jeonghan.]” The words come out slowly and breathily, as if it’s taken you half of your life force to say them. You stare out the window again, this time at the stars, and add, “We should really get back, now. Why’d you stop here, anyway?”

“I figured you didn’t eat yet,” he says carefully. “I thought you’d want to get Thai. When you’re hangry, you yell at the TV more, and I get complaints from my neighbors.”

You blink, turning your attention down to the stores lining the street rather than the night sky. Jeonghan really had driven to your favorite Thai restaurant. “Oh. I didn’t know I did that, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies softly. “I never liked my neighbors anyway.”

Your eyes close, remembering when one of your classmates, who happened to be his neighbor, confessed to him. He had vented to you about friends needing to understand when not to cross lines. The memory makes you smile weakly again, acknowledging how strong you’ve been for managing not to confess so far. 

Jeonghan continues, “But hey, your neighbors don’t like me, either. Remember when they banged on your door because we were singing too loud?”

You laugh this time, and it’s fleeting but it’s not forced. “언제 쯤 얘기야? [How long ago was that?] That was like two years ago.”

Jeonghan smiles. “You were wearing those teddy bear pajama pants, and I had my Cookie Monster pants on. They were like 70, and told us to stop being childish and grow up.”

“Maybe they had a point,” you say with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to those things,” you add offhandedly. 

“Pay attention to what?”

“You know, just… the stuff I wear, the random shit I do,” you say, picking at your split ends. 

Jeonghan’s wide eyes narrow, and you feel too hot under his intense gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice deep and tinged with something you can’t quite put a finger on. The question feels strangely charged. With what, you don’t know. 

You gnaw on your lip. 

“Answer me. Why shouldn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feeling put on the spot. “I’m just your friend. Shouldn’t you be spending your energy remembering weird stuff about a girlfriend? Like a serious romantic partner, or something?”

Jeonghan groans, running a hand through his hair, before it comes down on the console with a light thud. Your eyes widen at his unexpected physical display of emotion, taking in his clenched fists and heaving chest. 

“하니? [Hannie?]” you say softly, concerned. He doesn’t normally resort to physical exertions when frustrated, probably because he doesn’t get frustrated very often at all.

Your hand reaches out to his right bicep, where you rub the muscle soothingly. 

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he says with a marginally more relieved, deep sigh. 

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he repeats. “Please, don’t call me 정한 [Jeonghan]. Only 하니 [Hannie].”

“Okay?” you say tentatively, unsure where this is going.

“You know I love you, right?” he says suddenly, staring at his hands. 

You blink rapidly. “Of course. I love you, too.” He’s your best friend, but you’re probably not his best friend. 

Jeonghan jolts, looking at you directly in the eyes now. “You know I love you more, right?”

He looks a bit crazed like this, his frantic chocolate brown eyes searching deeply for something in your face. At a loss for words, you gape your mouth at him like a fish out of water. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you manage to say. “I bet I love you a lot more.” 

The statement is accompanied by a rather self-deprecating laugh from you, the kind that digs deep into your heart even as you try your best to seem casual. 

“No, no,” he says, reaching with his left hand to grasp the hand you’ve been patting his right bicep with. This time, you don’t pull away. “You don’t get it. I love you.” 

What?

Your heartbeat begins to beat so loudly that the sound of it pumping overwhelms your thoughts. Your chest tightens, and you’re half-sure that you just hallucinated it.

“뭐라고? [What did you just say?]”

“사랑한다고, [That I love you,]” he chokes out, his voice thick with the one emotion you’ve been dreaming of him reciprocating. 

You gasp.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Oh.

Crestfallen, your heart drops. You pull your hand away from him. 

This must be his new way to get you to relieve your “anger.” He doesn’t actually love you romantically, he just wants you to go back to acting like you normally do. He’ll never feel the same way that you do, in the crushing way that drives you insane every day, in the way that—

“설마, 나를 지금 무시하는 거야? [No way, are you ignoring me right now?]” Jeonghan’s wounded gaze strikes you like lightning. “아니면, 나를 못 믿는거야? [Or, are you not believing me?]”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. 

Is this real? A dream, maybe? The real Jeonghan would never say this. He would never, ever entertain the idea that you could ever be more than—

“내가 사랑한다고 했는데, 왜 아무 말이 없어? [I just said I love you, why won’t you say anything?]” Jeonghan’s voice quakes, and you’re taken aback by his pained, strained eyebrows and glittering eyes. 

Jeonghan’s eyes well with tears. He swallows thickly, “나… 아니야? [Am I… not it for you?]”

Your breath catches. He’s crying. Yoon Jeonghan—Yoon Jeonghan is crying? You’ve never even seen him sad, let alone crying. He’s always been untouchable, effortless in the way he teases and flirts with you, so sure of himself. So nonchalant and casual with his affection, that you’d always thought he never truly meant anything by it. But here he is, raw and vulnerable in front of you, holding his heart out with both hands—eyes rimmed red, voice breaking, mouth trembling. All because of you? 

He really means it, huh? The realization slams into you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe, let alone speak, your chest constricting like you’re having a heart attack. All those lingering touches, all these years. The way he’s always made you the center of his jokes, how he has the softest shifts in his voice when someone mentions your name—it wasn’t all a game to him? It was never just practice for someone else, for someone better? 

It was love?

God, you had been so overwhelmed with self doubt and insecurity that you’d convinced yourself that you had no chance, all while he was giving you clues through his proud affections, every day.

The man in question looks at you like you’ve just shattered his fragile heart, tears fully trailing down to his chin, now.

Feeling like your entire body has been engulfed in flames, you reach a trembling hand out past the gear shift. It trembles despite yourself as your arm extends to caress his cheek, where you carefully rub his tears away. 

Jeonghan shudders when your hand touches him, and he shuts his eyes. More tears fall.

“하니, [Hannie],” you breathe shallowly, still feeling an immense pressure in your chest. “Look at me.” When he doesn’t open his eyes, you swallow roughly. “하니, [Hannie], please?”

Stubbornly, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, and you shakily sigh. You want to tell him—no, you need to tell him that you love him with every fiber of your being, but you need to see his eyes to register whether he understands you. He needs to open those beautiful, brown eyes of his. 

You’ve never told him that you love him in Korean before. Something about it always felt too intimate, while “I love you” in English felt less charged. But you think he needs to hear it now.

Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt at last. Finally freed, you shift your legs until you're sitting on the back of your calves, facing the stunning, devastated man in the driver’s seat.

“하니야, [Hannie],” you say softly, his name a prayer on your lips, your face coming near his. 

You raise your hands up to tenderly brush the tears away from the soft tissue right under his eyes. Trembling, your right hand brushes a strand of hair out of his face, then rests on the back of his neck. 

Heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you hesitantly move closer, and closer, until your lips gently meet his forehead in a kiss so light, you foolishly wonder if he even feels your lips there at all.

“하니야, 사랑해. [Hannie, I love you.]” 

Jeonghan stills immediately. You can feel his hot breath catch against your neck, and you feel a shiver come down your spine. 

“I don’t want anyone else. Just you,” you say choppily, each word spilling out before you can think about what you really just said. 

When you retreat an inch or two back from his forehead, you can see that he has finally opened his eyes. 

“You mean it?” he asks, voice high-pitched in disbelief. 

Not trusting your voice, you nod three times. 

“Say it again,” he begs, his red-rimmed eyes downturned.

“사랑해, 하니야 [I love you, Hannie]. I tried so hard not to. 내 마음을 접고 다��� 사람을 바라보고 싶었어. 싶었는데… [I wanted to let go of my feelings for you and search for someone else. That’s what I wanted, but…]”

Jeonghan inhales sharply. Distressed, his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Your heart aches at the sight of him so exposed, and your thumb moves to rub soothing circles by his collarbone. 

You assure him, “근데 그게 진짜 그냥 안 된거야. 도저히 너를 포기할 수 없었어. [But that really just didn’t work. There was no way I could bring myself to give you up.]”

Your fingers close to his neck, you feel Jeonghan’s pulse racing. Trying to help his heart settle down, you press another light kiss to his forehead, cradling the back of his head with your other hand. His breath shudders against your cheek. 

“마음이 하니한테 만 끌리니까, 뭐… 포기하려고 노력을 했는데 소용이 없었어. [My heart was only drawn to you, Hannie, and well… no matter how hard I tried to give you up, it was no use.]”

Jeonghan blinks up at you with watery eyes. 

“You’re it for me, 하니 [Hannie]. Okay?” Sheepish, you feel a bit embarrassed at having been so honest. 

Now that you’ve bared your heart and soul to him, you take the opportunity to really look at him, since you were distracted with telling your part for the past few minutes—and, oh. 

His pupils are so dilated, his eyes look almost black. His breathing has slowed down compared to earlier, but his fists are still clenched, like he’s holding something back. 

In a low voice, so deep that it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t practically pressed against him, Jeonghan finally responds to your confession. 

“You love me,” he says hesitantly, like he’s asking to confirm. 

The corners up your lip turn up, and he grins. “You love me,” he says again, only louder this time, and then he’s leaning forward into you. 

His hands find you first, clinging to your neck and waist sweetly yet firmly, like he’s afraid to let you go now that he finally has you.

When his lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, moving against yours with an aching tenderness. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs down your spine when his thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw. The touch is so careful, so reverent, like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Then, he pulls back just an inch—just enough for his breath to fan across your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, search yours as if needing confirmation.

"You love me? 진심이지? [You’re serious, right?]" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at the sheer vulnerability in his expression. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his damp skin, and nod. "사랑해, 하니야. [I love you, Hannie.] 진짜, [Really,] I always have."

A sound escapes him—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief—before he leans in again, kissing you with more urgency this time. His hands tangle into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he presses you impossibly closer. The kiss is deeper now, more certain. He parts his lips slightly, and you do the same, the heat between you growing into something undeniable.

Your hands wander—one slipping into his hair, the other trailing down his shoulder. He shudders under your touch, and you feel the tension slowly unraveling from his body, like he’s finally letting himself believe this is real.

When you finally part for air, he lets out a shaky laugh, thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Your heart swells at the confession. "Actually, I think I do," you whisper back before pulling him into another kiss, this time knowing—without a doubt—that neither of you are going anywhere.

────୨ৎ──── 

“하니, [Hannie,]” you say, leaning against him on the sofa in your apartment, drawing random shapes on his chest with your right hand. “We should go on a drive again.”

“Mm, a drive?” he says, distracted by his fascination with observing your left hand, holding it like a precious gem. 

“Yeah, 바람 좀 새자 [let’s get some air]. A night drive.”

His hands stall, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh, a night drive, huh? 역사적인 거네. [How historic.]”

You bury your face in his chest. “Mmh,” you say to his shirt.

“You know, you said 사랑해 [I love you] to me for the first time on a night drive,” he says casually. His hands let go of your left hand, then make their way to your head, patting your hair gently. 

You prop your chin up on his stomach, expecting to see Jeonghan’s pure smile. But instead, he’s smirking at you. 

“You wanted me so bad.” He sighs dramatically. “What else could I do, but accept your love?”

You can’t help but smile. “I think you’re misremembering things a little, 하니 [Hannie].”

“Oh, am I?” he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

If he were anyone else, he’d look stupid feigning ignorance. Fortunately for you, though, he isn’t anyone else—he’s the love of your life, and he makes everything look good. 

“Ugh,” you say, eyes shining. “You look dumb, stop it.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, arms falling from your head to wrap around you in a big hug. 

“Mmfph,” you say in response, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Not denying it, I see,” he says. “Overwhelmed by your love for me, you dove at my poor, innocent self in the car, kissing me all over!”

“Pfft,” you laugh. “No, that was you!”

“No,” Jeonghan pouts.

“I happen to remember a little crybaby confessing first,” you say with an upside down smile, hugging him tighter.

Jeonghan’s eyes look up at the ceiling. “무슨 말인지… [I don’t know what you’re talking about…]”

“야아! [Hey!]” your hand slaps his chest lightly. “나 좀 봐봐, 음? [Look at me, hmm?]”

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says, pouting. 

“사랑해도 안 볼 거야? 섭섭하네… [Even if I love you, you won’t look at me? I’m sad…]” you huff, burying your face into the sofa pillows instead of Jeonghan’s chest. “하니가 안 사랑해주면 난 갈 거야. [If you don’t love me I’m gonna leave.]”

Jeonghan laughs, “가긴 어딜가, 여기 너네 집이잖아. [Leave? What do you mean, leave? This is your house.]” 

Jeonghan hugs you tighter, then suddenly sits up, taking you with him. 

“사랑해, [I love you,]” he says earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes, as if he wants to dive into the depths of your iris. Your name leaves his lips fervently, like a prayer.

“사랑해, 하니야, [I love you, Hannie,]” you say back, and you mean it. 

Because Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. And he’s yours.

Masterlist

Author's Note: here’s a big literary hug <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

[languagesperkele]

Every time I see this:

I'm reminded of just how much the quality of the translations of electrical devices such as phones has gone down since smart phones became the default. It's ridiculous how clear it is that NO ONE checks these things. My first smart phone said "second [another]" instead of "second [unit of time]" in Finnish (toinen vs sekunti), then there's the above image and plenty of other similar things. Verbs get translated as nouns, the wrong word is chosen when Finnish has two or more possible words an English word could be translated as without context... the lack of care is very obvious, and also irritating.

the restart button in the above image says "reborn", btw

[fabuloustrash05]

I had someone try to argue with me when I said that I think Bulma is a powerful character in Dragon Ball. They tried to argue and say she’s not a fighter, has weak chi, etc. so therefore she’s not powerful. And I was just thinking; are they not aware that power comes in many different forms?

Power isn’t just based by one’s strength, it can also be determined by the person’s intelligence/knowledge, mastery in certain skills, influence, wealth, social status/ranking, connections, position in politics, etc. and Bulma has many of these characteristics:

Bulma is INFLUENTIAL

She is apart of a very influential family, the Capsule Corporation family! She’s the heiress of her father’s business, a business that creates a device that can shrink any object into small capsules. A device we see EVERYONE in the series use.

Not to mention her own existence influencing the story. If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have Dragon Ball. She’s the one who built the dragon radar, she’s the one who found Goku and convinced him to join her on her adventure. Without her, Goku wouldn’t have left his house and met characters like Roshi, Krillin and his own wife, Chichi.

And of course, her influence on Vegeta. Bulma played a big part in Vegeta’s character development in DBZ, with him starting as a villainous irredeemable planet destroyer, and turning him into a hero/protector of earth and a loving husband/father. She took one good look at him, thought “I can fix him” AND DID. Her influence and even love for him made him a better person.

I can go on and on about how big of a role Bulma plays in Vegeta’s arc but I assume yall already know the story. 

Bulma is RICH

First off, look how freaking huge her house is! Capsule Corp is a multi milllion (possibly billion) dollar company. 

She’s so rich she has used her own money to fulfill her friends wishes that it got Shenron himself sweating. When promised prize money for everyone if they win the Tournament of Power, it was Bulma that provided the cash to anyone who wants it.

For her birthday party she took everyone her own cruise ship and hosted a Bingo game where the prizes consisted of: a brand new car, a jet, a giant diamond and a literal castle.

AND THOSE WERE JUST 2ND AND 3RD PLACE PRIZES!!!

Bulma has CONNECTIONS

She has frequent lunches with Whis who’s a literal Angel, made Beerus the God of Destruction her FREE babysitter and she’s close friends with Jaco the Galactic Patrolmen thanks to her sister, Tights.

And not to mention the that she’s married to the Vegeta the Saiyan Prince, giving her a royal status, and is also childhood friends with Goku, another Saiyan. And her two children are also Half Saiyans!

Bulma is SMART

I’m just going to go over a list of things she’s invented/done throughout the series:

- The Dragon Radar and the Super Dragon Radar

- A device that can make herself shrink and grow at her own will

- She fixed Radtiz’s scouter, and even rewired it to be in a non alien language so she can properly read it

- Helped her dad rebuild the Namekien space ship that got her, Krillin and Gohan to Namek

- An translator for Ginyu when he was trapped in a Namekian frog body (an animal that she did not know the biology of mind you)

- Helped her dad fix Android 16’s damages

- Saiyan armor, she was able to find a way to perfectly duplicate the material that Saiyans/the Frieza force use. Reminder that all armor Vegeta wears from Android saga and onward was made by her.

- A freaking Time Machine!! (Yes I know that was her future self who built it but it still says so much as to what Bulma is capable of creating)

In conclusion, Bulma may not be a fighter like the others, but she has so many other qualities that make her powerful. She’s strong willed character, a helpful ally to Goku and friends, and an important member of the team thanks to her influence, connections, wealth and intelligence.

Bulma is POWERFUL because of who she is and what she does!

[ficsiwontwrite]

That one 1 chapter wip fic with shen yuan transmigrating as wen yuan lives rent free in my head but HEAR ME OuT

Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua co-wrote mdzs in svsss dimension, they where attacked by a plot device, they ended up as children in yilling post sunshot

I’ll make it better for myself and say sqh was the first hit so he’s toddler aged and sy is like 9 yo

They feel responsible for the plot so they’re gonna mess things up, it would be easier if the husbands showed up for them to get back at being adults with a true love hug or something but they’ll make do

(it’s not like it’ll change things for them to save the blorbo r they condemned, it’s not the same dimension yk)

They end up in the burial mounds with the wen and wwx, sqh tries to fix their money problems … poor guy is having a hard time communicating bc of the lisp, he is younger them a-yuan and he hates it

Sy and sqh still do the classic clown to clown communication characteristic to people who are soulmates, so sy always translates his babbling and wwx is 60% sure sy is the child genius who just wants to make his yapping brother look useful

The adults are under the impression they are helping street children running away from a abusive home (they were still hurt from the plot device fight when they first met) Shen yuan was very clear they are cultivators and adults who are under a curse… neither wen Qing nor Wei Ying could find anything tho so clearly this and the talking about husbands taking too long are clearly children stories made up by too smart traumatized children

Cumplane talking about all the resources they could get for wwx for him to work with, clearly one of the steps for heabilitating his image enough is to make other want to buy his stuff… Shen yuan is them educating wwx about the properties of beast parts and magical wood and all kind of stuff, wwx humors him and also has a lot of fun and even some inspiration with the stuff he’s hearing tbh

They are now convinced the children are from cultivation families tho… they get too many things right not to be.

It’s ok, they’re already hated anyway, being accused of stealing some secret genius from a clan won’t really do that much sem age to their security

Cumplane also discuss what they could do to help wn, if the husbands get there before he awakes a fierce copse theyd have a easier time but there are options if they come after

Wen Qing overhears and is Concerned the children will try to play with guidao, she talks to wwx about it and they start to put up all kind of obstacles for them to stop to get into wy’s research… which are easily circumvent by spy sqh… they are being defeated by a toddler… he even convinced a-yuan to help being a distraction

They should not be put to play with a yuan, but they are

sy ends up criticizing a-yuans stories or giving him ideas about monster too gruesome for a baby… which doesn’t upset him but makes him say random weird stuff when playing (like a reveal that the hero was a secret unicorn-water-rat who feed from friendship) sqh is in a small body and he is tired so his playing is mostly playing dead and them fierce corpse once he is too tired to run around, which happens really quickly (unfortunately this could make baby ayuan associate fierce corpse with playmates… a dangerous assumption to have in the burial mounds)

Okok and the husbands?

The day of the yilling date goes much the same bc no one wants the run away kids to be seen, which is good bc cumplane is trying to set up some array to help contain wn away from the others once he goes into a rage ( they already did it the one other time wwx went in town with a-yuan but they do have to reactivate it)

Things happen, wen Ning gets his consciousness back, cumplane is Anxious bc they don’t have many ways to really change fate being toddlers, without their resources and what if their husbands can’t show up?? What if this curse will just make they live to the end of the mdzs plot and in svsss time haven’t moved??, maybe mobing don’t even know they’re not where they’re supposed to be…

They’ll have to work with plan b them, arranged marriage fix it it is

Which means they already convinced a confused lwj to stay for dinner and are now trying to matchmake terribly when Binghe and Mobei show up in the middle of the settlement, both terrifyingly demonic and just as wangxian is starting to fight them binghe sees sy running to him and goes “Shizun!! 🥺🥺😭”

Everyone dumbfounded by the demon crying all over a magically re-aging shen yuan just for them to look to the back and see adult sqh sitting on his husband lap, who’s just… clutching him and kind of trembling

Turns out the only lie the kids told was by omitting that they were married to demons from another realm…

And them binghe ofc has his emergency qiankun bag with all the stuff he hoards (bc without xin mo he needs to always be prepared duh)

And they do the fix-it by refurbishing the burial mounds with all kinds of defense, gives wwx all kinds of tools and money and resources, give all the warnings about the Jin’s exact machinations and weaknesses and start a whisper campaign to both clean up the wen and wwx’s reputation

Which will end of course with wwx purifying the burial mounds, he doesn’t even need the dead anymore cause now he can not only demonic cultivate fr (got tips from demons themselves) but also they gave him a way to recultivate a core and made lwj responsible for helping with that (ofc its papapa)

[amberarmedheart]

In Defense of John Watson and the Importance of the Besotted Narrator

Every couple of years, the world as a collective likes to ruminate and come up with a new adaptation of the stories of Sherlock Holmes, every single new one promising to be either "The Ultimate Adaptation" or "Holmes for the New Era", there is no in-between. And it is understandable, this amazement and awe we hold for the beloved mysteries, they are classics for a reason.

And despite that, time and again I see creators of tv shows, pastiches, and movies, neglect the most important aspect in every single Sherlock Holmes' story: the immovable presence of John Watson. Some even going as far as turning Watson into a villain, a caricature of himself, or even erasing him completely from the narrative. "After all, the important one is Holmes, isn't he? He is the genius, and Watson is there just his biographer."

That is the capital omission to me when it comes to any of the adaptations, because it ignores the vital part that Watson plays in Holmes' life. Watson is the companion, he is the bridge between the "normal" world and the genius that is Holmes' deductive brain. He is, for a lack of a better descriptor, the translator between what jumps in judgement and reasoning Holmes' brilliant mind comes up with, and the layman's language.

There is a reason why we as readers come up with the idea that Holmes is smart beyond his quirks and his drug addiction, beyond his ignorance of anything and everything that in his opinion doesn't help him solve the cases that distract him from the boredom of normal life... and that reason is that John Watson is the person narrating the whole thing. We are not introduced to Holmes through an omnipresent, anonymous narrator which is the case with other books. We are thrown in the middle of a mystery from the start the same way that Watson is unexpectedly thrown in 221b.

What we think of Holmes, what we feel for him, it is all because Watson wishes us to experience. The stories themselves carry with them one of the best storytelling devices graciously blended into the narrative, which is the fact that Watson is an incredibly good writer, so much that the public gazes into the spotlight where Holmes is and in most cases ignores that the one shining it down is Watson himself.

Creators who like to ignore Watson and his function in the narrative tend to see Holmes as their own self-insert: a super smart man whose genius cannot compare with the mediocre world population and who can barely tolerate their stupidity, basically a gift to men from god and who has to be worshipped for it... When the reality is that every single thing we perceive from Holmes is because of how Watson sees him.

Watson is our unreliable narrator, his descriptions and impressions of Holmes are the ones that are weaved into the story; even goes as far as giving us a glimpse of Holmes' opinion about it through the way the consultant detective sometimes accuses Watson of adding too many embellishments to his narrations. If we see Holmes as an incredible genius, as someone whose intelligence is above the rest of the world, it is because Watson says so. With every passing story, we come across different characters that every once in a while whose first impression of Holmes has been influenced by what they themselves read in Watson's stories... All in all, the in-universe characters falling under the same influence we, as readers, are.

John Watson's love for Holmes is one of the main plot points in the story, we see its evolution the same way as one normally goes through different stages of falling in love. We see Watson's first infatuation, his interest in what makes Holmes what he is, first in a superficial way and later on with every new story. We see them have misunderstandings, which most of the time end up in a deeper appreciation of Holmes as a person.

All culminating in the incredible rendition of The Final Problem, which could easily be seen, without little effort, as Holmes' planning his own death. By what means we are never completely sure, to be honest, since we can only see it through Watson's deep grief. It is true that Arthur Conan Doyle's plans were to end Holmes' adventures with the short story, but even with the author's motivations being the main recourse behind its inception, there is no doubt when reading the story that the focus of the narrative is Holmes' spending his last moments with Watson.

The subsequent creation of The Empty House and further adventures after that, diluted partially the importance of the whole ordeal, but gave us a different insight of Holmes and Watson's relationship. Through that lens, we as readers witness the evolution of it, the toll that Holmes' fake death had in both his biographer and his own author, adding depth through the strain put by the facade.

E. W. Hornung made one of my favorite homages to Holmes and Watson through his stories of The Gentleman Thief, and put a greater emphasis on the strained relationship between the two characters after the fake death. He gave his besotted narrator another source of turmoil: the fact that while Raffles (our stand-in Holmes) was away living life and even having a romantic interest, Bunny (his Watson) ends up falling in disgrace after being sent to jail.

A.J. Raffles' stories lean on the importance of the unreliable, uselessly enamored narrator, to the point that Hornung didn't shy away from having Bunny refer to Raffles as handsome and attractive in many different instances. He understood how there is no Holmes without a Watson to appreciate him, how their dynamic is the fuel behind the success of the whole series.

And ultimately, that it is impossible to have a good story without a good storyteller.

[blackmoonowl]

Give us alien oneshot

𝙰𝚙𝚎𝚡 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛

ꨄ Pairing: Qyvax (Alien Oc) x reader

ꨄ Summary: An intelligent alien crash landed near your home. You've taken him in, to hilarious results. Also the reader eats meat in this fic so if that bothers you, there's your warning.

ꨄ Word Count: 1003

Humans were complete and utter savages.

That's what Qyvax thought, anyway. The tall insectoid alien awkwardly sat on a chair too small for it's nearly three-meter height. His lower pair of arms were on his lap while his upper pair rested on the table. His dark green exoskeleton was covered with a futuristic looking body suit, a pair of big black eyes were seemingly boring into your soul as you ate your meal. His antennae twitched and mandibles clicked in discomfort as he got a good few of your teeth as you tore a small piece off your steak, chewing on it. An utterly barbaric act, for his kind anyway. Humans truly were apex predators, with their sharp teeth and nails.

"...what?" You finally broke the silence, causing Qyvax's head to snap upward slightly, meeting your gaze instead of staring at your teeth. The newly calibrated translating device on his suit crackled to life, translating the rapid clicking of his mandibles.

"Is eating that pleasant to you?" The robot imitation of a human voice spoke. You looked down at your steak before looking up at him. Qyvax sat over a can of rations, presumably produced on his home planet.

"Well... yeah, otherwise I wouldn't be eating it, would i?" You replied as you took another bite of the steak, Qyvax watching with morbid curiosity. As much as your habits and diet horrified him, he simply couldn't bring himself to look away. The way your teeth dug into the meat was almost hypnotic to the alien.

"Fascinating... I never understood the enjoyment in eating animals, it's not an activity my kind partakes in," Qyvax replied, peering at your canines in particular once more. "We usually survive on fruits, vegetables... plant matter."

"Well, we're omnivores," you replied with a small shrug. "A lot of us don't think too much about it, you know? But some people do, and they decide they want to stop eating meat. They feel bad for the animals, or they simply want to change their diet."

Qyvax's mandibles clicked in response as he awkwardly tried to stretch his abnormally long legs under the table, accidentally nudging you in the process. His legs immediately tucked back in in response.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" you asked, taking another bite of your food. Qyvax swallowed, all four of his three fingered hands clenching slightly.

"No.. I am far above being frightened of.. your species," the alien tried to defend himself, taking a deep breath before coughing, not yet used to the difference in oxygen. If only you knew how nervous you were making him. by the look on your face as you grinned, you did know, very well.

"Clearly, very smart." Your sarcasm was poorly concealed as you watched your inhuman companion cough a few more times, lightly hitting his chest. "Don't overdo it, don't need you getting sick again."

"I understand," Qyvax's translator awkwardly sounded as he regained his composure. You finished the last part of your meal. Qyvax hadn't really bothered to finish his rations, closing the can like container back up instead. Silence washed over, as it had done so many times before.

"...You want to watch a movie?" Qyvax perked up at your question, his mandibles clicking, unable to be properly translated by the device strapped over his mouth.

"A movie.... you humans watch that for entertainment, am I correct?" The monotone voice contrasted with what seemed to be an excited demeanor from the entity.

"Yeah... do you guys not have it?" you questioned, getting yup from your seat. Qyvax followed your movement, standing up too quick and knocking the chair over, causing him to flinch.

"No, we don't. We have too much work to do, no time for leisure," the alien replied, pulling the chair back up before trailing after you.

"Wow... and I thought human existence sucked," you muttered under your breath. Qyvax tilted his head to the side slightly, not being able to fully translate your words, the device spouting literal meanings in his ears.

"Human existence... is... sucking?" The words coming from the alien made you chuckle.

"No, no. If something sucks then it's probably figuratively speaking. Like it's bad, unpleasant. You know?"

"I see... an expression."

You let him mull over that as you grabbed the remote, turning your television on. Qyvax came to stand next to you, his lengthy frame hovering over yours. His big black eyes seemingly transfixed on the screen as a generic Viking movie came on.

"....what is that about?" The alien moved closer to the screen, only to wince slightly when one character brutally took out another with an axe.

"It's a Viking movie. Vikings are a part of our history, specifically northern Europe." Your explanation seemed to cause the alien mild discomfort.

"Violence... yet this is entertaining to you?"

"Yeah.... I guess that does look really bad on us, doesn't it?" You awkwardly chuckled as you let yourself plop down on the couch, Qyvax once again awkwardly settling himself next to you. Neither of you spoke for a bit, watching the piece of historical fiction play out.

"Did... do you guys have wars? Wherever you're from." You glanced at the insectoid creature, and he avoided your gaze.

"Yes. Colonies often battled each other for dominance. Resources and territory. We stopped doing that a long time ago. No use fighting when there's endless planets to discover." You slowly nodded at that explanation.

"You guys terraform planets?"

"It's not as difficult as you humans seem to think. Your technology is rudimentary, but we can manage it rather easily."

A questioned burned in your mind. You weren't sure whether to utter it at all. Your mouth opened and shut a few times, before you gathered your thoughts.

"Ever encountered other species?" The question didn't seem to faze Qyvax, yet it was a crucial piece of unknown information for you. Qyvax slowly lowered his head to look at you, his clicks translating into one sentence.

"Would you be frightened if we had?"

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Thomas, Engineer

Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sparks burst upwards into the goggles Thomas was wearing, the plasma cutter in his hand burning at several hundred degrees, focused to an incredibly fine point. Holding it in his work gloves was awkward at best, but years of practice had made him exceptional at his job. Sixer and Mace might’ve been better at the finer detail work, Padrino had incredible dexterity after all, but making custom tools was well within his wheel house too.

The two bot brothers had asked him to make a special kind of nano wrench while they ran a ‘memory sweeper’ program through his old translator, the one that had caught that rogue signal all those cycles ago. The group had been working on it in their off time between maintenance requests, and they were finally just steps away from the answers they were looking for. All they needed now was to strip the memory code out of the device, and for that they needed itty bitty tiny nanoscopic tools; ergo, while the twins worked their programs, Thomas got to work making the things they’d need.

He was almost done too, when the comm-link trilled. A patch job in the security chief’s office, apparently one of the terminals was unresponsive and the door was getting jammed up on something. Personal projects would have to wait.

“Roomba, we got a job. You coming with or hanging out here?”

[Statement: you operate at greater efficiency when this unit is present]

“That’s right buddy, but I’m asking what you wanna do,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Statement: I would like to assist please]

“Thanks Roomba, I appreciate that.” Thomas held his arm out and the little droid climbed up to his usual perch on the man’s shoulder. “Look at you, making decisions for yourself. Good for you bud!”

Thomas adored the little robot, and as Roomba got smarter, that feeling only grew. Every day the small cleaning drone was getting more clever, his AI evolving ever further, thanks to the upgrades from Sixer and Mace. Pretty soon Roomba would be as smart as Thomas was.

Maybe I’ll teach him how to play virtual chess, he thought. Or I’ll build him a little controller and we can split screen a blaster battle game or something!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two made their way through the ship, waving and saying hello to the many people who stopped Thomas to look at the small robot on his shoulder. At this point in their mission, it was common knowledge that one of the humans had made a cleaning drone their ‘pet’, although Thomas was trying to make it clear that wasn’t the case. Roomba was his own person, he just so happened to have very little legs and it was faster to just catch a ride on his human companion. It probably didn’t help that outside himself and the Padrino, nobody else had the hardware to understand what Roomba was saying, so all they ever heard was Beep.

They made it up to the command deck and knocked on the door to the Chief’s office. It opened halfway before getting stuck, hidden gears grinding, and there was the Chief, leaning on his desk with a data pad in his hand. Thomas figured Chief Ducane was kinda cute, what with his scruffy yet trimmed beard and his various tattoos, but macho wasn’t really his thing on guys. That being said, he could see why some on the crew were whispering about him, the man was built. Thomas tried getting his attention through the crack.

“Reporting Chief, you sent a maintenance request?” Thomas said through the gap in the door.

“Yeah, I did,” Chief Ducane looked up. “Oh right, you’re Thomas right? I don’t remember if I’ve introduced myself yet, I’m Danny Ducane. You’re the guy with the domesticated maintenance droid, right?” The Chief got up to the door and pulled it open himself, the hydraulics groaning as it slid open the rest of the way.

“He’s not…” Thomas started, annoyed, but took a beat. Don’t antagonize the guy who can pull apart the doors. “This is Roomba, he has an adaptive learning AI now, like the Padrino on the crew. He’s not a pet.”

Roomba looked up when Thomas said his name and trilled angrily at the idea of being equated to a house cat.

“Beep.”

[Statement: Please inform the other human that I am not domesticated in any way, and would prefer that not get said again]

“He said you’re being rude,” Thomas explained.

“Beep.”

[Sufficiently put]

Chief Ducane looked at the two of them for a moment before raising his hands in defeat.

“Okay, fair enough, that was a dick move on my part. Sorry little guy, didn’t know you were one of the clever bots.”

Thomas nudged his tool bag with his foot, and the Chief took the message.

“Right, my control console is fritzing out,” Ducane said, shuffling awkwardly towards his desk. “The screen blurs every couple minutes, and the door got stuck this morning, don’t know what that’s about either.” The chief stood there, gesturing to his desk with one hand, the other fumbling to put the data pad down where Thomas suspected he thought he wouldn’t be able to see it. It occurred to him that Chief Ducane might not be the most technologically savvy, considering you could read a data pad from either side, and the exact same script was frozen on his console screen. It looked like a checklist of sorts, but Thomas wasn’t here to snoop classified documents. Unless it’d be funny, then maybe.

“Right,” Thomas said, eyeing the chief, “it’s probably just an electrical short, a little leftover from that solar flare the other day. I’ll have to strip some wiring but it’s a quick fix. Though the door might have to be taken out so I can get into the motors.”

“And how long will that take?” Ducane asked.

“Maybe an hour? Maybe more?” Thomas shrugged. “Takes as long as it takes for me to get in there.”

Thomas looked at him a moment, standing there with his hands on his sides. He could hear Roomba’s mechanical innards ticking and whirring as the little bot held onto his perch on Thomas’s shoulder.

“Guess I should let you get to it then,” Chief Ducane said, clapping his hands and heading for the door, but he stopped before he left, like he’d just remembered he’d left the stove on or some such.

“Hey, just a quick question,” he said, turning back to face Thomas. The chief’s hands were fidgeting, hooking and unhooking his thumbs into his pockets. “Are you acquainted with the Sed engineers? Kor and Taren?”

Thomas thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Sure, I’ve seen them around. Why?”

“They ever seem real busy for unknown reasons?”

“Honestly? Like you want my work appropriate answer or my actual opinion?”

“Both.”

“Well my work appropriate answer is sure, they seem good at their jobs, usually off together on requests.”

“And your personal opinions?” Chief Ducane pressed, crossing his arms and shifting to stand in the doorway, as if he was keeping Thomas sequestered until he got answers to his odd line of questions. Thomas didn’t need to ponder the question that long.

“Honestly? Honestly they kinda suck,” He blurted out, a little more venomously than he’d intended. “Like, okay, don’t get me wrong, you ask them questions and they give the right answers, they know how things work and they know the right tool for the jobs, but work wise? Half the time nobody can find them. I’ve had three repair jobs handed over to me in the last two weeks ‘cause they’re off somewhere fooling around.”

“Fooling around?” Ducane intoned, “as in…?”

“Well we just kinda assumed they were an item. And look, we’re sympathetic, but the work load is insane on a ship this size with this many conflicting requirements. Temperature differences for different races, atmospheric controls bottoming out, I got a guy with four arms for a boss and even he thinks it’s ridiculous how often stuff around here breaks.”

“So you all just assumed they were off somewhere… doing that, while you all just put up with it? Has anyone seen them like this?” Chief Ducane pushed.

“Roomba did,” Thomas said, tilting his head the little droid’s direction, “while we were doing repairs in the air ducts a couple cycles ago.”

“Beep.”

[Please do not disclose this information]

“Huh?” Thomas put the little droid in his palm and let him stand for himself. “What’s up buddy?”

“What’s he saying?” The chief asked, shifting focus from Thomas to Roomba and back again.

“Beep.”

[Disclosure of this information will bring my work efficiency into question]

Ohhhhhhh, Thomas thought.

“He’s just saying how weird what he saw was,” Thomas shiftily explained, patting the little droid on the head. “We were working some repairs in the ducts when Roomba saw Taren in another part of the ship through the grating. He was on a comm-link and Kor showed up with a thing Roomba didn’t recognize, but from what he told me it was some hand tool I think.”

“So maybe they were just on another job and not screwing around?” Ducane questioned.

“Nah, couldn’t be, I was supposed to be the only repair guy in that part of the ship at the time. Everyone else is still supposed to be in the core room making repairs after that solar flare.”

Thomas took a deep breath and looked Ducane in the eye.

“Chief, be straight with me, is something going on on my ship?”

“What do you mean your ship?” Ducane scoffed.

“Trust me, this ship has already gotten enough of my blood, sweat, and tears man. I probably love her more than anyone else on this boat, so yeah, she’s my ship.” Thomas was getting a tad red in the face as he said this, which was fair, as it was slightly embarrassing to voice this odd idea of his. “Look man, this ship might be just a job to you, but it’s not just that to me, okay? So if there’s something happening here that could hurt her, I’m not gonna let that happen.”

How odd that a simple maintenance request could have such an impact on his day?

Roomba reach up and tugged on Thomas’s earlobe.

“Beep.”

[New Task Uploaded: protect Noah. Confirm?]

“That’s right Roomba, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Thomas said, weirdly amped up now. Chief Ducane stood there looking at him incredulously.

“Is every kid in the galaxy just ready to ride shotgun off to war these days? I swear, you younger guys need to do something more productive and fun with all that extra energy you have.”

“Shove it… respectfully, Chief.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have anything concrete that something is happening, not that I could tell you if I did.” Ducane shrugged and crossed his arms again, leaning against the wall. The data pad behind them on the desk trilled, a new file had been sent to it, and before the tones had silenced themselves, Thomas felt as if his neurons had just taken a bolt of electricity across his frontal lobe. He turned back to face the Security Chief with a dread look tacked onto his face.

“Hypothetically, Chief, if somebody had possibly intercepted a weird transmission while outside the broadcast shields, how important would that be?”

Chief Ducane stared at him a moment, then clasped his hands together in front of his mouth before sighing uncomfortably hard.

“I’d say that’d be pretty important, kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I thought you were supposed to be smart!” Danny half accused, walking quickly down the hall away from the lift.

“Man, I’m like actually a genius, I have four degrees, but nobody ever accused me of being smart,” Thomas said, shrugging. “I didn’t want to get kicked off the ship if it was nothing, which it probably is!”

“You wouldn’t have gotten kicked off the ship. If I can’t even get rid of Grite, you’re as safe as can be.”

“Oh, okay,” Thomas said sarcastically, “then I totally should’ve spilled it when, while on a space walk, my somewhat illegally jailbroke translator picked up a rogue signal on the long range communications array for the ship I just got a job on. I’ve seen people canned for less, I could’ve been tried for espionage or something.”

“You did what?”

Thomas and Danny turned on theirs heels to see Odis the Galley standing in the doorway they’d just passed, a ‘coffee’ mug in hand. It had a cartoonish drawing of a purple cow on it.

“Oh good, we’re just telling the whole ship now, I guess,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m definitely getting fired.”

“Wait wait wait, Odis is cool,” Thomas vouched. “He’s a real stand up guy.”

“What did you do now humie?” Odis groaned, downing whatever was in his mug before sprinting to join them. His shorter legs had to move twice as fast to keep up with the taller humans.

“So you know that project the twins and I have been working on?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah, you’ve been using your off hours for something that’s not video games, of course I noticed.”

“Fired…,” Danny moaned. “Court marshalled even.”

“Quiet big human, the smart human is talking.”

“Oh no, we’ve established that word doesn’t apply to me.”

“Beep.”

[Thank you for not telling the human I fell down the air ducts]

It was a wonder how the entire ship didn’t know what they were doing by then, seeing as they were not exactly discreet as they headed down to the maintenance decks. When the group of them finally made the locker room, more than one set of eyes was watching them, though it was mostly Chief Ducane they were looking at. It wasn’t exactly normal operating procedures for the Chief of Security to walk into their locker room.

“How is it that you humans are always up to something ridiculous?” Odis asked, shaking his bulbous gray head. “I mean, as a Galley, I’m actually impressed with the level of… what’s a good human word for this nonsense?”

“Shenanigans?” Thomas offered.

“Ridiculous words, ridiculous people…,” Odis laughed. “The cows are cool, but the rest of your world is just a mess of weird, huh?”

The humans didn’t respond, though given any thought, they couldn’t have refuted the Galley anyway.

Sixer and Mace stood at their work table, the terminal screen running thousands of lines of code a second. Thomas would’ve loved to comb through it given the chance, but now wasn’t the time.

“Twins!” he called over, “Got it up and going?”

“Almost, Human Thomas,” Sixer replied.

“Hello, Security Chief Ducane,” Mace greeted.

“Yeah, hi guys,” Danny said. “I hear you all have been working a little side project?”

The two Padrino turned to each other and each gave a quick burst of machine speak before turning back to face them.

“Human Thomas, do you believe it is time to inform the ship’s command structure of our findings?”

“You could say that, yeah,” Thomas nodded.

“Good, because we have finished preparations. We simply need the tool you made up and to see if the sweeper program retrieves any data.”

Thomas patted down his coveralls before fishing the nano-wrench from his inner pocket. He handed the tool to Sixer, who turned back to the table and made the final adjustments.

“Moment of truth, I guess,” he said.

“You realize I’m going to be extremely pissed if you got me down here and all worked up for nothing,” Danny said pointedly.

“Understood… sir,” Thomas swallowed hard.

The computer ran its program, thousands, hundreds of thousands of lines of code fluttering across the screen, the Padrino’s speed was impressive to say the least. They definitely had to teach him that sometime.

After a minute of them staring at the terminal in silence, the screen showed a resounding-

“Nothing?” Thomas and Danny said in unison.

“Correct,” Sixer said.

“Unfortunately,” continued Mace, “the translators are not equipped with enough memory storage to log something the size of a communications transmission.”

“So we’ve got nothing?” Thomas said, hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t know what he wanted the signal to be, but nothing was… incredibly unsatisfying, to say the least.

“Did you try to see recipient data?” Odis asked, eyeing the console code.

“What?” Thomas turned to him, confusion distorting the disappointment on his face.

“With the long range array, it’s got recipient data built into the message, so the thing knows who it’s going to,” Odis explained slowly. “Back in the day, we Galley used to strip data out of long range messages to find new planets to… interact with. It’s how we found the humies first, caught all those messages you kept throwing out into space.” Odis rifled through one of his side pockets and brought out something that looked like a key fob with a port on one end. He popped open a panel in the terminal and plugged it in, hitting a couple keys to sync the programs together. Thomas watched, confusion and disappointment morphing into a cautious optimism. Maybe they’d find something after all.

“And here… we… go!” Odis said smugly, triumphantly hitting the execute key. The screen rolled the code again, but this time information began loading, the computer compiling the data for them.

“And you just happen to have this… why?” Danny looked sternly in the Galley’s direction.

“If it makes you feel any better Chief, most of my free time has been spent with the kid playing Terran video games,” Odis snickered. “Don’t worry about what I’ve been up to, worry about whoever is sending messages to the GAIL High Council.”

“What the hell?” Danny exclaimed, leaning over the console to examine the data.

Sure enough, they couldn’t recover any of the message, the data was just too big for the little device to have caught any. However, Odis’s tracer did show that whatever the signal was, it had gone straight to someone by the name of Mons on the High Council of the Grand Assembly of Intelligent Lifeforms.

“Chief, what the hell are we looking at?” Thomas asked, for the first time actually realizing that something could be deeply, darkly wrong on the ship.

“This doesn’t make any sense, communications can’t go directly to the Council, not without going through Captain Skitch and me,” Danny kept looking at the screen, rereading the data from start to finish, over and over again, before pulling out his data pad and copying all of it down, taking photos too.

“What are you doing?” Sixer asked.

“Making sure whatever we have here, there’s multiple copies so we can’t lose any proof later.”

“Do you suspect there’s another agenda aboard this ship Chief Ducane?” Mace followed.

“… I sincerely hope not, but either way, none of this ever happened. Not a single one of you saw any of this, okay? Nothing and no one,” Danny looked at each of them in turn, making sure they understood his meaning, “is going to hear about any of this. And when I call any of you to my office, it’s double time, understood?”

“You got it Chief,” Thomas said immediately, the others following suit, but with much less gusto.

“Beep.”

[Task: protect Noah in progress]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The work shift ended with no more excitement, however Thomas’s heart rate hadn’t declined even a bit in the following hours. The idea that something could threaten the ship, his ship, the ship he’d almost died for already, filled him with some very mixed emotions, not the least of which was apprehension. It did reassure him that Chief Ducane seemed like a good guy, and that he wasn’t going to take any disciplinary measures against the worker crew for anything, but the idea that they could be called on to actually do something was daunting.

Walking to the mess hall, Thomas realized he’d never actually made any of the requested repairs to Danny office. He pulled a comm-link out of his back pocket and sent a quick “sorry, I’ll be right there to fix the door” text, but was alarmed at what the Chief of Security replied almost instantly.

>Someone searched my office while cameras were out of commission. Nothing is missing. They took advantage of the door being jammed and unlocked<

Another message:

>Don’t come up here, it’ll look suspicious for the both of us. I’ll make another request tomorrow. Tell your friends to be careful, and come to me immediately if you see anything at all<

Thomas shakily put the comm-link back in his pocket and headed back towards the Vending Machines. He saw Odis sitting in the corner and joined him after getting his food.

“You ever think someone in the GAIL could do something pretty bad?”

“What, you think you humans have a monopoly on being kind of shitty?” Odis snorted. “You’re not that weird, you know.”

[magicmousetrash]

Krel Tarron x Reader

Non-binary reader

SFW Scenario

It takes place during the 3below series

I'm writing all this with the translator since English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes please let me know <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

🪄🐁: I will soon come with more food

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Krel was back in front of the holographic screen in his room, drumming his fingers nervously. He was determined to win the heart of his human crush, but earthling customs remained a mystery. How did humans connect emotionally without all the advanced technology and science he knew? So she had turned to "Mother" for advice.

—Mother, I need your help, —he said seriously, taking a breath.—I want to… impress a human.

The AI projected its holographic form, and Krel felt a slight flicker of discomfort as the ship's sensors analyzed his request.

—Understood, Prince Krel. I can provide suggestions on human courtship. Data shows that humans respond to certain common social stimuli. I will proceed to share a series of recommendations.

Krel nodded, looking over the list of tips that appeared before him. It seemed simple, in theory. How difficult could it be?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tip 1: A meaningful gift

—"A thoughtful gesture or a small gift is a way of showing appreciation between humans."

Krel frowned as he reviewed that first tip. He knew humans gave flowers and chocolates, but he wanted something more special. Something unique, something that would show how much he cared... without it being very obvious.

Determined, he spent the whole night creating a… how to describe it? A small, handmade device. It was a mix between a terrarium with a bioluminescent plant and a small gravitational field that made the object float gently. Krel thought it was impressive and was sure his crush would appreciate it.

The next day, with a big, self-satisfied grin, Krel approached them at school.

—I made this for you, —he said, holding the floating contraption in an outstretched hand. —I thought you might like it.

They looked at it, at first intrigued by the strange gift. But as soon as they took it, the plant began to emit a flickering glow that grew in intensity.

It’s so… cute! —they said, smiling at first. But as soon as the glowing plant started spinning faster and blinking wildly, their expressions changed to panic. —Is this safe?.

Before Krel could respond, the artifact began to sputter and floated too high, crashing into the ceiling of the hallway and exploding in a small burst of light.

Krel cleared his throat, trying to appear calm.

—Maybe… it needs a couple of adjustments, —he said as he picked up the remains of the device..

First attempt: disaster.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tip 2: Specific compliments

—"Personalized compliments create a greater emotional connection between humans."

Krel thought this advice would be easy to follow. He knew a lot about his crush. He knew they liked science and was pretty smart. So, he decided that praising their intellect would be a great move.

The next day in chemistry class, Krel sat next to her and waited for the perfect moment. As she focused on measuring a substance, Krel decided to intervene.

—Your accuracy with test tubes is… statistically astonishing, —he commented enthusiastically.

They looked at him, not knowing whether to laugh or worry.

—Thanks… I think. —they replied, somewhat bewildered.

Krel decided to double down, thinking that perhaps a more specific compliment would be better.

—And the way you calculated the molar concentration of that solution… it’s almost as if you could handle mathematics at the quantum level.

Now they were clearly more confused than impressed.

—Uh… well, I learned it in class last year. —they answered, trying not to sound strange.

Krel bit his lip, realizing he might be going off on a bit of a tangent.

—What I mean is… you are very smart..

They smiled politely.

Second attempt: weird...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tip 3: Be protective

—"Showing care and protection creates a sense of emotional security."

Krel was convinced that this advice would be a success. He had noticed that humans reacted positively when someone showed concern for their safety. And since he had advanced skills in protecting others, he thought it was his time to shine.

As they walked together towards the cafeteria, he saw some kids running past, clearly not paying attention to their surroundings. This is my chance, Krel thought.

With quick movements, he pulled his crush to the side, placing them behind him with exaggerated protection.

—Watch out! —he exclaimed, turning dramatically. —You could have been run over by those reckless individuals!

They stared at him, mouths agape, totally surprised.

—Krel, they were just… running, — They said, with a nervous smile.

Krel was unfazed. He was certain he had done the right thing.

—You can never be too careful. Safety first. —he replied determinedly.

They laughed softly, clearly seeing the situation as a bit exaggerated.

Third attempt: exaggerated overprotection

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tip 4: Quality time

The last tip was simpler: spend quality time together. No technology, no interruptions, just being in the moment. Krel thought this would be easy, but he underestimated how hard it would be not to use technology..

As they strolled through the park after school, Krel tried to hold a normal conversation. But soon, the silence felt awkward, and Krel began drumming his fingers, wishing he could Open your device to avoid this awkward situation.

Finally, he decided to distract himself from technology and focus all his attention on them.

—Did you know that the human brain releases dopamine during pleasant conversations? —he said, trying to start a topic that seemed interesting to him.

They looked at him, laughing softly.

—Really? That’s… good to know.

Krel nodded, glad to have steered the conversation back to a scientific topic. But then, without realizing it, he started talking about chemicals that activate dopamine in the brain… for 15 minutes straight.

By the time he realized it, they were looking at him with a mix of fascination and exhaustion.

—Krel, that was… very informative. —they said, trying to sound friendly.

Fourth attempt: excessive talk.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At the end of the day, Krel returned to his room, somewhat frustrated, and stared at "Mother's" screen, waiting for her assessment.

—Mother, how did I do it? —he asked, sighing.

—The results indicate that 45% of your attempts were successful and 55% were questionable. I recommend adjustments to your approaches.

Krel slumped back into his chair.

—Maybe… humans are more complicated than I thought.

Despite everything, they allowed themselves a small smile. Even though everything had gone a little wrong, there was something charming about his mistakes. And they… well, thay hadn't completely walked away. That was a good start.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

We all love this alien boy called Krel

[wolfliving]

Dead AI IoT

Humane AI finally shuts down, HP pays $116m for the pieces — not including the Ai Pin

By David Gerard on 19 February 2025

Humane, creator of the fabulous and literally nonfunctional Ai Pin gadget — that's "Ai," not "AI" — has finally thrown in the towel.

After Humane took $230 million in venture funding and tried and failed to sell itself for $1 billion, Hewlett-Packard is paying $116 million to acqui-hire most of the team and get Humane’s software and patents. [Humane, archive]

There was also some burbling from HP about “an intelligent ecosystem across all HP devices from AI PCs to smart printers and connected conference rooms,” which probably means floundering a bit then selling the software on once again, as they did with Palm and WebOS.

We’re sure that Humane’s venture capital backers — including Sam Altman, Microsoft, and Marc Benioff — will be delighted that minus-50% is now the expected realized return on AI investments in the bubble.

HP is notably not taking on the Ai Pin itself — probably because it’s completely useless and doesn’t work. The hardware overheats and fails, the projected display isn’t visible in sunlight, and the software chains together LLMs to fail to understand or translate conversations. Also, it might catch fire.

The remaining Ai Pins will work until February 28, when the back-end servers at Humane shut down. After that date, you can ... check the battery level? Pretty good for a $700 gadget with a $24/month subscription. We’re sure both customers will be delighted. ]Humane, archive; Humane, archive]

[sartcastix]

Moon Mites by @puzzleddonkey

Some lazy sketches of my moon mite oc, Two! the first 2 sketches of it are when I was learning to draw moon mites and the last 2 are just recently when I realized I haven't drawn it in a while. (which hopefully explains the quality difference,,,)

Info about the character VVV

He's one of the few mites who managed to learn a different language and put it into practice.

Two is most fluent in English, offering a translating business for other aliens (mostly humans or other aliens who speak English) willing to trade with Mites. Two also does business with Mites, creating the Mite Script translating devices. (For a fee, of course)

Two travels to small communities and planets; a permanent hitchhiker. Its manners are immaculate, and many aliens are taken aback when Two speaks up about how he is "completely separated from any mite impulses" This is partially true, until his bottled-up urges explode when he's alone.

He sides with the Ancient Mite, believing certain, specially chosen mites can evolve into a more civilized alien-kind. The morals of this debate are concerning, to say the least.

Two hates walking on all fours and will occasionally wear clothing. Two is slightly taller than your average Mite. He is smart, but not as intellegent as A.M.

(I sincerely apologize if some of his lore isn't quite accurate, the Moon Mite lore is very complicated for me to understand lol)

[briefalpacashark]

=The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare=

=Plus a Woman or Two=

Upon the Maid Honour the four gentlemen sat around their communication device. Hasey listened closely on the headphones writing down the translated morse code. ”Rendezvous confirmed. Arriving by Aunt Hilda,” Hasey read out as they all turned to Gus, who smirked. ”Aunt Hilda?” Freddy asked. ”When we were children, we were looked after by our aunt. Mean old woman. We called her the enemy. It means dear old pat will be arriving in an enemy vessel,” Gus seemed to ponder the strangeness to it just as the others did. ”Enemy vessel. Hell be bringing Nazis with him?” Lassen asked. ”No, Pat’s far too smart for that. Probably nicked a boat and doesn’t want us to blow it up,” Gus shrugged. ”So this Pat fella. A sniper, you say?” Freddy asked, voicing the curiosity they all shared. ”One of the best,” Gus stated proudly. ”Some to watch our backs from afar?” Hasey acknowledged the well thought out addition. Having the extra security of a guardian angle watching over them would provide unfathomable reassurance. ”Exactly. Our own little guardian angle,” Gus nodded. ”And when will our angle arrive?” Lassen asked.

A day later, all the men, minus Apple, stood upon the deck of the ship. Gus finished his last rotation, sighing as he lowered his spyglass. ”Two hours late. It’s not looking good,” Freddy commented, taking a draw of his pipe as he rested up against the railing. ”Your right. Dear old Pat’s never late. Something’s wrong,” Gus muttered, a sinking feeling filling his gut. ”Don’t worry. If he shares any of your blood he’ll be fine,” Hasey had heard of Pat many a time. And he knew how deeply Gus cared for his younger sibling. ”Still,” Gus tapped the spyglass nervously as he scanned the horizon. Lassen sat atop the roof of the boat, frowned as a soft buzzing entered his ears. Tilting his head, he listened closer. ”Can you hear that?” he asked. ”Hear what?” Freddy asked. Turning his head once again Lassen held his hand to point to the sky. ”That,” he said. The rest of them listened in and after a few seconds, they could hear it. ”Sounds like a,” Hasey trailed off as they all shared a look. ”A plane,” Gus finished as they all stood to their feet, each searching the sky in worry. For there was another threat upon the path of the sea they were taking. Nazi bombers looking for British destroyers to sink. Bombers that if they didn’t find what they were, looking for could take out their anger on a little Swedish fishing boat. ”There!” Freddy pointed out to the left of the boat. They all rushed to the side, Gus looking through the spyglass. There, painted with big nazi’s symbols, was a fighter plane, headed stright towards them. ”ARM YOURSELVES MEN!” Gus’s yell had them all scrambling for weapons. Hasey was the first down below deck, rushing for where they kept the guns. Freddy jumped down after him. Gus and Lassen watched as the plane swooped down faster than expected. ”TAKE COVER!” Hasey emerged from below deck his gun raised searching for the plane, his head jerking up as it soared over head. Seeing a mass dropping from the plane, they all threw themselves to cover. What they assumed to be a bomb landed on the deck with a heady thud and a slight bounce. After a few seconds of not being blown to bits, they all recovered, looking at the so-called bomb. Gus was the first to approach. ”It’s a bag,” he stated, unzipping it to find an assortment of clothes and guns inside. They all turned to the right where the plane continued to fly, away and lowering inch by inch steadily. To their surprise, the pilot jumped from the plane, disappearing into the water below. Shortly after, in an explosive mess, the plane crashed into the waves.

Calmly the leather flight cap bobbed from the depths of the waves to watch the plane you had previously been in sink into the waves. With a small satisfied smile you turned around and started to swim towards the ship.

As you approached, you paused slightly. You couldn’t see your brother. The possibility of the meetup being a trap was quite probable. After all, you have made a long list of enemies. Your hand clasped around your lower leg where the outline of a knife handle could be felt. With your assurance plan still intact, you continued on. You were in quit a large flight suit which in no way made it easy to swim, but it also covered your womanly curves. Gus, and Freddy held their new acquaintance at gun point as you heaved yourself up the side of the boat. Coughing and sputtering, you played the waterlogged victim as you kneeled down. Hasey with a handgun in hold, crept forward. ”You alright lad?” Hasey tried to get a better look at your face, keeping his distance while slowly creeping forward. Only he wasn’t distanced enough. You took one quick look around, your vision clouded and stinging from the salt water, made out no recognizable features. So you did the next logical thing. Your hand slipped under your pant leg gripping the knife tightly as you lept forward, elbowing Hasey in the neck. The poor lad gasped in shock as you took his hand, spinning his arm around, holding it in a lock, as you kicked out the back of his knee, bringing him to kneel.

Your movements were too quick and sudden for them to react, and you held Hasey in such a way that you used his body to shield your own. With a painful twist of the arm, his gun clattered to the deck. The glint of metal put them all on edge as you pressed the blade to the lad’s neck. Now these were strangers to you, quite possibly enemies. More than likely, Nazi’s with the guns they held towards you. So you held no remorse as you pressed the blade into the soft flesh, drawing a drop of blood. You cursed yourself for the stupidity of falling for such a trick, your mind racing with an impossible plan to get yourself out of the mess you had made. ”DROP THE BLADE!” Freddy demanded. You paused. English?

”Come on now, don’t be stupid,” another said with a heavy Swedish accent. Swedish? You peeked out from behind the lad’s shoulder. ”Shoot em!” he yelled. Irish? ”You’re not Nazi’s,” your soft voice, although gruff, was unmistakably feminine. That fact had them all pausing in shock. ”I would hope not,” a voice all too familiar drew your gaze to the man that held the gun to the left. ”Gusley?” you questioned. Gus’ eye widened at the familiar nickname. ”Pat?” he questioned. You moved further out from behind the lad, displaying your full face. You blinked rapidly, your vision clearing as you squinted. It was your brother, you were sure of that. Only you almost didn’t recognise him with his new but stylish beard. ”What on earth have you got on your face?” you asked. ”What? You don’t like it? I think it’s rather stylish,” Gus laughed in joy at your arrival, brushing his hand down the length of his beard. The other men frowned but eased up at the sudden friendly exchanged between the two. Even though they were beyond confused as to why he referred to you as Pat. ”Captain, who is this?” Freddy asked hesitantly. ”Ah Caps. It is my incredible honour to introduce to you Pat. Pat is short for Patience, my dear little sister,” Gus smiled brightly. A smile that greatly over shunned the utterly perplexed expressions of his fellow sailors. ”Pat This is Anders Lassen, Freddy Alvares, and that poor chap your seconds away from decapitating is Henry Haynes,” Gus introduced the small group. You frowned, looking down at the lad. ”Malcoml’s little brother?” you asked. ”The one and only,” Gus stated. ”Can’t be, he’s far too pretty,” you said, Hasey unsure whether or not he should be offended by the statement looked to Lassen for help. Just as confused as he was, Lassen shrugged. You looked to the giant of the man, your eyes flickering worriedly down to the knife he held at the ready. Then back up to his eyes as your gazes meet. Handsome, you thought. ”Agreed. But don’t suppose you could let him go, regardless. He’s looking a little frightened,” Gus said. Realizing it wasn’t a trap, your body relaxed your hold on the lad, losing raising your blade up with an open palm to show you meant no harm. At the action, the other men seemed to calm down, their weapons lowering. Hayes scampered from you retreating to the safety behind Freddy’s gun. ”Patience. I missed you,” Gus’ smile was filled with love as he opened his arms, awaiting the hug he was sure to receive. You pondered a moment for the most acuate answer to his assumption. You started to move towards him, the knife falling to the deck as the same hand reached up to grasp the piolets cap. Gripping the top of it you were now mere steps away from your dear brother. A man you loved without bounds. The others watched on to what they assumed was going to be a heartfelt reunion. Only there shock exploded when you ripped the cap from your head, your long fiery locks alighting in the bright sun. And your right hand reeling back. When Gus realized what you intended to do with the hand, it was too late. The cracking sound of a nose breaking filled the air around you as you let loose one jolly good and well-deserved punch. Falling flat on his ass holding a now bleeding nose, Gus recoiled from the shock. ”Fuck you, Gustavus,” you spat. ”What in the blazes was that for!?” Gus asked in bewilderment. ”For getting yourself arrested, you idiotic numpty. Honestly, how stupid do you have to do to do such a thing?” you scolded the fully grown man like a toddler. ”Well, it wasen’t exactly my intention,” he grunted, pushing himself to his feet, cursing as he looked at his bloodied hand.

”You know how worried I was about you? Thought you were captured by enemies. Imagin my surprise when I was informed that your in fact not capture but arrested for what was it again?” You asked sarcastically. ”You know I can’t seem to remember,” Gus shrugged, whipping the blood on his cuff. ”For blowing up a fellow majors shack after you lost a BET!” you snapped. ”He cheated,” Gus shrugged. The scowl on your face had his hands raised in defense. ”My dear, I sincerely apologize,” he placed a hand over his heart, giving you one of his famous cheeky smiles. With a sigh, you felt the grip on your anger fade away as you closed the distance once again. Only this time, you wrapped your arms around the brother you had dearly missed, hugging him tightly. ”Bloody idiot,” you whispered. With a warm smile Gus’ arms enclosed around your small figure, him having to lean over slightly to rest his chin on the top of your head. ”Good to see you Patsy,” he whispered back. ”I am so confused,” Hasey earned nods of agreement from the other men. ”What’s there to be confused about?” Gus questioned, pulling back to tuck you under his arm. You glanced over the men properly this time. Taking them all in. ”Pleasure to meet you all,” you gave a small polite nod. The group examined the pair of you. Gus’ bright bloodied smile and all the way down to your bare feet. Due to you having kicked them off in the struggle of swimming. A strange pair indeed. ”I wish I could say the same,” Hayse muttered, his fingers brushing against the small cut. ”I apologise. I thought you were Nazis,” you shrugged. ”You thought we were Nazi’s?” Lassen asked, nodding to where the plane had disappeared. “Your the one arriving in a Nazi plane,” he stated. ”Yes well. I was in enemy territory. Options for transport were limited. Apologies for the scare gents,” you said, brushing back a few strands of hair. A few more seconds of accepting and computing the new arrival was had. ”Quit a slow lot, aren’t they?” you whispered to Gus, who chuckled. ”Give them a second,” Gus said. ”So this Pat isn’t a lad at all. She’s a woman, your little sister, and a sniper?” Hayes clarified. ”Why didn’t you tell us before?” Freddy asked. ”You didn’t ask. In fact, you assumed. Not once did I call her a him,” Gus explained. ”Didn’t call her a she either,” Lassen pointed out. You looked to him, finding no malice in his statement. He held your gaze steady, offering a small smile as he propped an eyebrow.

”You’ll forgive me gentlemen. I do enjoy the theatrics surrounding the Angle of Death’s gender,” he stated with a cheeky grin. ”Please tell me you didn’t just put me on a boat with men that think a gun has no place in a woman’s hands,” you sighed a look, daring them to protest otherwise. In a time where woman were considered creatures of the kitchen, there were many that would frown upon your presence. ”Gus says you're good enough for this team. That’s good enough for me,” Hasey shrugged. ”From what we just saw, I’m sure you're well capable,” Lassen gestured towards you. You nodded, then turned to the last one, who, while his gun was lowered, was still at the ready. ”No problem here,” he stated, letting it hang at his side. ”Good, well, i’m going to get changed out of these wet clothes. Any of you poke your head down there, I’ll chop your balls off and force feed them down your throat before I pulled them out of your stomach though your gut. Understood?” you asked, picking up the knife stopping at the entrance to below deck turning to them all awaiting a answer. Nods and agreements were passed around and when you were satisfied you went below deck. ”What a woman,” Lassen comment had each and every one of them nodding with remarks of agreement.

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Master List =Here=

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[mochacoda]

[teaser] night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5K (full)

Release Date: February 9 -> RELEASED HERE

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite his chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go.” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch, like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful.

Masterlist

Author's Note: now RELEASED HERE for all the singles who need a big literary hug this valentines week

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone

[youroriginalsublimecupcakestuff]

( They're a popular tale in japan that say that while he was teaching english one of Natsume Soseki's student translated i love you directly into japanese and that upon seeing it natsume soseki replied that : “Japanese people never say things like that shamelessly. You’d better translate it as tsuki ga kirei desu ne (‘The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?’).” (https://www.wikihow.com/The-Moon-Is-Beautiful-Isn%27t-It )

Chuuya run to dazai angrily : " spit it out you bandage wasting device".

Dazai raise his brow lazily : " Oh Oh ! Have your ugly hat finally eaten up your brain chuuya ? The great dazai-sama can help you out you just have to owe me some small service."

Chuuya shake dazai up : " Don't try to play dumb i know that mori-san told you a code that he learned from his sensei. "

Dazai haughtily " A code uh i see, my very big and very smart brain can remember something like that but you have to be more precise slug if you do that i can find in my big heart to help this pitiful chibi ."

Chuuya angrily : " Stop it with the height joke already, what are you 12 ? " ... " As for the code well a few days ago when i was drinking tea with the boss and ane-san he told us a code that he got from his old sensei " the moon is beautiful isn't it ? " but i searched everywhere what does it mean and i only got that i should ask you so spit it out already what does it mean ? "

Dazai's eyes widen : " i didn't know that you have it in you o-chibi I could die happy."

Chuuya annoyed : " Then perish ! " ... " You can't even be serious for two minutes ?! Tell me what this damn code mean already."

Dazai look at chuuya right in the eyes while moving toward him " It's true isn't it ? ." Then he tenderly cup chuuya check " While the moon is truly beautiful tonight . So are you chuuya."

Chuuya shiver : " You're giving me goosebump, you really haven't changed since we we're fifteen."

Dazai, surprised (*he remember*) : " It will never change i always feel this way even since this day when you cursed me with your presence, you should take responsability chibi."

Chuuya, blush : " Wait you're serious." ... " Well you should have say it directly instead of acting like a damn cryptic ! I don't even know why but unfortunately i love you too mackerel."

Dazai pout while blushing : " You really have no romantic bone in your body you stupid slug well as you're one and only boyfriend, i can try to salvage it but even a genius like me can't do miracle. You can't say that i don't do anything for you."

[thaisibir]

SEES members react to getting anesthesia: headcanons from a real anesthetist

(Go here for post on Phantom Thieves react to getting anesthesia)

Makoto: the guy who secretly smokes weed, chews through roc every 15 minutes, needs over 1.5 MAC maintenance sevo. (Laymans terms translation: smokes weed so he burns through a ton of muscle paralytic agent (rocuronium) and anesthetic gas (sevoflurane) needed to keep him relaxed and deeply asleep)

Yukari: had her hair and nails done the day before surgery, wakes up from anesthesia asking if she said anything dumb and apologizing if she did. (Complimenting patients on their nice nails is part of my small talk to attempt calming nerves when they're rolled into the OR)

Junpei: would try to fight anesthesia and count past 10 seconds, tries to cheat by counting fast (he loses anyway) (It's so amusing when patients try to challenge anesthesia. Some put up a good fight, but in the end, anesthesia always wins.)

Mitsuru: takes 300 mg of propofol on anesthetic induction, scares the shit out of OR staff when she still reaches for the airway device as the anesthetist tries to insert it. (Redheads tend to need more anesthetic than average. For context, the induction/knock-you-out dose for propofol is about 2 mg/kg. For frail old people, I halve that dose. Most people don't need more than a single 20 ml syringe/200 mg of propofol. I push 200 mg for big tall football/basketball guys. I've seen redheads take at least 2, even 3 syringes. Mitsuru would be a tough one to knock out.)

Akihiko: the extremely athletic ASA 1 guy with baseline bradycardia bordering on need for anticholinergics. Will most definitely wake up swinging fists and knocking out teeth and trying to jump out of the bed if he didn't get enough sedative on board beforehand. (Healthy athletic young patients (HAY patients, I call them) tend to wake up violently and delirious from anesthetic gas. To mitigate this, there's a sedative called precedex that helps smooth out emergence from anesthesia. Good to give for little kids, teenage girls, and big strong-looking guys. As soon as I see I'll be getting an Akihiko/HAY type patient for an upcoming case, I already know to draw up and dilute precedex to have at the ready.)

Fuuka: actually a very pleasant and compliant patient, but has family history of malignant hyperthermia and allergies to practically everything, apologizes for all the trouble. (Malignant hyperthermia is a very rare, but very deadly anesthetic complication if not treated promptly. Many anesthesia providers go through their entire careers without ever seeing MH, but we're trained to know what to do if it ever happens. Anesthetic gases and a muscle paralytic agent called succinylcholine are MH triggers. The anesthesia machine must be completely removed of the gas canisters and flushed through with high flow oxygen for an hour or so, to really make sure none of that stuff is exposed to an MH patient. I like the idea of Fuuka turning out to be a patient requiring an extensive anesthetic plan when she totally wouldn't mean to)

Ken: the rare kid who's cool with getting an IV in preop. (Pediatric patients typically do not get an IV placed before being rolled back to the OR, as most kids are terrified of needles. Induction of anesthesia in the OR must instead be achieved by delivering high flow anesthetic gas through a mask. Once the kid is unconscious from the gas, then an IV can be placed to give medications throughout a case intravenously. Amada seems like the type to be fine with getting an IV placed when he's awake because that's what adults have to do.)

Aigis: is a robot, physically can't process anesthesia. (Probably goes without saying)

Koromaru: Mitsuru or Akihiko, as the oldest members of SEES, act as guardians to sign anesthesia consent forms. Holds out his front leg and rolls over to offer his chest so staff can put on the blood pressure cuff and EKG stickers. Adored by the vet and vet techs for being so smart and adorable.

Shinjiro: the guy you think would smoke weed and drink a lot but actually has a history of post-operative nausea and vomiting (PONV) and prolonged emergence from general anesthesia. (Somehow I like the idea of Shinjiro turning out to be a delicate flower when it comes to anesthetic requirements)