#here some colourful postcards to cheer you up :)

[stargazingcarol]

Into the blue, out of the blue.

Part one: Into the blue.

CHAPTER 3

Pairing: Jake Lockley x reader, Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader

Summary: You meet your neighbor and you're pretty sure he's American. But why is it that the next times you see eachother he speaks in a British accent. As you keep meeting you start falling for Steven. And then he disappears for a while and he's back and he tells you about Marc. But he also tells you about Layla. You really like Steven but now he's kinda married? What now?

Trigger warnings for the series: mental health problems, angst with a happy ending, fluff, slowburn. (A/N: i may add more warnings as the fic procedes).

A/N: In this chapter we see a little bit more of readers...problems. the moon knight system is not the only one with mental health problems/trauma. If anyone has any questions about the story my askbox is always open! Thanks for reading and also i DON'T do taglists. Sorry about that!

Chapter 3

Was it normal for a pair of people to become friends so fast? You kept asking yourself that. Was it weird that you were neighbors? You tried to shake the feeling that being friends with your neighbor was weird. Dr Williams told you it was fine, that friendships start at the oddest of places. That had made you sigh and stop your overthinking most of the time, sometimes it started up again but her words came to the front of your mind like a lullaby and you nodded like she was there saying them to you in real time.

As much as Steven had wormed himself into your life in the past few weeks, you could also feel him distancing himself, unwillingly it seemed. Almost not even noticeable by him.

He was missing more and more friend dates and sometimes you could cover for him, as in, lying to him, but other times you couldn't.

And you had to witness Steven's face falling, turning sad, distressed, sour. You tried to cheer him up sometimes but most of the time you couldn't. You will talk and his mind will be elsewhere. And you knew by the distanced stare he had, away from you, sometimes behind you, or other times at your eyes but he wasn't there, he was somewhere else and it was a little weird. You had to snap your fingers to get his attention. He would smile awkwardly and you would bite your lip and before he could say he was sorry for zoning out you would go back to your story.

Maybe his bad sleeping habits were getting to him.

You loved talking to Steven. You seemed to have lots of stories throughout your life and Steven just seemed to have facts about random things. He was very smart but he didn't seem like he had lived a lot. Which was weird because he was older than you. But you didn't question it.

The rare times he talked about his life he would talk about his mum, how good she was, making him his favorite foods and helping him colour drawings. Those seemed to be stories mostly from his childhood, though. It wasn't much detail but you treasure it with your heart.

The last thing he told you about her was that she seemed to be traveling, she sent him postcards here and there, telling him about her travels and how much she loved him.

The things about friendships was that at some point you started doing domestic stuff.

When Steven didn't work on Saturdays he would wake you up, completely cheerful and tell you it was cleaning time.

And one thing about depression was that sometimes you couldn't make yourself do stuff. Anything.

You were better yes, in a better mental state than years ago but even now sometimes you just couldn't make yourself clean your apartment.

"At least make me breakfast first." You had said the first time. With a tiny smirk as you hid behind the bedsheets, you had taken the sheets off of you and when you got out of the bed and looked down you had let out a tiny scream.

"I didn't look i swear" Steven said and after taking the pants you left in the floor the night before and putting them on, you burst out laughing and Steven looked between his fingers and slowly chuckled.

You did notice he was red all over his face and your heart soared.

The both of you have also began to go grocery shopping and the both of you have learnt a few things here and there about vegan baking. You have never done that before but it's nothing out of this world, most of the time it tastes very similar to "normal" baking.

Steven has cooked for you a lot, and you're excited to try new things and he is glad when you give him a thumbs up, signaling that you liked it. He always has a separate dish just in case you don't like what he makes you since you're not vegan yourself.

But all of these nice moments are a reminder that Steven did try to kiss you. Right? He hasn't made a move on you again and you can't stop thinking about it. It's there in the back of your mind like an itch you can't scratch.

He didn't seem like himself after it. Like it was a totally different person. How could that be?

Just last week you had gone to visit Steven and you had let yourself in, since a month ago he had told you you can make yourself at home anytime, you had brought popcorn to make in his microwave and a movie to watch in his DVD player.

It was almost nighttime and you had enter talking loudly and when you notice some ruffling, he woke up with a gasp from his bed and you just stared at him with your mouth wide open.

Steven needed like a second to know where he was and when he noticed you were in his apartment with a bag of popcorn looking at him. No. You were looking at his ankle restraint. Your eyes going between that and the sand.

He stared at you in what looked like panic and you closed your mouth, left the popcorn and movie in his desk and went over to his bed. You sat down and looked at him intently.

"Steven, are you sure you're okay? What's with the uh--" you looked at his ankle restraint, then to him. "Sand"

You looked genuinely curious and not judgemental and he gulped.

"I still feel-- I feel like, like I'm falling apart. Like my life is not my own anymore. I don't remember a lot of what's going on and I'm sure you're lying to me about some missed dates." He watches as you flinch at his words. "I'm sorry I'm sorry. I know if you're lying to me you must be doing it for my own good but I'm not sure that's good either. And i want to be okay but I'm not--I'm not sure what to do at this point" His hands go to the sides of his head and he pulls on his curls and you shush him, he sobs and you grab both of his hands softly letting go of his curls. he lets out a few sobs here and there and you wrap your hands around his.

"I'm not sure what to say, but I'm guessing it's become worse? Your sleeping habits?" You tilt your head a little and he looks at you with tears in his eyes.

"Yeah" he looks at your hands and starts to move his fingers against yours, caressing them. "I think i started sleep walking..." He whispers.

"What if you slept with me tonight? Or are you not sleepy anymore. Sorry I woke you up by the way." You make a face and he chuckles, he brushes his tears away.

"It's okay. I think... I think a distraction will be good. What movie did you bring?" He gives you the tiniest of smiles and your heart hurts so much for him.

You don't want to bring seeing up a therapist, you know not everyone likes hearing those words said to them. And you don't know how he will react if they come out of your mouth.

You don't know what to do. You're on a tough spot but at least the best you can do right now is be a good friend. A good neighbor.

So you excitedly get out of his bed and grab the movie, showing it to him. "Ta-da. It's the most best horrible disaster movie ever. 2012. Critics hated it and people got anxiety attacks from it. But don't worry it's mostly because it's about the supposed end of the world predicted by the Mayans. And that didn't happen so it seems silly now. But if you don't wanna watch it it's okay maybe we can watch something else--"

"I wanna see it. It's one of your favorites right?" He looks at you so tenderly it makes you want to take a picture.

His curls are on his forehead and there's still a bit of red in his eyes. There's a bit of hair on his chin and jaw that you know he will want to shave later. You wished, oh so desired, he would leave his beard grow. You bet he looked really... nice. Just imagining him with a mustache is making your toes curl and your breathing go faster than normal.

The question comes back to the front of your mind: does he like you? Yes or no?

**

"I guess that's what has happened lately in my life" you clap your hands on your legs, you feel the fabric of your jeans and pick on it. You're not looking Dr. Williams in the eyes. You know what she's about to ask you.

Dr. Williams hums and leans back on her chair, she looks intently at you, you can feel her stare on you but you're looking at the plushie on your side of the sofa you're sitting on. A monkey with a little blue jacket.

"By the way you're avoiding my gaze, I'm guessing you know what I'm about to ask you." You finally look at her and she's smiling, not in a bad intent way or anything. She's just, smiling.

You sigh and look at your fingers, your chipped nail polish being a distraction for a second before you look at her.

"I don't like him. I don't. I swear." You say.

"Like that?"

"Yeah like that. He's my friend. Nothing more. I was just curious to if he was going to kiss me or not" you keep avoiding her eyes and she lets out a chuckle.

From the corner of your eye, you see her adjust her glasses.

"And if he kissed you, would you have kissed him back?" That question makes you flinch.

You had been open to friendship, with anyone. You liked making friends. You didn't have much of those here after moving to London a few years ago. And making friends in your twenties is hard no matter what anyone says. But you weren't too...keen on liking someone again. Not after so so so many years of not liking anyone. Not after so much sadness that was brought to you by your sad teenage years.

You didn't think you were ready to face this part yet. You didn't want another....unrequited love added to the long list of unrequited loves that trailed behind you like a tail.

"No-- Maybe? NO. Absolutely not. No. No" You furrow your eyebrows in thought and Dr. Williams hums again.

"I sense some hesitancy in you. Do you want my opinion?"

You stay silent, looking at her shoes, black loafers that shine under the white light of her office. "On if I like him?" You mumble.

"Yes."

"I don't think so." You decide. But even if she doesn't say it you know what she would've told you. You could hear it in her voice in your head and everything. 'In my opinion, i think you do like him. And that's nothing to be ashamed for. He seems like a nice fellow. He may even like you--' LIES. You did NOT like him. And he did not like you. End of story.

"Well. Maybe you should reevaluate your feelings for him." Dr. Williams says and you groan, glaring at her and she chuckles. "Just saying. I'm your doctor after all. I'm supposed to give you tips on how to deal with stuff but if you won't admit some things then we can't move forward."

She gets up and leaves her file about you on the desk next to her. She fixes her clothes and turns to look at you. You're looking at her with an unreadable look on your face. Eyes distant. She sighs and sits down next to you, she moves the monkey plushie and she's about to put it away but decides against it. She grabs your hands and places the monkey and instantly you hold tightly to it.

"Liking someone is not the end of the world. And who knows, maybe he will end up liking you. And if it doesn't work out we can work through it. Me and you, together." She lays a hand on your arm and you look up at her with tears in your eyes that you're trying really hard to not let fall.

"I just don't want to go back to being so... blue, that i can't think, i can't take care of myself, i don't want to be... Depressed." A tear falls from your eye and Dr. Williams hugs you tightly.

It's not the first time she has hugged you but it feels as equally as comforting as it does everytime she does. Which is rarely.

You sigh and silently pray it's going to be okay. That you're going to be fine. And if not that Dr. Williams will help you if needed.

**

Sighing, you stare at your door for a moment, deep in thought. Lots of things are going through your mind. Lots of what if's. Good and bad if's. You shake your head trying to get rid of it. You don't want to think, you don't want to do anything but you need a distraction.

Taking the keys out of your pocket, you turn the lock and step in.

Just as you step in you feel something crumble under your shoe. You look down and move your foot, to see a paper on the wooden floors. You pick it up.

I will be gone for a few. Don't wait up for me. I'll come back.

- Steven

You furrow your eyebrows. Few? Few days? Weeks? Months? What the fuck?

[wellingtonwellsdaily]

News Hour

Good day, my lovely Wellingtons! It’s Uncle Jack here, ready to bring you the latest news from our beautiful town. Have you taken your Joy today? I certainly hope so, because it’s time for News Hour, where we keep you informed about all the wonderful things happening in Wellington Wells.

Let’s start with some exciting news from the Wellington Wells Arts Council. They’ve just announced a brand-new art exhibition that will be opening next week at the Wellington Wells Museum. The exhibit, titled Colours of Joy, features works from some of our most talented local artists, each piece bursting with vibrant colors and positive energy. Whether you’re an art enthusiast or just looking for something beautiful to brighten your day, this exhibition is not to be missed. The grand opening will be on Thursday evening, complete with a wine and cheese reception – how delightful!

In other news, our town’s beloved Wellington Wells Bakery is celebrating its 50th anniversary this month! To mark the occasion, they’re hosting a week-long celebration starting Monday, with special offers on all their most popular treats, including the famous Wellington Wells Jammy Dodgers and their mouth-watering sticky buns. There will also be baking demonstrations, giveaways, and a chance to win a year’s supply of bread! So, if you have a sweet tooth, be sure to stop by and join in the festivities.

Now, onto a bit of health news. The Wellington Wells Health Department has issued a friendly reminder to all residents to stay hydrated, especially as the summer heat continues. They recommend drinking at least eight glasses of water a day and avoiding too much time in direct sunlight. If you’re planning to spend time outdoors, don’t forget to wear a hat, apply sunscreen, and of course, take your Joy! Staying hydrated and cheerful is the key to enjoying these sunny days to the fullest.

Speaking of summer fun, the Wellington Wells Summer Fair is just around the corner! This year’s fair promises to be bigger and better than ever, with rides, games, food stalls, and live entertainment. It’s the perfect event for families, friends, and anyone looking to soak up the festive atmosphere. The fair will be held in Victory Park next weekend, so be sure to bring your Joy and your sense of adventure!

Finally, a quick note from the Wellington Wells Post Office. They’ve recently updated their mailing hours and services to better accommodate our busy lives. The post office will now be open until 7 PM on weekdays, making it easier than ever to send letters, packages, and of course, postcards to your loved ones. After all, a little note from a friend is often just the thing to brighten someone’s day, don’t you think?

Well, I'm afraid we've come to the end of our time, my dear Wellingtons. I hope you feel more connected to our wonderful community and ready to take on the day with a smile. Remember, staying informed is a part of staying Joyful, so keep tuning in for all the latest updates. Until next time, keep smiling, keep spreading Joy, and always remember: happiness is a choice. Choose Joy!

[cinhomi]

haha the wolfchan I got is a fan made plush so it's not the official one, the rest of 3racha as well 🙈 but I do have an official bbokari because a) I love bbokari b) none of the fan made bbokaris I've seen so far compare to the official one TT (don't even get me started on the fake ones they look like his evolutionary failure cousin 😭)

no worries about the fem skz thing! i totally get it ^_^

the covers 😭 when they released that preview of them holding the album I refused to believe those were it 💀 the graphics for rockstar looked so good with the colours I was fully expecting the album covers to echo that :/ I think for 5 star I didn't have any expectations, but they ATE. so I was kinda expecting more for this one as well. I just know hyunjin is dying inside looking at them 😭 (I did order the Nemo version so I'm glad because I do like the design)

my day is slightly better today, but still very exhausting :( wb you? do you wanna talk about it? I'm always here to listen 🥰

anyways I'm gonna head to bed, I'm about to pass out 💀 here's a reel to cheer you up (unfortunately not skz related, those will be back after tonight :D) https://www.instagram.com/reel/CyYRomsIz52/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

- titracha nonnie (also, convinced that burying your face in jiddies will make 100% of your problems disappear. just saying-)

but it's still a wolfchan 😔 *sigh* 😔 I want a wolfchan too ㅠㅠ

mmh I agree, but I -unfortunately- saw the leaked album (I don't know how some people already have it duh) and the postcards, pcs and posters are literally the best. they're even cooler than the previous ones in my opinion. it's just that the damn covers... they're so... not serving cunt at all.

my day was basically a serie of unfortunate events one after another, all piling up to my stress and anxiety. I took some time to calm down and now I'll go study for a few hours before sliding under the covers and writing passionate smutー I very much need it. I'm starting to get impatient, I want to post soon.

that reel was... a rollercoaster of emotions... VERY appreciated, 10/10 ✨️ /srs

jiddies would indeed make any problem disappear. having Jisung in general would make any problem disappear. someone please gift me a Han Jisung please...

[vooruitmariek]

The April showers are here so just in time... Made a spring postcard set :)

Available on my Etsy.

[freckleslikestars]

Trinkets

Giftshops and love confessions, set some time season 7

1053 words, read here on AO3

‘I’m sorry we didn’t see a Hodag, Mulder.’

He shrugged, morose. They’d been trekking through the Wisconsin snow following reports of missing people and sights of the horrendous Hodag. What they’d found, instead, was a cave of frozen bodies and the remains of a fire that hadn’t kept them warm.

He was now tailing her like a lost puppy as she roamed the local tourist information centre and gift shop in search of an appropriate postcard to send home to her mother, something she always did on the road. An endearing Scully trait he found adorable. He even had a couple of treasured postcards stuck to his fridge; one from Maine, another from San Diego. Both arrived home after her, but they’d made him smile to find them in his mail, her soft cursive flourishing around his name.

‘Cheer up and I’ll buy you a Hodag keyring,’ she grinned, plucking the enamel beast from a jangling box of them and dangling it from her finger.

‘Whilst tempting, I can think of other things that would cheer me up more,’ he waggled his eyebrows and she scoffed and shook her head.

‘I would have thought last night would have cheered you up significantly, then,’ she demurred quietly as she brushed past him, bowing her head to hide her blush as she made her way to the cash register.

He smiled softly as he ran his hand through the wooden tray of polished stones, remembering the taste of her, the pliant, malleable feel of her beneath his fingertips as she melted.

A shelf of snow globes distracted him and he went over to shake one, entranced by the swirl of snow around the hog-like creature. His attention wandered yet again, to be caught by a small box of mood rings, the likes of which could be found in every tourist shop across the country. He slipped one onto his little finger and watched it change colour, settling on the navy of ‘cool’, whatever that meant. He smirked, went to twist it off to only find it stuck.

‘Mulder?’ Scully called over, and he looked up, ‘I’m done here.’

‘Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll meet you out there.’

She gave him a frown but nodded and headed out. It wasn’t like he had previous for lingering in gift shops, having nobody at home he really felt the inclination to buy anything for. Nobody but Scully, and he knew she’d just roll her eyes if he were to buy her a fridge magnet at every place they visited on cases.

With a sharp yank, he pulled the ring off and was about to drop it back in the box when he reconsidered.

She was leaning back on the car when he joined her outside, rereading what she had written on the postcard to her mother before she posted it. She raised a questioning eyebrow when he drew up to stand before her, a sly grin on his face, ‘hold out your hand, Scully.’

‘Why?’ she asked sceptically, postcard slipping into her pocket as her hand hesitated by her side.

‘Just do it.’

She rolled her eyes but did as he asked, presenting her hand palm up to him. He turned it over and kissed her knuckles before unfurling his other hand and, after lingering over her ring finger, swallowed thickly and slipped the mood ring onto her index finger.

Her heart stopped for a moment, her chest tightening as she felt the cool metal brush against the tip of her ring finger, eyes widening in momentary panic. She huffed a laugh when she looked down to see the mood ring on her index finger, trying to shake off the nervous energy she suddenly felt coursing through her body. This, them, together: it was new. Three months new, but still new. It might have been seven years in the waiting, but everything felt different now. The tension had changed, not for better or worse, it was just different. But she wanted time to get used to it before they changed it again. Wanted time to enjoy...whatever it was they were doing. And certainly wanted to establish exactly what they were doing before they made such a commitment. Just a discussion, something that was somewhat lacking and purposefully avoided by both parties.

‘It’s a mood ring.’

She cleared her throat, ‘yeah. I can see that.’

‘Green. According to the chart that means you’re in love,’ he murmured, leaning down closer to her. ‘Are you in love?’

Her cheeks flushed and she turned her head away, eyes unfocused, ‘it’s, uh, it’s a gimmicky ring for children, Mulder,’ her voice cracked as she avoided his gaze, ‘it works on body heat. And even if it were scientific in any way, the weather conditions and my being bundled up in hat, scarf and coat would make any results unreliable.’

‘That didn’t answer my question,’ his voice was full of false bravado, trembling with a quiet fear of rejection.

His thumb had taken up a sweeping path across the back of her hand, and needing something to occupy her other hand she moved it up to his tie, straitening it and tracing the patterns, fixing her eyes to it as she contemplated her response. With one final stroke to smooth it down, she looked up at him, cupped his cheek in her palm, ‘Mulder, you don’t need a mood ring to know I’m in love with you.’

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ her fingers curled around the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her height so she could press a soft, chaste kiss against his lips.

‘Say it again?’ he asked, nudging her nose with his own.

‘What? I love you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Hm,’ she chuckled, kissed him again, ‘I love you.’

He pressed his forehead to hers, dropped his hands to her hips as he breathed her love in, occasionally tilting his head to give her pecks until a snowflake tumbled down to catch in her eyelash. He wiped it away, tugged at her hand as he opened the car door for her and helped her in, walking around the front and sitting down in the driver's seat.

They’d been on the road for five minutes when he broke the soft, contented quiet that had formed around them, ‘Scully?’

‘Mm?’

‘I love you, too.’

tagging @today-in-fic

[sunflowersseemhappy]

Do you have any headcanons for main 6 set in modern times? What kind of job would they have, what music would they like or whatever else? I love your headcanons, they're always so detailed and on point 💖

I really loved doing this, only reason it took so long is because I definitely over thought a lot of this. Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy the headcanons, I definitely want to do more of this! SO when I have the time I definitely will and I actually have a rough plan of what the story and the background for the six and MC’s would be.

The “Event” mentioned references the plague but when and if I get to it that will all be explained.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED but here is my Masterlist in the meantime!

Asra

You’ll usually find Asra in one of two places, the shop or the local cafe/bakery, living the slow city life.

Asra loves to people watch and more importantly he loves photography, he’s always taking pictures, a lot of them are of MC.

His bedroom wall is plastered with his photography and he sells a lot of them as a side gig on etsy.

He has a great blog too.

But his main focus is the shop, tucked away on a quiet corner street it feels faintly magical. Asra does tarot, sells candles, crystals and other trinkets, as well as herbal remedies that Julian admits work quite well.

In this AU Asra grew up in foster care, so when he finally found his home in the shop he never thought about living anywhere else.

It’s stayed that way for years, sharing a two bedroom flat above the shop with MC, its cluttered at times, filled with secondhand belongings but Asra loves having his own space and own things.

And he so loves taking his little holidays out of the city, bringing back more trinkets that bring good luck and fortune.

Asra always wears sneakers or trainers on his feet, mainly because all he does is walk in the city.

Although he does have a painted van for the shop deliveries; he and MC spent a week painting a swirling pattern on its sides.

His wardrobe is all tees with faded logos and cotton pants but on the rare occasion he decides to dress up Asra has an impossibly colourful blouse and faded jeans he loves to wear.

And there are so many hats! Vesuvia is sunny but he has more hats than he needs, although it's nice to have one for any occasion.

Also has crocs, they are an abomination of pink.

Asra’s phone of choice is an old samsung, he keeps meaning to update it but he’s a bit scared the photos on it will get lost.

Asra and technology don’t always mix well, for some reason...

Even in this universe Asra wouldn’t be Asra if he didn’t have Faust, a mischievous lavender python who always seems to escape her vivarium and ends up in Asra’s camera bag.

When Asra picked her out at the pets store he was told he was the only person she had ever not bitten or squeezed. Asra believes in fate, so he took her back home with him and the two are inseparable.

Asra oh so loves music, and just about any kind of tune can be found on his mp3 however he soon found his favourite to be the chillhop tunes the cafe played everyday. They really relax him.

The biggest Disney fan when he was younger, Asra then slowly decided Dreamworks were better but his favourite movies are those from Studio Ghibli. Asra simply adores the art, the music and the stories.

As mentioned Asra loves photography but he also quickly discovered watercolour paint and he doesn’t claim to be good at it but he does love making little pieces of art for birthdays and Christmas.

Speaking of which Christmas is his favourite holiday.

Asra also dabbles in growing orchids, he's too successful and there are so many he and MC don’t know what to do with them!

Asra’s favourite hobby aside from photography is rollerblading. He’s pretty good at it, cruising through the streets and along the dockside of the city (he definitely dragged MC into trying it out).

Asra never really thought he’d be one to get a tattoo but after getting Faust he changed his mind, since then he has a gorgeous complicated tattoo of the little snake on his shoulder blade.

It was only after “The Event” that Asra got another one; MC’s favourite flower on his hip bone.

Nadia

Nadia Santrivia, she’s beautiful, generous and married one of the richest men in the city, for the most part she’s alright with that.

Although Nadia hasn’t always lived in Vesuvia she’s tuned into the city around her so well, she’s in her element and thriving.

Work doesn’t end, if there was ever a beginning to start with. It's one thing after another; approving designs, attending fancy dinners, opening a charity fundraiser. Life is busy for the CEO of Vesuvia Industries.

Nadia’s happy to run Lucio’s business, because she knows she can do good with it but she can get lonely. Thankfully she has several friends who she can rely on to cheer her on...

The most important thing is that she can be herself, her own person, being last in line for her parent’s business and overshadowed by several sisters Nadia needed an escape.

Vesuvia provided the opportunity.

Nadia’s apartment is sat above the clouds in the skyscraper of Vesuvia Industries, much the same as the other universe home and work go hand in hand when it comes to Nadia.

She’s not materialistic, her apartment is clean and open and perfect for yoga and other purposes that require open space. It's very new and high tech, the coffee machine is her favourite thing though.

The views of the sunrise over the bay are gorgeous.

Ashamed to admit she has tons of shoes.

It’s usually required of Nadia to have the suits and dresses befitting a woman of her status, so when the sun goes down or she has a day off Nadia looks like an entirely different person.

She’s no less stylish, but her airy blouse’s, ripped denim jeans, subtle leather jacket and ankle boots give her a whole different persona, and man does it make her look good on her motorcycle.

Yes a motorcycle, Nadia owns one. It comes out of her garage only once a month but when it does she turns heads.

The rest of the time Naida is pretty eco-friendly with an electric car the business made just for her in a deep shade of purple.

As the CEO of the company Nadia is expected to have the latest iPhone model, her phone is always ringing and if she weren’t so patient she’d probably hurl it off the skyscraper roof.

Nadia always wanted a pet but she could never figure out what kind, and one dropped into her lap literally. Turns out she’s an owl person, although Nadia would never consider Chandra a pet more a companion.

A skyscraper is no place for a semi-wild owl but Nadia is happy enough to make the trip to the stables outside of Vesuvia to see Chandra and give her toys. Such a change from the small owlet Nadia raised.

When it comes to music Nadia is very picky, she spent her childhood listening to her sister’s choice of music and certain songs just put her in a bad mood, except for jazz.

That music preference surprised her but as soon as she discovered Lucio didn’t like it she was hooked. She thought about learning the saxophone (not to annoy Lucio or anything, no definitely not...)

Nadia’s not a big movie watcher, although she is a big fan of disaster movies when the mood strikes (it's nice to think about more chaotic things happening than signing a stack of papers), mainly she only has time to watch tv shows.

Her favourite is the Walking Dead but MC has caught her watching ‘how its made’ shows too. Of course being an avid inventor Nadia would be enthralled by seeing how her car or coffee machine is put together.

Speaking of inventing, although Nadia always wanted to make it her job she’s only ever gotten to approve the inventions her company makes.

It's not entirely what she wanted but thankfully she has just enough time to squeeze in working on her little projects. Ones she hopes will help others one day.

Nadia’s found it super important in the big city to keep herself safe, between her hobbies of yoga, kung fu and fencing she’s a pretty formidable opponent. It’s saved her life more than she’ll ever admit.

Her other hobbies, to list a few are horse riding, polo, piano, swimming, wine tasting, and playing those arcade grabber machines (she has about 50 teddy bears and MC has about the same amount). Most of those hobbies began in her childhood.

Nadia likes to pretend she is above getting a tattoo but anyone who knows her well enough will reveal she has a owl shadow tattoo on her inner heel.

Julian

Poor Julian is the definition of a struggling city batchelor, and he certainly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Still the most well traveled of the group Julian spent his formative years abroad in the army as a field medic (where he met Lucio), now though he’s a lean mean crime fighting machine!

Well he’s a forensics doctor for the Vesuvia PD, but it still counts as being a crime fighter! He’s never really lost that dramatic flair that's for sure.

He’s been a bit of everything; medic and doctor, waiter, translator, actor, sailor, troublemaker and a fugitive (but that’s a story for another day).

But Vesuvia truly is his real home, a place he’s always come back to and where he’s made friends and family, enemies, lovers, and memories.

Sure he lives in the ‘bad part’ of town as Asra calls it, but Julian feels at home enough that it doesn’t bother him, that and he’s got Mazelinka to handle the riff raff.

The two of them share a two-storey house that sits next to his favourite bar, a bit too convenient for Maz’s liking. Despite that the place is cozy and old, all wood flooring and furniture that's been around longer than Julian’s lifetime, it’s filled with the scent of cooking and coffee and other than the box tv and Julian’s phone there's almost no modern technology.

Julian’s room has faded photos of his friends, and postcards from places he’s been too and a few posters of his favourite plays, as well as rough sketches tacked to the corkboard his desk is littered with papers and he even has an old school microscope.

In the mess of his room only Julian can find the thing that he’s looking for, he calls it an ‘organized mess’ when in reality it’s really just a mess.

Unfortunately this extends to his clothing choices too, Julian is terrible at laundry so there is no end to the stains on his mellow patterned tees and jeans, the only smart thing about his wardrobe are his boots and oxfords.

Quite true to form his black trench coat is a constant companion. He usually dresses like he’s in a black and white movie or like a scruffy doctor when he’s in his lab coat.

Still has an eye patch, his depth perception when crossing roads is not great... there are a lot of hospital bills.

Also the reason he doesn’t drive unless he can help it, Julian doesn’t own a car but he’s prone to borrowing one if he needs it (usually from Asra).

Julian is very much the guy on the subway who falls asleep on your shoulder because it's the only place his mind isn’t working overtime.

MC thinks it’s very cute.

Julian’s not really too fussed about his phone of choice, Samsung, Apple, so long as he can make calls and do google searches on symptoms of a flu he’s good. No matter how hard he tries his screen is always cracked.

People often point out the raven following Julian around, he’s not too sure if its the same one but Julian knows its his own fault feeding the scrawny thing when it landed on his window pane. Now it won’t leave him alone, Julian took to calling it Malak and he’s quite fond of the bird even if it likes to cackle for food outside his window at an ungodly hour in the morning.

Maz has threatened to cook Malak on more than one occasion.

Music is one of the few things that helps Julian focus, he’s not usually super into any particular artist or album but his main love is music from musicals and movie soundtracks, if he’s able to do so he’ll sing along.

Lead forensic doctor Valdemar finds it highly unprofessional when they are conducting autopsies.

Almost has no time to watch movies or tv but if you strapped Julian to a chair and put on Brooklyn 99 or any kind of superhero movie he might enjoy it just a little bit...

Honestly though those things are just background noise for him, Julian will put on the tv to keep himself occupied while he’s doing reports. But he loves comedy movies and shows, they might tear him away from his laptop just long enough that he gets a few good laughs.

However if Mazlinka gets the old camcorder out he’s all over watching old home videos of him and Portia and his old hound dog, he’s just so nostalgic sometimes.

Thinks learning counts as a hobby, Julian habitually grabs any book he can to read through so youtube is a miracle in his eyes. Free content, that he can listen to and learn from as well as visually see? Yes please.

Julian learned to play the fiddle when he was younger, for a time as a teen he even went street performing to earn money for Portia’s obsession with bracelet making. He doesn’t play it much anymore but he’ll give MC a tune anyday.

He’s also very invested in cocktail mixing, only thing he mixes is Salty Bitters, he’ll argue any day that the Salty Bitter counts as a cocktail.

Also very invested in his self sustaining bio-tank at work, the other officers are growing concerned about the leeches Julian likes to keep in it. They’re planning an intervention.

The only tattoo Julian had was one forcibly given during “The Event”, his ‘murderers mark’ on his hand. He’s really ashamed of it because it reminds him of the part he had in the disaster that befell Vesuvia.

Muriel

He definitely suits the other universe more, it's even harder to get away from people in this modern world.

But the start remains the same, he was lost and his only friend was Asra for a long time, until Lucio came along and tricked him into doing unspeakable things as a ‘bodyguard’ until he escaped.

People are unavoidable and Muriel keeps to himself during his job as a keeper for a local animal sanctuary, raising and re-releasing wildlife with other volunteers, he practically runs the place.

But the volunteers know not to bother him especially when he goes back to his house on the hill, to take care of his chickens before he vanishes like usual into his house.

No one knows much about him, and he prefers it like that.

Muriel’s home is simple and honestly built for one, there’s only one chair, only one pillow on the bed, only one set of cutlery, only one of everything. It leaks on occasion and always needs fixing, he’ll forgo sleep to fix things.

Who needs more than four hours of sleep anyway?

A lot of Muriel’s belongings are from garage sales, or picked up off the side of the road, not a lot of money goes toward his comfort Muriel prefers that the animals in the sanctuary have comfortable beds and good food.

Muriel’s clothes? He wears them till they die, an usually when he picks them up from a garage sale they’re already pretty close.

For that reason Muriel doesn’t have a specific choice of clothing, he owns jumpers, tees, denim jackets, flannels and whatever jeans and pants fit. He has one pair of khaki coloured boots that are surprisingly well maintained and usually wears a beanie or cattleman hat to hide his face.

Old pick up, old pick up, old pick up! Owns an old pick up truck he fixed up, it breaks down regularly and only plays radio but Inanna enjoys riding in the back. Muriel likes driving a lot on those country roads.

All that’s to be said about Muriel and his phone is this; he owns a nokia and has no intention of getting a smartphone. Ever.

His hands are a bit big for it though, he’s called MC and Julian accidently so many times... and he only usually text’s, so that's awkward.

Inanna is Muriel’s constant companion, and when they’re in the city man do the two of them turn heads. Inanna is a wolfdog in this universe and she definitely looks more wolf than dog.

But she really is a big sweetheart, Muriel raised her from a puppy after she was rejected and placed in a shelter, he knew a wolf dog would need some special attention to grow into a perfect companion rather than a dangerous animal.

Anyone can look at Muriel and instantly think he’s one of those people who would play country music, for the most part that’s true. He does play the guitar and can sing okay, he does like country but his real love of music comes from indie artists.

He can’t really explain it but the music gives him a sense of carelessness and hope he’s never known.

Doesn’t really watch tv or movies, Muriel is almost always too busy for that but he’s found it the strangest thing, Inanna likes watching tv...

After that he got drawn in by the documentaries about animals, he didn’t really realize that people did shows about the habitats and behaviours of animals but he finds himself entranced by it when he passes by.

He soon relented and sits on the floor with his arm draped over Inanna as they watch documentaries about wolves in Alaska.

With the amount of animals Muriel raises anyone would call it a job, Muriel however would argue it's a hobby for him. Sure waking up every hour in the night to feed raccoon babies isn’t ideal but it's never been anything short of joyous to watch them go back to the wild.

Muriel's other hobby centres around his guitar and learning songs to play to himself and maybe a certain person *cough* MC *cough*.

He’s also an avid baker, none of his meals are ready made. Leading on from that he forages for mushrooms, and herbs rather than buys them.

Muriel doesn’t have a tattoo, only his scars.

He thought about getting some but he doesn’t trust someone to touch him that way and also he’s not a big fan of needles.

Probably a good thing otherwise Inanna and all his chickens names would be on his arm.

Portia

Absolutely suits the modern life in this universe, Portia somehow finds the time to do everything, the bustling worker or the relaxed dreamer.

She’s almost everywhere in the city, doing everything at once; working at Vesuvia Industries, grabbing the sweetest iced tea at the cafe, exploring the corruption of downtown streets.

Portia is obsessed with knowing every inch of the city, and what goes on inside it because it's a very strange city with a stranger history.

Portia is a great and helpful assistant to Nadia, but she’s also hiding a lot including her identity as Pasha Devorak the reporter for Vesuvian Times.

She has as many curious secrets as the city.

Portia previously lived in a small studio flat however since working for Nadia she has been lucky enough to afford to rent out a small cottage outside the city. She loves it so much and other than being in an AU not much has changed between the two cottages.

It’s shielded by so many grand trees and a vivacious garden that it feels like her own little world, the inside of the cottage is filled with hand knitted blankets, painted glass figurines and the warm smell of baked goods.

Sometimes its a bigger place than Portia can manage by herself but she likes taking to fixing things as they come along, she definitely is a fan of the saying “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it!”

Her clothing choices are just so cute and by no means is she afraid of showing off her cottage core style; jumpers, skirts, vest tops, crop tops and patterned blouses look really good on her. Of course the garden requires the heavy duty stuff, sweatpants, a tattered tee and the old hoodie that refuses to die.

She’s not to much into heels even though she’s short, Portia prefers pumps and loafers because “comfort over beauty!” (although she would be pretty cute with or without).

Nadia finds Portia’s headstrong and optimism very amusing and definitely takes a few life lessons from Portia.

Who needs to drive? Portia doesn’t, she loves taking the bus or the train wherever she goes. That way she can bop her head to her tunes while watching the landscape go by, in a beautiful intricate place like Vesuvia it's important to take it all in.

That and everyone can agree that Portia behind the wheel of a vehicle is a disaster, she just gets so distracted.

Nadia has offered Portia a new phone many times but Portia is plenty happy enough with her older gen 6 iphone (because if she got a new one she’d have to get wireless headphones!) Also she’d feel bad for Siri.

Unfortunately Pepi the cat came from terrible circumstances, certain circumstances where Portia jumped of a bridge after witnessing someone chuck a mewling bag into the river.

But Portia is so thankful for her amazing kitten, the two of them protect each other. Though Pepi’s idea of protecting Portia is making sure the birds don’t feed from the feeder outside and meowing at the fridge when it’s too loud.

Portia’s music taste is disarming to those who don’t know her well, she is a huge fan of rock, any rock music just so long as it’s good and a classic (ACDC, Queen, etc...) she likes to think she is a connoisseur of rock.

Julian can not put into words how much he abhorred it when his little sister would blast that music to drown out his.

Portia will either watch every movie or show when it comes out or will binge watch a show or movie after forgetting it existed. There is no inbetween, but she loves media, consumes it even.

Detective shows and spy movies are her favourite but she’ll enjoy just about anything unless it's a musical she was forced to watch one too many times because of Julian.

Portia has so many hobbies, one would say too many but she digresses.

Of course gardening is at the top of her list, moreso because the garden always needs doing but she gets a great sense of pride growing her own food and Pepi loves chasing the spiders that hide in the strawberries.

Portia is also a very avid blogger, there is a lot of conspiracy theories on there but with a following of half the city it seems pretty popular.

In her downtime Portia is loves to relax with her favourite soft drink and beat V3suviaC0unt#1 ass on her games console, she finds the shrieking of her enemy to be great fun.Portia’s love of games however soon transpired to collecting action figures of her favourite game characters.

She is very protective of them.

Like Muriel, Portia also doesn’t have a tattoo. It’s not that she’s afraid of needles but she just hasn’t found a reasonably good design to get yet.

Lucio

Lucio is definitely the one out of the six who was made for the modern world, sure being a Count is cool and all but in this world he can have both power and freedom and not have to sit in every meeting called.

He’s never once taken anything seriously, Lucio’s power has been built on the backs of others without him ever having to raise a finger.

It’s happened everywhere he goes, in the army he sacrificed the good of his teammates to rise in the ranks, he forced the Asra’s parents to make him the best prosthetic arm in history, he codled up to an old dying man to get his business and when he found out that wasn’t for him Lucio pawned it off to his wife and rolled onto the next devious plan.

Lucio’s been an army man, a CEO, a crime lord and the cause of “The Event” but maybe one day he’ll rise above those defining moments and be greater (but that is a story for another day).

Of course Lucio did live with Nadia for a time, but when he made her CEO Lucio took to calling his mansion home, Nadia wasn’t a fan of the creepy vibe it gave off which is just as well because Lucio hosts a lot of unsavoury characters...

True to form each room in that place has only the most expensive belongings, every bed is king size and the garage is filled with gas guzzling monstrosities of cars. It’s not cluttered by any means, but it's gaudy and shows off his wealth.

The only place things seem normal is the kitchen, Lucio doesn’t spend much time in there but on the wall sits a board of old memories when he got along with the others, they didn’t always find him unbearable.

Lucio’s torn it down and put it up so many times already he can never make up his mind if he wants to keep it.

Only thing Lucio ever liked about running a company were the expensive suits he was told he had to wear at least that was a great improvement on his fashion sense. Of course he’s not always wearing suits sometimes he’ll just wear a dress shirt with one too many buttons undone and a pair of white chinos and trainers.

Sunglasses are a must, that, and a lint roller. The dogs shed a lot...

As mentioned before Lucio has a lot of very pricey cars, he is the product of what would happen in Portia was given a car, he’d get distracted and crash it into the back of another vehicle.

He’s lucky anyone will insure him and that he has so many cars.

Lucio tried to be different to the ‘normies’ by getting his company to make a phone suitable to his taste. A phone that had two charging ports (to charge it twice as fast) and a waterproof casing (that kept it a bit too dry and hot so it spontaneously combusted in his pocket).

Lucio now has the latest iPhone instead.

Owns a lot of pets, the exotic eels, macaques, cockatoo, etc... The same as he does in the normal universe, none of which are particularly nice and well behaved. He prefers his fur babies Mercedes and Melinchor.

They were two dogs he saw fighting in dog fights and he was in love instantly buying them and bringing them to live with him, chaos follows those two like a bad odour.

Lucio decided that to be the cool rich guy he needed to like cool music, for the longest time he spent his time listening to hip hop no one really ever notices that Lucio in fact hates hip hop, he much prefers pop music.

It's a secret he will take to his grave but MC has definitely heard him singing to Katy Perry’s ‘Firework’ in the shower.

Lucio is the biggest movie buff in Vesuvia, he’s definitely offended when no one invites him to premieres, which is why he’s done all he can to get into movies (with little avail). And he will watch anything and enjoy it, he is usually one of those people who don’t realize the book exists when such a movie is out.

But do you know what his favourite kind of movies are?

Romantic-comedies, or just anything that's classed as romance. Date nights with Lucio are pretty good but he cries a lot, poor guy.

Just don’t get started with Lucio and hobbies, if he’s tried something once he’ll make out he knows everything about it and even if he hasn’t tried it he’ll pretend he has. He’s forever speaking out of his a** but no one dares call him out on it.

That being said Lucio really doesn’t have the capability to commit to a hobby, unless parties count? They don’t? They should!

Although one could say maybe planning parties does count...

Tattoos? Lucio has a few; his army number on the back of his neck, a sword piercing a heart on his chest and the twin silhouettes of the dogs running on the heel of his foot.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Kiro’s R&S - Youthhood (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (少年时代) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN🍒

Cancelled Kiro’s R&S:

> top experimental subject (by another user)

> stunning young idol

> youthhood ♡

> heaven’s home for children (by another user)

[ Chapter 1]

Kiro sits on the highest flight of steps of TKTS. With the scorching sun directly overhead, he’s queuing to purchase discounted tickets to “Wicked” with Pei En.

TKTS, which sells discounted tickets, is located in the bustling Times Square in New York, USA. Behind it is the NASDAQ screen, and on both sides are shops selling Disney products and all sorts of fast fashion brands. The buildings in front and in the surroundings have gigantic, neat and pretty advertisements.

Among them, a gigantic “The Avengers” poster above the subway is the most attention grabbing.

This is a representation of the era. It’s a symbol of the 20th century, and is also similar to the cyberpunk world of “Blade Runner”.

“I’ve got the tickets!”

Pei En waves the two tickets to “Wicked” in his hand. Pei En is the guitarist in his band. Kiro’s agency formed a band for him, and most of the band members are French locals. Only Pei En is of mixed blood like Kiro - a child from a Jew and an Asian.

“If the performance had gone smoothly, we would have reached earlier!”

They have a final performance in New York as part of their tour, and would have to leave after, rushing to Los Angeles, California.

“This time, I’m going to hide the donuts in an even more secret location so the person who inspects the tickets wouldn’t discover them!”

While Kiro says this, he finishes the donut in his hand.

Donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts are very sticky. Only Kiro can treat such things as delicacies.

His ringtone sounds. With a glance at the number on the screen, he hangs up immediately. Pei En is very curious to know who the caller is. He has expressed curiosity regarding everything involving Kiro, and Kiro knows why.

“Is it that fellow Lawrence again?” Pei En asks. Lawrence is the agent of their band.

“Nope, but it’s definitely a harassment call.”

“It should be.”

Pei En seems to be a carbon copy of Kiro. Aside from his hair not being golden coloured, he is extremely similar to Kiro in terms of bubbliness and openness, and how simple-minded he is. 

-

[ Chapter 2 ]

After purchasing the tickets, both of them return to the agency. Lawrence is at the side, looking through the program booklet for their performance tonight. Lawrence is overwhelmingly ambitious. He won’t give up until he bags a Grammy Award for the band.

“Did you know? Another group of strange people came to look for you again.”

The moment Lawrence sees Kiro, he pulls the latter to a corner. Pei En curiously watches on.

“What kind of people did you provoke? They look like they shouldn’t be trifled with.”

Kiro shakes his head. “What do you mean by ‘they’? Fans?”

When Lawrence sees the innocent and harmless expression on Kiro’s face again, he knows that his questions wouldn’t get him anywhere. Kiro always manages to find ways to conceal himself.

“How’s the preparation for the concert? You’re the lead singer, and all the girls are flocking here for you!”

“I’ll definitely perform even better than usual!”

Kiro looks to be full of zest and in high spirits. He genuinely loves being on stage, and loves how he radiates brilliance. Who doesn’t like seeing fans go into a frenzy over them and be captivated by them? It enables Kiro to fully feel that he is still living on this earth. And that on this earth, there are still so many people who like him...

“I’m guessing you went to buy a souvenir again today.”

Lawrence comes to such a conclusion after glancing at Kiro’s bag. Kiro has a hobby - to buy some souvenirs wherever he goes, whenever convenient.

From Paris to Munich, Zurich to Stockholm, Vancouver to Montreal - wherever he goes on tour, he would buy local fridge magnets and postcards, and he would always buy two sets.

He wants to collect these things, so if a day comes when he can meet her again, he would show them to her, and say:

“Look! This world is so beautiful, and you no longer have to be afraid.”

But till now, he has yet to find her. He remembers her eyes. One day, he will find her in a vast sea of people. 

“Did you know that the agency from China has sent someone to negotiate with us? They want you to sign on with them, and the amount they’re giving you is basically--”

Lawrence’s tone is exaggerated. “How are people in China so wealthy!”

“What if I said that I wanted to go to China?”

“Hey, buddy, the band can’t do without you.”

“Haha, Pei En is much more outstanding than I am.”

At this point, Pei En is still watching them. Kiro understands him too well. He’s much too curious. Also, he’s only curious about Kiro, which could very quickly expose Kiro’s hidden identity.

Did that group of people actually send Pei En to monitor him...

He kind of underestimates Pei En though.

“But that fellow is always so absent-minded. God knows what he’s thinking about.”

-

[ Chapter Three ]

Americans enjoy overstating things. At one moment, they go “only God knows...”, and at another moment, they go “for the sake of God...”. Some people can’t stand it, but Kiro finds it very interesting.

Very quickly, Kiro begins rehearsing with the band. His style of singing changes a lot. When they were in Europe, they mostly played rock music. When they reached America, they started playing country or jazz music.

Kiro likes the southern accent of the keyboardist from California. But Lawrence prohibits it. “The southern accent is the most crude and coarse form of English! Why can’t you learn the way the British speak?”

Lawrence has always favoured people who can speak eloquent British English - to him, only such people are refined and elegant. But Kiro grew up in France. When he first started learning English, he tended to pronounce “ch” as “sh”. Actually, French is genuinely elegant and pleasant to listen to. And English tinged with a slight French accent can make one absorbed in it.

-

The concert ended smoothly.

The fans are cheering in a frenzy outside, wanting them to perform one more song. But the agent has already told them to leave.

Pei En and Kiro take a car and rush to the theatre to watch “Wicked”. This is the final Broadway show they want to watch, and it was a shame that Kiro didn't get to watch the well-known Hamilton.

At the entrance, that group of fellows stopped him again. 

The person standing at the forefront is a Caucasian woman. She walks up to Kiro elegantly and greets him, signalling for the person next to her to bring Pei En away.

“I’ve already given you a response through e-mail, and I hope you won’t disturb me again.”

The Caucasian woman proceeds as usual, showing him an FBI ID.

Kiro grumbles in his heart.

“I swear I won’t disclose the contents of ‘The Avengers’. Even though I’ve already watched it on my laptop, I’ll definitely watch it again in the cinema!”

The Caucasian woman laughs.

“Mr Kiro, you’re very humorous. Even though we know that apart from Disney, you’ve also hacked into Universal Studios and Paramount Pictures, we’re not here to talk about this.”

She continues: “KEY - that’s you, isn’t it?”

-

[ Chapter 4 ]

Kiro doesn’t respond, his eyes widening as he glances around. 

“In order to track down your IP address, we had to destroy four computers.”

“Are you looking for me to make compensation for the computers?”

“Mr Kiro. Ten years ago, you expended no effort to hack into our computers, and left behind a string of mysterious characters.”

The Caucasian woman smiles at him amiably. Kiro’s expression grows serious. Ten years ago, that KEY who hacked into their organisation wasn’t him...

“Ten years later, you’re back again. I think you're trying to provoke us.”

“I don’t have such an intention.”

“Whether or not you do, we can’t let you continue this way. Mr Kiro, this is a serious issue. We are now sending you a sincere invitation, and we hope to work together to do more noble things.”

Kiro is silent. He had previously found a clue leading to his own master. Finding out that he had entered the American FBI website and left behind a series of symbols - he thinks this is message to him from his master. As such, he entered it as well, and found that series of symbols, but until now hasn’t been able to decipher it.

It’s a series of very strange symbols, reminiscent of a new language formed using Latin and Roman symbols. He managed to decipher it a little, and it appears that the series of symbols seem to be pointing him to a location.

And the FBI had found him quickly, sending him an e-mail. It was a solemn reminder that if he was unwilling to be enlisted by them, he would lose his rights to use a computer forever.

“You’ve stated these things clearly in the e-mail, and I’ve already replied.”

“I don't think you have considered the severity of this matter. Mr Kiro, we can detain you.”

"In that case, I’ll just sing in jail then!”

Seeing the displeased look on the Caucasian woman’s face, Kiro continues smiling simple-mindedly.

“I hope you wouldn’t regret this in the future.” The Caucasian woman leaves a final statement that is often found in a script for a classic villain. She leaves with the large group of people. 

Pei En walks over frantically, and Kiro walks towards him as well.

“Tell them that I’ve met with some trouble, and will need to leave America immediately.”

Pei En pretends to be puzzled.

“You understand the meaning in my words, don’t you?”

For the first time, Kiro looks at him seriously. During serious moments, he doesn’t smile. 

“Where do you plan to go? We can send you to Russia.”

Pei En is no longer smiling. His expression changes, along with his entire aura.

As expected, Pei En is much too similar to him. If Kiro were to leave the band, Pei En could take over his position as the lead singer, and that group of people had considered this fact too.

-

[ Chapter 5 ]

The face of the little girl surfaces in Kiro’s mind again. 

The girl is lying with him, and is all smiles as she looks at him.

“Don’t be afraid. When I’m out, I’ll buy you donuts, okay?”

The girl draws the shape of a donut in the air.

Back then, Kiro didn’t speak. He just stared at the ceiling in a dazed state.

“Don’t worry that I won’t have enough money. My dad will give it to me.”

Kiro remains wordless, quietly listening to the little girl speak.

The little girl struggles to pull on his hand.

Their fingers lace together, the warmth from her palm gradually coursing into Kiro’s heart.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”

Kiro turns to look at her - to look at her determined brown eyes, to look at how the corners of her lips angle upwards. Kiro slowly learns how to curl the corners of his lips from her. It’s the first smile to appear on his face. 

Suddenly, the door is flung open. A group of people wearing doctor’s coats enter and drag him away. The little girl watches him in a daze, and he stares back at her. They agreed to go out to have donuts - can they still eat them?

-

“I want to return to China.”

Pei En shakes his head, alarm in his eyes. “Why? There’s so much freedom here, and I’m the only one who monitors you. And I’m inclined to trust you more now. You won’t betray us.”

“No... I still want to go back.”

Not just for the little girl. The symbols left behind by his master seem to point to a certain location in China... Where exactly is it? And why did he leave the symbols with the FBI? Could it be the place he’s hiding at right now?

No matter what, he wants to solve this riddle.

“All right. I’ll handle it for you as soon as I can. I think you’d have to use a false identity this time.”

“As long as everything goes smoothly, it’s fine.”

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing they can’t do.”

He wants to wait till he returns to China before telling Lawrence about what happened. Lawrence will definitely be extremely frantic. After all, he’s been following Kiro ever since he debuted in France.

And Pei En will definitely be happy. He can finally take over Kiro and become the favourite member of the group, and obtain love from the fans.

Kiro is someone who doesn’t lack love. But he always subconsciously wishes that he could obtain even more love. More and more...

-

[ Chapter 6 ]

Before Kiro retuned, Pei En gave him materials pertaining to the agency in China.

“Your agent is called Savin. He doesn’t seem as eager for instant success and quick profits as Lawrence. Mr Savin is a very amiable person, and you should be very happy interacting with him.”

“Is he one of your people?”

“I don’t know.”

“You really don’t know?”

Pei En shakes his head. “I rank too low, so I don’t have the right to ask. I’m just an elementary spy.”

Kiro nods, taking his luggage and preparing to leave. He’ll set things straight eventually.

“Kiro, I don’t think you’re transparent. They say that what’s in your heart is easy to guess, which is why they put me by your side. But I think they have underestimated you.”

Kiro looks at Pei En’s troubled eyes, then showcases his signature sunny smile.

“How can that be? Do you want a postcard? When I get to China, I’ll mail you one. I also want to mail them to Lawrence and the members from the band. Treat it as an apology.”

Like Kiro, Pei En showcases a sunny smile. “In that case, we’ll wait for your news. You’ll definitely be at the height of popularity in China.”

“Let’s work hard together.”

“Yes!”

After parting with Pei En, who has been with together with him from morning to night for so long, Kiro lifts his luggage and embarks on an unknown journey. 

As what Pei En said, he isn’t transparent. His brilliant smile conceals something underneath, just as the brilliant sun shrouds darkness underneath.

Hidden in the depths of his secrets are things even darkness doesn’t know of. If darkness had a mind of its own, it might think it doesn’t fit with this pure and simple youth.

Just as how everyone think he’s a simple, innocent Kiro, the sunlight casted on him can pierce through him completely, the rays of light refracting onto the floor. 

Actually, since a very long time ago, he was no longer a youth...

But, for her sake, he's willing to become a youth again.

“Don’t be afraid, I’ll protect you.”

He once again recalls what the girl said to him.

“This time, I’ll be the one protecting you.” Kiro says excitedly. He stands outside the JFK Airport, his eyes staring directly at the sun.

“I’ll find you, and protect you. I even have a mountain of souvenirs stored in my luggage. I’ll give them all to you. And my purest heart - I’ll give it to you too!”

-

Other cancelled R&S: here

[scxrsgxrd]

Remedy // Gordon Merkel

Part Three

Part one here

Part two here

Part four here

Part five here

Hello my lovelies! Thank you so much to anyone reading this series, it means so much that people are enjoying it :’) and I hope you all enjoy this part just as much!

WARNINGS: 18+ mature language, mentions of blood, alcohol, smoking and female sex work.

Merkel lay awake for the rest of the night, not willing to let himself fall back into a slumber and relive the same nightmare. When it was finally an acceptable hour for him to make his way out if bed, he rose up slowly and walked over to the sink in the corner of the room to splash his face with cold water, sighing at the refreshing feeling. 

“Merkel?” He heard a small voice mumble from the bed.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He wiped over his face with a towel before making his way back to the bed and perching on the edge.

“You.. you stayed?” Her voice beamed as her eyes seemed to sparkle, he’d never actually stayed the night before, no matter what ungodly hour they’d finished with their business, he’d always leave.

He nodded, brushing her knotted hair off her face and planting a light kiss on her nose, this small show of affection seemed to make her beam even more.

“Let’s go out for breakfast, I know a little place that does the best pancakes-”

Merkel internally cursed as he brought himself to interrupt her.

“No, its,” he cleared his throat, knowing to choose his next words wisely. “It’s not good if we’re seen out together.”

The light in her eyes disappeared suddenly and her lips turned into a pout, Merkel braced himself.

“You’re married, aren’t you? I knew it. I fucking knew you were just like the rest of those scumbags.” She snarled, grabbing his left hand as though to check for a ring.

He cringed slightly, retracting his hand as he felt himself disappear within his mind, old memories flooding back to him about his previous life, about Klara. From his almost catatonic state he noticed her eyes focus on the chain around his neck which had begun to poke out from behind his button down shirt, and most particularly, the ring attached to it.

Shit.

“You, my friend, have some goddamn explaining to do.” Her tone was still the same, and her arms were tightly folded across her chest as she studied him, waiting for an other-worldly lie to leave his mouth.

“What’s your name? Your real name?.” He sighed, he was in too deep to hit her with a bullshit excuse, she deserved better.

“I really don’t see how that’s relevant.” There was a clear air of defiance in her voice, and Merkel could feel his head begin to throb.

“If you want answers, then I want to know who exactly I’m giving them to.”

“Anna.” Her reply was hesitant, she was wary as she had been told countless times the risks of revealing her real name, but she trusted Merkel, she really trusted him.

“Anna.” He mused over her name, a small smile tugging at his lips, which then quickly faded when he realised that she was still deeply, deeply unimpressed with him.

“I gave you my name, I want answers.” 

Merkel breathed out deeply, twirling the ring on the chain around his neck as he tried to string together a worthy explanation.

“I was married.” Was all he managed to come up with, which did nothing to soften the frown on Anna’s lips.

“The fact that you still have the ring tells me you either had a very amicable separation, or you’re still bullshitting me. My money’s on the latter.” She was almost snarling at him. This was a man she’d trusted, a man she’d thought was different. She felt as though her naivety was laughable.

“Our separation was.. different.” He swallowed harshly as he felt his throat tighten. It had been five years since he’d spoken about Klara, and the pain was still raw. 

“Different?” Anna scoffed, not registering the pain in Merkel’s eyes as he continued to twirl his long fingers around the ring. “That still doesn’t explain why we can’t go out in public together.”

“Anna, please. Just this once, will you take my word for it? I don’t want to talk on the matter anymore.” He lifted his hand to place it on her cheek, but she pulled back, her eyebrows were furrowed as she studied him for a few seconds.

“Get out.” Anna’s voice was barely a whisper, but he knew she meant it, and he was in no mood to argue. He huffed lightly before standing up and picking up his coat, brushing it off and walking over to her door. He made sure to slam it on his way out.

-

He knew something wasn’t right when he entered his apartment. The suitcase he’d left at the door to unpack had disappeared. He instinctively grabbed the nearest sharp object he could find and slowly made his way over to his bedroom, kicking the door open and flinging himself in to face the intruder.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.” 

“Helene?” His voice sounded startled, much to her delight as she set herself down onto his bed with the photo album she had been occupying herself with. The look in his eyes was the one she craved most; the fear alarm that was triggered by her presence was almost intoxicating to her.

“Yes, darling, don’t sound so surprised. You really thought I didn’t know exactly where you lived?” She laughed, removing her blazer and laying it down carefully on the bed before flicking through the album in front of her.

“Ah, such a shame you never invited me to your wedding. The weather was amazing, oh and Klara, how beautiful she looked.” Helene set her eyes on him, hungry for his reaction, he knew this. He forcibly smiled, his hand clutching the small knife so tightly that he felt the skin break and a warm trickle make it’s way down his wrist.

“Why have you come?” Merkel’s words were choked, his lips pursed and his eyes flaming. He grabbed the photo album and threw it across the room, his contempt for the woman sat in front of him was almost palpable.

“Didn’t you read the postcard? I said I’d have your assignment to you in the next few days.” Helene rose to her feet and walked in a slow circle around Merkel, her red Louboutin heels clacking against the hardwood floor as she lay a hand on his shoulder, tutting as she felt him tense immediately.

“Relax, darling.” She drawled, moving her fingers down his arm slowly before opening his clenched fist and removing the knife, a small chuckle leaving her as she inspected it.

“Just tell me what the job is, Helene.” Merkel spat, shrugging her off and taking a few steps back as he visibly shuddered.

She smiled. “Always so eager.”

“You need to intercept and eliminate Alexei Yelenova. The details of his residence are on a postcard underneath your pillow.” She smiled once more, but this smile faded when Merkel burst into a fit of laughter.

“Alexei Yelenova? You mean the KGB general stationed in Berlin?” He wiped a tear from his left eye and laughed once more.

“The very same.” Her tone was grave, and she lunged forward to grab onto his face, her long nails piercing his cheeks as she stared into his eyes.

“I like you, Merkel. I like you because you don’t question me, you wouldn’t want to change that.” She sneered and tightened her grip for a few seconds before pushing him away from her and grabbing onto her blazer.

“I’ll show myself out.”

He dove under his pillow once she left and produced the postcard, on it was a large villa which he immediately recognised. The same place all the high profile shitbags had their debauched parties. He flipped it over and sighed as he scanned over the message Helene had left.

Be here in two days time. Don’t be late and don’t disappoint me. Much love, H.

Several cigarettes and large whiskies later, Merkel began to pack for his short trip away to Alexei Yelenova’s villa.

-

Anna sat alone at the bar as she fiddled with the straw in her cocktail. She thought the bright colours and paper umbrella might cheer her up, but instead she felt worse. She tapped her fingernails on the glass as she went over her earlier conversation with Merkel for the thousandth time, how dismissive he had been about his marriage and his reluctance to open up to her. 

“Anna?” Her thoughts were interrupted by a surprised voice and a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she turned herself around to see Irina stood before her, who pulled her into a tight embrace.

Irina was one of the first friends Anna had made when she had first started her work, and they had been roommates until Irina had moved across Berlin in search of more high profile clients a few months prior.

“Irina? What are you doing back here?” Anna asked as her friend sat on the stool next to her, her eyes glimmering with excitement as she set her bag down.

“I have news.” She almost shrieked as Anna tried her best to shush her, but she was almost trembling with anticipation.

Anna didn’t have time to ask what the news was before Irina blurted it out.

“A man I’ve been working for, he’s having a huge party in two days. He wants me to bring more girls, and you look like you need a good time.” She grinned as she nudged Anna’s arm. Irina had never been one to shy away from a party, she was a free spirit who was, by definition, the life of the party.

“I don’t know, Irina. You know that’s not really my thing.” Anna responded, earning a rather intense eye roll from Irina.

“I’ll be there, and I’ll take care of you. All you have to do is be there and have a good time, he likes to have a lot of people around to take attention away from his meetings with colleagues.” She lowered her voice as she finished the sentence, looking around her shoulder as though to check that nobody was listening.

“Fine, Irina, I’ll come. Who’s the man throwing the party?” Anna asked before taking a large sip of her cocktail.

“Alexei Yelenova.”

Tags: @roman-cek @lucifer-reads @billofourtime @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @ill-skillsgard @skrsgardspam @theskarsgardcult @bskarsgardlove92 @dreamtherapy

If anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know :)

[murderballadeer]

1,2,3,6 🌟

hi!!

1 - describe your dream house. my dream house would be on the small side without being cramped and have a lot of natural light. it would be a fairly old building, but in good condition. it would have a nice backyard with room for both a flower garden and a vegetable garden, and at least one tree to sit under. it would have at least one bay window so i could have a window seat as a reading nook. i would also like a front porch so i can sit in a rocking chair and watch the world go by like an old man in a movie.

of course there would have to be a nice kitchen, with walls painted yellow and a window above the sink so i can look outside while doing dishes. a dining room seems old fashioned and unnecessary, so the kitchen would also have a dining table in it. oh and nice kitchenware, of course. 

the living room would of course have lots of places to sit, probably a couch and a few armchairs and ottomans and whatnot. also a decent quality sound system because in an ideal world i would just have music on constantly. i would have lots of art and postcards and photographs on the walls – things people i know have drawn, maybe, or just things i accumulate. i grew up in a house with a piano in the living and that definitely appeals to me, so i think there would be one in my dream house as well. also, ideally this would be an older building with the original moldings still intact, so this room wouldn’t be painted any special colour (just white or cream) so that those can shine.

there would be a cozy guest room so friends and relatives can stay over, with a cheerful patchwork quilt on the bed fresh flowers on the bedside table, because it can’t be a dream house if the people i love don’t feel at home there. the walls would be painted a soft, relaxing color, like maybe a silvery green, and i would put a shelf full of books in there so nobody gets bored.

the bedroom would be big enough to have room for a desk and all that and also have a lot of natural light so i can have plants in there. i actually really like the color of the walls in my current bedroom (spring green), so i see no reason to change that. i would like a bigger bulletin board to put stuff on as well.

 finally, i would have a sewing room (with space for cutting table, sewing machine, dress form and of course my fabric stash!) and a library with some cozy armchairs and one of those sliding ladder things, and it wouldn’t be complete without a friendly cat or two!

2 - what's your top 5 songs at the moment and why? 

1. “bound for glory” by phil ochs

idk i just think it’s a really beautiful song – the perfect tribute to woody guthrie. oh and it vindicates my being annoyed at people willfully misinterpreting “this land is your land” when it says “why sing the songs and forget  about the aim/he wrote them for a reason let us sing them for the same”

2. “any old wind that blows” by johnny cash

i know i’ve been screaming about this song for weeks now but it’s just [screams]. i love it so much – the lyrics, the music, his voice, everything.

3. “those three are on my mind” by pete seeger

i just. idk, it makes me emotional. not sure what it is but every single time when he gets to “but i’m grieving yet/and for some the sky is bright/i cannot give up hoping for a morning light” and also “i know of tom paine’s watered tree/i know the price of liberty/now i ask the question that is deep inside of me/did they also burn the courthouse when they killed those three?” it just. Gets Me, yknow? there’s also an absolutely beautiful cover by harry belafonte which you can find here.

4. “northwest passage” by stan rogers

i just. the incredible Vibes of this song. absolutely iconic. i have a very clear memory of being maybe six years old and sitting on the floor in the living room while the radio was on, and this song came on (bc yknow it’s the cbc. they’re gonna play stan rogers, it’s unavoidable) and i just sat there absolutely transfixed. that’s how i feel whenever i listen to it even now, some 12 years later.

5. “i ain’t marchin’ anymore” by phil ochs

this one is mainly here bc i’m learning to play it on the ukulele so i’ve hhad it on the brain lately lol.

3 - what's your favourite memory from school? the general vibe before and during a band concert! showing up at school long after most people had left, practicing everything one last time, the way the air was always electric with excitement, just everything. i miss it so much.

6 - describe one of your favourite people. my aunt is one of my favourite people! we’ve been really close my entire life, and she’s just so smart and fun to talk to. we can spend hours just talking about basically nothing. she’s the one who taught me to cook and also has had a huge influence on the kind of music and books i like – she gave me some books that have had a big impact on me, notably one hundred years of solitude and the works of edgar allan poe, and like. she’s got an oil painting of woody guthrie in her living room, so that should be enough to show how she influenced my music taste lol. but also she’s always treated me like someone whose opinions are worth listening to, even when i was really young, and i think that has really helped me have confidence in my own ideas. she’s the kind of person who fully understands that a child is still a person, and more recently she’s taken an interest in the kind of things i talk about, doing things like looking up musicians i’ve said i like and reading books i recommend so we can talk about them together. i’m just so lucky to have her in my life.

thank you!!

(long answer asks)

[sixam-skies]

The Extended Not So Berry Challenge

Here is the complete list of generations for my extended version of the Not So Berry challenge. This challenge consists of the 10 generations of the Not So Berry challenge by @lilsimsie and @alwaysimming, with a few extra skill and collection goals added, followed by the 11 generations of the Road Less Travelled challenge (created by myself (originally camisimblr)​ with help from Briar, Hope, and Fiona).

Generation One: Mint You’re a mischievous scientist that really loves the colour mint. You’re career driven but still make time for silly pranks and outings with your closest friends. You love luxury and want the best for yourself and your family.

Traits: Vegetarian, Jealous, Materialistic Aspiration: Chief of Mischief Career: Scientist

Goals: - Master scientist career and complete Chief of Mischief aspiration - Master mischief and logic skills - Complete elements, crystals, and metals collections

Generation Two: Rose You had everything you desired as a child, but you were always longing for more. As an adult you have a hard time committing to relationships as you’re so focused on your career. If we had a workaholic trait in The Sims 4 you would have it. You have absolutely no maternal instincts whatsoever, but you still love your child with all your heart.

Traits: Hot Headed, Snob, Romantic Aspiration: Serial Romantic Career: Politician

Goals: - Have only one child - Master the politician career and complete Serial Romantic aspiration - Master charisma skill - Leave someone at the alter (an interaction available during a wedding) - Get married for the first time as an elder

Generation Three: Yellow Growing up you never had a close relationship with your mother and spent the majority of your time alone in your room obsessing over space. You just really love space. You’ll do whatever it takes to get to Sixam no matter the cost.

Traits: Clumsy, Ambitious, Loner Aspiration: Nerd Brain Career: Astronaut

Goals: - Master rocket science and handiness skill - Master astronaut career and complete Nerd Brain aspiration - Must build a rocket ship and visit Sixam - Enter the secret lot in Oasis Springs (requiring max handiness) - Never have any close friends or relationships other than grandparent from Generation 1 until the grandparent dies - Complete space rocks, space prints, and aliens collections

Generation Four: Grey You always felt that you were different. While the rest of your family was busy messing around in the lab, you just wanted to be outside playing basketball. You’re very good at sports and you dream of becoming a professional athlete. To make up for your non-existent relationship with your parents you want to be there for your own children as much as possible. Oh, and you love to sing.

Traits: Active, Slob, Music Lover Aspiration: Bodybuilder Career: Athlete

Goals: - Master singing, parenting, and athletic skills - Master athlete career and complete Bodybuilder aspiration - Have three failed relationships before finding spouse, marry a neat Sim - Be good friends with all of your children - Have family movie night with your spouse and children every Sunday

Generation Five: Plum You’ve always been good at anything you tried. It’s hard to choose a career, so why not try a few? You work as a doctor for much of your life, but as an adult realize that your true dream is to become a professional dancer. You quit your job and join the entertainer career. Basically: you’re an indecisive oddball.

Traits: Genius, Noncommittal, Dance Machine Aspiration: Renaissance Sim Career: Fast Food, Doctor, Entertainer

Goals: - Master dance and two other skills of your choosing, achieve at least level eight in six skills - Complete Renaissance Sim aspiration - Get divorced and then later remarried to the same Sim - Must live in at least three different worlds over the course of your life

Generation Six: Orange You’re the black sheep of your family (but with orange hair) and you were raised in a hectic household. You’ve always wanted to cause mayhem, but you’re just really bad at being evil. You enjoy breaking into your neighbors’ houses and eating their food. You really love baking and spend the majority of your spare time eating sweets.

Traits: Evil, Self-Assured, Glutton Aspiration: Public Enemy Career: Criminal

Goals: - Master baking and charisma skills - Master criminal career and complete Public Enemy aspiration - Must live in a ‘needs TLC’ apartment for entire young adult life - Have twins, but only those two children (you may cheat for this). - Insist on being evil (claim to be criminal mastermind) but nobody believes you, not even your own children

Generation Seven: Pink You grew up poor and are living paycheck to paycheck working in the business career just as your parents did. You long to write romance novels but are too afraid to quit your steady job to follow your dreams. You’re very practical and you know the chances of making it as a writer are slim, so you stay working at your nine to five. As an adult you finally decide to pursue your dreams. You’re a hopeless romantic, but your unflirty nature makes it nearly impossible to find love.

Traits: Neat, Unflirty, Creative Aspiration: Best Selling Author Career: Business

Goals: - Complete postcard collection - Master writing and wellness skills - Complete Best-Selling Author aspiration - Have a well-maintained garden - Quit day job as an adult to pursue dreams (mid-life crisis much?)

Generation Eight: Peach Your mother always taught her to follow her dreams. You’ve always wanted to be a detective. You’ve always wanted to be a comedian. Well dang it, you can do both! Detective by day, comedian by night, you can do anything you set your mind to.

Traits: Foodie, Lazy, Goofball Aspiration: Joke Star Career: Detective

Goals: - Marry a co-worker - Must play an instrument - Master gourmet cooking and comedy skills - Master detective career - Must live in a different world than the one he/she was raised

Generation Nine: Green You were caught hacking by a major tech company that then offered you a position in their firm. You know Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds? That’s you. You’re dedicated to your work, but that doesn’t stop you from going out and having a good time. You’re the kind of person that will be at a party at 3am and then at work at 6am.

Traits: Squeamish, Geek, Cheerful Aspiration: Computer Whiz Career: Tech Guru

Goals: - Master mixology, video gaming, and programming skills - Master tech guru career and complete Computer Whiz aspiration - Must accept every invitation to parties/outings with your friends - Have at least five good friends and five enemies - Complete Voidcritters collection

Generation Ten: Blue You have the perfect life. White picket fence, loving spouse, beautiful children. But why do you still want more? You have a one-time secret affair and will regret it for the rest of your life. Afterward you pour your soul into raising your children and fixing your marriage. You never admit the affair to anyone and dedicate your life to being the perfect mother.

Traits: Gloomy, Perfectionist, Family Oriented Aspiration: Super Parent Career: Critic

Goals: - Adopt at least one child - Master the photography, cooking, and parenting skills - Master critic career and complete Super Parent aspiration - Must marry high school sweetheart and stay with them until you die - Have a one-time secret affair

Generation Eleven: Platinum You grew up in the perfect home, with a perfect childhood. What more could you want? Well, there’s fame, and money, and you’ll get both if you work hard… or marry rich.

Traits: Self-Absorbed, Insider, Materialistic Aspiration: Master Actor/Actress Career:  Actor/Actress

Goals: - Become a 5-star Celebrity - Marry a celebrity (3-star or higher) - Master acting and media production skill - Have either a Pristine or Atrocious reputation - Throw 5 successful Charity Benefits or 5 successful Lampoon Parties (depending on reputation)

Generation Twelve: Lilac As the child of famous parents your entire childhood was spent in the spotlight, wishing to be anywhere else, and you couldn’t get any further from the spotlight than Selvadorada.

Traits:  Loves Outdoors, Outgoing, Good Aspiration:  Jungle Explorer Career:  Writer (Journalism)

Goals: - Marry a Selvadoradian local - Master archaeology and Selvadoradian culture skills - Collect all Ancient Omiscan Artefacts and Omiscan Treasures - Explore the temple in Selvadorada three times. - See everything Selvadorada has to offer - Befriend a skeleton

Generation Thirteen: Copper Growing up with stories from your parent of exploring Selvadorada, you make it your mission to do some exploring of your own – by solving the mysteries of StrangerVille.

Traits: Paranoid, Noncommittal, Vegetarian Aspiration:  StrangerVille Mystery Career:  Military

Goals: - Become the Hero of StrangerVille - Befriend The Mother - Master fitness and charisma skills - Be enemies with at least 3 coworkers - Live underground as a Young Adult - Never have a serious relationship

Generation Fourteen: Turquoise Growing up with a paranoid parent is no easy feat, and you crave an easier, cruisier lifestyle. Nothing could be better than spending every day on the beautiful beaches of Sulani… if you can keep them beautiful.

Traits:  Outgoing, Child of the Islands, Bro Aspiration:  Beach Life Career:  Conservationist

Goals: - Move to Sulani as a Young Adult - Master Photography skill - Throw a beach party every weekend - Marry an island local - Befriend a dolphin - Complete seashells collection

Generation Fifteen: Red You love animals far more than you love people, so much so that you’ve decided to dedicate your life to your critter friends.

Traits:  Hates Children, Loves Cats, Loner Aspiration: Friend of the Animals Career:  Vet Clinic

Goals: - Open and run a successful Vet Clinic - Master veterinarian and pet training skills - Always have at least two pets in your household - Cook your pets a weekly meal - Have only one pregnancy, leave your partner to do the parenting

Generation Sixteen: Navy What’s more enthralling than the pursuit of medicine? The pursuit of magic! You want to be the most spectacular Spellcaster to ever live and nothing will get in your way.

Traits: Self-Assured, Erratic, Ambitious Aspiration:  Spellcraft & Sorcery Career:  Painter

Goals: - Become a Spellcaster - Master painting, gardening, and herbalism skills - Mix every type of potion successfully - Learn every spell - Defeat all 3 Sages in a Duel

Generation Seventeen: Black As the child of a Sage you’re no stranger to the supernatural, but a chance encounter with a dark, dangerous stranger has you chasing your humanity.

Traits: Clumsy, Music Lover, Squeamish Aspiration:  Good Vampire Career: Musician

Goals: - Become a Vampire as a Young Adult - Master vampiric lore, pipe organ, and guitar skills - Marry a human - Become human again before starting a family - Become a Grand Master Vampire

Generation Eighteen: Baby Blue Your parent overcome the greatest of obstacles to start their family, and it’s always inspired you to raise the perfect child. But every Stay-At-Home parent needs some me-time.

Traits:  Perfectionist, Family Oriented, Creative Aspiration: Big, Happy Family Career: None

Goals: - Raise a perfect child (Max toddler skills, max child skills, complete all childhood aspirations, have all 5 positive character values) - Marry a childhood BFF or high school sweetheart - Max painting and bowling skills - Max any skill that brings a profit - Bowl a perfect game

Generation Nineteen (Option 1): Emerald (UBrite) You were the perfect child, and now you’ll be the perfect student. You’re going to excel on whichever path your academic life takes, but which path will it be?

Traits: Bookworm, Genius, Outgoing Aspiration: Academic Career: Law

Goals: - Get a full ride of scholarships - Max research & debate skill - Graduate without failing a class - Major in a Distinguished Degree - Reach the highest rank in an Organisation - Win the Debate Showdown

Generation Nineteen (Option 2): Maroon (Foxbury) You were the perfect child, and now you’ll be the perfect student. You’re going to excel on whichever path your academic life takes, but which path will it be?

Traits: Bookworm, Genius, Outgoing Aspiration: Academic Career: Engineer

Goals: - Get a full ride of scholarships - Max robotics skill - Graduate without failing a class - Major in a Distinguished Degree - Reach the highest rank in an Organisation - Build a Servo

Generation Twenty: Honey Your parents spent their lives with their noses buried in their textbooks, but you want to live with the sun on your face and your most loyal companion by your side.

Traits: Loves Dogs, Loves the Outdoors, Good Aspiration: The Curator Career:  Gardener

Goals: - Live Off The Grid as a Young Adult - Max fishing, gardening, and flower arranging skills - Take your family camping every weekend - Always have a dog in your household - Complete the Fishing and Gardening collections

Bonus Generation: Fuschia You’ve lived most of your life in the peace of the woods, but long for the hustle and bustle of city life. You’ll find your place in the big city, and someone to share the view.

Traits: Art Lover, Foodie, Romantic Aspiration: City Native Career: Social Media

Goals: - Max charisma and comedy skills - Open a gallery to feature your photos - Accept every invitation for parties and events - Complete the City Posters collection - Marry a Sim with similar traits.

[writingsilly]

Underwater (ch. I)

Description: Your bad behaviour led you to stay the whole summer in your town of birth with your grandfather. The very first day, you went for a walk to the beach and had an encounter with a stranger that would change your whole life.

Pairing: Reader x Merman!Taehyung.

Genre: Angst, suspense, sci-fi.

Trigger warnings (!!!): Blood, swearing, angst.

Click here to read in AO3!

I: An Encounter

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When you arrived, the guilt of having left so easily without putting up a fight or some resistance hit you right away deep in your chest. Maybe because in your way there, you started to miss the big city and wondered why you hadn’t been smarter and just behaved properly, that way your father wouldn’t have felt the need to “straighten you up.” It was a shame that his idea of turning you into someone a little more affectionate and sympathetic was to tear you apart from your friends and the city it had been your home since you were sixteen years old.

At first, you fought the tingly feeling that had set in the pit of your stomach when you recognized the salty aroma in the air and the warm breeze. The pride that came with your father putting your suitcases on the floor and leaving you without giving you a second glance was way too strong to ignore it. You couldn’t pretend you were surprised or hurt by his actions, he was mad anyway and it wasn’t something uncommon coming from him. Ever since he decided that dealing with your grandmother’s death was less important that work, his feelings kinda vanished. He still cared about you, that wasn’t the problem, but he sometimes needed to be reminded that raising a child, with no help at all also, was more than a lonely note stuck in the refrigerator saying “won’t be back ‘til late. Order some food.” But you couldn’t really complain, could you? You had the freedom every person your age dreamed of.

What dragged you back to your birth town, apart from a long trip by plane, wasn’t a poor attempt of calling his attention, as anyone might have concluded. This happened to you because you pushed the limits a little too much, it just got out of hand. What started with dipping your toe into what seemed like the perfect life, ended up with being suspended three times and eventually your expulsion. It was simple at first, skipping one period of History, to begin with. But that period turned into two and it all concluded with skipping weeks just so you could walk around the city with no destination at all. Sometimes your friends, Jungkook and Hoseok, would follow you. Other times, you would disappear for a good few hours. You were so used to being alone in your house, you might as well find a place that made you happy even in your isolation.

It took some time, but you finally found it enjoyable to be alone. When your friends couldn’t be there for you for whatever the reason was, you would take a random bus and get off somewhere you didn’t fully recognize. You would wander there and come back home really late, but not late enough for your father to notice that because he hadn’t come back from work yet. It wasn’t hard for him to notice that you weren’t doing good in school. A call from the principal and a miscalculation from you resulted into for father actually taking that call and a very long talk about your future, about how the last year of high school practically defines you and about the plans he had for you, great universities and an even greater career. You didn’t care about any of that. Right then it just didn’t seem worthy to work so hard for something you father wanted for you. He didn’t even bother to share what he had planned for you, let alone listen to what you wanted. It didn’t take a genius to assume that what he was thinking of for you would turn you into an even sadder figure of him.

Your grandfather was basically the only one who, despite his advanced age, understood you completely. Even when your father informed him, you knew he wouldn’t have asked questions of why you were visiting him for the whole summer. He was too happy to see you after three years. After hearing the news of your expulsion, he smiled and let you in, ignoring your father’s indications; that you were grounded, and needed discipline. It was refreshing to finally trust an adult. Back in the city, you only had Hoseok and Jungkook, and they were fun to hang out with and they were the closest thing you had to a friend. Nevertheless, you missed the feeling of being taken care of. A nice home-made meal every now and then, to talk about important things related to family, that kind of stuff, the stuff that only a relative can deliver.

The floor of the old beach house still cricked whenever you stepped too hard, you noticed as you walked into the guest room and dropped your suitcases and bag pack on the ground. You recalled the countless times you had crashed here whenever you were too tired to go back next door, to what was at the time where you lived.

“I haven’t had the time to set the bed,” your grandfather sighed, “my back is killing me, so I hoped you could do that for me.”

The bed stood in the middle of the room, naked and surrounded by two antique nightstands. Both of them had a night lamp that you doubted they functioned correctly since they had never, even when you were a child. You had never been scared of the dark and your grandparents rarely received any visits, so they had never felt the need to change the bulbs of said lamps. In the mornings, the sunshine was enough to light up all the room and the almost transparent curtains certainly helped with the natural illumination.

“Sure, let me unpack and I’ll do it.”

He ruffled your hair and then chuckled.

“I’ll make some sandwiches.”

After unpacking, you dropped all your weight on the just set bed. The springs ground against each other because of the sudden movement and you swore that one of them poked you somewhere in your back, but it had never felt more like home.

With your phone in your hands, you spent the next hour to catch up with your friends. It was hard to get to have your mobile back in your power. Your father had confiscated it as part of your punishment and refrained from hearing your countless reasons why you shouldn’t leave the city without any kind of communication. It was a pleasant surprise, or maybe it didn’t come as such as a surprise, to know that your father hadn’t changed his mindset and kept his sock drawer to hide things from you, such as confiscated things, or in a more joyful scenario, Christmas presents.

Hoseok We already miss you here (19:07)

Jungkook You left a bobby pin in my house, come back to get it (19:13)

It was heart-warming. Your chest hurt a little from the separation, and you knew it was only going to be two months away and you could always call them whenever you felt too lonely, but still, there was some excitement tingling inside you because you were aware that you were going to meet them again. The distance just made your heart grow fonder.

You were already feeling a little weird without your things around you. Back in the city, your room wasn’t that cheerful itself, but you made sure to make it that way. The white walls were covered with little drawings, fallen leaves you had collected randomly because they looked too pretty to leave on the floor just like that, and postcards of the places you dreamed of going someday. You knew that if you decided to change the colour of the walls, you would get bored of it soon, so you figured that keeping them plain blank was the perfect chance to customize them as much as you wanted, and you could easily change your mind, your likes or dislikes and it would be as trouble-free as unsticking everything you had put up on the walls. But now, looking here and there, you feel small. The beige walls seem like they are towering over you. It was hard to picture yourself as a little kid in this very same room. Right then, the room seemed boring as hell. Sure, it was where you used to sleep as a child after your grandfather told you a story and those memories would never ever leave you, they had a very special place in your heart, but you came to the conclusion that it was going to be impossible to shield yourself inside the house all the summer like you had planned to do. You had your phone, but you knew that it was only a matter of time until you get bored and feel the need to do something, anything. Besides your mobile, the most interesting thing the room had to offer was maybe the window that had a not so clear nor close view of the beach.

“Why don’t you take a walk?”

Your grandfather really needed to learn how to knock.

“Grandpa! You almost gave me a heart attack…” You yelled with your hand on your chest. Your heartbeat was basically drumming like crazy beneath your palm.

“Those are no fun,” he commented, probably speaking from experience, with a blank expression. “If you are done here, take a walk before it gets dark. Your father said something about curfew, but I just don’t want you walking alone if it’s late.”

It was nice to have an authority figure being kind to you for a change. Not that your father hadn’t been because that would’ve meant he engaged a conversation with you every once in a while, and that literally only happened if you ever got in trouble, but with him being absent all the time, it was hard for anyone to notify him about your playing hooky, or stuff like that.

“I promise I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

You had forgotten how good the summer breeze felt on your skin. The sand was particularly sparkly when the sun was giving its last goodbye. The sand felt warm between your toes, the weight of your body sunk you a little because it was still wet from the high tide. A sudden desire to walk into the sea and put your feet in the water hit you, but you refrained. You knew better than that. There was a high possibility that once in the water, you weren’t going back to your grandfather’s for a long time.

You kept wandering. The sand, once so shiny and golden, turned into a cloud of almost blue dust that seemed as if it had been sprayed with little diamonds when nobody was watching when the moon appeared. The temperature had dropped a little, and you scolded yourself for not having brought a light sweater, the one Jungkook had unpacked, along with other things, from one of your suitcases so he could fit inside of it and you would “bring him with you”. The recent memory made you smile while you tried to shield your chest with your arms against the cold wind. You didn’t remember the night to be this cold and it was probably because when you used to live here, at this hour, you were tucked in bed, probably hearing your grandfather ranting about some nonsense or maybe even sleeping after a long day.

Wait, what time was it?

Automatically, your hands flew to the back pocket of your high-waisted shorts. Your phone wasn’t there. You had left it charging on the nightstand. Great.

There was no much more left to do, really. The beach could extend itself for kilometres if you recall correctly, and you weren’t really on the mood nor with the right attire, a tank top, a pair of shorts and also bared foot, to walk more than just a little bit more.

Your bored eyes checked around and recognized, not too far, the old fishing dock still standing proudly just above the salty water. You had given it for totally destroyed. Even when you were here, that thing had never looked solid and for that very reason, you had never dared to put a single foot on it. You remembered that whenever your father and grandfather left you with the lovely family just across the beach house and went fishing (since they didn’t have a boat they just went to the dock to test their luck) you were practically begging and clutching into their legs so they would change their mind and stay with you. In the end, they would come back, sometimes empty-handed, other times, with a bucket full of fishes for dinner, but safe and sound much to your relief. Back then, you were convinced that only strong people like them could walk through that delicate wooden runway and come back alive to tell the tale. Now you were all grown-up, kind of, and you knew it wasn’t magic or anything like that what allowed them to come back home with not one scratch, but the result of a well-thought architecture.

A little spark inside your chest ignited at the sight of the dock. You didn’t really think about it and run towards it, because that’s the only way doubt creeps in and stops you from doing something that might be a great story to tell when you’re old enough to think that talking to strangers in the bus about the adventures of your youth is socially acceptable and not at all weird.

Soon, you were in front of the only step that separated you from the dock. It was dumb, you realized. You literally were with both your feet on the sand, gasping for air because you had run to get where you were standing, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to step on the wooden boards ahead. It seemed like a huge step, and you didn’t even know why. The first tread seemed pretty solid if someone were to ask you and there were no nails that could possibly nail into your skin and give you tetanus, because, come on, those nails were rusty as hell. There was no reason that kept you from walking down the dock. Nothing. Your father wasn’t there to call you and remind you about your curfew, and even if he had been here, you didn’t have your phone with you. And your foolish fear from when you were a child had been long forgotten. That only left you, and the wooden path.

You walked in the dock.

It was an anti-climax if you were honest. All the fear but also craving to walk down it you had bottled up since you were just a child it didn’t explode like when you shake a soda and pop it open, it just slipped through your fingers like water. You practically watched it dry off on the floor. How disappointing… There was nothing special about the old wooden boards, and the wind was chillier than before. Despite that, you decided to continue your little stroll until the end of the trail. Once there, you sat down and took advantage of the situation to put your feet in the sea.

Hoseok and Jungkook would’ve jumped into the water in no time, you thought, and you would’ve done the exact same thing. But, now you didn’t want to do it. Maybe because it was a little late, you could tell your body was asking for some rest already, or maybe because there was no one to prove anything to. Back in the city, you had your friends, the ones that had met you when you were trying to taste the new freedom your father was giving you so recklessly, and then you had him, your father. But he was a different story. If you had wanted to prove something to him, you would’ve made sure that he noticed you, and that was far from your desires. Sometimes you wanted nothing more but for him to completely forget about you. Yes, he was never home but he still tried to take your future into his hands and if he forgot about you, you could be the only owner of your destiny.

Your feet were softly dancing in the water and you rested your chin in the palm of your hand, devoting your time to watch the movement of the water. The moon, reflected on it, would distort and turn into one million figures by the simple motion of your body, and you were so drowned into it that you almost didn’t notice the water bubbling up. At first, you didn’t think much of it, it had been probably you with your feet, but the bubbles kept coming up even after you had removed your feet from the water. It reminded you of boiling water, and there was certainly something underneath causing all that fuss. The night didn’t help at all, and you found yourself leaning into the water to have a better view of whatever it was down there. The bubbles were only making it harder to distinguish anything at all and you were about to give up when a strike of light blinded you. You fell on your back, almost hitting the back of your head. Your eyes burned considerably, you rubbed them with the hope of relieving the sting.

“What the hell?” You murmured to yourself.

There was something down there, the pain your eyes were going through was the proof.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking a little to get used to the light again. You crawled to the end of the dock. The bubbling had subsided and there was no trace of light or anything at all there, but you knew that something had caused that reaction of the water and that dazzling luminescence. Looking for answers, you checked around you. All seemed clear; the sea was calm, and there was no one in sight. You started to doubt your own common sense. Your head was somewhere else right then. You had had a long trip today and you didn’t remember the last time you had gotten a good night sleep. Maybe your brain had had enough and it finally had drained out of judgment for the day.

In the middle of the silence, a splash was heard nearby, almost next to you. Your head turned in the direction of the noise, and you saw it again; that glow. It wasn’t as dazzling as before but it sure wasn’t hard to notice. It looked like the moon had fallen right into the ocean. Perhaps your sleep-deprived-self was finally giving up, but if the moon hadn’t been above you in the sky, shinning as always, you would’ve honestly believed that it was in the ocean right then. You didn’t notice how the shiny object, that wasn’t the moon, started to approach the dock with languid movements from one side. The only thing you got to hear from your tired mind was “run”, you followed the advice and backed away from the borderline of the path. You must’ve stepped too hard because of the nerves and the pure panic caused one of the old and mouldy wooden boards to snap in half, trapping your left foot. Your toes grazed the salty water beneath the dock. You were now knee-deep between the timber trail and the sea. While your leg had slipped in the hole you had created, the splintered wood had scratched the sides of your calf. The salt in the water just made the pain even worse. You couldn’t drown the whine of pain that got out from your mouth. Your head echoed that torn sound over and over again, it was almost as if you hadn’t stopped screaming for a second. You sounded pitiful, scared and overly vulnerable, yet nobody was coming for your rescue. It was late, dark and the closest family lived like half an hour walk away, that was if they were even home.

In a desperate attempt to unstuck your leg, you rocked it back and forward and tried to use both your hands to lift your body. Your right knee was getting tired of being pressed against the wood, and you were scared that the ancient structure wouldn’t take your weight any longer and lose another part, letting you fall once and for all. Nevertheless, there was no use. Your lower limb was basically compressed there, and the more you moved, the more damage it inflicted to your muscle. The splintered wood was breaking the first layer of skin of your leg, leaving behind a raw trail. Your blood was probably joining the salty water. You begged whatever was stalking from under the sea didn’t like the taste of blood because if it did, it was being attracted to you by the smell of it.

Besides your rushed breathing, you could hear near to nothing around you. This little town barely had a twentieth of the population the city you had been living the past few years had; even if you screamed your lungs out, nobody would hear. The few people that lived here were far away enough to hear whatever was happening on the beach, moreover, they were asleep.

A cold shiver licked your body from the inside, all the way from the tip of your toe, going through your spine, to end at the top of your head. There was something wrapped around your foot. A frozen grip that kept growing tighter and tighter. You couldn’t quite tell if it was because of the cold touch, or maybe it was the fact that you were terrified, but your body refused to respond to your brain. You were trapped in every sense of the word; your leg was impaled between splintered wood, something was clutching at your foot, and your body wasn’t responding. The grip was familiar, it felt almost like a hand. You could feel fingers too, but it had sharp claws at the tips. The claws grazed your skin as if it was trying to calm you down. Too bad it only made you reminded you of how cows are stunned before being killed. The touch was relatively melodious considering the circumstances. Melodious since your breathing wasn’t hurried anymore. Somehow, you had accomplished to synchronize your breathing with the movement of those delicate brushes on your skin; inhaling the closer it got to your thigh, and exhaling when it went down to your toes. Hypnotizing. A hypnotizing touch that went in a spiral to your core. Your mind was clouded by pleasing grey fog. All the worries vanished just like that. There was nothing in your mind. In your head, you were floating above water, a soft tide swinging your body back and forward. It seemed so real.

“Feeling any better?”

No matter how velvety that voice was, your breathing got stuck in your throat. It didn’t make you feel safe, quite the opposite, because there was no one around that could be the owner of that voice. It was literally coming from the dark.

The air wasn’t fresh anymore, you weren’t sure if you were breathing anymore. There was a weak beeping in your ear, accompanied by the sound of your blood pumping through your veins. You wanted to cry.

In your dazzled state, the only thing you succeeded to rescue was that single thought: run. So that’s what you decided to do. You tried to pull your leg out of the hole, again, not caring about the sharp pain on your thigh, ignoring the thought of how the shattered wood was peeling your skin off. You screamed when the underwater grip got tighter around your ankle. The claws, pinning in your skin, were like a shot of frozen, but bubbly, liquid into your veins. You stopped fighting, not because you wanted, but because you were physically unable to move. You knew there was no use on crying for help, but oh, how would you’ve loved to be able to scream until your lungs burned, that would’ve been the only source of warmth in your body.

You wondered if the wood had already cut off your circulation; if it was easier to chop off your leg completely, but you knew that the answer to those questions was no. You could feel how cold the water was, that hand, still gripping onto your ankle. There was no doubt, the circulation was there.

At this rate, you weren’t sure if there was someone, or something, that could have mercy on you. You glanced around you, attempting to see through the tears that were clouding your sight, seeking for anything that could be of utility, maybe something you could use as a lever, but there was nothing around, just old and broken wood boards that wouldn’t be helpful. The whole deck was made out of them, and thanks to this situation, you had confirmed the obvious; they were fragile, they couldn’t support your weight…

That’s it!

You took a deep breath, bent your body to one side, lifted your arm, and then lowered it with might, hitting the wood board that was right next to the one your leg was stuck in with your elbow. It cracked, but it didn’t break. You tried again until it eventually broke in half and both pieces fell in the ocean. The board around your leg followed them. You were too shocked to move, but when the realisation hit you, and you dared to look down, there was nothing holding onto your ankle. You moved back from there, just in case, and raised your leg up with the help of both your arms to carefully straightened it up the best you could. There were fresh, but superficial cuts all around it, right above your knee, those you were expecting to see. The rest of your leg was rather unharmed, except for your ankle. Blood was dripping from four vertical cuts. You gasped at the sight. It looked bad and you were sure it would look even worse if you didn’t do something about it. You had to apply pressure to the wound, you remembered you had read that somewhere.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

It was that voice again. No matter how briefly you had heard it, you knew it was the same voice.

You turned around and found a pair of eyes staring right back at you. They belonged to a man around your age, you soon noticed. Half of his face was underwater, but you still could appreciate his exceptional features; high cheekbones, blond hair, a colour that would only be attainable with bleach, and sun-kissed skin. But the feature that truly captured your attention was his gaze. You were scared to death. Your knees were ready to give in. However, there was something about those green eyes that made your heart settle down inside your trembling body.

Despite your dry throat, you dared to speak.

“Who are you?”

There was no response. He raised both eyebrows as if saying “oh, really?”, and began to swim closer to the deck. You automatically tried to move away, which made him stop his tracks. He looked confused.

“Stay back,” you demanded.

Your voice was anything but confident, so you were surprised when he didn’t move an inch closer to the dock. The stranger simply held both hands in the air, showing surrender, but you didn’t let your guard down. There was something about his presence that made you feel uncomfortably calmed. A little voice in your head was telling you that he was to be trusted, but your body just wouldn’t stop reacting with rejection towards him. If he got any closer, he could easily overpower you. There was nothing you could defend yourself with, and you weren’t going to run off, your leg wouldn’t let you, so you decided to keep your distance using your hands to push your body further back from the edge of the dock.

“Who are you?” You asked again, louder.

The stranger rolled his eyes but he was quick to lock your gazes again with a bored expression. A shiver went down your spine and left a fire trace along with it.

Something was wrong, you could feel it.

In a poor attempt of hiding the fear that was washing over you, you tried to get on your feet. If this stranger was the person to blame for your wounded leg, you couldn’t let him know he had an advantage over you. So, with quivering legs, you stood up.

“You’re the one who did this to me.”

It wasn’t a question. You were almost certain that this man had hurt you. After all, he was the only one there with you.

He took the rest of his head out of the water. His lips were stretched in an unapologetic smile, but he stayed silent.

“You’re not going to deny it?” You asked frowning.

“Why would I?” He answered, surprising you, “you seem pretty sure about your theory.”

The sound of his voice vibrated on your chest, it almost threw you down your feet again. You knew you had heard his voice a few times that night, but it always took you by surprise. His voice was so powerful and dominating, you felt the need to surrender to him.

“Oh, the little girl is scared, isn’t she?”

His teasing tone made you grit your teeth in frustration. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Who are you?”

“You’re gonna keep asking that? Fine,” he scoffed. “My name is Kim Taehyung.”

Sharp pain in your wounded leg caused you to buck your knees and almost hit the ground. You had to do something about your injuries, otherwise, there was going to be an infection or worse. You went back to your previous idea and bent down to apply pressure on the wound.

“I wouldn’t do that…” Taehyung hummed.

At first, you weren’t going to listen to him because; in all honesty, who would listen to a creepy stranger that most definitely had hurt you? But he was still where you had asked him to stay, and he didn’t seem to be moving from there anytime soon.

“And why would I listen to you, huh? You literally cut my skin.”

Taehyung laughed bitterly, and then looked away from you to the night sky. You wondered if he was trying to make time, if there was someone hiding in the dark, ready to attack you. The thought made you shiver. Now you weren’t so sure that putting your guard down was such a good idea.

He kept his eyes on the sky almost peacefully. The fact that he could be so calmed around you while you were struggling to catch your breath just cleared up your actual situation; he was in power now and you couldn’t do anything about it, even if you tried. No matter how strong you thought to could be, he didn’t need to be careful around you, it was the other way around. The only thing you could do was to hope he would get distracted enough time for you to ran and hide until the morning came.

His gaze locked yours and he smiled.

“I’m surprised you’re on your feet,” he noted, “most of you don’t last this long.”

His tone was so calmed like he had done this exact same thing many times before. You had had a slight impression that he had planned this, but with what he had just said, you were now completely sure.

Sweat was dripping down your forehead, cold, freezing even, sweat but your body was heating up, boiling.

“Listen, I-”

“No,” he interrupted you, “you listen to me. If you want to live, don’t touch your wound.”

You had never liked for anyone to tell you what to do, but in this situation, you didn’t have a choice, did you?

While thinking of what to answer to him, you felt your knees shake. Your legs finally gave up. Your body hit the floor and you heard the wood board crack beneath you, you held your breath.

“What’s happening?” You urged.

“Are you new around here?”

“What?”

“Hasn’t anyone told you not to wander around the beach late at night, dumb girl?” He sounded confused, surprised even, but his tone changed after some sort of realisation. “Of course no one has. Your kind is characteristically stupid, always have been.”

The numbing feeling was spreading at a slow speed. Your feet were there, they were definitely there, but you couldn’t feel them.

“M-make it stop!”

You heard a sigh from beneath the dock.

“Panicking will only make it worse, and you don’t want that, do you?”

“What-”

“If you touch your wound, you won’t feel your arms in a matter of minutes,” he then explained.

Had he poisoned you?

“Now, stay still and listen to me, dumb girl. I’ve got something to tell you…”

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Love Poem in Singapore: My Second IU Concert

On 6 Dec 2019, I was blessed with the opportunity of seeing IU perform live for the second time at her Love Poem concert tour in Singapore.

I must confess that in some ways, things didn't go smoothly for me: ticketing was somewhat traumatic, because the tickets for the original 7 Dec Saturday show sold out within an hour of release, even before I had logged on to the site (sorry for underestimating your popularity, IU!); after I secured a Friday ticket, I couldn't help fretting about whether I could get to the concert venue from work on time; when I reached the concert hall, I realised I had missed out on collecting the SG Heart IU fan support items and the free IU postcard from the concert organizer; and towards the end of the show, my phone ran low on storage and battery so I couldn't take further audio recordings.

Yet there was a silver lining to everything: getting a Friday ticket turned out to be blessing in disguise because of a family commitment cropping up which would have made attending the Saturday show a challenge; my day at work turned out to be fairly peaceful and productive, so I did leave work on time; not having the fan support items prompted me to initiate a conversation with a fellow uaena; and not being burdened with the need to record everything allowed me to focus purely on enjoying the show. Above all, no number of minor obstacles could detract from the wonderful experience of seeing IU again. So let me try once again to document my precious memories, before they slowly fade with the passing of time.

Pre-concert

So on the fateful day of 6 Dec, I woke with a feeling of great joy and anticipation; all day at work, it took supreme discipline to rein in my feelings of excitement to concentrate on my tasks. Thankfully, I left on time and rushed down to the concert venue from my workplace by train. As I walked from the train station to Star Vista, I was quite amused to spot a number of people selling (selfmade?) IU posters and merchandise along the roadside, but  refrained from stopping to avoid the risk of being late. It seemed that everyone around me was making their way to the concert as well, for they were all holding IU concert tickets or knick knacks.

As I was queuing to get to the concert hall, I took the chance to observe the profile of my fellow uaenas again. I noticed that compared to last year, where the nationalities of the concert goers were distinctly varied, this year's crowd seemed to be predominantly Singaporean - probably a direct result of IU having more Southeast Asian stops in this year's tour. It made me glad that IU did have a sizable Singaena fanbase after all, that was sufficiently large to sell out two days !

When I was seated in the hall, I realised that everyone except myself was holding on to IU postcards and fanchant guides. I was also puzzled about where the SG Heart IU fingerlights were, which I had assumed would be at the seats. I plucked up the courage to ask the fellow uaena next to me where she had got hers, and she said she had picked them at the bag check area (sorry SG Heart IU, for not reading admin instructions properly!) I spent the next few minutes feeling dismayed at the thought of not being able to being able to do my part for the fan support - but the feeling of disappointment was soon replaced by excitement when the IU band members made their way to the stage to screams from the crowd. There was no sign of IU yet though - until the fellow uaena next to me nudged me excitedly and said, "Look, I think that's her!" From our circle seats we had a fairly good view of the whole stage including the curtained areas, and there, indeed, was a familiar, petite figure peeking out from backstage. I don't think anyone else noticed though, or there would have been wild screams! My heart skipped a beat, and I was too dumbstruck with excitement to respond. (To my fellow uaena, if you are reading this, I'm sorry - I didn't mean to be rude!)

Opening segment

Before we knew it, the lights dimmed, and IU emerged on an elevated platform under a spotlight in the middle of the stage, singing the upbeat, cheery opening line of "unlucky" in her clear, sweet voice. She looked lovely and girlish with a white flower in her long, flowing tresses, clad in a soft, frilly yellow dress speckled with blue flowers (an image which for some reason was reminiscent of Lee Soon Shin to me.)

I guess for me, the opening is always one of the most emotional and special moments of an IU concert. For overseas fans like myself who hardly get to see IU, there is something incredibly surreal about seeing that familiar figure and hearing that familiar voice in person. I can still recall how overwhelmed I was when I saw IU for the first time at last year's concert - in fact I now associate the opening song "Red Shoes" with the feeling of euphoria, and for the same reason, "unlucky" will have a special place in my heart as well. The audience shared my joy too, for it went absolutely wild with rapturous screams at the sight of IU, and kept up with this energy level throughout the concert.

IU moved on to a lovely acoustic rendition of Palette, before greeting the audience in a mix of Korean and English. She introduced herself as "IU who loves so much Singapore" - an awkward turn of phrase, but all the more adorable because of that! She expressed her happiness at being in Singapore for a second time, and talked about how this was her favourite venue (because of the "atmosphere, sound, mood...and the colour of the chairs - very red"). She also made us raise our hands to indicate whether we were here last year, and when most of us did so, she marvelled at how we have "so much loyalty here in Singapore".

For the rest of the segment, she sang "Autumn Morning", "Friday" and "Secret Garden". I recall IU had mentioned in one of her concert stops in Korea that for the opening segment, she had deliberately chosen songs that would allow the audience to focus on her vocals. And indeed, the songs were perfect for showcasing the light and mellow side of her voice. Before singing Autumn Morning, she told us to imagine the following: "blue sky, the children, lovely family, lovely mum, lovely dad...lazy son" (to which everyone burst out laughing). And when she started singing the first two lines of the song acapella, her voice pure, clear and gentle, I did feel as though I had been transported to a temperate country on a crisp autumn morning with fresh air and bright sunlight.

The theme of nature continued with "Secret Garden", where IU stood in front of a gorgeous projection of lush greenery, and behind three panels of silvery light that seemed like cascading waterfalls. It was a breathtaking sight that complemented the beauty of the song and IU's voice, and created an enduring image which will always come to mind whenever I hear "Secret Garden" now. It was also a fitting end to the first segment with its mix of sweet, uplifting and lyrical ballads.

Segment two

One of things I admire most about IU as an artist is her versatility, and she demonstrated this in the second segment with a setlist that had a completely different mood and vibe from the first. If the first segment was about showcasing IU's light and sweet voice, the second part was a chance to show off the sultry and husky side of her vocals. She kickstarted the segment with "The Visitor", a slow but groovy number with edgy and sensuous vibes. It's my favourite song in IU's latest album, and hearing it live was absolutely thrilling! IU was dressed to match the mood as well, clad in a blouse with bold prints matched with a short black skirt, hidden teasingly beneath a loose, draping coat, and with a sparkly black beret and boots to complete the look.

For the rest of the segment, IU performed a mix of her more groovy tracks and lively dance numbers: "Jam Jam", "Twenty-Three", "BBIBBI", "Hold my Hand", "Last Night Story" and "Blueming". I generally gravitate towards IU's ballads, but I actually found myself enjoying this segment the most. Other than IU's charismatic and energetic stage presence, I was  buoyed by the audience's infectious enthusiasm; even for a reserved person like myself, it felt exhilarating to be singing and cheering along with a huge crowd, bound by our shared love for the little bean onstage. IU commended us for our high energy level as well, commenting a number of times on how passionate and "high-tensioned" Singaenas were and how enthusiastically everyone was waving their lightsticks. At some point she teased someone for waving her lightstick at two times the speed of everyone else - "Maybe your hand will be less painful if you sway it together with the audience". Our deafening fanchants for BBIBBI also prompted her to declare Singapore as "the hometown for BBIBBI".

Another notable moment was during "Blueming", where the the SG Heart IU fan event was pulled off successfully. The audience in the stall seats turned on their colour-changing rose-shaped lights, turning the concert hall into a beautiful illuminated field of multi-coloured flowers - a perfect tribute to the million blooming roses referenced in "Blueming". IU commented later that she had initially thought that the audience was waving her official lightstick, before realising that it was a fan event, which she described as "the cutest" ever, and very pretty. Even though I was a little sad that I wasn't part of the fan event, I felt really happy seeing how nice it looked, and how it brought a smile to IU's face.

Segment three

IU started off the third segment with the heartwarming singalong favourite Meaning of You, which the audience sang with great gusto. She looked elegant in a long-sleeved, ankle-length white dress that was old fashioned but classy - my favourite outfit for the night.

The highlight of this segment came when IU announced that she had a present for us - an idea which came to her only two days ago, and which the team had to prepare in a rush. The audience stirred with excitement, and I was filled with anticipation too, expecting a local song which IU typically prepares for her overseas concerts. But we were all in for a bigger surprise when IU said: "Please don’t think of me as a singer, but think of me as Jang Man Wol". She proceeded to seranade us with a medley of Hotel Del Luna OSTs ("Lean On Me", "All About You", "Remember Me", and most notably, "Happy Ending" with her self-written lyrics) while a video montage of Jang Man Wol and Goo Chan Sung moments played in the background. I was swooning internally, and I'm sure in the rest of the audience was too - especially the few ahjummas and ahjusshis I spied in the audience, whom I guessed might have been new fans from the drama!

After the medley ended, IU said her Korean fans would be really sad as she had never sung "Happy Ending" for them even when she requested it, and made us promise to keep this a secret from her K-uaenas. (Nice try, IU!) She also shared how close she was to the HDL team, whom she had watched Frozen 2 with recently, as well as her love and respect for Gummy (singer of Remember Me) - which hilariously created some confusion with the translation initially as the Korean pronunciation for "Gummy" also sounds like "spider".

IU then wrapped up this segment with two sentimental ballads - "Lullaby", and "Through the Night", another crowd favourite which I enjoyed singing along to as well. Before the last line - "I hope its a good dream", IU gently murmured "Singapore" - and for some reason that triggered a sudden surge of emotions in me. It brought to mind how two years ago, as a new fan, I wasn't sure if IU was even aware that she had fans in Singapore, and seeing her seemed all but a distant dream - and reminded me how lucky I was to have her here now, acknowledging our presence as fans.

Segment Four + Encore

IU returned in a sparkly dark coloured dress for the fourth segment, which began with "Sogyeokdong". IU commented that this was a song with underlying sadness, but Singaenas were still so excited that she coud not help excitedly waving her hands too - "I'm not a pro...Even when I'm singing ballads, I can't control myself". (It's ok to be slightly unprofessional at times IU, it makes us even happier when you are happy!)

"Sogyeokdong" was followed by "Red Shoes", which evoked a wave of nostalgia in me as it brought to mind the exciting opening for last year's concert. IU then said she would have to move on to the last song -  eliciting loud groans from the audience - to which IU chuckled and teased us for our "pro reaction". The purported last song was "Above the Time" - a song which I didn't like immediately when it was first released, but which I grew to love the more I listened to it. I have to add too, that it's a song that sounds absolutely amazing live, and gave me goosebumps listening to it then!

After IU left the stage, the audience promptly began to chant "encore" repeatedly. IU returned shortly after in a long gem-studded pink dress, laughing at how she didn't even have time to go to the washroom because of our immediate chants. She ended off with "Good Day" and her titular song "Love Poem", before leaving the stage.

Re-encore

A few audience members began to leave, but the vast majority were clearly seasoned fans who knew what to expect, for the loud chants for encore started again. After a brief interlude, the IU band members returned onstage, followed by IU, to wild cheers from the crowd. Being used to seeing IU's characteristically baggy shirts and oversized sweaters for her re-encores, I was surprised to see her dressed girlishly in a sweet cream-coloured sweater pulled over a pretty floral dress.

The re-encore started with "Heart", which IU sung with the audience, in keeping with uaena tradition. IU quipped that at overseas concerts, she enjoyed hearing the imperfect pronunciation of her international fans, but Singaenas were just too good in Korean. IU continued asking for song requests thereafter - but the screams were so loud I couldn't hear a thing! She settled on "Sleepless Rainy Night" (which I was delighted to hear), "Night of the First Breakup", before wrapping up with "Someday".

Post-concert reflections

The 2018 dlwlrma concert will always have a special place in my heart as my inaugural IU concert, but I think this year's Love Poem concert experience was even better.

For one, it felt more fun and intimate because IU was even more interactive with the audience this year. There were many hilarious moments - like when she teased a male fan for dancing very animatedly throughout the concert, and pronounced him the cutest guy in Singapore - or when she laughed at how a female fan responded to her in Korean when she spoke in English. The rapport between IU and the audience also felt even stronger this year - the audience demonstrated an energy level that seemed to surpass last year's - and you could see how IU in turn radiated with joy to see our enthusiasm. She regularly teased us about how loud we were, and at one point, also commented on how there seemed to be "no shade" in Singapore - meaning that everyone here seemed really happy. My heart was also full hearing her express her love for Singapore - she talked about her family holiday here in January this year, and how her brother liked it so much that he was seriously considering doing his exchange studies here (please do so, IU's brother!)

But above all, what I found most moving and meaningful was IU's introspective musings on sadness, happiness and love. She spoke of how during this year's concert tour, there was a bit of underlying sadness during each of her concert, but in today's concert, she was laughing all the way even for the sad songs, and there was no single space for sadness to come in. I felt a sense of relief hearing that - for prior to the concert, a part of me was worrying about how IU was coping with recent events - and whether she would be reining in her sadness to deliver the smiles and energy expected from her as a performer.

But I guess IU has always been a strong and resilient  person, and one to give love and provide healing words of comfort, as she did during my favourite part of her concert talk. I think paraphrasing her words might not do her justice, so let me just reproduce her words here:

"I come here only once a year so I don’t know in detail what kind of troubles you’re living with and what makes you sad, but I think that all people live with similar problems, similar troubles. Right? Anyway, when you feel dispirited and want to end everything, I wish that you think of our promise today: to meet me here next year. You have to remember! We promise. To meet here again next year, we will right? All promises are truly important right? Keep your promise! Day by day, if you live on breathing slowly, it will soon be next year, right? And I’ll come back again to make another promise, to meet here next year, and we keep our promise again, and again, and again, and again. Right? This will be easy. I’ll do it as well. Promise. I hope that today was a good day. I.. (hesitantly) love you."

IU went on to say that this was her first time saying I love you in English, and added, almost bashfully: "I adore you. I cherish you." When she said this, I felt my heart expand with a warm, fuzzy feeling of peace and joy.

Perhaps it was because of these uplifting words and IU's repeated reassurance that she would be back - and perhaps because the adrenaline from the infectious enthusiasm of my fellow uaenas had yet to subside - the post-concert blues didn't hit me immediately after the concert ended. I recall last year I had remained in my seat, feeling lost and empty, but this year, I left beaming as I made my way out of the concert hall with the rest of the crowd.

The post-concert blues did sink in a little the next day, as I relived my memories looking at other fancams - but mixed with this was a feeling of gratitude and joy at how blessed I had been.

Thank you IU, for giving love through your Love Poem concert, and I look forward to seeing you again next year.

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss: “Meet me at the Main Street Cafe,” the message went

And talk about a drive through the night heading out of Duluth: US 53 to US 12 out of Eau Claire, then Wisconsin 21 from Tomah eastward to Necedah, Wisconsin, fortified by rather strong coffee and a want of worthwhile overnight radio as was anything other than Larry King, Jim Bohannon or George Noory in their Luscious Glory of illogical absurdity attracting mostly late-shift welfare-to-work basket cases at the Walmart.

All because of a rather surprising message texted unto me coming out of Duluth: “Meet me at the Main Street Cafe, Necedah.” I couldn’t make hair nor hide of who might have sent the same, especially considering the fact of Necedah being a somewhat second-rate one-horse town notorious for a Discredited Apparition of Our Lady back in 1950, I believe ... an “apparition” of “Our Lady Queen of the Holy Rosary, Mediatrix of Peace, Mediatrix Between God and Man” as was found later to have been insincere, apocalyptic and not exactly on the same par as Lourdes, Fatima even, for sincerity and piety. (I will spare all the sordid laundry, mind you.)

But still, as the dawn came--a sort of grayish-looking dawn, with a few streaks of clear skies in the heavens--revealing essentially a terre mauvais of the highest order, with dead trees and tree limbs to be had everywhere, Necedah could not be that far off. And before long, approaching Necedah’s Main Street (Highway 80 otherwise), I began wondering who could have wanted me to meet them at the Main Street Cafe in Necedah, and the radionale therefor.

This even as I parked my car in the Municipal Parking Lot across the way-ho-way glill platonic time weatherborn (whatever that may be) ... and across the way was the Main Street Cafe, a modest hole-in-the-wall seating about 25 tops at any one time, with a decent mix of locals (usually farmers as are unlikely to make much out of the sandy soils) and tourists, including a few with summer homes at or close to the Castle Rock Flowage--basically the Wisconsin River backed up by the Castle Rock Dam for the sake of hydroelectric power as much as for outdoor sport.

But back to the cafe: Featuring cheesy plaques with slogans like “Welcome To Our Bed and Breakfast--You Make Both” and “Those Who Criticise the Cook Will Face Starvation” (the last one over the entrance to the kitchen), and with a modest bit of clutter towards the back, such was said to come Highly Recommended--though probably not by Duncan Hines if he were still around with his Adventures in Good Eating, red cover and all. And it was at the backmost table, right-hand side as you enter, that--

“Is that you, Snagglepuss?!”

It was Lippy the Lion, of all the fellow Funatstics, and his morose-looking hyena companion, Hardy Har-Har, who was looking for me.

“Is that you--Lippy?! Hardy?!”

Which saw Hardy Har-Har remark in his usual pessimistic tone, “Oh dear ... oh my ... what exactly is the point of being here for breakfast, to begin with?

“Come now, Hardy,” Lippy remarked in cheerful counterpoint; “I bet you didn’t know where Snagglepuss was going to meet us here.” To which I responded, to wit: “What exactly was the point of your cryptic desire to meet me here?”

[Pause while coffee was being served and an opportunity had to check over the breakfast menu.]

Lippy: “I just thought we might say hi over breakfast--a more realistic sort of diner breakfast in some small-town cafe, not some sterile and antiseptically-predictable chain restaurant such as IHOP or Denny’s. More in the vein of some serious small-town colour.”

Hardy: “I just knew it--” [Followed by the rumbling of a Canadian National Railways train on the tracks just down the hill from the cafe, heading towards New Lisbon as a matter of record.] “Things are just going to get downhill from here on out!”

Moi: “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly,” even as I was sipping away on flat-tasting coffee from a coffee pot which seemed not to have been washed in some while. Descaled, even. And requiring some honey just to improve the taste.

As to the breakfast: One of my old favourites, a meat-lovers’ omlette, with hash browns even to complement the whole ... Lippy taking some pancakes, eggs over easy, sausage links, hash browns and white toast ... and Hardy, probably lacking any sort of appetite, contenting himself somewhat with corned beef hash.

“And might I just say there, Snagglepuss,” Lippy chimed in between mouthfuls of pancakes, “that you’re not all that bad yourself.”

“To be honest,” saith I, “that is a complement. Especially being on the road all this time ... and I assume you’re acquainted with Peter Potamus’ diving crew.”

“Are we ever!” was how Lippy responded. “I was just returning myself from a ‘sharing the dive’ assignment with a summer camp up by Minocqua, teaching teenage campers the basics of the diving experience.”

“Explain unto me,” asked I, “what this ‘sharing the dive’ is all about.”

“You see, Snagglepuss, between filming sessions of our Underwater America with Peter Potamus videos, or even the practice sessions at our diver’s colony outside of La Jolla, California, Peter wants us in his troupe to spend some time sharing the diving experience with especially disadvantaged groups, especially over the summer. It’s basically his way of encouraging people to Discover Diving in a somewhat unique sort of way.”

“So this involves spending time in summer camps or resorts like that--”

“To encourage people to get interested in diving. Skin diving, SCUBA even ... be it through demonstration dives aimed at getting people to discover the diving experience or even outright instruction! And what’s more, Snagglepuss,” Lippy added with some pride in the voice, “WE are all certified diving instructors!”

“Who exactly wouldn’t be among our kind?” was how Hardy added to the conversation in his usual myopic style.

Which brought about the chuckles.

“Meanwhile,” Lippy added, “I’d be curious to know if any of the waterpark resorts in Wisconsin Dells might have a need for such who could introduce diving to their guests, especially over the winter!”

“I’m not quite that kind, Lippy,” replied I. “But thanks for the enquiry.”

By the time it was all over and the cheque was paid, things had turned bright--and a little on the windy and warm side. So explaining a bit of fall leaf drop premature on the hill above the Municipal Parking Lot as we headed back to our cars--not to mention Lippy and Hardy reminding me to keep in touch.

As for myself, heading down Wisconsin 80 southbound from Necedah ...

@warnerarchive @hanna-barbera-land @warnerbrosentertainment @dinobirdy @hanna-barbera-blog @themineralyoucrave @screamingtoosoftly @hanna-barberians 

[coffeeandyoongi]

Underwater I

Prompt: The sea holds lots of secrets, are you ready to reveal them?

Word count: 5.5k

Pairing: Taehyungxreader

[Next chapter]

[Masterpost]

When you arrived, the guilt of having left so easily without putting up a fight or some resistance hit you right away deep in your chest. Maybe because in your way there, you started to miss the big city and wondered why you hadn’t been smarter and just behaved properly, that way your father wouldn’t have felt the need to “straighten you up.” It was a shame that his idea of turning you into someone a little more affectionate and sympathetic was to tear you apart from your friends and the city it had been your home since you were sixteen years old.

At first, you fought the tingly feeling that had set in the pit of your stomach when you recognized the salty aroma in the air and the warm breeze. The pride that came with your father putting your suitcases on the floor and leaving you without giving you a second glance was way too strong to ignore it. You couldn’t pretend you were surprised or hurt by his actions, he was mad anyway and it wasn’t something uncommon coming from him. Ever since he decided that dealing with your grandmother’s death was less important that work, his feelings kinda vanished. He still cared about you, that wasn’t the problem, but he sometimes needed to be reminded that raising a child, with no help at all also, was more than a lonely note stuck in the refrigerator saying “won’t be back ‘til late. Order some food.” But you couldn’t really complain, could you? You had the freedom every person your age dreamed of.

What dragged you back to your birth town, apart from a long trip by plane, wasn’t a poor attempt of calling his attention, as anyone might have concluded. This happened to you because you pushed the limits a little too much, it just got out of hand. What started with dipping your toe into what seemed like the perfect life, ended up with being suspended three times and eventually your expulsion. It was simple at first, skipping one period of History, to begin with. But that period turned into two and it all concluded with skipping weeks just so you could walk around the city with no destination at all. Sometimes your friends, Jungkook and Hoseok, would follow you. Other times, you would disappear for a good few hours. You were so used to being alone in your house, you might as well find a place that made you happy even in your isolation.

It took some time, but you finally found it enjoyable to be alone. When your friends couldn’t be there for you for whatever the reason was, you would take a random bus and get off somewhere you didn’t fully recognize. You would wander there and come back home really late, but not late enough for your father to notice that because he hadn’t come back from work yet. It wasn’t hard for him to notice that you weren’t doing good in school. A call from the principal and a miscalculation from you resulted into for father actually taking that call and a very long talk about your future, about how the last year of high school practically defines you and about the plans he had for you, great universities and an even greater career. You didn’t care about any of that. Right then it just didn’t seem worthy to work so hard for something you father wanted for you. He didn’t even bother to share what he had planned for you, let alone listen to what you wanted. It didn’t take a genius to assume that what he was thinking of for you would turn you into an even sadder figure of him.

Your grandfather was basically the only one who, despite his advanced age, understood you completely. Even when your father informed him, you knew he wouldn’t have asked questions of why you were visiting him for the whole summer. He was too happy to see you after three years. After hearing the news of your expulsion, he smiled and let you in, ignoring your father’s indications; that you were grounded, and needed discipline. It was refreshing to finally trust an adult. Back in the city, you only had Hoseok and Jungkook, and they were fun to hang out with and they were the closest thing you had to a friend. Nevertheless, you missed the feeling of being taken care of. A nice home-made meal every now and then, to talk about important things related to family, that kind of stuff, the stuff that only a relative can deliver.

The floor of the old beach house still cricked whenever you stepped too hard, you noticed as you walked into the guest room and dropped your suitcases and bag pack on the ground. You recalled the countless times you had crashed here whenever you were too tired to go back next door, to what was at the time where you lived.

“I haven’t had the time to set the bed,” your grandfather sighed, “my back is killing me, so I hoped you could do that for me.”

The bed stood in the middle of the room, naked and surrounded by two antique nightstands. Both of them had a nightlamps that you doubted they functioned correctly since they had never, even when you were a child. You had never been scared of the dark and your grandparents rarely received any visits, so they had never felt the need to change the bulbs of said lamps. In the mornings, the sunshine was enough to light up all the room and the almost transparent curtains certainly helped with the natural illumination.

“Sure, let me unpack and I’ll do it.”

He ruffled your hair and then chuckled.

“I’ll prepare us sandwiches.”

After unpacking, you dropped all your weight on the just set bed. The springs ground against each other because of the sudden movement and you swore that one of them poked you somewhere in your back, but it had never felt more like home.

With your phone in your hands, you spent the next hour to catch up with your friends. It was hard to get to have your mobile back in your power. Your father had confiscated it as part of your punishment and refrained from hearing your countless reasons why you shouldn’t leave the city without any kind of communication. It was a pleasant surprise, or maybe it didn’t come as such as a surprise, to know that your father hadn’t changed his mindset and kept his sock drawer to hide things from you, such as confiscated things, or in a more joyful scenario, Christmas presents.

Hoseok We already miss you here (19:07)

Jungkook You left a bobby pin in my house, come back to get it (19:13)

It was heart-warming. Your chest hurt a little from the separation, and you knew it was only going to be two months away and you could always call them whenever you felt too lonely, but still, there was some excitement tingling inside you because you were aware that you were going to meet them again. The distance just made your heart grow fonder.

You were already feeling a little weird without your things around you. Back in the city, your room wasn’t that cheerful itself, but you made sure to make it that way. The white walls were covered with little drawings, fallen leaves you had collected randomly because they looked too pretty to leave on the floor just like that, and postcards of the places you dreamed of going someday. You knew that if you decided to change the colour of the walls, you would get bored of it soon, so you figured that keeping them plain blank was the perfect chance to customize them as much as you wanted, and you could easily change your mind, your likes or dislikes and it would be as trouble-free as unsticking everything you had put up on the walls. But now, looking here and there, you feel small. The beige walls seem like they are towering over you. It was hard to picture yourself as a little kid in this very same room. Right then, the room seemed boring as hell. Sure, it was where you used to sleep as a child after your grandfather told you a story and those memories would never ever leave you, they had a very special place in your heart, but you came to the conclusion that it was going to be impossible to shield yourself inside the house all the summer like you had planned to do. You had your phone, but you knew that it was only a matter of time until you get bored and feel the need to do something, anything. Besides your mobile, the most interesting thing the room had to offer was maybe the window that had a not so clear nor close view of the beach.

“Why don’t you take a walk?”

Your grandfather really needed to learn how to knock.

“Grandpa! You almost gave a heart attack…” You yelled with your hand on your chest. Your heartbeat was basically drumming like crazy beneath your palm.

“Those are no fun,” he commented, probably speaking from experience, with a blank expression. “If you are done here, take a walk before it gets dark. Your father said something about curfew, but I just don’t want you walking alone if it’s late.”

It was nice to have an authority figure being kind to you for a change. Not that your father hadn’t been because that would’ve meant he engaged a conversation with you every once in a while, and that literally only happened if you ever got in trouble, but with him being absent all the time, it was hard for anyone to notify him about your playing hooky, or stuff like that.

“I promise I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

You had forgotten how good the summer breeze felt on your skin. The sand was particularly sparkly when the sun was giving its last goodbye. The sand felt warm between your toes, the weight of your body sunk you a little because it was still wet from the high tide. A sudden desire to walk into the sea and put your feet in the water hit you, but you refrained. You knew better than that. There was a high possibility that once in the water, you weren’t going back to your grandfather’s for a long time.

You kept wandering. The sand, once so shiny and golden, turned into an almost blue dust that seemed as if it had been sprayed with little diamonds when nobody was watching when the moon appeared. The temperature had dropped a little, and you scolded yourself for not having brought a light sweater, the one Jungkook had unpacked, along with other things, from one of your suitcases so he could fit inside of it and you would “bring him with you”. The recent memory made you smile while you tried to shield your chest with your arms against the cold wind. You didn’t remember the night to be this cold and it was probably because when you used to live here, at this hour, you were tucked in bed, probably hearing your grandfather ranting about some nonsense or maybe even sleeping after a long day.

Wait, what time was it?

Automatically, your hands flew to the back pocket of your high-waisted shorts. Your phone wasn’t there. You had left it charging on the nightstand. Great.

There was no much more left to do, really. The beach could extend itself for kilometres if you recall correctly, and you weren’t really on the mood nor with the right attire, a tank top, a pair of shorts and also bared foot, to walk more than just a little bit more.

Your bored eyes checked around and recognized, not too far, the old fishing dock still standing proudly just above the salty water. You had given it for totally destroyed. Even when you were here, that thing had never looked solid and for that very reason, you had never dared to put a single foot on it. You remembered that whenever your father and grandfather left you with the lovely family just across the beach house and went fishing (since they didn’t have a boat they just went to the dock to test their luck) you were practically begging and clutching into their legs so they would change their mind and stay with you. In the end, they would come back, sometimes empty-handed, other times, with a bucket full of fishes for dinner, but safe and sound much to your relief. Back then, you were convinced that only strong people like them could walk through that delicate wooden runway and come back alive to tell the tale. Now you were all grown-up, kind of, and you knew it wasn’t magic or anything like that what allowed them to come back home with not one scratch, but the result of a well-thought architecture.

A little spark inside your chest ignited at the sight of the dock. You didn’t really think about it and run towards it, because that’s the only way doubt creeps in and stops you from doing something that might be a great story to tell when you’re old enough to think that talking to strangers in the bus about the adventures of your youth is socially acceptable and not at all weird.

Soon, you were in front of the only step that separated you from the dock. It was dumb, you realized. You literally were with both your feet on the sand, gasping for air because you had run to get where you were standing, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to step on the wooden boards ahead. It seemed like a huge step, and you didn’t even know why. The first tread seemed pretty solid if someone were to ask you and there were no nails that could possibly nail into your skin and give you tetanus, because, come on, those nails were rusty as hell. There was no reason that kept you from walking down the dock. Nothing. Your father wasn’t there to call you and remind you about your curfew, and even if he had been here, you didn’t have your phone with you. And your foolish fear from when you were a child had been long forgotten. That only left you, and the wooden path.

You walked in the dock.

It was an anti-climax if you were honest. All the fear but also craving to walk down it you had bottled up since you were just a child it didn’t explode like when you shake a soda and pop it open, it just slipped through your fingers like water. You practically watched it dry off on the floor. How disappointing... There was nothing special about the old wooden boards, and the wind was chillier than before. Despite that, you decided to continue your little stroll until the end of the trail. Once there, you sat down and took advantage of the situation to put your feet in the sea.

Hoseok and Jungkook would’ve jumped into the water in no time, you thought, and you would’ve done the exact same thing. But, now you didn’t want to do it. Maybe because it was a little late, you could tell your body was asking for some rest already, or maybe because there was no one to prove anything to. Back in the city, you had your friends, the ones that had met you when you were trying to taste the new freedom your father was giving you so recklessly, and then you had him, your father. But he was a different story. If you had wanted to prove something to him, you would’ve made sure that he noticed you, and that was far from your desires. Sometimes you wanted nothing more but for him to completely forget about you. Yes, he was never home but he still tried to take your future into his hands and if he forgot about you, you could be the only owner of your destiny.

Your feet were softly dancing in the water and you rested your chin in the palm of your hand, devoting your time to watch the movement of the water. The moon, reflected on it, would distort and turn into one million figures by the simple motion of your body, and you were so drowned into it that you almost didn’t notice the water bubbling up. At first, you didn’t think much of it, it had been probably you with your feet, but the bubbles kept coming up even after you had removed your feet from the water. It reminded you of boiling water, and there was certainly something underneath causing all that fuss. The night didn’t help at all, and you found yourself leaning into the water to have a better view of whatever it was down there. The bubbles were only making it harder to distinguish anything at all and you were about to give up when a strike of light blinded you. You fell on your back, almost hitting the back of your head. Your eyes burned considerably, you rubbed them with the hope of relieving the sting.

“What the hell?” You murmured to yourself.

There was something down there, the pain your eyes were going through was the proof.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking a little to get used to the light again. You crawled to the end of the dock. The bubbling had subsided and there was no trace of light or anything at all there, but you knew that something had caused that reaction of the water and that dazzling luminescence. Looking for answers, you checked around you. All seemed clear; the sea was calm, and there was no one in sight. You started to doubt your own common sense. Your head was somewhere else right then. You had had a long trip today and you didn’t remember the last time you had gotten a good night sleep. Maybe your brain had had enough and it finally had drained out of judgment for the day.

In the middle of the silence, a splash was heard nearby, almost next to you. Your head turned in the direction of the noise, and you saw it again; that glow. It wasn’t as dazzling as before but it sure wasn’t hard to notice. It looked like the moon had fallen right into the ocean. Perhaps your sleep-deprived-self was finally giving up, but if the moon hadn’t been above you in the sky, shinning as always, you would’ve honestly believed that it was in the ocean right then. You didn’t notice how the shiny object, that wasn’t the moon, started to approach the dock with languid movements from one side. The only thing you got to hear from your tired mind was “run”, you followed the advice and backed away from the borderline of the path. You must’ve stepped too hard because of the nerves and the pure panic caused one of the old and mouldy wooden boards to snap in half, trapping your left foot. Your toes grazed the salty water beneath the dock. You were now knee-deep between the timber trail and the sea. While your leg had slipped in the hole you had created, the splintered wood had scratched the sides of your calf. The salt in the water just made the pain even worse. You couldn’t drown the whine of pain that got out from your mouth. Your head echoed that torn sound over and over again, it was almost as if you hadn’t stopped screaming for a second. You sounded pitiful, scared and overly vulnerable, yet nobody was coming for your rescue. It was late, dark and the closest family lived like half an hour walk away, that was if they were even home.

In a desperate attempt to unstuck your leg, you rocked it back and forward and tried to use both your hands to lift your body. Your right knee was getting tired of being pressed against the wood, and you were scared that the ancient structure wouldn’t take your weight any longer and lose another part, letting you fall once and for all. Nevertheless, there was no use. Your lower limb was basically compressed there, and the more you moved, the more damage it inflicted to your muscle. The splintered wood was breaking the first layer of skin of your leg, leaving behind a raw trail. Your blood was probably joining the salty water. You begged whatever was stalking from under the sea didn’t like the taste of blood because if it did, it was being attracted to you by the smell of it. 

Besides your rushed breathing, you could hear near to nothing around you. This little town barely had a twentieth of the population the city you had been living the past few years had; even if you screamed your lungs out, nobody would hear. The few people that lived here were far away enough to hear whatever was happening on the beach, moreover, they were asleep. 

A cold shiver licked your body from the inside, all the way from the tip of your toe, going through your spine, to end at the top of your head. There was something wrapped around your foot. A frozen grip that kept growing tighter and tighter. You couldn’t quite tell if it was because of the cold touch, or maybe it was the fact that you were terrified, but your body refused to respond your brain. You were trapped in every sense of the word; your leg was impaled between splintered wood, something was clutching at your foot, and your body wasn’t responding. The grip was familiar, it felt almost like a hand. You could feel fingers too, but it had sharp claws at the tips. The claws grazed your skin as if it was trying to calm you down. Too bad it only made you reminded you of how cows are stunned before being killed. The touch was relatively melodious considering the circumstances. Melodious since your breathing wasn’t hurried anymore. Somehow, you had accomplished to synchronize your breathing with the movement of those delicate brushes on your skin; inhaling the closer it got to your thigh, and exhaling when it went down to your toes. Hypnotizing. A hypnotizing touch that went in a spiral to your core. Your mind was clouded by a pleasing grey fog. All the worries vanished just like that. There was nothing in your mind. In your head, you were floating above water, a soft tide swinging your body back and forward. It seemed so real.

“Feeling any better?”

No matter how velvety that voice was, your breathing got stuck in your throat. It didn’t make you feel safe, quite the opposite, because there was no one around that could be the owner of that voice. It was literally coming from the dark.

The air wasn’t fresh anymore, you weren’t sure if you were breathing anymore. There was a weak beeping in your ear, accompanied by the sound of your blood pumping through your veins. You wanted to cry.

In your dazzled state, the only thing you succeeded to rescue was that single thought: run. So that’s what you decided to do. You tried to pull your leg out of the hole, again, not caring about the sharp pain on your thigh, ignoring the thought of how the shattered wood was peeling your skin off. You screamed when the underwater grip got tighter around your ankle. The claws, pinning in your skin, were like a shot of frozen, but bubbly, liquid into your veins. You stopped fighting, not because you wanted, but because you were physically unable to move. You knew there was no use on crying for help, but oh, how would you’ve loved to be able to scream until your lungs burned, that would’ve been the only source of warmth in your body. 

You wondered if the wood had already cut off your circulation; if it was easier to chop off your leg completely, but you knew that the answer to those questions was no. You could feel how cold the water was, that hand, still gripping onto your ankle. There was no doubt, the circulation was there. 

At this rate, you weren’t sure if there was someone, or something, that could have mercy on you. You glanced around you, attempting to see through the tears that were clouding your sight, seeking for anything that could be of utility, maybe something you could use as a lever, but there was nothing around, just old and broken wood boards that wouldn’t be helpful. The whole deck was made out of them, and thanks to this situation, you had confirmed the obvious; they were fragile, they couldn’t support your weight...

That’s it!

You took a deep breath, bent your body to one side, lifted your arm, and then lowered it with might, hitting the wood board that was right next to the one your leg was stuck in with your elbow. It cracked, but it didn’t break. You tried again until it eventually broke in half and both pieces fell in the ocean. The board around your leg followed them. You were too shocked to move, but when the realisation hit you, and you dared to look down, there was nothing holding onto your ankle. You moved back from there, just in case, and raised your leg up with help of both your arms to carefully straightened it up the best you could. There were fresh, but superficial cuts all around it, right above your knee, those you were expecting to see. The rest of your leg was rather unharmed, except for your ankle. Blood was dripping from four vertical cuts. You gasped at the sight. It looked bad and you were sure it would look even worse if you didn’t do something about it. You had to apply pressure to the wound, you remembered you had read that somewhere. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

It was that voice again. No matter how briefly you had heard it, you knew it was the same voice. 

You turned around and found a pair of eyes staring right back at you. They belonged to a man around your age, you soon noticed. Half of his face was under water, but you still could appreciate his exceptional features; high cheekbones, blond hair, a colour that would only be attainable with bleach, and sun-kissed skin. But the feature that truly captured your attention was his gaze. You were scared to death. Your knees were ready to give in. However, there was something about those green eyes that made your heart settle down inside your trembling body. 

Despite your dry throat, you dared to speak.

“Who are you?” 

There was no response. He raised both eyebrows as if saying “oh, really?”, and began to swim closer to the deck. You automatically tried to move away, which made him stop his tracks. He looked confused.

“Stay back,” you demanded.

Your voice was anything but confident, so you were surprised when he didn’t move an inch closer to the dock. The stranger simply held both hands in the air, showing surrender, but you didn’t let your guard down. There was something about his presence that made you feel uncomfortably calmed. A little voice in your head was telling you that he was to be trusted, but your body just wouldn’t stop reacting with rejection towards him. If he got any closer, he could easily overpower you. There was nothing you could defend yourself with, and you weren’t going to run off, your leg wouldn’t let you, so you decided to keep your distance using your hands to push your body further back from the edge of the dock.

“Who are you?” You asked again, louder.

The stranger rolled his eyes but he was quick to lock your gazes again with a bored expression. A shiver went down your spine and left a fire trace along it.

Something was wrong, you could feel it.

In a poor attempt of hiding the fear that was washing over you, you tried to get on your feet. If this stranger was the person to blame for your wounded leg, you couldn’t let him know he had an advantage over you. So, with quivering legs, you stood up.

“You’re the one who did this to me.” 

It wasn’t a question. You were almost certain that this man had hurt you. After all, he was the only one there with you. 

He took the rest of his head out of the water. His lips were stretched in an unapologetic smile, but he stayed silent.

“You’re not going to deny it?” You asked frowning.

“Why would I?” He answered, surprising you, “you seem pretty sure about your theory.”

The sound of his voice vibrated on your chest, it almost threw you down your feet again. You knew you had heard his voice a few times that night, but it always took you by surprise. His voice was so powerful and dominating, you felt the need to surrender to him. 

“Oh, the little girl is scared, isn’t she?”

His teasing tone made you grit your teeth in frustration. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Who are you?”

“You’re gonna keep asking that? Fine,” he scoffed. “My name is Kim Taehyung.”

A sharp pain in your wounded leg caused you to buck your knees and almost hit the ground. You had to do something about your injuries, otherwise, there was going to be an infection or worse. You went back to your previous idea and bent down to apply pressure on the wound.

“I wouldn’t do that...” Taehyung hummed. 

At first, you weren’t going to listen to him because; in all honesty, who would listen to a creepy stranger that most definitely had hurt you? But he was still where you had asked him to stay, and he didn’t seem to be moving from there anytime soon.

“And why would I listen to you, huh? You literally cut my skin.”

Taehyung laughed bitterly, and then looked away from you to the night sky. You wondered if he was trying to make time, if there was someone hiding in the dark, ready to attack you. The thought made you shiver. Now you weren’t so sure that putting your guard down was such a good idea.

He kept his eyes on the sky almost peacefully. The fact that he could be so calmed around you while you were struggling to catch your breath just cleared up your actual situation; he was in power now and you couldn’t do anything about it, even if you tried. No matter how strong you thought to could be, he didn’t need to be careful around you, it was the other way around. The only thing you could do was to hope he would get distracted enough time for you to ran and hide until the morning came.

His gaze locked yours and he smiled. 

“I’m surprised you’re on your feet,” he noted, “most of you don’t last this long.”

His tone was so calmed like he had done this exact same thing many times before. You had had a slight impression that he had planned this, but with what he had just said, you were now completely sure.

Sweat was dripping down your forehead, cold, freezing even, sweat but your body was heating up, boiling.

“Listen, I-”

“No,” he interrupted you, “you listen to me. If you want to live, don’t touch your wound.”

You had never liked for anyone to tell you what to do, but in this situation, you didn’t have a choice, did you? 

While thinking of what to answer to him, you felt your knees shake. Your legs finally gave up. Your body hit the floor and you heard the wood board crack beneath you, you held your breath. 

“What’s happening?” You urged. 

“Are you new around here?”

“What?”

“Hasn’t anyone told you not to wander around the beach late at night, dumb girl?” He sounded confused, surprised even, but his tone changed after some sort of realisation. “Of course no one has. Your kind is characteristically stupid, always have been.”

The numbing feeling was spreading at a slow speed. Your feet were there, they were definitely there, but you couldn’t feel them.

“M-make it stop!”

You heard a sigh from beneath the dock. 

“Panicking will only make it worse, and you don’t want that, do you?”

“What-”

“If you touch your wound, you won’t feel your arms in a matter of minutes,” he then explained.

Had he poisoned you? 

“Now, stay still and listen to me, dumb girl. I’ve got something to tell you...”

[iammarylastar]

The Exception. 6. Epilogue 

They had 4 kids, Britany their little Bree, Luke, Adam and Chris. Life took the third back to God just a week after he was born. 

They cried, they mourned, weeks turning into months and Chris came unexpectedly, bringing happiness and joy back to the family.

Stefan stroked the old picture with his thumb.

Mieke and he were standing on the Sydney Bridge, Bree in his arms, Luke in his mother’s. Adam was still growing inside his mother’s womb, little angel who had been ghosting his memories for more than 50 years. 

Cora, as she was used to on each Sunday, took this picture in May 1945, Adam was born in June, about two months early.

They were celebrating the end of that damn war, the World sighed in relief but there was so many wounds to heal.

Europe, Russia had been devastated; Germany and Japan would pay for their faults for decades. Mankind would recover, maybe, and have its dignity and faith in humanity bringing goodness back.

Chris was missing in the black and white picture. He came the year after Adam died. 

Stefan felt a stab in his heart at the reminder. Mieke and he had been more devastated by his lost than any city blown up to ruins by bombings. 

They cried again and again, fighting hell to get up in the morning, trying their best to keep up a smile on their tired faces and raise their other children. Mieke had acted like a ghost for months and all his attempts to cheer her up failed miserably. She closed her heart and her thighs to him, slowly fading away. 

One night where she was silently crying, he took her in his arms and rocked her gently; his chin on the top of her head, whispering soothing love words in her ear as she finally let it go. 

She cried and hit her fists on his chest, biting his shoulder to keep herself from screaming too loudly. She dug her nails deep into his skin, leaving marks, and then slapped his face with all the force she had left. 

Like it was his fault. Like it could be someone’s fault. 

He let her straddle him as she was beating him up, until she crashed down on him, exhausted and panting. He wrapped his wife close to his chest and sat up; combed back her hair damped with tears, stroked lightly her perfect lines, then brushed her lower lips, red from being bitten to blood.

“Mieke, I love you.”

He just said.

She stared at him for a solid minute, reading deep sadness in his eyes, along with hope. And love.

She leant over to brush her lips on his, and then pushed him back to the mattress. Grabbing the hem of her nightdress, she rolled the cloth up her thighs and lifted her ass up to line up with his shaft. Her fingers grasped his pec, and she sighed as she slid down his cock, her eyes never leaving his.

She made love to him, the same way she always had, in their other life.

Chris came 9 full months later. They welcomed this strong young boy, healthy and bald. Happiness filled their house again, along with the cries of the newborn, hungry both for life and milk.

The Kaiser was right; they fought for human rights and equality on each occasion. 

They fought for the rights of the natives, and drove to Canberra that day in 2008, when Kevin Rudd apologized officially for the shameful way Australia treated Aboriginals and the stolen generation.

They fought for the equality between men and women, between all human beings, whatever colour their skin was.

They fought against the ‘gay panic defense’ law, which allowed people to justify a murder in the name of their fear of homosexuals.

More recently they fought for gay and lesbian’s rights, hoping for them to be allowed to get married one day. Love was love after all.

They were involved in several causes and proud to teach this to their children. Goodness and justice as a legacy. 

And Australia was on its way to the fairness she claimed.

Mieke died the year before, in her mid 70s. Breast cancer. At least, he had all his family back home for the funerals.

Stefan let a sob out, it still hurt so much. They had a good life together; they could tell they knew love and happiness. Which he wished to all his children and grand children.

Brittany married twice and gave birth to three girls. She had to follow her latest husband to Perth and he missed his little Bree so much. She called her mom and dad every day by phone or Skype. 

Handwritten letters and much awaited mails were bygone days. He wondered how things would have gone if Mieke had been able to call the Kaiser with her IPhone and get an answer by fax or e-mail within an hour. 

Anyway, the two or three times a year he had them home was never enough to enjoy his beloved daughter and her team, to which he loved telling stories of their mother as a child. She still thought she was born here in Sydney, as written and stamped on her certificate of birth.

Luke had always been a lonely and introvert child, only fully alive when talking about ocean and what’s beyond. He was eager to travel the world, dreaming of being a sailor or working on an oil rig. He loved staying all by himself and told his parents he didn’t feel like he belonged there. He was only 6.

Mieke had cried many rivers, blaming herself not to have been able to take care for him after Adam died, foreseeing their son leaving their household at an early age, which she wouldn’t survive as she repeated again and again. 

She survived though, when he came home at 17, hired as a steward on a yacht, bound for a cruise to French Polynesia. He was over excited, about to ‘live the dream’ , jumping up and down through the house, packing his stuff and shoving them in a big duffle bag.

Pulling his crying mother in a huge hug, he begged, subtly delivering the speech he had prepared for the occasion.

“Mom, this is what makes me happy. I promise I’ll send you postcards from every single place I land on. Mom, please, let me go.”

Stefan looked at the wall where thousands of cards were pinned. There was no country in the world Luke had not put a foot on. 

He tried to settle down in Sydney when he was 30, even took a wife and had a son. But this was not a life for him. He had stayed at bay for 4 years but the ocean screamed his name so loud every fucking day and he had to struggle too hard not to pack and leave within the second.

Chris had always been his favorite. Not really his fav but they always had been very close. Thinking alike, same sense of humour, same skills in teasing and winking, same no skill in taking pics. Mieke was use to mocking them, saying they couldn’t take a good picture to save their lives. 

Chris married a blonde beauty who brought two children into the world. A girl and boy. 

They named their first born Bree, after Chris big sister. And the boy was weirdly called Jai, a name he had never heard before, Stephen as a middle name. Like his beloved grand pa.

Bree had dark eyes and hair, she reminded him of Mieke so much. Smart and beautiful, she wanted to become a teacher like her mother. She was surprisingly -not that much- very skilled in foreign languages.

The boy was the perfect Aussie bloke, blonde curls, amazing blue eyes, sporty, cheeky and kind of a womanizer. He had inherited his frame but looked so much like his mother. Pretty allergic to each foreign language that was not deep accented australian.

He often paid a visit to his grand parents, shamelessly skipping school to sip a beer with his grand pa, chitchatting about girls, life and acting. It had always been his passion, playing someone else, telling stories.

He was chasing the gig, dreaming of a career in Hollywood.

Stefan chuckled. He and Mieke had been very talented at it. Being someone else, telling stories, lying about their roots.

Mieke made him swear to never ever speak about their former life. Too dangerous. The shadow of what happened when they arrived in Sydney haunted her brain and she told him she’d rather kill him than relive those bad times. 

Their deepest secret had laid under a floorboard since they moved in this house, after Luke was born. Sealed like their lips. 

The ID they made whilst in London before leaving, Nietzsche’s 'Beyond good and evil’ he still remembered Mieke’s note and the first page by heart. The letter the Kaiser wrote to save Stefan’s life. The official court decision that made him a free man. Their wedding pic. Few pics of them taking pose with Cora or Marvin before they had to cut ties with them. To keep the secret.

It was a miracle that none of their children or grandchildren ever asked about their roots, their story, where Mieke’s name came from or why she kept calling his husband Stefan instead of Stephen.

The rules of family secrets. No questions.

At some point, he would have to tell his family the truth. 

Stefan Brandt and Mieke De Jong. 

The Kaiser Willem II. The spy, the murders, the war, the run. The real story of Bree’s birth. Her real name. The reason she named all her dolls Cora. The real reason why Luke lived for sailing. Running from Oz to find where he was really from. 

The reason why Jai wanted to be somebody else for a living.

The real story of the Courtney’s.

@captstefanbrandt @kenzieam @beautifulramblingbrains @pathybo @beltz2016 @bookwarm85 @jaicourtneyseyes @oddsnendsfanfics @frecklefaceb @writingismyhappytime @badassbaker @anditcametopass @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995

@tigpooh67 @societalfailure @singingpeople

[dxmedstudent]

dx I'm on my first placement where I'm living in hospital accommodation and I'm finding it really hard to leave work behind me at the end of the day. because I can't get any physical distance from the hospital I think, and I'm doing acute care and don't know anyone's outcomes, it hangs over me. not really sleeping at the min. do you have any advice?

Hello! I can empathise, I’ve had outfirms since 3rd year of med school, and stayed in in hospital accommodation for a lot of that time. I’ll be honest, hospital accommodation can be pretty grim; unlike private accommodation, hospitals put very little (read: no) effort into making it feel homely or even vaguely nice. It can feel like an extension of hospital. And I’ve lived close to hospital often enough to agree that it’s hard to distance yourself when you can literally see your workplace from your bedroom window. It’s also difficult to maintain sleep hygeine when you basically live in one room. For that, I’d suggest taking walks after you finish uni for the day, if it’s not too late. Explore the local area, and find the nice places to be, if there are any. Part of your problem is the ‘trapped within four walls’ feeling that comes of living in hospital accommodation. I recommend looking up sleep hygeine, and seeing if there’s anything you can improve on, though it can be tough when we live in a constricted area. I’d also recommend befriending the other students living there, if at all possible. When I’ve liked who I’m living with, it doesn’t much matter to me what the flat itself is like, because living with people you get on with makes it fun. Whereas if you’re kind of alienated from each other, then it’s more miserable for everyone. Try to get everyone to have tea, or cook together once in a while, it might make a big difference. Perhaps even go out together as a group, particularly if you’re all stuck miles away from wherever you all live during termtime. That’s the most fun part of outfirms; the way everyone kind of bands together when you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere. I’d also recommend changing your room environment to make it feel more like home. I could never get my friends or colleagues who lived in hospital accommodation for months or even years, but brought so little of themselves to their rooms. Like they looked really bare? That’d make me feel miserable.  The only thing I would not recommend is candles. The fire alarms are always suuuper sensitive. But there are lots of other things you could do. Little things like:

Bring a blanket from home; even if they give you bedding, it’s always really impersonal. Half the time it’s standard hospital stuff.Something from home can make a real difference.

Warm clothes. Sometimes the heating really sucks. One particular winter when I was a student, I ended up wearing a scarf to bed because the heating just wasn’t functional at all during a cold snap.

Fairy lights. I also like fake flowers; they don’t need watering or replacing, and they don’t die.

Houseplants. I have several, and they keep growing, and now I have to think about how I cart a 25cm cactus everywhere, but I still recommend  having some greenery.

Get a couple of nice cushions.

Print photos of all your friends and family. Stick them on the wall. Lots of hospital accommodations have cork boards or something, but otherwise they tend not to care what you do with the wall too much. I have pictures of friends and family from a while back, but also graduation photos to remind me of how hard I worked to get here.

It doesn’t just have to be photos of loved ones. Put up postcards you like. Or inspirational quotes. Or artwork you like. Or pictures of cats. Or pictures of your favourite series, or celebrity crush, or favourite car, or football team, or favourite memes or whatever. It doesn’t actually matter, as long as it’s stuff that makes you happy. In the past, I’ve put up my own art on the walls. Currently, my walls are covered in nice landscape photography, Alphonse Mucha’s art, and cupcakes, all from calendars over the years; I tend to keep the photos I like for putting up when I need cheering up.  I haven’t bothered framing anything nice yet, because its much easier to move around loose paper than framed artworks or photos. One day, when I settle down I’ll have proper framed stuff on the walls. 

Bring something that you do to unwind. Knitting, art materials, ereaders,  games etc. I’ve seen students bring their gaming consoles. I’ve had colleagues bring their keyboards. Have stuff there that helps you to relax. It may be a room you work in, but it also needs to be a room that you can relax in. You can’t really relax if you haven’t brought any of your hobbies with you. For me it’s art materials. I can’t live anywhere without something to create with. It doesn’t even matter if I’m too busy to draw, I still have to have some nearby, just in case I get some spare time.

I bought a colourful plastic tablecover because the tables are usually nasty. Now I look at cupcakes when I’m studying.

Your favourite books or films or CDs etc. You don’t have to bring a huge collection, but it helps to have some stuff that makes you feel happy. I always feel better when my room isn’t just filled with medical books or notes.

Bring the medical books you most find useful, leave the rest at home. You do want at least a few books, because your local hospital library will be much smaller than your university library, and they won’t have everything. If you can leave stuff in your old room or with your parents, it makes it easier because then you don’t need to bring everything.

All hospital accommodation usually has things like table lamps, microwaves or kettles. All of them give you a desk and a chair. There’s usually a dustbin. The flat should have ample cutlery and crockery. If any of this is missing or not working, let accommodation know so they can replace it.

If they don’t have a working kettle, I recommend getting an affordable one from the supermarket, because life is miserable when you can’t even make yourself a cup of tea.

Some basic cleaning kit. Even if there are cleaners (there usually are), I’ve always found that accommodation can be cleaner. Making sure your environment is up to your personal cleanliness standard will probably make you feel better.  Since you can’t burn candles or incense, you can get an infuser or something else to make your room smell nice.

These things can all build a feeling of being ‘home away from home’, particularly if you take them with you from placement to placement. As for acute care, I always found that tricky about being on-call or working in AMU myself. I felt that I never really saw the full effect of our treatment, because no sooner had we started treating, then we shipped them off to another team. On the plus side whenever I did ward cover on-calls, I recognised so many of the patients because they’d all come through our AMU. It made dealing with sickies on the ward a lot easier.  The good news is that you can actually follow patients up with  a modest amount of effort:

When seeing patients, note down their hospital number, initials and DOB. Perhaps ust keep a small pad just for it. Don’t write anything about their clinical conditions, you want this to be anonymised.

Or keep slightly more detailed notes, but keep these in the doctors’ office at hospital. Legally, any identifiable patient information shouldn’t leave the hospital or be left where anyone can see it. Regardless, you should throw the pad in the ‘ confidential waste’ bin when you finish your rotation. Don’t take patient identifiable information with you!

When you have free time, go up to the ward clerk and ask them if they can find out which wards some of your patients ended up on. It’ll take them seconds to find out, if you give them the hospital number.

When you have time, go up to those wards, and after introducing yourself to the ward team, you can either ask them what’s happened to your patients, or ask if you can peruse their notes to catch up. I’d be more than happy for students to be checking up on patients they have seen, and I don’t see why any clinicians or ward staff would object, as long as you’re wearing ID and don’t look suspicious!

 Patients seem genuinely touched to know that you’ve come over to see how they are doing, so you can always pop by and ask the patient themselves.

For me, it’s easier, because I can chase things like blood tests or Xrays on the system myself. But even I have to ask the ward clerk where my patients have gone, and I too sometimes have to get a hold of the day team looking after my patient if I want to check that they are OK. I still do it when I can, because it helps me get feedback on my initial diagnoses. Following up on patients is an important part of our learning process as clinicians, so it’s a great skill to get into the habit of.

I hope this helps :)