#scope of visual communication

[thedesignvillage1]

Visual communication is changing how we see and share ideas, especially in a lively place like Delhi NCR. It’s more than just pictures—it’s a tool driving business and creativity. This blog uncovers the scope of visual communication, its perks, and its rise in 2025, keeping it simple and exciting for everyone curious about this growing field.

[heesngirl]

Synopsis : In a city where luxury and danger coexist behind shiny facades, The Sentinel introduces Lee Heeseung, a tactical agent whose life revolves around vigilance, precision and a single priority: protecting the person most important to him. The story kicks off in the midst of a mission that, while seemingly routine, soon reveals itself to be part of something bigger, more tangled and much more personal. Between covert threats, tensions within the team, miscalculations and a briefcase that could change everything, Heeseung faces not only operational risks, but also his own emotional limits. With a narrative that oscillates between suspense, action and a deep bond that is unnamed but felt on every scene, this story marks the beginning of something far more complex than a simple operation: a silent war between the professional and the personal.

Warning : EA/BDG Heeseung x Painter reader. dom! Heeseung, pet names, loss of virginity, oral sex (both), fingering, P in V, unprotected sex, cumshot, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, smut, mdni.

Count : 26k (Part. 1)

The icy wind was a constant on the rooftop, cutting like blades as it engulfed the men in their positions. From that vantage point, Seoul stretched out like a mosaic of moving lights, a potentially hostile terrain under the team's meticulous gaze. Heeseung remained motionless, his body in controlled tension as he scanned the target building through the scope of his sniper rifle.

The communicator frequency remained static for a second before Jake broke the silence.

— System operating stable. CCTV cameras are under control. But, if you ask me, the guy in the orange tie is still my prime suspect, if only for the visual attack. — Sim spoke, even wanting to add some humor to lighten the tension.

— Focus your resources, Jake — Heeseung replied in a low but firm voice. He turned his body slightly, adjusting his rifle to compensate for a wind current that had changed direction. The scope's laser remained fixed on one of the building's upper-level windows. — Prioritize the VIP area where Jongseong is. The threat is more likely concentrated there.

A few meters away, Sunghoon leaned against the edge of the building, his rifle mounted on a tripod for stability.

— Maybe we should start with him. Although the crime here is probably bad taste. — Sunghoon added, following the Australian's lead.

However, Heeseung didn't take his eyes off the scope.

— Sunghoon, focus. South window, level five. Do you see any movement? — Lee's demands made it clear he wasn't in the mood for jokes right now.

Sunghoon adjusted his scope, scanning the indicated area with precision.

_ Negative. Only the service team. Movement patterns match previous reports. No anomalies.

Jake chimed in again, the sound of his fingers typing almost as steady as his voice.

— Section B, levels three and four, checked. No signs of hostile activity. By the way, Chief, how do you feel knowing your lady is under the protection of a rookie?

Heeseung's silence lasted a moment, but it was long enough for Sunghoon to click his tongue softly.

— Come on, Jake. Don't push him. We know he hates delegating his personal security. It's like someone else is carrying his favorite weapon.

Jake chuckled before continuing.

— Favorite weapon? I'd say it's his entire arsenal. Although, Heeseung, I'm told the new bodyguard looks better than you in a suit. I'd start to worry. You could be out of a job.

The sound of Heeseung's lips tightening was almost audible over the line. He adjusted his position, recalibrating the rifle to ensure the wind wouldn't affect the shot's trajectory if necessary.

— Jake, if you keep talking, you'll be my next target.

The communicator filled with muffled laughter until Jongseong's voice cut in earnestly.

— Shut up and keep the channel clear. I'm surrounded by people who would pay to make me disappear, and their chatter isn't helping my concentration.

— Situation report, Jongseong. — Heeseung ordered, returning to his authoritative tone.

— Everything seems calm. Standard behavior pattern. Although there are a couple of guests with unusually calculated movements. They're in the northwest corner of the main hall. However, it could be paranoia. — Jongseong replied, a faint echo of tension in his voice.

— Paranoia is useful. Mark their location and maintain visual distance. — Heeseung indicated, activating his targeting laser and focusing it on the room. The intersection between what he saw in his visor and Jake's heat map gave him complete coverage of the area.

Jake cleared his throat, capturing everyone's attention before speaking.

— I'm setting up a facial recognition scan. Give me a minute.

— You don't have a minute, Heeseung replied with a snarl. He quickly scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of an approaching drone or hostile equipment. — Speed, Jake.

—I've got it, I've got it — Jake began rattling off information. — Man one: Japanese businessman, no suspicious record. Man two: Chinese businessman, history of money laundering, but nothing linking him to terrorist activity.

— Monitor them closely, Heeseung ordered.

Sunghoon raised his head slightly at Lee, his tone heavy with skepticism.

— Are we sure this mission isn't a waste of time?

Heeseung glared at him before answering.

— It's on these "quiet" missions that things tend to go to hell. Stay alert.

The channel returned to silence, except for the soft whirring of electronic equipment and the echo of the wind against the buildings. Heeseung couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. His training had taught that calm was never a good omen.

— Jake, any anomalies in the thermal readings? — he finally asked.

— Negative. Everything is within normal parameters. — Jake replied. His tone, though relaxed, had a slight tremor.

— Something's off... — Heeseung muttered to himself, but his team heard it anyway.

Sunghoon adjusted his posture, straightening slightly.

— Do you have a bad feeling?

— I always do. — Heeseung inhaled deeply, his fingers brushing the rifle's trigger out of sheer habit. It wasn't paranoia, not after so many years in the field. Things were never that simple.

The clock in his mind kept ticking every second. It wasn't just the time spent on the mission. It was the time that kept him away from you.

— Get ready. This isn't going to stay quiet much longer.

The sound of the wind against the building's facade was barely audible through the insulation of the headphones. However, for Heeseung, every detail in the environment was like a silent warning: something was out of place. From his position on the rooftop, the view of the city stretched out like a tapestry of flashing lights, but his attention was fixed on a critical point, a space between the shadows where the pieces on the board began to move.

Jake's voice broke into the channel with an urgency that left no room for doubt:

— Chief, we have activity on the 15th floor. A subject has entered the service area. He's carrying something bulky it looks like a briefcase, but it doesn't fit the standard profile. Metallic material visible around the edges.

Heeseung adjusted the scope of his rifle, the thermal imager highlighting the suspect's silhouette through the building's tinted glass.

— How bulky? It details the movement."

Jake responded instantly, his fingers tapping the keyboard in an almost mechanical rhythm as he processed the data from the monitoring system.

— About 70 centimeters per side, maybe more. He's using both hands to carry it, though the movement is fluid. It doesn't seem heavy, but it's not light either. He entered through corridor 15-B, access restricted according to the plans."

— Behavior pattern? — Heeseung asked, memorizing the coordinates.

— Direct. No hesitation. This guy knows exactly where he's going, — Jake said, his tone now deeper. — He has backup: two subjects in the approach area. They're about 10 meters behind, covering possible entry points.

Before Heeseung could issue an order, Jongseong's voice entered the channel. His tone had an unusual edge of tension.

— I need backup. The two suspects I identified in the VIP area are moving. They're approaching my location. They're not patrolling, boss, they're looking for something... or someone.

The air grew heavier, charged with a palpable threat that vibrated in the frequency of their voices. Heeseung took a deep breath, letting the cold logic of years of training drown out any emotional distractions.

— Jake, continue monitoring the primary target. Sunghoon, maintain cover in the corridor. We can't let these guys act unchallenged. I'm going in. — Heeseung declared, as he began securing the descent harness.

Sunghoon looked up from his visor, though he kept a firm hand on the sniper rifle.

— Just you? — he asked, though he already knew the answer.

— Your position is critical. If anything gets out of hand, I need you to eliminate any threat before it crosses the line.

Sunghoon nodded, returning his attention to the telescopic sight. His tone was calm, but with a hint of concern.

— Understood. Just make sure you don't give them a clear angle

The rappelling gear was cold to the touch as Heeseung adjusted it with meticulous movements. Every buckle, every knot had to be perfect; there was no room for error. Jake, meanwhile, continued feeding the channel with data.

— The target has entered a room not recorded on the official plans. Access is direct from the main corridor. He's manipulating something on the door... Probably an electromagnetic decoder. This guy is no amateur.

— Estimated time to opening? — Heeseung asked, as he secured the rope to the main anchor.

— Depends on the model, but if it's what I think, less than two minutes."

Heeseung cursed under his breath. Time was a resource they didn't have. He glanced at Sunghoon one last time before crossing the edge of the rooftop.

— Cover the area. If anything moves toward the target, neutralize it.

The descent began with a firm tug on the rope. Every meter he fell brought him closer to the heart of the problem, and every second counted like a heartbeat in a countdown he couldn't afford to miss. From above, Sunghoon followed his movements, his rifle adjusted to keep his sights on any emerging threat.

— Jake, give me an update. — Heeseung asked, as he maneuvered to avoid the ventos. The most exposed ends.

— Two side entrances are blocked. The other two suspects are covering the apartment's main exits. Chief, I don't like how this is setting up. It looks like a coordinated move."

— It is," Heeseung replied, his voice as cold as his gaze. He knew an ambush when he saw one.

Finally, his boots made contact with the windowsill. With swift movements, he cut the rope and secured his weapon. The apartment's interior was dark, lit only by the occasional flicker of emergency lights.

— I'm in. Jake, lead the way.

The hum of the electromagnetic decoder echoed around the room like a silent countdown. Heeseung stood by the entrance, his back pressed against the wall, his gaze fixed on the dim lighting that filtered through the crack in the door. His right hand adjusted his grip on the rifle while his left brushed against the knife secured to his thigh. He still didn't know exactly how many enemies were inside, but he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

— Jake, tell me what's behind that door. — he whispered in a subdued voice, his tone tense but still in control.

The sound of incessant typing filled the earpiece before the answer came quickly.

— Two confirmed hostiles. One is manipulating the decoder, the other is covering the door with a weapon. You have about fifteen seconds before it opens.

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, trying to gauge the time with his own breath. He couldn't allow the lock to give way.

— Escape routes?

— The only viable exit is the hallway leading to the service area. But if these guys are here, it's because they have backup on the perimeter. — Sim explained, still typing tirelessly.

Heeseung didn't need any more information. In a single motion, he unclipped a stun grenade from his belt, activated it with a quick twist of the safety catch, and threw it through the crack in the door just as the decoder emitted a final beep.

The blinding flash lit up the room like a flash of lightning, accompanied by a sharp crack that reverberated off the walls. The muffled screams of the enemy confirmed that the blow had worked. He wasted no time. With a firm kick, he knocked down the door and entered, his rifle braced against his shoulder, his eyes already adjusting to the dim lighting.

One of the enemy members staggered, both hands going to his face in an instinctive attempt to regain vision, while the other, still shaken by the blast, tried to raise his weapon. Heeseung didn't give him a chance. He fired a single, accurate shot at the torso, watching the body fall heavily to the floor with nothing more than a ragged gasp.

The second man tried to react upon hearing the shot, but Heeseung moved faster. He crossed the distance in a couple of strides, grabbed him by the jacket, and slammed him violently against the wall, pinning him down with his forearm pressing against his windpipe.

— What's in the briefcase?" he whispered coldly, watching the man struggle in his grasp, his expression tinged with confusion and rage.

The enemy let out a stifled gasp, trying to catch his breath, but instead of responding, he let out a hoarse laugh, an exhalation laced with mockery.

— It's too late."

The radio in his ear emitted a sudden crack before Jake's voice cut in alarmingly.

— Heeseung, we have a problem! I've lost the corridor's signal for seventeen seconds, and now there's a third hostile moving toward the VIP area. It's fast. This is a coordinated movement.

Heeseung's grip tightened for a moment before he released his hold on the enemy, dropping him unceremoniously to the floor. He spun around and hurried out into the hallway, his mind already processing the best way to intercept the threat before it reached Jongseong.

The warm lights of the room, the clinking of glasses, and the cadence of carefree conversation seemed too perfect a setting for the latent tension in the air. Jongseong stood by the table, his expression calm and his posture relaxed, but his gaze was fixed on the two men slowly closing the distance between them.

His hand turned the glass between his fingers with a nonchalant air, as if he didn't sense the presence of the two strangers strategically positioning themselves around him. But he felt it. He knew it.

— I don't like the way they're moving. — he whispered casually, his tone low enough for his communicator to pick up the words without alerting those around him.

— Stay where you are. I'm on my way. — Heeseung's reply came instantly, firm but restrained. Jongseong didn't react; there was no need to.

One of the men finally reached him and raised his glass with a calculated smile, as if it were a simple courtesy.

— Mr. Park, it's good to see you enjoying the evening. —The way he articulated each word left no room for doubt. This wasn't casual conversation.

Jongseong maintained his neutral expression, bringing the glass to his lips before responding with feigned calm.

— I put too much effort into my attire not to. — he murmured lightly, without taking his eyes off the liquid in his glass.

The man inclined his head slightly, his smile barely perceptible.

— Confidence is a dangerous weapon. Sometimes, one small slip of the tongue is enough to make everything fall apart. — the same man pronounced with a certain mysticism. Before Jongseong could reply, the side door of the lounge opened with a loud bang.

The murmur of the guests instantly dissipated, turning into shouts and panicked runs as soon as Heeseung's figure appeared in the doorway, his gait measured but lethal. His gaze scanned the scene with the precision of a predator analyzing its territory, identifying each threat in a matter of seconds.

The first man, still next to Jongseong, slid his hand inside his jacket in an attempt to reach his weapon. He didn't have time to react.

Heeseung crossed the distance in two strides, caught his wrist before he could draw his weapon, and, with a sharp, controlled twist, dislocated his arm with a sickening crunch. Before he could scream, he slammed it against the nearest table, knocking over glasses and plates in a shower of broken glass.

The second man barely managed to take a step back before Jongseong slightly tilted his wrist and spilled the contents of his glass over his face. The reaction was immediate. The burning of the alcohol in his eyes made the man swear, bringing both hands to his face in a reflex action.

It was enough. Heeseung took advantage of the distraction and kicked him in the knee, knocking him face down before immobilizing him with the barrel of his gun pressed against the base of his skull.

— Don't let it show that you're desperate to end this. — Jongseong joked to Heeseung, but he only gave him an indecipherable look before simply going to inspect the area.

The chaos of the operation still permeated the air when the team finally left the building, blending in with the sound of sirens wailing in the distance and the flashing lights of patrol cars illuminating the scene with red and blue flashes. Outside, the criminals were subdued and escorted to special forces vehicles, while the guests were guided to a secure area. The security protocol was deployed with mechanical precision, each unit fulfilling its function efficiently.

Jake, arms crossed and a look of pride that was hard to hide, watched the scene with an air of self-sufficiency before blurting out with obvious satisfaction:

— Well, once again, everything was solved thanks to my impeccable skills. I don't want to say I'm the best, but... well, I really am. — This was typical of him; he was almost always heard saying the same thing at the end of a mission.

Jongseong, who until that moment had only watched silently, slowly turned his head toward him with an arched eyebrow. His expression was a mixture of disbelief and suppressed mockery.

— Your impeccable skills? — he repeated sarcastically, tilting his head in feigned interest. — You mean the part where you claimed the briefcase contained a bomb ready to blow the building to smithereens?

Jake frowned instantly, his smug smile fading a little.

— Yeah, so what? — he retorted defensively, abandoning his previous stance. Jongseong snorted and shook his head before crossing his arms.

— That what was in the briefcase wasn't a bomb — He paused deliberately, savoring the moment before shrugging. — They were containers of a yet-to-be-identified chemical.

Jake blinked, the confidence on his face turning into disbelief.

— No, that's impossible. — the Australian persistently defended himself.

— I'm not saying that. The chemical response team is. — Jongseong gave an amused smile before pointing toward the area where the hazardous materials specialists were handling the contents of the briefcase with safety equipment.

Jake opened his mouth to protest, but couldn't find the words immediately. His expression went from disbelief to frustration in a matter of seconds.

— No... It can't be. The thermal readings and electronic signatures matched those of a high-impact bomb! — Exasperation filled him; he clearly didn't like being wrong, especially when it came to something so important.

— Well, I guess someone made a mistake in their 'flawless analysis.' — Jongseong gave a short, mocking laugh before patting him on the shoulder with mock sympathy.

Jake, clearly offended, turned his head to Heeseung for support, hoping his leader would intervene and back him up. Heeseung was practically his puppet for a while.

— Heeseung, tell them this isn't making any sense. I didn't make a mistake, right? — but the answer never came. Jongseong, noticing the sudden silence, also turned his head in Heeseung's direction, only to be met with… nothing.

—Where the hell is he?—Jongseong muttered, frowning as he scanned the area for Lee.

Jake spun around, looking around with the same expression as someone who had just lost something they were holding a few seconds ago.

— Don't fuck with me… He was here two minutes ago. —Jake assures, continuing to scan the room, but to no avail.

The two exchanged a puzzled look before turning to Sunghoon, who stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression utterly indifferent to the situation.

— Sunghoon, where's Heeseung? — Jongseong called, frowning. But the sniper barely blinked before shrugging, not bothering to show surprise.

— He left as soon as we left the building. — he replied, looking as unfazed as ever.

Jake blinked a few times, clearly unsure whether to laugh or get angry. Jongseong, for his part, ran a hand over his face in exasperation before slowly shaking his head.

Sim, still processing his leader's sudden disappearance, snorted in resignation before blurting out, with a mixture of frustration and amusement : — No doubt... the agent and bodyguard of the year."

And even though it was all over, the feeling that this was just the beginning of something bigger lingered in the air.

The roar of the engine mingled with the night air as the car sped through the streets with almost inhuman precision. Heeseung kept one hand firmly on the wheel, while the other busied himself with disposing of his gear. His bulletproof vest was the first to come off, its weight falling into the backseat with a thud. Without taking his eyes off the road, he hooked his earphones with his index finger and thumb, pulling them off with a sharp motion before dropping them next to his gun on the passenger seat.

Every action was executed with the same precision he had demonstrated moments earlier in the operation. The way he undid the straps of his gear, the way his movements were quick but controlled, spoke of a man accustomed to moving under pressure. But this time it wasn't a chase; there was no enemy on his heels, no threat forcing him to run. His urgency was different, much more visceral.

The speed he was driving was dangerous for anyone without his level of driving skill, but he didn't brake, didn't hesitate even once as he took the turns with a fluidity that defied traffic laws. His gaze was fixed on the road, dark and deserted at this hour, but in his mind, his destination was already clear. He had only one priority.

The car stopped precisely in front of the illuminated building where the event was taking place. The elegant lights decorating the entrance contrasted with the darkness of the night, reflecting off the windshield like intermittent flashes that Heeseung completely ignored. His mind was no longer on the mission he had just completed, nor on the criminals being brought to justice. No, his focus was solely on what was in front of him.

Without wasting a single second, he leaned into the seat and, with practical and precise movements, began to remove the last traces of the operation. He unbuttoned his tactical shirt and slipped his operational uniform jacket over his shoulders, letting it fall into the backseat. His breathing was still controlled, though there was a different urgency in its rhythm than it had been a few minutes ago. It wasn't the stress of combat, nor the tension of a confrontation. It was the need to reclaim his place.

With steady fingers, he took the black silk tie he'd left ready before the mission, knotted it quickly, and tightened it with a sharp tug. His suit jacket was next, sliding over his shoulders with ease, fitting his body as if it had always been there. Finally, with the same meticulous efficiency, he unbuckled his belt and discarded his tactical uniform pants, leaving only the dress pants he wore underneath.

He had planned this from the beginning. No matter how chaotic the mission was or what unforeseen events arose along the way, he had been clear from the beginning that as soon as it was over, this would be his destination. Because there was no force that could make him delegate his task to someone else and feel comfortable doing so.

He wouldn't trust another to protect you. He wasn't going to leave your safety in the hands of a replacement who, in his eyes, would be nothing more than an incompetent, incapable of providing you with the care, protection, and service that only he could offer. Because protecting you was not only his duty, but his right.

He fastened his wristwatch and ran his fingers through his hair, arranging it with the same precision with which he secured a weapon before entering combat. Then, he took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the event. He had wasted enough time, and now, he would resume his position.

As he walked through the doors of the event, he immediately felt the change in atmosphere. Everything about the place radiated luxury and elegance. But what captured everyone's attention most wasn't the expensive outfits or the opulence of the place, but the majestic works that adorned the walls, each one with an air of grandeur that could only be attributed to its creator.

He paused for a moment, allowing himself to observe the paintings on display with a feeling that could only be described as pride. There they were, displayed in the way that best suited them, every stroke, every color reflecting the unmistakable essence of their creator. He knew how much this evening meant to you, how much you had worked for this moment, and although he didn't usually stop to appreciate art with the same intensity as the critics or collectors who murmured in fascination, in that moment, he felt something different. A deep satisfaction that led him to a slight smile.

But his time of admiration was brief. Soon, his focus shifted to what had truly brought him here. With the sharp eyes of someone trained to analyze their surroundings in a matter of seconds, he began to scan the crowd, searching among the faces, among the impeccable dresses and suits, and the golden reflections of the champagne in the glasses raised in a toast.

And then, he found you...

There you were, wrapped in the warm lighting of the hall, your cheeks flushed and an expression that, despite the slight cloudiness in your gaze, retained the same spark that always managed to ignite something inside him. You'd been drinking, there was no doubt about it. He knew well your poor resistance to alcohol, enough to know that that blush wasn't just a product of the festive atmosphere, but of the wine or champagne you'd surely been sipping for a while now.

Without hesitation, he closed the distance between himself and you, ignoring the crowd, the fleeting glances that fell on him when they recognized him, the murmur of other people's conversations that held little interest for him. His attention was fixed on one thing: you.

By the time he reached your side, his hand slid effortlessly to your waist, holding you with a certainty that left no room for hesitation. The feel of your satin dress against his palm was almost hypnotic, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on that detail. Just as confidently, he guided you away from the center of the event, leading you to a more secluded corner, away from prying eyes.

As soon as you had even the slightest shelter from the crowd, you felt the urge to pounce on him, without thinking, without hesitation. He caught you immediately, more by reflex than anything else, and the light laugh that escaped your lips as he steadied you resonated like a direct echo in his chest. His grip remained firm, feeling the warmth of your body against his, the way you leaned in without reservation, with the innocence and boldness of someone not completely sane. Something inside him contracted. Because he knew you. I knew the impeccable composure you usually maintained, the way, even in the most carefree moments, you never completely lost that aura of restraint and elegance. And yet, there you were, giving him a version of yourself you rarely allowed anyone to see.

— You took too long, — your voice sounded sweet, with that syrupy tinge that only alcohol could infuse your words. A slight pout appeared on your lips, as you looked at him with an expression that, if I weren't so used to reading your every nuance, I might have interpreted as genuine reproach. — I came to think I'd really have to spend the whole night escorted by that cheap replacement they assigned me in your absence.

The way you slid your gaze over his face, with those eyes of yours so expressive, so analytical even in the midst of your drunkenness, made his jaw tense slightly. And then you smiled. Not just any smile. A goofball, completely genuine, full of that warmth you rarely displayed with such transparency.

— Although, you know what? — you murmured, leaning a little closer to him, as if sharing a secret. — There's no comparison. You look so much better in a suit than that sad copy they tried to replace you with.

Your comment took him by surprise. Not because of the content itself, but because of the way you said it; without reservation, without any shame. For the first time all night, Heeseung felt a wave of satisfaction run through him, a warmth different from that of the mission, deeper, more personal.

Those words were a kind of relief. It wasn't that he doubted his place, or his role at your side, but Jake's mocking comment about that incompetent man they'd left in charge of your security had been on his mind more than he was willing to admit. Not because he was afraid of losing his job, but because, for the barest of moments, the idea that you might feel safer with someone else had been like a thorn in his side.

But now, with that declaration from you, spoken with complete honesty and without a hint of reserve, the thorn vanished completely. Of course, his job wasn't in jeopardy.

A crooked, barely perceptible smile touched his lips as he reached out and, with an instinctive gesture, brushed away a strand of your hair that had slipped over your cheek. His fingers brushed your skin with the lightness of a caress that wasn't entirely planned, but that he also made no attempt to avoid.

— How many drinks did you have to end up like this? — His tone was low, intimate, with a hint of amusement underlying it. As he asked the question, his thumb briefly brushed the curve of your cheekbone before casually dropping his hand.

Your eyelashes fluttered a couple of times before a satisfied, almost proud smile curved your lips.

— Five. — you said without hesitation, showing your open hand to emphasize the amount, with the confidence of someone who had just achieved a small personal triumph. Then you stared at him, waiting for his reaction. And when the laugh escaped his throat, deep and genuine, you knew you'd got it.

— Only five? — he repeated incredulously, gently shaking his head. — Not even I would feel anything with that amount.

But you weren't him. Your resistance was different, lower, something he'd always found fascinating. Because, in part, he liked seeing you like this, with your cheeks flushed, your eyes shining, and without the filters you usually wore under normal circumstances. He liked this version of you, looser, more transparent. More his.

From one second to the next, you sought more of him. Without warning, you closed the distance, tangling in his embrace with the same ease with which someone clings to something that comforts them. Your body molded to his easily, as if that were your place.

He gave in, because, fuck, how could he not? His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you against his chest a little more firmly, allowing you to feel the solidity of his presence, the warmth his body gave off. His other hand, still tangled in your hair, slowly descended to the curve of your back, guiding you with a gentleness that contrasted with how much he was enjoying having you so close.

— Princess... — his voice lowered a pitch, becoming deeper, more intimate. — Don't you think it's time to leave? Wouldn't you like to rest?

You pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes. And as soon as your pupils met his, there wasn't a second of hesitation in your answer.

— Get me out of here. I have nothing else to do in this place. All those people, the celebration... They've completely consumed me — you exhaled, with a hint of exhaustion you didn't try to hide. You paused for a moment, lightly biting your lip before continuing with the most honest confession of the evening. — The only thing I need now is to be with you. Without interruptions, without appearances to keep up.

He didn't wait any longer, nor did he need any other response. In a single movement, he swept you into his arms with insulting ease, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, as if carrying you like that was the most natural thing in the world.

And without further ado, he made his way through the crowd with firm, determined steps, ignoring any curious glances that might fall upon you. He didn't bother to notify the organizers, the staff, and much less your manager of your departure. He'd handle that detail later, when he could enjoy the shocked expression on that man's face when he realized you'd vanished without warning. For now, his only goal was to get you out of there, and nothing and no one would stand in his way.

【★】

The car glided smoothly to a stop in the parking lot, and as soon as he turned off the engine, he got out without delay. He walked around the vehicle with firm steps and opened the passenger door where you were. Without saying a word, he leaned forward slightly to unbuckle your seatbelt, his fingers briefly brushing the fabric of your dress as he released the latch with a subtle click. His expression was inscrutable, but in the way he helped you sit up, in the way his gaze briefly scanned your face, you could sense a different nuance, something that seemed to be torn between habit and a deeper need to take care of you.

The cool night air brushed your skin as you stepped out of the car, causing you to shudder slightly. You had barely taken a couple of steps outside when, with the same ease with which he held his gun on a mission, he scooped you up in his arms without warning.

— Heeseung! — you exclaimed in a strangled gasp, surprise etched in your voice as your arms instinctively clutched his neck. You looked at him in disbelief, trying to process his sudden action. — Put me down. I can walk on my own. I'm not drunk anymore. — you declared firmly, yet he didn't even slow his pace, carrying you with the same confidence with which he made every decision.

— I know, but I'm doing it because I understand that walking in heels is uncomfortable for you, — he replied calmly, without taking his eyes off the entrance. His tone was so nonchalant, so resolute, that for a moment you were speechless. — Even without you saying it, I know your feet are sore now.

And there it was again, that level of understanding that always disarmed you. You didn't need to tell him when you were tired, when you were uncomfortable, or when you needed support; he just knew. His ability to read you so accurately made a strange, warm, and deeply comforting feeling settle in your chest.

You entered the house amidst a complicit silence. Heeseung didn't stop until he reached the living room, where he placed you with extreme care on the sofa, making sure you were comfortable before separating from you. Then, with the same ease with which he handled any situation, he knelt in front of you and moved his hands to your ankles, unbuckling your heels with patient movements.

— You should take better care of yourself — he murmured in a low tone, barely a reproach. But with that note of tenderness that always seeped into his words when it came to you. — Sometimes I think you're too self-careless.

His firm but careful fingers began to massage the sore area, tracing circles with just the right amount of pressure to relieve the tension. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting out an involuntary sigh as the feeling of relief coursed through every fiber of your body. Unable to help it, you leaned slightly toward him, raising a hand to his face, caressing his cheek with a gentle touch, a silent thank you.

His eyes met yours, and in that silent exchange, there was something that transcended words.

— That's why I have you, — you whispered, your voice barely a thread in the stillness of the moment. — You're always there for me, protecting me right and left.

Heeseung held your hand in his, his warm palm covering you with unwavering certainty. He nodded slightly, his pupils reflecting absolute determination.

— I always will be. Don't doubt that I'll be there for you without fail, no matter what it is. — He whispered with conviction, his tone imbued with something deeper, something that hadn't needed to be said out loud for a long time.

The closeness between you narrowed almost instinctively. Your gazes intertwined, your breaths sharing the same space, the tension enveloping you with an almost tangible intensity. Your lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to say something, but any words were cut short when he too began to lean in, his face approaching yours slowly, deliberately. Anticipation vibrated in the air, and every passing second seemed to stretch the moment to the limit.

Then the door burst open.

— Oh! Good evening, miss and sir. I didn't know you had arrived. — Mrs. Kim, the housekeeper, exclaimed cheerfully, her voice echoing from the kitchen entrance.

The tension between you dissipated in a blink. Heeseung moved away in a measured movement, while you, with unusual swiftness, sat up straight on the sofa as if nothing had happened. You tried to compose your expression, avoiding at all costs letting your face betray the moment you had almost shared.

— Mrs. Kim, please take the young lady to her room and draw her a bath, — he ordered firmly, without a hint of nervousness in his tone. His self-control remained intact, although there was still something in his gaze that he couldn't quite hide. — And make sure her bed is ready.

The woman nodded with a pleased smile and gently took your arm, guiding you with the familiarity of someone who has played that role countless times. As you stood, you cast one last glance in her direction, meeting those dark eyes that seemed to want to say far more than his mouth allowed at that moment.

— Good night, Hee. — you said quietly, trying to keep your tone neutral, although there was a note of gentleness you couldn't avoid.

— Good night, princess. — he replied, his voice firm but laden with an undertone only you could recognize.

As soon as you disappeared upstairs, silence fell over the house. He stood motionless in the center of the living room, his gaze fixed on the spot where you had vanished. His fingers inside his pockets clenched tightly. He had to leave. It was what he always did. Make sure you were safe and disappear until the next day.

But this time, something was holding him there.

The echo of your voice still vibrated in his mind, the touch of your skin against his hands, the closeness you had almost shared minutes ago. He sighed heavily, shaking off the thought, when suddenly his phone vibrated in his pocket, breaking the stillness of the place. He pulled out the device, and when he saw the name on the screen, his expression hardened. He frowned, his jaw clenching, but he didn't answer. Instead, he swiped to silence the call and put the phone away. That wasn't relevant, not now. Not when his priority lay elsewhere. You were safe. That was all that mattered.

Without wasting any more time, he turned on his heel and left the house, returning to the agent he'd always been.

The vibration of the hallway lights fused with the muffled echo of his footsteps as he moved forward. The coldness of the marble beneath his boots reverberated through the soles, matching the measured rhythm of his breathing. Heeseung's face was impassive, his gaze fixed straight ahead as he moved toward the meeting room, the tension in his shoulders barely perceptible beneath the controlled rigidity of his posture.

He pushed the door open with calculated firmness, the subtle creak of metal cutting through the air. Jake was leaning back in one of the leather chairs, one leg crossed over the other, a lazy smile on his face. Young Mi, sitting on his lap, ran her fingers over Jake's temples with an intimacy that had no place in this setting. Jake's hand rested with brazen familiarity on her thigh.

Heeseung barely frowned before clearing his throat with a dry sound. Young Mi instantly stepped away, while Jake, visibly relaxed, gave her a carefree smile.

— Boss... — Jake tried to compose himself, sitting up slightly in his seat. His crooked smile tried to soften the situation, but the Australian knew perfectly well there was no escaping the weight of that gaze.

Heeseung moved forward to sit opposite them, resting his elbows on the back of the chair with tense calm. The way he crossed his legs and interlaced his fingers on his knee gave the impression of someone relaxed, but Jake knew the signs of an annoyed Hee better than anyone. The air in the room dropped several degrees.

— I didn't think strategy meetings had evolved to... this kind of dynamic. — Heeseung commented with a tone laced with sarcasm, his sharp gaze scanning the space between Jake and Young Mi.

— Well, we all need a little distraction now and then... — Jake let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that betrayed his discomfort.

— Distraction. — Heeseung repeated with a barely perceptible tilt of his head. His tone was neutral, but the charge behind that word was evident.

Jake opened his mouth to try to justify something, perhaps to ease the palpable tension that was beginning to settle in the room; but Heeseung gave him a sharp look that cut off any attempt at a response.

— Where's Jongseong and Sunghoon? — His voice was low, but the authority in it was unmistakable.

— On their way. They won't be long. — Young Mi was the one who answered, with her usual characteristic calm.

Heeseung nodded, shifting his gaze to Jake just as Young Mi stood up to say goodbye. Jake, despite his relaxed facade, couldn't help but follow the woman's gaze as she left the room with calculated elegance.

Once the door closed behind her, Heeseung returned his attention to Jake. The Australian settled into his seat, smiling with a hint of nervousness that he tried to disguise under a mask of confidence.

— Well? — Jake asked in a light tone, though his posture indicated a certain rigidity.

— Since when did you become so indiscreet? — Heeseung looked at him with a calmness that only made the accusation feel more serious.

Jake let out a dry laugh, placing a hand on the back of his head.

— Are you really going to lecture me about this? Because, if memory serves, you're not exactly a model of restraint when it comes to a certain... woman.

— It's not the same. — he defended himself almost automatically, in a sharp tone, his jaw clenched.

Jake let out a low laugh, leaning forward to argue.

— Oh, no? So tell me, what would you do if you finally put aside that pathetic self-restraint and showed your lady what you really wanted from her?

Heeseung remained silent, but the dark glint in his eyes was enough to make the Australian smirk.

— Exactly... — Sim continued, leaning back in his chair with a triumphant air. — But then, you're Lee Heeseung, the perfect guardian. The guy who controls every damn aspect of his life except when it comes to her.

The twitch in Lee's jaw was imperceptible to anyone who didn't know him as well as the man in front of him.

— This isn't the time to discuss this. — Heeseung finally said, his tone cutting.

Jake let out a nasal laugh, narrowing his eyes with a calculating expression. He was ready to continue pushing Heeseung's buttons, but before he could even utter another word, the door hinges creaked again, and that's when the two missing male presences had finally arrived. The underlying tension in the air didn't go unnoticed by both men, surnamed Park, who quickly realized that something had been happening between Sim and Lee.

— So what now? — Sunghoon was the first to speak, his tone laced with that hint of skepticism that seemed to be part of his default character.

Jongseong entered behind him, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets as he swept the room with an analytical gaze. His eyes narrowed slightly as they settled on Heeseung, whose expression still retained that sharp calm only seen after a tense exchange.

— Wow... — Jongseong trailed off with a slow, calculated smile. — We've arrived at a good time, or have we missed something interesting?

Heeseung didn't answer immediately. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes scanning the space with a precision that suggested he was taking in every nuance in the air.

— What happened here? — Sunghoon persisted, his tone light but with a spark of genuine curiosity behind the question.

— Nothing relevant. So let's just focus our attention on whatever Jake has to show us. — Heeseung replied, his curt tone making it clear he had no intention of spilling the beans.

Without wasting any more time, the man Lee had mentioned got going; with a couple of quick gestures, Jake displayed a grainy image on his laptop screen. The figure of an individual in a dark hallway appeared, blurry but clear enough to capture the outlines of a man carrying a briefcase.

— This was captured by one of the security cameras while the system was under the control of the hack. —Jake explained, zooming in to make the figure more visible. It was only for a few seconds, during the sudden crash my system suffered while I was guiding Heeseung through the installation.

— And who's this? — Sunghoon asked, narrowing his eyes as he analyzed the image in front of them.

To which the laptop owner smiled broadly and shot a meaningful glance at Hee, then looked back at the first questioner. He added a key gesture to those glances; pretending to adjust his tie, he made them realize who it was. Sunghoon and Heeseung exchanged glances, understanding exactly what Sim was talking about.

— See, boss? I told you, the guy, beyond his visual assault with that stupid tie, never really gave me a good feeling. And I wasn't wrong. — Jake turned to the oldest of those present.

Who looked genuinely bewildered by such a revelation. He found it hard to believe that what started out as an innocent joke had actually hit the nail on the head. Even Sunghoon, who had also joined in on the joke at the time, seemed confused, but this fact.

— So, technically, it's like this... — the squad leader began, pausing dramatically to try to better connect the dots in his mind. — The first briefcase detected did end up being what was expected. A bomb that, for some reason, ended up in the hands of the guy with the tie. Whereas what we retrieved from that place, along with the criminals involved, was completely different.

Silence reigned once again as everyone present tried to weigh the thoughts in their heads, trying to channel what happened into the most congruent context.

— If the guy took the briefcase with the bomb, apparently deactivated at that point. Whereas the briefcase we managed to take contained the still-unidentified chemical, it only means that it was never really an alibi to blow up the building where the event was taking place. It was an exchange of corrupt goods. — Heeseung deduced skillfully.

— But there's still something that doesn't quite fit here — Jongseong added. — If that was the case, let's say the guy managed to sneak out of the VIP area where I was too, he would have done so at the moment I was trying to evade the two suspects who were after me. But then, how could he have made the exchange? Heeseung, you neutralized the other guys and with that, you got the briefcase that was taken as evidence. — after finishing his contribution, he turned to the others, who were also racking their brains trying to make sense of the whole thing.

It really all seemed to make no sense at all, which made them question whether it was really a mission handled fairly.

— Now that I think about it, and it still doesn't make sense. The entire exchange could have been executed during the seconds Jake was having trouble with the system — Sunghoon added. — Maybe the briefcase with the bomb never arrived at the same place Heeseung entered, but rather it could have been left at some key point, and what Hee intervened in was the subjects receiving their share of the exchange, and we always went after the wrong briefcase.

Everyone turned to look at the sniper, as his assumption didn't sound so far-fetched.

— Jake, didn't Young-Mi happen to bring an interrogation report with her? — Heeseung immediately questioned, to which the aforementioned quickly nodded and took out the document, leaving it on the desk. — Perfect. Jongseong, this is your task, and getting me the details later is a must. Jake, I want you to use your skills to find the identity of the subject who ended up taking the first briefcase. I'll be waiting.

With nothing else to add, he got up from his chair and left the office like a bat out of hell. This variant of the operation—although it might not seem like it—had him on edge. But his mind was also elsewhere, and he was going there.

【★】

The lively laughter of children echoed throughout the room, infecting you in the process. Children could be quite witty at times, which always helped make the outdoor art workshop in the gallery garden less boring for you. Your young apprentices had their own way of standing out, and you firmly believed that their little minds were more volatile and profound than an adult's. Their raw, innocent creativity and their interest in learning from you were incredible.

Until there came those moments when you'd rather everyone remained silent, and the curiosity of their constantly fluctuating little minds didn't get the best of them.

— Noona... — one of the younger ones suddenly alluded to you, to which you responded with a soft hum, letting him know he had your attention despite your gaze fixed on the small canvas in your hands. — Can love be expressed through painting?

The question caught you off guard, firstly because of its depth, despite being the inquiry of a child of only eight years old. Secondly, you knew that coming up with an answer, with the most appropriate words for someone of his age and understanding, would take a little extra effort.

— Love can be expressed in many ways, Jin-Seo — you begin in a simple and concise way, pausing momentarily to encourage the other person's anticipation, and then continuing with the formulation of your answer. — The most common way people express their love is by saying "I love you," because that way they are letting their opposite know that they feel love. But most people affirm that showing love goes beyond just putting it into words. There must also be actions and gestures that support the love you say you feel.

You thought they weren't paying attention to you until you looked up from the canvas and most of the little ones were staring at you intently, especially the one who asked the question. Maybe they were interested in your words, or just mesmerized by the gentle tone of your voice.

— So, with that in mind, consider that love could be expressed through painting. An example of this could be when you're painting and think of someone important, or like when you put something on canvas and want to give it to that person, or for that person to be the first to see it. — You added to your explanation, a kind of self-reflection, since while you were saying each word, there was only one person you could think of.

After a moment, everyone began to converse among themselves, while simultaneously continuing with their artistic activities. What you said earlier seemed to resonate with them; it amused you to see them talking about it, when many of them probably didn't understand anything.

— Someone whose art is abstract and profound also seems to have a mindset driven by the same patterns. — A male voice suddenly sounded behind you, causing you to flinch slightly. There was nothing familiar about that timbre.

Turning around in your position, you saw an expensive-looking man in a tight-fitting suit, his face sporting an expression of apparent delight, though you couldn't easily tell if it was due to your analogy, the children, or some deeper reason. You glanced quickly, searching for the relief bodyguard, who turned out to be out of position. You felt a touch of panic, but tried to approach the situation calmly.

— Excuse me, but this is a restricted area. The public is not allowed to enter unless I so permit. — You spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument. But the man didn't seem to be perturbed by your direct tone.

His smile, barely a subtle curl of his lips, remained intact as his eyes slowly scanned the scene in front of him. The precision with which he analyzed his surroundings alerted you; that kind of attention didn't befit a mere onlooker.

— I'm truly sorry for breaking the rules set by our miss — he said then, his tone laden with calculated difference. — But I couldn't contain my excitement… Nor could I miss the opportunity to see you work up close. It seemed like the closest way to fulfilling every loyal admirer's dream.

The term “loyal admirer” hung in the air, imbued with a weight you couldn't quite place. The way he had said it, with a disturbing mix of sincerity and reverence, sharpened your senses. Your fingers, still holding the paintbrush, twitched slightly as you searched your memory for any clue that might justify those words.

Suddenly, images began to emerge in your mind like a series of fleeting slides: that man's face appearing again and again among the crowds at every event, exhibition, and auction you had participated in. A constant but until now imperceptible presence, camouflaged among the attendees, among the shadows on the periphery, observing you with an insistence that, in retrospect, seemed chilling. And then, a name resonated in your thoughts like a distant but precise echo.

— Kang Hyun-Woo. — you said the name with a mixture of caution and certainty, carefully gauging his reaction.

The guy smiled. Not a casual or merely polite smile, but an expression filled with genuine and profound satisfaction, as if he had just received a long-awaited confirmation.

— It's quite an honor to be recognized. That an artist of your caliber not only remembers my name, but also captures my presence... that far exceeds my expectations. — His voice lowered a pitch, becoming more intimate, sharper.

— I couldn't miss the name of an elite buyer — you replied in a more neutral tone. Trying not to show your growing discomfort caused by his presence. — Although, I must admit, I would never think that a man like you, whose profession is linked to electronic systems and devices, would be an art enthusiast. — you add almost scathingly.

— Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, miss. You’d be surprised to know that art is also one of my passions — Such a statement is accompanied by hand gestures and somewhat exaggerated but measured expressions. It was strange, and even more so when I heard his next comment: — Or at least, I could say that it’s your art that fascinates me. Your pieces are simply exquisite, and each one is better than the last. — His idolization was simply on another level.

— Noona is a great painter. — one of the children suddenly spoke up, innocently intervening in this particular exchange. In fact, the sudden childish contribution brought an even wider smile to Kang's face.

— Right? She's simply the best painter of her generation, if not of all time. — he replied with satisfaction, turning to the little boy, who smiled at him as if nothing had happened.

You watched the scene in silence, thinking of a discreet way to get this guy dragged out and finally disturb the tranquility of your space. You didn't want anything too grotesque and inappropriate to happen in front of the children present. Before you could even begin to realize your thoughts and ideas, your savior arrived.

Heeseung glanced at you, then at the children sitting there painting. He knew he had to be careful with his actions, now that he had an audience of delicate little minds.

— Sir, I will ask you in the most peaceful way to accompany me to the exit. Users who violate the establishment's rules receive a penalty, and that will be your case. — He spoke in a measured voice, although the underlying severity was perceptible.

In a discreet movement, his hand closed around Hyun-Woo's wrist with a calculated pressure, enough to cause a subtle creaking in the joints. The other man's expression instantly tensed, his smile fading as his eyes widened with a mixture of disbelief and pain.

— I was just offering my admiration to the lady. I didn't mean to cause any trouble; my intentions are simply to personally pay my compliments to the artist who creates all the paintings hanging in my house. — Kang assured him, his tone forcedly calm, although the rigidity of his jaw and the hostility in his gaze toward Heeseung betrayed his pain and discontent.

Heeseung didn't let go of his wrist. The pressure of his fingers remained calculated, firm but not overtly violent, just enough to remind Hyun-Woo who was in control at the moment. His eyes remained sharp, cold, devoid of any trace of superficial courtesy.

— Admiration... — Heeseung repeated the word with a measured cadence, as if savoring it. — If that's the case, I would recommend that you limit your admiration to galleries, auction catalogs, and your acquisitions. Because if you again take on responsibilities that aren't yours... — He leaned in slightly, enough so that only Hyun-Woo could hear him. — I will make sure that your eyes never again know what it's like to look at one of my lady's works. — The tone was soft, almost intimate, but the implicit threat was unmistakable. The opponent sensed the weight of those words clearly, because his eyes narrowed slightly, and the line of his smile stiffened.

However, without letting him add anything else, Heeseung dragged him toward the exit, leaving you to continue the lessons with your young apprentices.

【★】

Your face lit up with excitement as you looked at the final results of your cute students' paintings. The secondary room of the gallery, designated for the workshop, was full of them, giving it a colorful and pleasant vibe, as they were displayed on the walls of the installation.

— They're getting better and better. — Heeseung comments, as he delights in watching your happy expression. And his delight doubled the moment you turned to him, flashing that wide smile of yours. You looked so proud.

— Yes, they really are. They already know so many more things and techniques than when the workshop started. They're incredible. — you boast proudly, as you walk around the room, eyeing each of your young apprentices' works.

Lee can't take his eyes off you, too entranced by the charm your person radiates, so naturally and effortlessly. Seeing you like this provokes so much in him, and he couldn't help himself, rising from the stool to discreetly approach you from behind. Once close, he leaned down to your level and fixed his gaze on the profile of your face, since you, for one, were too absorbed in those small paintings.

— Being taught by someone incredible can make you incredible too — he murmurs in an almost tender tone, a tone he would only allow himself to use with you. — Don't be so surprised. They're learning from you. It's obvious they'll end up being exceptional in the long run. Although... they'll never surpass their wonderful teacher. And if they do, I'll find a way to change that.

His words make a soft chuckle escape your lips; you couldn't help but find a certain amusement in the way this version of him contrasted so much with what many people see at first glance. The stoic and imposing man, whom many feared, became surprising sweet around you. Yet he still managed to make things more disconcerting when he had the chance, for example, his constant obsession with making you walk on clouds, only to then simply clip your wings, marking the limits of his professionalism.

— What's so funny? — he suddenly asks, looking at you with a frown, a clear manifestation of his confusion at your prolonged amusement.

— The fact that the mouth you use to shower me with praise is the same one that later utters words that break my heart, and also the same one that does nothing to finally meet mine. — you reply, your laughter gradually fading away and leaving your face with a more somber, almost expressionless expression.

You turn slowly, drawn almost instinctively to the source of that familiar, deep tension that usually surrounds you. Your eyes meet his, and the space between you shrinks to nothing. Your breaths mingle in the air that vibrates between you, heavy with something unspoken, something you both feel but that never quite materializes. His gaze, dark and penetrating, bores into yours, as if he could read every thought struggling to break free in your mind. But, as always, there's something holding him back. Something that prevents that line from finally being crossed.

Heeseung straightens with a barely perceptible sigh, his expression transforming into a mixture of resignation and regret. His eyes never leave yours for a second.

— I'm sorry — he murmurs in that deep, controlled voice that nevertheless betrays a hint of vulnerability. — I'm sorry for not being reckless enough to...

His voice trails off, but you understand perfectly what he's trying to say. That impulse to cross the line, to surrender to the inevitable, always clashes with his iron self-control.

— Save those words — you reply, your tone soft, but tinged with a tiredness that comes from the constant repetition of this same cycle. — It's always the same with you, Heeseung. The confusing signals, the words, the boundaries. — you add, taking a step back, intending to get away before that mix of desire and frustration ends up breaking something inside you.

But he reacts before you can. His hand catches your wrist in a swift, precise movement, and suddenly you feel him spin you around and propel you toward one of the tables. A small gasp escapes your lips when your body meets the cold surface, and before you can process it, he slides between your legs, occupying the space left by your labored breathing.

One of his hands rises with deliberate slowness to grasp your wrists and pin them behind your lower back. The other, however, rests on your jaw with a reverence that contradicts the firmness of his grip. His thumb brushes the line of your jaw, and the tension in his gaze is so palpable that you feel trapped in the dark abyss of his eyes.

— What do you mean by mixed signals? — he asks, his tone low and laden with something heavier than simple curiosity. His eyes darken even further when his thumb brushes over your skin in a gesture so intimate it takes your breath away. — Because as far as I know, I've made it very clear that I adore you. That you're my biggest weakness.

The intensity of his words makes your breath hitch and your heart race. But he doesn't pull away. Not this time.

— It's not just words. Words aren't enough if actions don't back them up, Lee Heeseung. — you whisper, your voice barely breaking as memories of the thoughtful response you gave Jin-Seo hours earlier during the workshop flood your mind.

He remains silent, but you can feel the tension in his body intensify. The conflict is evident in the way his eyes scan you, searching for something he perhaps can't even name.

— You're right. I can't go on without using actions to back up my words, can't I? — he asks rhetorically, looking at you with such intensity that it makes your heart flutter. That distinct glint in his gaze generates so much anticipation.

Then, with a slow, calculated movement, you see him lean toward you. His nose brushes yours, and his lips barely touch yours, so close yet so far away. The promise implicit in that touch sends a shiver down your spine. Your breath catches between you, and the moment seems stretched to the limit, on the verge of breaking at any second. But just as the chasm between you is about to close completely, a loud crash interrupts the moment.

Fire alarms and other people's screams echo through the gallery's main hall, scything the air with their piercing, urgent sound. Heeseung jerks away, going to look through the window. You can barely process what just happened as the sound of sirens continues to echo in your ears, marking the abrupt end of a moment that nearly redefined everything, and at the same time the beginning of what could be considered the most heartbreaking catharsis of your life.

— Tell me it's not what I think it is... — you say fearfully, your voice barely above a whisper, as you approach the same window where Heeseung is looking out.

He turns in your direction, his expression indecipherable to the naked eye, and that only seems to disconcert you. Drawing strength from where you didn't know you had it, you push him aside and finally look out the window. The burning glow in the distance is reflected in your gaze, tears flowing as so many years of your life flash before your eyes. Everything that defined you, all your achievements, goals, and dreams come true, were burning.

Your impulsiveness led you to stumble out of the back room, running in the direction where the fire had already spread. People ran desperately toward the emergency exit, while you headed straight for the heart of the fire. Your clouded, thoughtless mind made you see the scene as if it were unfolding in slow motion. The flames rose mercilessly, burning the infrastructure and everything in their path. The smoke alarms continued to blare, along with the terrified screams of the people. All of it became the soundtrack to such a tragedy.

Before you could enter, you felt yourself being pulled forcefully. You didn't bother to look at who it was; you didn't need to, and your brain certainly wasn't at its full capacity to stop and check that it was Heeseung.

— You can't go in there! The structure could collapse at any moment! — he exclaimed, flustered, and dragged you backward, away from the risk zone, pulling your body in the direction of the emergency exit in the garden.

— My paintings… I have to go get them… — your response comes out automatically, which is how your mind was working. Or at least it did until emotions took over and your screams deafened the eardrums of the man holding you. — Let me go, Heeseung! My whole world and life is in there, I have to go get my things! — you shout, abruptly twisting in Lee’s arms, struggling to make him release his firm grip on you and let you go rescue your precious creations.

But he doesn’t budge, and he wasn’t planning on doing so…

— There’s no point in you doing this! — he growls through gritted teeth, resisting your abrupt, almost aggressive movements, trying to neutralize them. — You can paint new paintings, you can acquire new materials and so on. All of those things are replaceable. But you aren’t! I won’t have another you if I let you go all the way there and put your life at risk! So don't ask me to let you go, because I'm not going to. — he declares resolutely, leaving no room for argument.

Without even giving you the chance to insist a little further, he easily lifts you up and throws you over his shoulder to carry you out of that place. As you walk toward the exit, you look around, watching the fire spread even to the secondary room, the same one that housed the creations of your young apprentices, their first steps into art, all those pleasant memories accumulating in your mind at that very moment. And soon, just as Heeseung had predicted, the structure began to collapse, yielding to the intensity of the fire, causing a resounding roar. Thus marking the extinction of that place you had forged with so much effort and taken to the top. It was the end of your world, the death of a part of you that might never be the same again.

【★】

Your gaze remained fixed on the table in front of you, but you weren't really looking at it. The cold metal beneath your fingers seeped into your skin, chilling you to the bone, but even that couldn't shake you out of that lethargic state. The voices around you were only a distant murmur, a background noise that faded before reaching your mind. All that remained was that dense, overwhelming emptiness that gripped your chest like a claw.

The sound of heels clicking firmly against the floor pulled you out of that mental fog. The echo spread through the room like a warning, each step calculated and confident, until the figure of a woman appeared in the doorway. Beautiful, impeccably dressed in a dark suit that accentuated her slender figure. Her hair was tied back with precision, not a single strand out of place. Her presence radiated authority and coldness.

Without saying a word, she pulled a badge from her jacket and placed it on the table, the scrape of plastic against metal breaking the awkward silence. You glanced at it only out of reflex, your eyes sliding over the engraved letters before she spoke.

— Seo Young-Mi. Prosecutor in charge of your case. — Her tone was direct, firm, but not lacking in subtle professional kindness.

You didn't respond. Your gaze had already shifted toward the tinted glass at the side of the room. You knew Heeseung was there. You felt it. That strange warmth that only he could make you feel, even in the midst of a disaster, was there, piercing the chill of the room. You could almost imagine his expression, the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers were probably clutching his own arms to keep from intruding into the room.

Young-Mi settled into the chair opposite you, crossing her legs with innate elegance. She rested her elbows on the table and interlaced her fingers. Her eyes scanned you carefully, reading every microexpression on your face.

— I know this might be difficult... — she began, softening her tone a little more, in an attempt to show some empathy, even if it was professional.

— But I need you to answer a few questions so we can continue the investigation. The interrogation will be recorded. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, you have the right to stop it.

Your hands clenched in your lap. The lump in your throat thickened, making it difficult to breathe. Young-Mi slid a notebook and pen across the table, waiting patiently.

— Let's start from the beginning — she continued, striking a posture that denoted her interest and attention. — What was the first thing you saw when the fire started?

A chill ran down your spine. The image of the fire burst into your mind with painful clarity: the flames devouring the walls, the air saturated with smoke and screams. The suffocating sensation of heat on your skin. The panic. The emptiness.

— It wasn't much... When the fire started, I was busy in the gallery's secondary room. I didn't find out about the fire until it was already well underway and the alarms went off. — you answered effortlessly, your voice coming out weak and ragged. Your breathing became erratic, your shoulders trembled.

Young-Mi didn't press that point further. He just jotted something down in his notebook and moved on to the next question. The rest of the conversation passed in a blurry stream of words and short answers, your mind disconnecting from each sentence as soon as it was spoken. All you really felt was that feeling of being watched through glass.

Finally, Young-Mi closed the notebook and slid it to the side.

— That will suffice for now. Thank you for your cooperation, and I'm sorry for your situation. — she concluded, his professional tone resurfacing. He stood with mechanical elegance, smoothing the wrinkles in his jacket as he headed for the door.

No sooner had he left the room than the door opened again... and this time it was him who entered.

Heeseung crossed the threshold with confident steps, but his expression was thick with tension. His gaze scanned your face, searching for something in your dull eyes that probably wasn't there. Without saying anything, he crouched down in front of you and held your face in his hands, his gentleness contrasting with the strength of his grip.

— Hey, you handled it well, princess. — he murmured in a surprisingly sweet tone, his thumb gently caressing your cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

Your throat tightened. A tremor ran through your lips as you leaned into his touch, letting the warmth of his skin seep into your own coldness. You closed your eyes, resting your cheek on his palm. His touch was the only thing that managed to stabilize the turmoil of internal chaos.

— Get me out of here, please, take me home... — you whispered, your voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

Heeseung took a deep breath. His fingers slid along your jawline, holding you as if he feared you might crumble at any moment.

— There's something I must do first, and then I can take you to rest. Do you think you can wait for me? It won't take too long, I promise. — he replied gently, though his gaze darkened with a mixture of guilt and resolve.

You didn't have the strength to argue, so you simply nodded slightly, your eyes narrowing as he leaned in a little closer and pressed a brief, warm kiss to your forehead.

When he made a move to withdraw, you didn't hesitate. You stood up almost reflexively, your footsteps following his without him having to ask. The door closed behind you with a hollow sound, but you focused only on the figure walking in front of you, his shoulders tense and his gait firm. It didn't matter where he went or what he had to do. In that moment, all you needed was to be near him.

The sound of your footsteps echoed empty in the cold hallways as you followed Heeseung, who walked with a firm, confident stride, as if everything that had happened was just a passing cloud already dissipating in his mind. However, the weight of what he had experienced continued to crush your chest. The images of the fire, the anguish of seeing your world reduced to ashes, remained stuck to your skin, like a ghost. But you couldn't show any of that. He was there, by your side, and all you could do was keep up with him, hoping his presence would soothe some of the pain inside you.

As you reached a particular door, Heeseung stopped without warning, turning to face you. The softness in his gaze didn't go unnoticed, despite the tension surrounding him.

— Please stay here. — he said in a voice that brooked no argument. Though he didn't speak loudly, there was something in his authority that made it clear: you couldn't follow him any further.

However, the way his eyes lingered on yours for a second, as if he were trying to say something without words, made you feel a strange mix of comfort and despair. You nodded wordlessly, as if your strength could no longer rebel. He had always been the one who led the way, the one who took the reins, and though that sometimes frustrated you, in that moment, you needed him.

— I won't be long. — Was the only thing she said before disappearing behind the door with the soft creak of the wood closing. You stood there, staring at the closed door.

It wasn't that you didn't want to wait. It was that you didn't know what else to do with your life, now that everything you'd built seemed to be crumbling around you. You headed to one of the nearby chairs, searching for something to anchor you to the present, even a minimal distraction. Your eyes fell to the floor, to the reflection of the light that slipped through the walls, seeking some solace in your surroundings.

The creaking of heels interrupted your trance, and you looked up to find Young-Mi walking in your direction with calculated elegance. Her bearing wasn't so distant, but there was something in her gait that told you she wasn't a woman you could ask for too much. Somehow, she sat down next to you with a naturalness that surprised you, and before you could react, she was already there, by your side.

— Oh, you're still here. — she pointed out, her voice soft but curious, the weight of the situation not allowing her to change the tone of her question.

You didn't know what to answer, so you just stared at the floor for a moment, not wanting to burden her with your thoughts.

— Yes, I'm waiting for Heeseung. — you murmured, barely able to raise your voice. As if saying her name would lighten something that was worrying you, even for a moment.

Young-Mi, who was watching your movements closely, nodded slowly, unhurriedly, as if she had already expected a similar answer. She didn't pressure you or insist, something that, without knowing why, relaxed you slightly. Instead, she remained there, still, waiting silently.

Shortly after, he broke the silence, with a gentle demeanor and something she might have considered the perfect opportunity to speak.

— I must tell you something, taking advantage of the fact that I finally have the pleasure of seeing you in person, — she began, in the same gentle voice, as if she were opening a window in the middle of a storm. — Heeseung talks a lot about you, about how incredible your art is. He says you're able to convey what others can't, that every brushstroke is filled with emotion, something... unique.

Your eyes, they rose toward her, even though you didn't want to listen. You didn't want someone talking to you about your art, not in this place, not after what had happened. However, Young-Mi continued calmly, unbothered by the silence that enveloped you.

— I visited your gallery once. And I confess that what Heeseung said isn't an exaggeration. Your work has something special. — She paused, observing your face with curiosity, perhaps trying to understand your distance.

At that moment, the pain of loss crept into your chest again, stronger. It wasn't just the fire anymore. It was the disappearance of something that was a part of you. But with the same calm with which she had begun, Young-Mi leaned toward you, as if understanding something beyond words.

— I understand this isn't the best time to talk about it, but I wanted you to know. — she said softly, looking at you with some empathy and a certain regret. To which you simply remained silent.

The lump in your throat was so tight you couldn't speak. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, all you managed to utter was a brief, if somewhat empty, response.

— Thank you — you replied softly, your lips sealed in a forced smile, devoid of any real emotion. Had it been any other circumstance, things would definitely be different. — But... Please, I'd prefer you not talk about the gallery anymore. Not even about that.

Young-Mi nodded, making no further comment, as if she respected you more than you could express. In an act of tacit understanding, she remained silent, giving you the space you needed.

Elsewhere, inside the room, the conversation between Heeseung and Jongseong continued:

— The fire is under control, but the evidence still doesn't seem clear. The teams are still checking, but we have to wait to see what else can be found, — Jongseong commented, pointing at some notes on the table. — Hopefully, we'll be able to better understand what happened once we have Jake to review the recordings from the other side of the location.

— Okay, keep me updated on that. I'll be on the lookout, Lee replied, his tone firm and serious.

— I made sure they prioritized this case. For you… and for her — he added, a hint of respect in his voice. Heeseung looked up, his dark eyes reflecting a glimmer of recognition and gratitude. — Also, here are the details of the past mission and its loose ends, too. — Heeseung stated, extending a document to the major, who took it.

— Thanks, Jong. — Was all he said, but Jongseong understood the true weight behind that word.

Without another word, Heeseung pushed himself away from the table and left the room. His eyes instantly found your figure, sitting next to Young-Mi. The prosecutor spoke in a low voice, but as soon as she saw him leave the room, she stood up with a slight nod and walked into the room from which the other party had emerged.

Your gaze met his, and without needing to say a word, you stood up and approached. He looked at you with that mixture of concern and tenderness that had become so persistent in recent hours, and without hesitation, he touched your cheek with his fingertips.

— Ready to go? — he asked gently, his tone more like a whisper than a question. You just nodded. And when he took your hand, you allowed him to lead you out of that room.

When you truly care about someone, the last thing you want is to experience the pain of seeing them suffer, but... How do you make someone stop suffering like that? That was the question Heeseung had been constantly asking himself over the past few weeks, ever since the day of the fateful fire that took away what you loved most. He's done nothing but divide his responsibilities between his work as an agent and watching you deal with what could be considered the deepest depression he's ever seen you experience. And yes, he's seen you go through many bad times, but this, this was beyond comparison; even he could sense that.

Of course, as your bodyguard, he genuinely cares; after all, ensuring your well-being is his job. But, in his role as the man who so adores your existence, he'd been racking his brain trying to come up with something to help you cope or completely alleviate your current discomfort. But whatever he could come up with, the first step would be to get you out of your room…

Heeseung entered the house with firm but silent steps. The sunlight filtering through the windows filled the entryway with a soft, golden glow, bathing everything around him in a warm glow. His eyes scanned the room, pausing at the foot of the stairs as he looked longingly up to the upper floor. Without wasting a single second, he climbed up there, making his way towards your room.

He carefully opened your door, and just as he expected, upon entering, he found you sleeping soundly. Your cold, dark bedroom somehow radiated the sadness that dwelled within you, the same sadness he'd so frequently witnessed in your eyes these past few days. With light steps, he approached, reached for the nightstand beside your bed, and turned on the small lamp he knew was there. As he did so, it cut through the darkness in the room, and the first thing he saw was your face twist into an expression of disgust, clearly due to the light that suddenly shone directly into your face.

He smiled inwardly, finding your gesture so adorable. Then he simply crouched to the side and reached up to brush away a few strands of hair that had fallen into your face. He also ran his thumb between your eyebrows, gently caressing the area until your frown relaxed and your peaceful expression returned. Seeing you like this, he felt warmth flood his chest and a subtle tingling in his stomach. He liked you so much, there was no doubt about it, he couldn't deny it to himself, not even if he tried.

— Princess, the sun's up. Time to wake up. — His voice echoed in a soft murmur, trying not to be too rude when waking you up. And he succeeded; he saw you open one eye and then close it again.

— So what... am I going to photosynthesize or something? — you replied in a sleepy, deep voice, as you shifted between the sheets, shifting positions, now facing him with your back to him.

Perplexed, he admired your sleeping form for a few seconds; sometimes he forgot how sharp your tongue could be. Choosing not to be defeated, he straightened up to walk to the window and, mentally praying that you wouldn't insult him, he slid the curtains aside, causing the room to fill with the warm light of day.

— Lee Heeseung, close that fucking curtain and let me sleep in peace! — Your annoyed voice echoed in the bedroom, and he could only laugh as he watched you cover yourself from head to toe with the blanket.

— Get up, miss. You've got a busy day ahead of you today — he replied, half-amused and half-firm, reaching over to tug at your blanket. But you were more reluctant, clinging to it and not letting him move it. — Come on, I really have a good day planned for you. Get out of bed. — he added, his tone so insistent it seemed almost like a plea. But even that didn't stop him from struggling with the blanket.

— Let go of the fucking blanket, and I'll get up voluntarily. — you said, finally peeking your head out, giving him an annoyed look. To which he raised an eyebrow at you, not trusting your word.

— How do I know this isn't some trick on your part? — he inquires, momentarily giving up on pulling at the soft material, but not completely letting go.

— First, because I would never refuse a plan with you. Second, because you're stronger than me, and if you keep pulling at this thing, you'll end up taking it off and discovering that my panties are the only thing I'm wearing right now. — you warn, somewhat annoyed. And that last reason was enough for her to finally let go of the blanket without further struggle and walk away.

Obviously, she was upset to hear such a revelation, but she made an effort to act normal and maintain her composure.

— Okay, then... go get ready. I'll wait for you downstairs. — She excused herself somewhat nervously and then simply left the room, giving you some privacy.

【★】

The crunch of gravel under your boots mingled with the dry echo of bullets hitting the targets. The warmth of the sun filtered through the scattered clouds, enveloping the training grounds in an atmosphere filled with tension and constant noise. Gunshots rang through the air, some sharper than others, followed by the metallic crackle of bullets hitting their targets. You walked at a steady pace, but not without casting annoyed glances around, clearly annoyed by the surroundings you found yourself in.

— Really? It wasn't enough for you to force me to get up early, and now I also have to endure this hellish sun? — you muttered, pushing back a strand of hair that the wind had blown across your face.

Heeseung, walking slightly ahead of you, turned his head with a lopsided smile, the one you knew so well and that, unfortunately for you, always managed to disarm you.

— If you keep complaining, I'll make you walk around the training grounds until you forget how to complain. — His tone was light, but his eyes held a hint of mischief that made you frown.

— You wouldn't dare. — you blurted out, with a mixture of disbelief and veiled threat. For his part, Heeseung just laughed softly, a low sound that somehow shook you.

— You think so? — he retorted, tilting his head to one side.

You shot him a dirty look, but before you could continue reproaching him, he raised a hand and pointed toward a farther part of the field, where a covered structure stood.

— Don't worry, you won't be under the sun. Let's go to target practice. — he added simply.

You stopped abruptly, your eyebrows raising in surprise as you turned your head to him.

— Target practice? — you repeated, almost unable to believe it. Heeseung nodded, watching you with that serene yet penetrating expression that always made you feel like he could read your every thought.

— You once said you were curious about what it felt like to shoot a gun," he explained matter-of-factly, as if it were the most casual comment in the world. "I thought this would be a good opportunity.

You continued staring at him, trying to remember when you'd said that. And then you remembered. It had been during a casual conversation, one random night in your living room, while he was cleaning his gun after returning from a mission. You had quietly mentioned that you'd always been curious about that sensation: the weight of the gun in your hands, the vibration of the recoil, the dry sound of the shot breaking the air. It had been a fleeting confession, something you never thought he'd actually take into account.

— How do you still remember that? — you asked, your tone softening without you even realizing it. Heeseung shrugged, shifting his gaze to the field for a second before looking back at you.

— I always listen to you. Even when it's things you say quietly, or details that don't seem important to you, but are to me — he replied with a hint of sincerity that lodged itself in your chest. He paused for a second, his gaze softening. — I can't help it."

You were speechless, feeling a warm surge of emotion lodge itself in your core. But before you could formulate a response, he took a few steps further into the facility, and you had to jog to catch up.

The atmosphere changed as soon as they walked through the door into the shooting range. The sound of gunfire became more subdued, muffled by the thick walls of the structure. Several paper targets were lined up at the end of a long, narrow hallway, pierced by holes of varying sizes. The metallic scent of gunpowder wafted through the air, thick and pungent.

Heeseung approached a table where an arsenal of weapons rested and picked up a sleek, black pistol, along with a pair of protective headphones and goggles. With fluid movements, he picked up the weapon and checked the magazine before extending it to you, offering it to you with a calm but expectant expression.

— Ready to try it? — His tone was gentle, but his eyes sparkled with a hint of anticipation, perhaps excited to see you experience something new, something that wasn't quite your style.

You hesitated for a second, your eyes scanning the polished line of the weapon and then returning to his face. You couldn't help but feel a slight chill run down your spine at the thought of holding a real gun. But when you saw the confidence in the way he looked at you, something inside you settled.

— What if I miss? — you murmured, taking the gun gently, feeling its cold weight in your hands.

Heeseung took a step closer, helping you put on the protective gear, then wrapping his hands around yours to adjust the grip. The warmth of his fingers on your skin made you feel a tingle that spread to the base of your neck. He parted your legs with his foot, straightening your back properly.

— You don't have to get it right away. Just trust me, you'll see you won't get bored. Besides, even I didn't get it right the first time, so no pressure, princess. — he assured calmly, his voice just inches from your ear as he positioned himself behind you to help you calibrate and lock onto the target in front of you.

Only, as expected, the closeness and pressure of his body against yours, his hands on your waist, his warm breath caressing your cheek, and his low, raspy voice— These were enough to make you nervous, so much so that your hands were trembling slightly. And unfortunately for you, Lee noticed.

— If you keep shaking like that, you're definitely not going to hit the shot. — he whispered huskily at the edge of your ear, causing an electric current to travel along your spinal cord.

— Then get out of the way and let me do it on my own. — you replied defensively, trying to hide your nervousness. Heeseung glanced at you and just smiled, giving no indication that he was planning to leave you.

— I'm your bodyguard. I'm literally watching your back to keep you steady in case the force of the shot pushes you back. — His response was accompanied by a readjustment of his grip on your waist. However, you ignored him, simply focusing on the target in front of you, maintaining your position and your gaze fixed forward. — Okay, this is a good position, pull the trigger when you feel ready. — he adds, and no sooner had he finished speaking than the first shot you fired.

The bullet, to the surprise of even the man behind you, actually hit the target. You soon heard a contemplative whistle, and even applause from him.

— I guess it was beginner's luck on my side. — you hasten to comment, hoping to preempt any praise your precious attorney was already thinking of heaping.

— Beginner's luck or not, that was incredible, Princess. It was very natural. Do you want to try it again? — he asks, and with a quick nod you respond, then get into position.

And so it was a second time, and several more times you continued shooting, missing and hitting, but especially enjoying the activity and Heeseung's company. It wasn't something you'd thought you'd enjoy doing, but it was quite therapeutic… somehow, and it helped improve your mood. It was stress-relieving and exciting at the same time. Besides, if there was one thing particularly remarkable about all this, it was seeing Heeseung more open-minded, less stoic and proper.

Eventually, once you'd finished emptying a second cartridge, you began to take off your earmuffs and glasses, handing everything to Heeseung, along with the gun, for him to sort through. You'd had enough; you were even a little tired now that the adrenaline rush was starting to wear off.

— So what next? What else is on the itinerary? — you asked, as you both walked back to the facility's exit.

Then, once you're outside, Heeseung suddenly stops in his tracks and looks at you. There's a slight hint of suggestiveness gleaming in his eyes. That detail doesn't go unnoticed, as does the way he then shifts his attention and gaze toward the rustic training ground not far from you.

— You're going to run ten laps around the field. — His voice and expression, at first glance, reveal apparent seriousness, and after his declaration, he suddenly adopts a firm, almost strict stance. — It's required to unlock the next activi-

Before he could add anything else, you were already running toward the car, dramatically shouting "No," with a prolonged "No," causing the older man to burst out laughing as he watches you struggle to open the door, trying to escape from him and his plan, which was nothing more than a joke. He just wanted to test the waters, see what kind of reaction he'd get from you, and without a doubt, the result was endearing.

【★】

On such a hectic day, which started early, filled with fun activities, delicious food, and moments you'd surely remember forever, the mix of warm orange and red hues was finally beginning to settle in the sky. A few clouds embraced the sun, as if wishing to bid it farewell as it set, the afternoon felt so light. You were tired, yes, but no less happy. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd deviated so abruptly from your routine.

And now you understood why people say it's always good to try and do new things.

Heeseung had put so much effort into it, everything so perfectly planned, from the places you visited, which were one better than the last. You'd never seen beyond the same old streets, you'd missed out on much of the charm of your own city, but thanks to him, that had changed. Besides, the day, although well-planned around you, had also had the opportunity to explore new shades and nuances in the man who dedicated his entire day off to trying to make you feel good and smile again.

During the depressive episode triggered by the loss of the gallery after the fire, you hadn't been aware of how much you'd truly shut down. You'd been so depressed that even making art at home didn't cheer you up. But with this change of scenery, and Heeseung taking matters into his own hands, everything seemed better.

— Are you falling asleep, or why do you suddenly seem so quiet? — His warm voice suddenly cut through the silence inside the car, interrupting your thoughts and recollections of the day. — We're not done yet. I need you with energy for a little longer, okay? — he added, simultaneously patting your thigh gently to wake you up.

The soft noise of the engine filled the silence between you, providing a momentary calm before you decided to say something.

— I'm not one for surprises, and yet here I am, inwardly excited about whatever the man I like so much has prepared to cheer me up. — A soft murmur is your response, as you look out the car window. The city flashed by outside the windows, a blur of light and shadow.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips at your murmur. He knew you didn't like surprises, but he also knew that, deep down, you appreciate the effort and thought that goes into them.

— Just wait and see, okay? I promise you won't regret it. — he stated, casting a fond but brief glance at your facial profile.

After what seemed like a torturous eternity, the car was finally being parked on a sidewalk; Heeseung hurried to get out and walk around the vehicle, going to your side to open the door and carefully help you out of the passenger seat.

— What's this? — you asked almost automatically, confusion surfacing now that you were both standing outside what at first glance appeared to be a well-decorated establishment, with modern designs and structures. Heeseung didn't bother to clarify your growing doubts, just took your hand and led you inside.

The place was divided into two floors: The first floor had a reception area and was a spacious, well-lit facility. You took a thorough look around, scanning the place and seeing how it stirred certain feelings in you.

— Let's go upstairs, that's where the real important part is. — Without giving you a second to react, he was already taking your hand and leading you upstairs to the second floor.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the place was the available space. Then your gaze inevitably fell on the things in that area. It was equipped with tables piled with all kinds of art materials, from canvases to easels, which were clearly new. And the walls were blank, presenting a different kind of canvas. It was like your old studio, maybe bigger.

With tears in your eyes, you turned to look at him. Vulnerability and a host of indescribable emotions radiating in your eyes.

— Please, don't tell me you... — You couldn't even finish your sentence without your voice breaking.

He saw the emotions reflected on his face and how your voice caught in your throat. His heart contracted with happiness and worry at the same time.

— Yes, I did — he admitted softly, leaning closer so he could admire your beautiful eyes up close. — I know everything you lost that day. Your art, your space, your identity as an artist, and- — He couldn't finish either, but in his case, it was because you interrupted him.

— Are you telling me you really bought this place? — you inquire, immediately looking at him with wide eyes, at the same time bringing your hands to your mouth, covering it in excitement and surprise.

He nods, never taking his gaze from yours. He could see the surprise and gratitude in your eyes, and it made his heart swell with affection.

— Yes, that's exactly what I did. I was truly so excited. I wanted to give you a place to call your own again, a space where you could create, be inspired, and heal.

— You shouldn't have done something like that. — you complain, slightly embarrassed, but no less moved and grateful for his empathy and support.

With excitement, you set about exploring the place. The tables with materials. They had the exact brands of paint you'd always used. The brushes and everything else were also from brands and designs you loved so much. And damn, you felt like your heart was going to burst with how fast it was beating, your emotions so intensely on edge, realizing that he'd really put so much care and effort into giving you back what has defined you so much in life and in your artistic career.

He followed you as you explored the space, watching you discover the carefully chosen materials. He knew your preferences down to the smallest detail: the specific brand of paint, the type of brushes you preferred, even the specific texture of the canvas you liked the most.

— You shouldn't be too surprised that I hit the nail on the head — he murmured, suddenly interrupting your exploration and capturing your full attention. He leaned a little closer, his voice low and gentle, adding, — I did a lot of research. I wanted you to feel at home, like in your old studio. Every detail was chosen with you in mind. — He paused momentarily, his eyes searching yours before adding, — I want you to be happy again, here.

— Hey, an art studio isn’t exactly cheap to create, — you reply, embarrassed at the sudden reminder of reality. — I’ll pay you back when I get the chance. — you assert resolutely, but he just laughs softly, shaking his head.

— Don’t even think about it. It’s not a loan, it’s a gift. I have more than enough resources, and seeing you happy and painting again is worth every penny I spent on this place. — he replies, looking at you seriously, trying to emphasize his firmness and refusal to accept anything in return.

A lump suddenly formed in your throat, the feeling of comfort filling you completely, as did a deep appreciation for the other.

— You’re so good to me. — you murmur softly, avoiding his gaze, tears welling up in your eyes.

It was then that Heeseung leaned closer. His finger trailed under your chin with a touch so gentle it made the air thicken between you. He forced your gaze up, and your eyes locked with his, dark and charged with an emotion so raw it almost made your knees weak. His voice, low and drawling, vibrated with an emotional depth that seemed to take even him by surprise.

— You don’t know how much your smile and wholeness mean to me. For once, accept something without arguing or thinking you owe it to someone. — he whispered, and the way his eyes gave you no respite made heat rise up your neck.

The tone of his voice and the intensity in his gaze shot through you like a shock. You felt your lungs gasp for air as, from one second to the next, he lifted you up with alarming ease. Your legs reflexively wrapped around his waist, your arms slid around his neck as his hands held you with a firmness that shook your senses. The way he held you, with that mixture of urgency and need, made something inside you clench.

The rapid beat of his chest vibrated against yours, the heat of his body penetrating the layers of clothing. His breathing, rapid and ragged, brushed your ear as his lips lowered just to the crook of your neck, but didn't quite touch you. His self-control hung by a thread; you felt it in the tension of his muscles, in the way his fingers dug lightly into the skin of your back.

— Thank you for this and for everything you've done or do for me. — you mumbled, your voice breathy and shaky against his ear.

His response was to wrap his arms more tightly around you, burying his face in your neck as he breathed in your scent with a depth that made you shudder. His body visibly relaxed, as if simply holding you like that had broken down the last barriers he'd kept standing. But the way his hands slowly ran down your back, up the line of your spine with almost tortuous precision, made it clear he wasn't completely calm.

— You're wonderful... — you murmured against his cheek as your fingers moved up to his face.

You held his face in your hands and let your thumbs brush over the warm skin of his cheeks. Heeseung closed his eyes for a second, leaning into your touch as if he needed it to keep breathing. When he opened them again, his pupils were dilated, and a dark shadow crossed the depths of his gaze. There was emotion there, something pure, brutal, and blatantly transparent that made you press closer to him.

— Don't look at me like that. — you stammered, feeling the blush spread across your face and the tension growing between you like an electric field.

But he didn't look away. On the contrary, his eyes slid slowly over your face, lingering on the line of your lips, on the trembling of your lips.

The sound of your breathing. His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb tracing a slow, delicate path over the flushed skin of your cheekbone. His smile was faint, almost dangerous.

— Like what? Like I'm looking at the person who means more to me than anything else in this world? — His words were a knife-edge to your chest, each one imbued with devastating conviction.

Your breathing became erratic. Your fingers descended to his neck, and you felt the tension vibrating beneath your touch.

— Please don't say things that make my heart race, only to break it when you decide to return to your usual limits. — you warned him, your voice thick with vulnerability and exhaustion. You didn't want to go through the same old cycle, not this time.

Heeseung slowly shook his head, a dark, intense smile on his lips. He carried you in his arms until you were sitting on the cold surface of a table, his hands resting on either side of your hips, enclosing you between his body and the wood beneath you. He lowered his head until his forehead touched yours, his labored breathing hitting your parted lips.

— What if I told you this isn't one of those times? That no more limits and reality checks. — His voice was a harsh whisper, each word heavy with intent.

— Don't just say it, prove it. — your words came out as a challenge, an attempt to encourage him to move forward, while your eyes were fixed on his.

So, Heeseung didn't hesitate any longer. He closed the distance and his lips crashed against yours in a kiss overflowing with pent-up hunger. The pressure of his mouth was immediate and possessive, his tongue sliding between your lips with a confident, brazen rhythm that stole your breath.

Your response was automatic; Your arms closed tightly around his neck as your fingers tangled in his hair. The way he deepened the kiss, with calculated movements and almost absurd precision, sent a shudder down your stomach and resonated in your belly. A strangled moan escaped your throat as his hands moved down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. He separated his lips from yours, only to trail them down your jawline, leaving a series of open kisses that burned directly into your skin. His tongue traced the outline of your neck, followed by a bite hard enough to leave you trembling.

— I really waited so long for this. — Your breathing was shallow, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your fingers closed in his hair, unconsciously tugging at the strands.

— Too long. — he agreed, his voice vibrating against your skin.

— Are you going to make it up to me? — You gasped, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

Heeseung laughed against your neck, his deep chuckle sending vibrations straight to your core.

—I'm going to make it up to you for every agonizing moment of holding back. — he stated with unwavering certainty, his hands trailing down the curve of your back to your hips.

His mouth returned to yours, this time with relentless intensity. He kissed you with hunger and need as his hands slid beneath the fabric of your shirt. The way his fingers grazed the bare skin of your back made your body arch toward him, seeking more, needing more.

— Too many clothes~ — he whispered against your mouth, and before you could respond, his hands moved up to undo the barrier of fabric with one precise motion, and with that same expertise, he unclasped your bra, setting it aside, discarded along with your shirt.

The way his eyes slowly scanned the exposed skin made heat shoot through your core.

— And I made sure to dress lightly. — you reply teasingly, your lips curving into a suggestive smile as your eyes bore into his.

— Clever girl. — he murmurs, a spark of approval in his eyes. His fingers skim your waist before sliding to the button of your jeans. With unnerving skill, he unbuttons it and hooks his thumbs into the fabric, pulling with a fluid, confident motion.

He slides the jeans down your hips, his pace slow, almost reverential. His fingers brush your skin on the way down, generating a fiery tingle that makes you catch your breath. But he doesn't rush. He pauses to kneel and slowly unbutton your boots, each touch leaving a trail of heat over your skin. Once your jeans fall to the floor, his eyes scan the image of you in nothing but your panties. His breathing becomes heavy and ragged, while his gaze darkens with need.

— Fuck... — he exhales, his pupils dilated as he devours you with his eyes. — I knew you'd look beautiful, but... this is beyond my wildest dreams.

His husky voice fills the air between you, laden with an adoration that sends shivers down your spine. His fingers trace the curve of your thigh, barely a touch, as he seems to debate whether to continue or surrender to you.

— I'm debating whether to touch you or kneel and worship you because you truly are a goddess... My goddess. — he declares with an intensity that makes you shudder involuntarily, his eyes anchored to yours as a malicious smile curves your lips. The way you smile, as if he owned you completely, only fuels the fire in his gaze.

Without breaking eye contact, you lie down on the table, stretching with a slowness that borders on sensual. The cold wood beneath your back contrasts with the heat burning on your skin. You display yourself before him without a trace of shame, and the gleam in his eyes, darkened by desire, makes you shudder.

He begins to unbutton his shirt. His fingers work with deliberate slowness, revealing every inch of taut, firm skin. In the dim light, you begin to notice the subtle scars that adorn his torso, silent traces of a past filled with battles and danger. They're old, fading with time, but still visible enough to tell stories without words. And somehow, that only makes him more attractive. Every mark, every line on his skin is proof of his strength, his dedication, and the knowledge of everything he's endured awakens in you an even more intense desire.

When the shirt falls to the floor, his breathing is harsh, his chest rising and falling sharply. His hands move down to his belt, but before he can do anything else, you slowly sit up, as if some invisible force is pulling you towards him.

— Wait, I want to help. — you offer, your voice laden with a low, seductive tone.

You approach him and, with a mischievous smile, replace his hands with yours. Your fingers slide over the leather, unbuckling his belt with a sensuality that renders him completely immobile. His breathing becomes heavier, his jaw tense as he watches your every move.

— You're making it difficult to maintain any semblance of gentlemanly behavior. — he whispers, his hands returning to your hips, trapping you in a touch as subtle as it is charged with intent.

— I don't want to seem too innocent... — you murmur softly as your fingers slide down the loop of his jeans, undoing the button with deliberate precision. The zipper slides down slowly, the sound almost imperceptible but encapsulating silent promises. Your eyes remain fixed on his, defiant yet vulnerable. — Not for someone who surely isn't used to delicate women like me.

A hiss escapes his lips as your fingers brush the exposed skin beneath the hem of his jeans. The tension between you feels like an electric current, vibrating in the air. His hand rises to your cheek, brushing the pad of his thumb over your lower lip in a slow, reverent caress.

— Delicate? — he repeats, his tone thick with disbelief, his eyes darkening with desire and tenderness.

— It's my way of expressing that this is the first time I've been in a situation like this. — you confess, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you continue to pull down his pants, your hands grazing the contours of his hips as you slide them down his legs.

His eyes soften at your confession, but the spark of desire in them doesn't go out. He helps you remove his pants, standing before you in his boxers, his breathing heavy as his gaze scans every inch of your body with barely contained hunger.

— Princess, I am truly honored to be the one to experience this with you. — His low, husky voice caresses the air between you.

Your breathing quickens as he moves closer, his fingers brushing the skin of your hips, sliding down the waistband of your panties. His closeness clouds your mind, the heat radiating from his body, enveloping you.

— Showing shamelessness will be my way of hiding the fact that I might disappoint you with my lack of experience. — you murmur, your voice cracking slightly under the mixture of nerves and anxiety.

He gently tilts your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. The intensity in his gaze momentarily takes your breath away.

— Impossible... — he firmly denies. — Do you realize how fucking sexy you are right now? Vulnerable and yet totally self-confident — His hands slide agonizingly slowly down your waist, his thumbs caressing the exposed skin with slow strokes. His mouth descends to your neck, leaving a warm kiss before his teeth graze your skin with a light bite that draws an involuntary sigh from you. — And trust me, even if it's your first time, how could you disappoint me, darling? Nerves, inexperience... only make this moment more sincere, more intimate.

His mouth continues lower, tracing a burning path down your neck to your collarbone. His tongue grazes your skin before sucking gently, leaving a warm tingle that spreads throughout your body. Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging lightly into his skin as he leaves another soft bite on your collarbone, followed by a wet kiss that makes you gasp.

— I really want to do it with you. — you reaffirm in a shaky whisper, urgency pulsing in every word.

His eyes darken even further, his lips curving into a smile heavy with satisfaction. He leans toward you, brushing his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His tongue slides between your lips, exploring with a sensuality that makes you arch toward him, seeking more. His breath mingles with yours, his hands traveling down your back, sliding over the smooth exposed skin, brushing your hair.

— Then let’s do this... — he whispers against your lips, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. — Lie back, and let me show you how good this can be.

He gently guides you back, making you lie down on the table. The cold of the wood contrasts with the scorching heat of his body on yours. His hands travel up your thighs, slowly parting them as his mouth returns to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that descend dangerously to your tits. His tongue circles your skin, his teeth delicately graze a nipple before sucking, drawing a breathy moan from you.

Your hands find his back, sliding over his tense muscles as he moves down your abdomen, his mouth following the path of his hands. Your panties are at the limit of his fingers, and he looks at you with a mixture of devotion and lust. He took his time, sliding the fabric down your legs in a slow cadence, his touch soft and reverent. He tossed them aside and stepped back for a moment to gaze down at you, completely naked and trusting. His eyes darkened with desire, but he maintained a tender expression.

— You're absolutely beautiful. — More than a compliment, it's a genuine statement. He was fascinated by you and your gorgeous body.

— You flatter me. — you reply, letting out a soft chuckle as you lean up on your elbows so you can look at him. He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling as he appreciates your modest chuckle. He leans closer again, and his fingers hook through your legs to separate them further.

— There's no flattery involved, these are more than just words — he assured, his fingers tracing tantalizing patterns on the inside of your thighs, causing your skin to prickle and your pussy to ache with need for his touch. — You look stunning this way : open, trusting, and eager. You, in all your splendor, that makes you more beautiful than you could ever imagine. — he affirms, and his caresses become more intense and difficult to bear as he approaches the center of your legs, which throbs eagerly for his attention.

— And soon, I'll be moaning your name, also christening this new art studio. — you add, wanting quell the burning excitement with humor.

Heeseung threw his head back with a deep, genuine laugh at your bold addition, his eyes shining with joy and desire. You never ceased to amaze him.

— Fuck, you're perfect — he moaned, leaning down to place a hot kiss just above your knee, his hand continuing to torture you with slow caresses on your inner thigh. — Do you really think you'll be moaning my name soon?"

— Maybe... — you replied, smiling mischievously. His teasing smile widened at your expression. He knew that smile was dangerous : mischievous yet innocent.

— What if I told you I'm good with my mouth? — He watched your reaction closely, his fingers unconsciously parting your legs further.

— Well, if you're that good a kisser, I have no doubt you'd do wonders using it down there, between my legs. — you respond shamelessly, simultaneously adjusting yourself to rest your feet on the edge of the table and spread yourself even more obscenely for him. His smirk widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Without wasting another second, he kneels between your legs, still grinning, and declares,

— I bet I can make you scream.

— I bet the same. — you reply mockingly, though deep down you tremble with anticipation at the sight of him kneeling, his face between your legs, his warm breath fanning your most intimate area.

Heeseung smirked, aware of the effect he was having on you without even doing much of anything. His hands slid under your thighs, tilting you closer to the reach of his mouth. With the first contact, he took his time, licking and sucking at your folds, striving to learn what made you gasp and squirm. When he found that sweet spot, he zeroed in, his tongue swirling and pressing against your clit almost desperately, causing your hips to buck toward him, seeking more. His lips closed around your swollen bud, sucking hard.

Your breaths became ragged as his hands gripped your hips tightly, making sure to keep you in place as he sucked hungrily on your clit.

— Mmph! Heeseung~ — you moaned softly, pressing your hands to his head, letting your fingers tangle in his hair. Your back arched off the table, and your abdomen tightened as your chest rose and fell rapidly with labored breaths.

For his part, Heeseung let out a satisfied hum, the sound reverberating against your warm core and making you gasp even louder. He loved hearing his name on your lips, and even more so the way your body responded to him. Without any warning, he slid two fingers through your soaked entrance, your warm, bulbous walls welcoming him with a delicious squeeze. Immediately, he began probing your insides, skillfully curling his digits to reach that spot that would make your eyes roll back.

— Oh! Wait... — you whimpered at how right his action was, and how good it felt. But Heeseung didn't stop. Understanding perfectly well that he really shouldn't stop; it was a normal reaction to the unexpected intrusion of his fingers into your sensitive pussy.

He pushed his fingers deeper, parting them slightly, scissoring them to stretch you. He captured your clit between his lips once more, sucking gently as his fingers worked their magic inside you.

— Babe? — he alluded suddenly, his eyes searching yours, wanting to make sure everything was in perfect order with you.

— I'm fine. Don't stop~ — you replied between moans. To which Lee groaned softly, loving your simple response.

He added another finger, stretching you further, preparing and stimulating your sex as much as necessary. He could feel the muscles in your thighs tense, your moans grow louder, and your entire body begin to shake and writhe involuntarily on the table. He knew you were about to break. That's why he grew excited and twisted his fingers inside you more insistently, pressing on that spot that reduced you to a wet, trembling mess.

He looked up and witnessed the way your face contorted with pure pleasure, your eyes rolling back, your lips parted, letting out your sweet moans and noises, and those cheeks flushed with excitement more than shyness. He was fascinated by every tiny detail of you as you were sexually pleasured. He wanted more of that, more of you, he wanted to take you to the edge, make you succumb to him.

And he did it, he got what he wanted, the moment you couldn't hold back, and you came undone on his fingers and in his mouth. Your moans echoed clearly. He felt your orgasm overflowing, your pussy clenching rhythmically around his fingers as you came undone. He moaned against you, savoring your pleasure before slowly pulling his fingers out and giving you one last lick on your clit.

With some care, he straightens and hovers over your small body lying on the table, still convulsing from the aftershocks of your orgasm. His hand lovingly caresses your face. His thumb runs over your flushed cheek as he watches you come down from your high. A satisfied smile touches his lips, knowing he's the reason for that dazed expression. He leans down and kisses you on the lips, hindering your attempt to catch your breath.

— Is my precious lady okay? — he asks as soon as he finishes kissing you. His voice is soothing and genuinely concerned for you.

— Don't worry, I'm okay. That was amazing, really good. — you reply breathlessly, still struggling to catch your breath, but there's a note of pleasure underneath.

A spark of pride lights his eyes at the sound of you, and the arc of his smile widens slightly. His gaze descends with deliberate slowness, tracing the contours of your naked body with a palpable desire that makes your skin prickle under his scrutiny. His hands still frame your face, but the heat of his palms seems to penetrate deeper, igniting something still burning inside you.

— I'm glad you liked it, baby. — he whispers with satisfaction.

The tension in the air thickens as you reach for him, sliding them over the skin of his abdomen to the beginning of his boxers. A strangled gasp escapes his lips when you hook your fingers in the elastic waistband, and his breath catches. The intensity in his gaze deepens, darkening with a desire that seems to consume the air between you.

He steps back slightly and allows you to pull the garment down, without resistance. His erect member springs free and stands against his abdomen.

— It’s your turn… — you declare with a softness laden with intent, your fingers tracing a lazy path up his hip. He looks up at you as you cup his erection in your hand and stroke it gently.

His chest expands with a heavy inhale as your fingers close around his thickness, and the way you position yourself on the edge of the table, lying sideways, while you move your hand up and down his penis. He tangles his fingers in your hair as you stroke him, and a moan escapes his throat. The sight of you completely naked and touching him is almost unbearable; he could burst and spill just looking at you.

— Am I doing this right? — you ask, looking up at him with bright eyes, full of excitement and innocence, causing his own eyes to soften at your question, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

— You're perfect... — he assures without hesitation, and lowers his hand to yours on his member, showing you the perfect rhythm and pressure, the thing that drives him the most crazy. — Just like that. Fuck, you're good at this.

You suddenly see his free hand slide with delicious delicacy between your legs and his fingers caress the wet lips of your pussy, still sensitive from the orgasm he made you have with his mouth. Meanwhile, you continue pumping his length.

— Hey, you're supposed to be the one receiving now. — you chide, giving him a reproachful look, and he chuckles, his fingers stroking your folds possessively.

— Shh~ I'm enjoying it. — he mumbles. His hips buck slightly against your hand, almost fucking your fist. He feels him getting close, but he also wants you to squirm for him.

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself moaning; his fingers plunged in again without reservation, bursting into your pussy, caressing your walls, feeling them clench just like before. But he wasn't the only one doing more. In an unexpected move, you took his cock into your mouth, taking what you could, relaxing your jaw to accommodate him properly, at the same time parting your legs so he could better insert his fingers while you sucked him off.

His eyes widened in surprise and pleasure the instant you took him into your mouth, your wet, warm heat enveloping him completely. He let out a throaty moan, and his fingers thrust in and out at a steady, merciless pace, fervently rubbing against your walls, feeling them tighten and throb.

This was better than anything he'd ever experienced. Which led him to declare :

— You're going to be the death of me, I'm taking it for granted."

But your simple response was to moan around his cock, sucking more eagerly with each passing second, enjoying his reactions, the kinky wet sounds, and at the same time, how his fingers so expertly fuck your pussy. Heeseung stares at you with devotion as you suck him off relentlessly, his fingers sinking deeper into your heat, reaching that point that makes you choke around his member. He's never seen anything sexier in his entire life. Or maybe it was the effect produced by the simple fact that it was you. And, as if seeking to end his sanity, you tilt your head off the table, trying to take more of him into your mouth.

You seemed to like this much more than either of you could have expected.

His cock throbs against your tongue as you take him deeper, almost gagging, completely ignoring any gagging. Leaving him amazed by your enthusiasm and skill. With a moan, he curls his fingers inside you, precisely caressing that magical spot that makes your whole body shudder.

— Princess, you're going to make me cum... — he growls through gritted teeth.

You pull out of your mouth for a moment, just to catch your breath, but you don't stop servicing him with your hand, running your hands up and down the hot, saliva-covered skin. Your lips feel swollen and wet, but moaning while he continues to make you see stars with his fingers distracts you. Heeseung looks at you, his face flushed, his lips swollen, his hand moving rapidly over his length. He can't hold back any longer.

— Cum with me. — he demands between heavy exhales, and simultaneously, his fingers speed up the pace inside you, thrusting in and out relentlessly, making you moan loudly. But you take him back into your mouth, sucking the tip steadily while you continue to move your hand along the rest of his length.

He rolls his eyes as you take him again, your hand and mouth in perfect harmony. He feels his release creeping in, his balls tightening. He lets out a strangled cry as he feels you suck harder and your tongue swirl around the tip. And just like that, your body convulses once more, consumed by ecstasy, and you cum on his fingers as he spills into your mouth, his hot, salty semen filling you and running down your throat.

He's never experienced an ejaculation so intense, so satisfying. He keeps thrusting his fingers into you through the orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until you're a quivering, panting mess on the table.

— Fuck, that was… — He’s unable to finish the sentence, his voice cut off by a heavy gasp, caused by the intense aftershocks that ravage your body.

For your part, you move away from his penis and lie back, tired and exhausted, on the table. Lee is about to make sure you’re okay, but, to both of your misfortunes, his cell phone rings, and you both sigh in frustration. However, he picks up the device and turns it off, completely ignoring the unwelcome call, his attention focused solely on you. No one was going to ruin his perfect moment.

He gently removes his fingers and brings them to his mouth to clean them with his tongue, once again delighting in the exquisiteness of your warm essence. He watches you lie there, exhausted and satisfied. A smile spreads across his lips as he realizes how intense it was.

— Are you okay, baby girl? — he questions, looking at you closely, studying you, wanting to assure you that only pleasure and comfort were what you were feeling. And luckily, your answer reassured him.

— I can assure you, I'm more than fine — you reply in a soft, smiling voice. You hear him sigh with satisfaction, and his thumb gently strokes your hipbone, in a gesture that is both tender and possessive. — How are you?

— I'm fucking great, princess. I've never felt anything like this — he admits in a voice somewhere between astonished and satisfied; he really does seem so happy. — You're incredible, did you know that? — he adds in a tone full of admiration.

—I'm glad I did well. — you reply, smiling proudly at yourself. To which Heeseung laughs softly and leans in to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then another on your nose, and finally a longer one on your lips.

— You were more than 'well'. You blew my mind — he replies after breaking away from the kiss. His hand slides from your hip to your waist, holding you firmly. — But... — Suddenly, he drags you to the edge of the table and spreads your legs, his eyes darkening with renewed desire. He can't get enough of you, and it doesn't look like he's going to anytime soon. — I can't just let you lie there looking so sexy and not do something about it. — he states in a low, husky voice, causing you to shudder.

— Oh, that wouldn't be acceptable, would it? — you respond playfully, playing along. The older man smiles mischievously, his hands running down your legs to the inside of your thighs.

— No, it wouldn't be. After all, my job is to protect you. And right now, I need to protect you from being neglected. — He positions himself between your legs and opens them wider, making the necessary space for himself, as he takes his member in his hand and strokes its tip against your sensitive clit, moving down your wet slit, collecting your juices, before repeating the motion a few times.

He watches your expression closely as he strokes your pussy with his tip, his eyes dark with desire and something softer, almost gentle. He knows he's about to pluck the petals of your innocence, and despite his dominant nature, he wants this moment to be special for you.

— I want your eyes on me, gorgeous. — More than a request, it's really a command, laced with his need to capture your expression the moment he finally goes further.

He watches the way you sit almost upright and bring your hands to his back, your delicate fingers digging into his skin, clinging to his body. He leans closer to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist to support you. He continues stroking your clit with his glans, spreading your wetness and increasing your anticipation. He catches you with his gaze, his eyes boring into yours.

— You're mine now, okay? This changes everything. — His voice is deep, filled with a mixture of possessiveness and vulnerability.

— I've always been yours. — you gasp softly, and his eyes soften at your words, a surge of emotion mingling with his arousal.

He leans down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, trying to keep you distracted as he finally fits himself against your wet entrance. His tip presses against you with eager insistence, slowly beginning to push in, until, with a gentle but firm push, he pierces your hymen, eliciting a stifled cry from both of you. The sensation of encasing himself in your tight heat makes him see stars too, but he struggles to hold back a little.

— It's okay, it's okay, babe. I know it hurts, but you'll feel amazing soon... — Still against your mouth, he whispers those reassuring words, one hand stroking your hair while the other grips your hips tightly. He begins to move slowly, giving your body time to adjust to his size.

— Heeseung~ — you moan, deeply enraptured as he goes deeper and deeper, deliciously filling and stretching your tight pussy. His control almost breaks at the sound of your moans mixed with his name.

One of his hands moves to your ass, squeezing it possessively, tilting your hips to get a deeper angle. His hips thrust gently but firmly, his swollen member sliding in and out of you in unnecessary movements. He watches in fascination as you lie back again, arching your back and spreading your legs wider to better fit him. He uses that moment to push himself deeper between them and, holding them, wraps them around his waist. He slides an arm under your back, holding you and allowing you to arch fully.

— Look at us, look how well you take me, princess. — he pants, keeping his gaze down between your legs, watching his cock fill you.

— I'm liking taking you~ — you moan softly, your voice slipping like a hot whisper in the air.

After listening to you, he begins to move more deliberately, each thrust measured but intense, searching for the perfect rhythm to make you enjoy yourself. One hand moves between your thighs, searching for your clit with skillful fingers. The contact makes your body shudder, and your moans become more frequent.

— Can you hold out longer, baby? — he asks, his voice low and raspy, as he gently rubs around your sensitive bud, continuing to thrust. His hot breath glides over your skin, making you feel like you're on fire inside.

— Yes, love. Yes, I can. — you respond ecstatically, oblivious to shyness, as your body arches toward him, seeking more contact, more pressure. Your voice is a desperate whisper, a call for him to take you further, deeper.

However, hearing you call him "love" triggers a excitement is on the edge, and his movements become frantic, more intense.

— Say it again... — he demands, his voice muffled against your breasts, as his tongue glides over one of your hardened peaks, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He begins to thrust faster, deeper, hitting spots inside you that make you moan and feel like you're about to fall apart.

— It can't be that you like a simple nickname so much. — You giggle lightly between moans, as your body moves to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your hands clutch at his back, searching for something to hold on to. Heeseung laughs breathlessly, his breath hot against your chest.

— It's not just a nickname when you say it — He lifts his head to look into your eyes, his hips never stopping their rhythmic movements, as his hand slides over your skin, searching for sensitive spots, seeking to make you feel alive. — You calling me 'love' makes me feel like you're giving me something precious.

— Well, I'm giving you all of me, love... — you murmur thoughtfully, as your body surrenders to him, as your soul opens, offering itself. Your voice is a desperate whisper, a call for him to take you, to make you his completely.

His breath catches at your words, emotion overwhelms his lust for a moment, and his movements stop. Then, he kisses you deeply, desperately, pouring all his feelings into the kiss, as his tongue slides over yours, his teeth capture your lower lip in a sweet bite that makes you gasp. When he pulls back, he looks at you, his eyes intense, full of emotion.

— Then I'm very lucky, because you're the most precious thing anyone has ever given me. — His voice is gentle, a murmur of gratitude, of love.

— Come here. — you gasp, taking his face in your hands and pulling him in for a kiss, to feel his warmth. Your mouth opens and his tongue slides inside.

He lifts you slightly, both hands on your hips, moving them off the table to change the angle, and his cock hits a spot inside you that almost makes you scream into his mouth. The air escapes your lungs in a ragged gasp, and your legs tense around his waist, trying to keep him inside you.

You look into his eyes, your pupils dilated, filled with adoration and mutual desire. You keep your hand on his face, caressing his cheek, while you moan at his precise, deep penetrations. His gaze is like a magnet, attracting yours, and you feel lost in the abyss of his eyes. His lips curve into a smile, and his tongue comes out to lick your lips, as if he's savoring their taste.

— You look at me as if I'm the only thing you see. —He whispers, his voice husky with arousal.

— And you are. —You gasp softly in reply, your words like a trigger that breaks his control.

He starts moving faster, harder, his hips slamming into yours. The table creaks beneath you, but he doesn't slow down. He loses himself in your eyes, in the feeling of your pussy surrounding him, in the sound of your voice. His breathing is ragged, and his chest rises and falls rapidly.

— Heeseung… — His name amid your moans echoes throughout the room, as do the sounds of skin against skin with each thrust.

Your voice is like a chant, a hymn to the passion that consumes you, as he continues hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. The sensation is like a tsunami, a wave of pleasure that drags you toward the abyss.

— Louder… — he growls, his hands squeezing your thighs, spreading them as far as he can, and his cock drives deeper into you. You feel like you’re being torn apart by passion, like your body is being consumed by the intensity surrounding them. — Say my name again.

— Ah! Heeseung! — you whimper, your voice like a scream of release that echoes through the spacious studio. The orgasm is searing. But he doesn’t stop, he keeps moving, keeps driving his member into you, relentlessly.

He watches your face contort with pleasure, your mouth open in a silent scream. He sees your chest rise and fall rapidly, hears your soft moans. But instead of slowing down, he goes faster, penetrating you mercilessly. He wants another, another cry of ecstasy, another orgasm. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it in firm but gentle circles, trying to coax all the pleasure he can from your body.

— Hee~ — you whine pitifully, due to the overstimulation. He smiles devilishly, knowing exactly what those moans mean, but still continues his rhythm.

— One more, baby. Give me one more. You can take it... I know it. — He pants, sweat dripping from his forehead. His voice is like a challenge to your resistance.

— But I want you to cum too. — Your voice is almost a whisper. You really want him to release himself, to let himself go completely and lose himself in the abyss of lust where they're suspended.

His eyes nearly roll back at your words, as a wave of desire overwhelms him and drags him closer to the shore. He bites his lower lip, fighting to contain his own ejaculation, the throbbing desire that threatens to spill over.

— Not until you do it again. — he growls, his jaw clenched, his voice deep and thick with need. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, feeling your body tremble beneath his touch.

— Then cum with me. — you beg, your moans intertwining with the urgency of your words.

His eyes darken with intense desire, and he nods, unable to resist your plea. He adjusts the angle slightly, relentlessly hitting that perfect spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

— Let's cum together, my princess. — he growls with a possessive tone, his movements becoming more urgent, primal, as if each thrust demands your total surrender.

You moan loudly once more, tightening your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his forearms, feeling the strength of his body against yours. At the sound of his name on your lips, he loses control completely. With a loud grunt, he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, and his entire body tenses as he reaches climax. He feels another orgasm wash over you, your throbbing walls enveloping him, triggering his own release.

He swallows your screams, his lips devouring yours in a deep, ravenous kiss. Your bodies convulse against each other, his hot seed filling your insides, as a soft groan escapes his lips, another wave of pleasure hits him, and your inner muscles squeeze him dry. He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, watching as you crumble again, lost in euphoria.

— I love you~ — you gasp softly, a surge of vulnerability floating in the air. Your confession seems to stop time. His eyes, dark and deep, bore into yours with overwhelming intensity, filled with wonder and adoration.

Something in him shudders, as if your words have pierced every layer of his being, reaching a place no one else has ever touched before. His body still trembles with the aftershocks of his relentless passion, and yet it's your declaration that truly takes his breath away. Slowly, a smile spreads across his face, the most beautiful and genuine you've ever seen. But the silence between you lengthens, and uncertainty begins to settle in your chest.

— Why aren't you answering? — you ask in a whisper, the echo of your fear resonating between you both.

He doesn't answer right away. Instead, his fingers find your face with infinite tenderness, his thumbs gently wiping away the sweat and tears of pleasure gathering at the corners of your eyes. His touch is reverent, as if you were something sacred.

— Because I'm still trying to process that you just said those three words to me. — His voice is a husky whisper, thick with emotion. He takes a deep breath, never taking his eyes off yours, finding in them all the answers he didn't know he needed.

— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. — you excuse yourself timidly, but before insecurity can take hold, he shakes his head, a soft laugh escaping his lips. And then he kisses you.

It’s not just a kiss. It’s a refuge, a silent promise, an absolute surrender. You pour all your emotions into it. He kisses you with a devotion that rekindles the spark between you, dispelling any doubts. When he finally breaks away, his forehead rests on yours, his eyes closed tightly, as if afraid that when he opens them, this moment might vanish. But you’re there. He’s there. And nothing in the world could make this moment cease to exist.

— You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words from you, so don’t apologize — he whispers, his voice imbued with a sincerity that envelops you like a caress. His gaze shines with a mixture of relief and suppressed emotion.

— I really wanted to say them. — you murmur softly, brushing your nose against his in a tender and complicit gesture.

His reaction is immediate. He wraps you in his arms with a strength that doesn't seek to possess, but to hold you, wanting to reassure himself that you are real, that this moment isn't a fleeting dream. His body relaxes in the embrace, for the first time in a long time, finding true peace. The warmth he radiates is comforting, enveloping, and in that contact he understands: these aren't just words. They are an absolute truth, as undeniable as the way your heart beats in unison with his.

A soft smile spreads across his face, his eyes crinkling tenderly as he absorbs every nuance of this moment. But the intensity of his love, this longing he's harbored for so long, compels him to seek confirmation.

— Are you serious? — His voice is a deep whisper, thick with emotion, while his eyes cling to yours with quiet desperation. He needs to hear it again. He needs to know this is real.

— I'm completely serious, Heeseung. I love you. — you repeat firmly, letting each word resonate with truth, with the strength of a feeling that leaves no room for doubt.

Something in him breaks and mends itself at the same time. His lips part slightly, as if he wants to respond immediately, but the torrent of emotion is too much. A single tear slides down his cheek, a silent witness to the impact of your words. He takes a deep breath, trying to stem the avalanche of feelings, but his voice trembles when he finally lets out the answer he's been keeping deep inside.

— I love you too. — In those four words, filled with an indescribable intensity, his whole world aligns with yours.

Your heart beats frantically at just hearing it, the butterflies in your stomach flutter, but there's something else that captures your attention in that instant.

— I guess you're not the only one who loves me. — you comment, amused, feeling his desire renewed inside you, his cock hardening once more.

He chuckles softly, a deep sound that resonates in his chest, filled with satisfaction. He gently moves his hips, teasing you with his renewed hardness.

— It seems so. And it also seems like I'll have a hard time tiring of you, too. — he says, his voice husky with desire, thick with palpable lust.

— I want you to bend me over this table and take me from behind. — you gasp softly, each word professing desire.

His body shudders at your heated words, his member throbbing urgently inside you. With a grunt of pure pleasure, he slowly withdraws, enjoying the exquisite friction of each brush as his manhood slides out of your cushioned, warm walls. In one swift, determined movement, he lifts you off the table, turns you over, and bends you over the wooden surface, pressing your tits against it.

Suddenly, you feel the impact of his hand on your buttock, a blow that makes you shudder and moan in surprise, but that ends up resulting in a delicious stinging sensation. He smiles wickedly at your words, loving with some morbidity the pinkish trace he leaves on your pale skin. He rubs the spot before delivering another firm slap, enjoying the way you wriggle under his touch.

Without warning, he penetrates you again, sinking his member hard into your pussy, pressing his chest against your back as he presses you against the table and his body. He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against him as he begins to thrust into you mercilessly. The table creaks under the force of his movements, his muscles contracting and relaxing in a primal rhythm as he thrusts in and out again and again, without any restraint.

— Do you like it? — he asks between moans, his hot breath caressing your skin.

— I love it~ — you moan, fascinated, and he leaves soft kisses on your cheek, each touch igniting the fire between you even more.

He continues thrusting into you, his movements becoming more erratic and desperate as you move. He pursues his next release. He nestles into the crook of your neck, his lips and tongue peppering your skin with hot kisses, marking you as his with every touch. He hooks an arm under one of your legs and lifts it to the edge of the table, allowing him deeper access, each penetration sending waves of pleasure through your body.

— Tell me you're only mine. — he growls, his teeth grazing your neck, a touch that sends shivers of pleasure through you.

— I am, I'm only yours. — you whimper loudly. He shudders at your words, an intense wave of possession and love enveloping him completely.

He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your intoxicating scent as he continues to penetrate you, each movement bringing him closer to the edge of ecstasy and sensitivity.

— I love you~ — he whispers huskily, each syllable filled with fervor.

— I love you too. — you reply between moans. Bringing a hand between your body and the table, he moves down your abdomen until he finds your clitoris and begins to rub it, once again seeking that relief that seems so close.

Heeseung feels you arch, your body eager for release again. Firmly, he circles your wrist with his fingers, pulling your hand away from its goal. He wants to be the one to bring you to climax, not your own fingers.

— My turn… — he growls, replacing your fingers with his, his expert touch fanning the flames of ecstasy in your body.

— Mmm~ H-Heeseung! — you mumble, choked, your insides throbbing, nearing orgasm. You clutch the table, seeking stability in the abyss of pleasure.

He feels your limbs trembling, aware that you're on the verge of unraveling again. He rubs your clit with firm pressure, synchronizing his movements with his thrusts. With his other hand, he grabs your hips, holding you tight as he thrusts relentlessly.

— Be a good girl and cum for me again... — he commands huskily, a command that resonates deep inside you. And without further ado, Heeseung feels you convulse around him, reaching your climax, his name on your lips. — That's it, you're doing so good, baby. So good for me.

He continues moving inside you, prolonging your pleasure, reveling in the way your body trembles and gripping him in an ecstasy that seems to have no end. His own climax reaches him like a crashing wave, and with one last deep thrust, he lets himself go, spilling inside you once more, with an intensity that leaves him trembling. A deep roar escapes his throat, his gravelly voice reverberating through the studio as his body surrenders to the wave of sensations coursing through him.

The air is still thick with desire and something deeper, something beyond physical pleasure. With a ragged sigh, you collapse onto the table, the warmth of your skin meeting the coolness of the wood as you try to catch your breath. Heeseung doesn't move away. Instead, he snuggles up against you, his face finding refuge in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his still erratic breathing brushing your skin. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you against him with possessive need.

— You fascinate me. — His voice is a deep whisper, still laced with emotion and desire. His lips brush against your skin as he continues to murmur words of adoration, telling you how much he loves you, how beautiful you are, how unique it feels to have you in his life.

Each word is a balm, a reminder that this isn't just desire, but something bigger, more real. His confessions feel like invisible caresses, enveloping you in a bubble of tranquility, one that belongs only to this moment, to the two of you, and to the certainty that, for now, nothing else matters.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Body Language

Body language - involves communication provided through nonverbal channels. This includes posture, facial expressions, eye movement/contact, proximity to others, and physical movements (Pease, 2017).

Body Language vs. Nonverbal Communication

Nonverbal communication - includes all forms of communicative acts except speech.

Body language - a type of nonverbal communication. It lies under the umbrella of nonverbal communication, which encompasses a broader scope of communication (Milton & Randall, 2022).

One way to differentiate between the two is to think about body language as all the nonverbal communication that can be seen (Milton & Randall, 2022).

Nonverbal communication that is not considered body language (or cannot be seen) includes repetition of words or statements, vocal characteristics of speech such as tone and volume, and sounds that might not be considered words such as “hmm” and “uh-huh.”

Some types of body language include:

Facial expressions. The face is an extremely expressive form of body language, with the ability to communicate numerous emotions without a single word. From anger to anxiety, fear to grief, embarrassment to disgust, facial expressions are one form of nonverbal communication that is considered universal across cultures and species (Keltner, 2009).

Gestures. Hand, arm, and body gestures are part of daily life. So much so that now in video calls or online meetings, a hand gesture or arm movement can simulate a thumbs-up or heart emoji. Gestures can be positive, such as an “OK” signal, or negative. Gestures are largely cultural and may express different meanings depending on geography and ethnicity.

Posture. How an individual moves and holds themselves communicates information in subtle and powerful ways. Posture includes how someone sits, holds their head, stands, walks, and engages their physical stance.

Eye contact. Our visual sense is especially important in nonverbal communication. The way we look at others can communicate many things and help to improve or detract from the flow of conversation. Eye contact can convey affection, anger, attraction, and interest, among other things.

Physical touch. Physical touch is a powerful form of body language and nonverbal communication. From hugs to handshakes, touch demonstrates a variety of messages. Touch is also a very personal way to express interest, emotion, and engagement with others and can be received well or create discomfort and tension.

Personal space. Physical space in interactions is also a very personal aspect of body language. Our need for or comfort with it depends a great deal on culture, the specific relationship, personal preferences, past experience, and the given situation. Understanding other people’s boundaries is an important component of assessing the need for personal space.

As more interpersonal communication becomes virtual, it is important to be aware of how body language is portrayed on a screen. Some ideas to consider in virtual sessions include:

Make sure lighting is sufficient so clients and/or members can see facial expressions and pick up on body movement.

Be aware of posture. It is easy to get too comfortable behind a screen and hunch over. Have good support when sitting, staying upright and attentive.

Maintain healthy eye contact. It may be beneficial to shift between looking at the screen and looking directly at the camera to avoid uncomfortable stares.

Avoid touching the face and head too much, as this conveys insecurity and can be a distraction.

Smile and use warm facial gestures, as the face is the main thing people see in virtual meetings.

Use hand gestures. This will require the computer or recording device to be placed far enough away to capture some of the upper body.

Cultural differences in body language exist. Below are samples that have been observed. It is not an extensive list of all cultural differences in body language, but it demonstrates that ongoing education and awareness are important when working with others in personal and professional settings.

Hand gestures. A thumbs-up in Western cultures is a signal of “OK,” but in the Middle East it is a sign of “up yours.” Similarly, curling the index finger (a sign to move closer) is considered impolite and rude in areas such as China and the Philippines (Cortez et al., 2017).

Eye contact. Most Western countries view eye contact as a sign of confidence and interest. In many Middle Eastern countries, eye contact between sexes is deemed inappropriate, and in some Asian cultures, unbroken eye contact is seen as aggressive and confrontational (Cortez et al., 2017).

Touch. Northern Europe and Far East cultures engage in very little physical contact or touch, where physical touch is a large part of socializing in the Middle East and Latin America (Cortez et al., 2017).

Seated positions. In Japan, sitting cross-legged is a sign of disrespect, and showing the soles of the feet is offensive in Middle Eastern countries (Cortez et al., 2017).

Interpreting Body Language

Argyle (1978) was one of the first modern researchers to study nonverbal communication and believed that humans have more than 700,000 forms of body language. Some specific areas to note for interpreting body language include paying attention to the head, face, eyes, arms, and hands.

Head. Nodding when another person is speaking is a sign that you are focused and listening. It can demonstrate that you agree with or acknowledge what is being said and validate opinions. Tilting the head to one side is also a sign of attentive listening and respect. Both of these are considered positive gestures in conversation. A lowered head or head back with a rigid neck is a sign of a negative attitude, criticism, denial, or rejection. When someone is supporting their head with their hands, this is a sign of boredom and disinterest. And angling the chin upward is a sign of arrogance and dominance (Danesi, 2022).

Face. As most people know, smiling is an open, approachable facial gesture that indicates warmth and interest. On the other hand, frowning is a sign of anger, disinterest, or disagreement with what is being communicated. Raising the eyebrows is a sign of surprise, and raising a single eyebrow tends to be an expression of disbelief. Pursed lips tend to demonstrate anger, sorrow, or a lack of acceptance, depending on the situation (Danesi, 2022).

Eyes. It is often said that the eyes are the window to the soul. Eye contact is the basis for understanding in conversation. When eye contact is avoided, it may demonstrate discomfort, uncertainty, or shyness, or signal that the person has something to hide. When someone’s eyes are narrowed, it could indicate anger. Briefly closing the eyes and quickly opening them again is called confirmatory blinking and can indicate confirmation or approval of another person (Danesi, 2022). Narrowing the eyes can mean several things, such as confusion or a need for more information. It may also indicate concentration or anger. It is also important to notice the pupils. Dilated pupils can demonstrate interest and attraction, while widening the eyes can signal surprise or excitement.

Arms and hands. Upper body postures consist largely of the arms and hands, which are the most mobile and prominent demonstrations of body language. Crossing the arms is a way for someone to create distance and demonstrates a negative attitude (Danesi, 2022). When arms are crossed and the individual is gripping their upper arms, this signals tension and discomfort. Arms crossed with balled fists are also negative body language but signal aggression and anger. Putting hands on the hips can be a sign of aggression or dominance. Putting hands in pockets signals a lack of engagement and defensiveness (Danesi, 2022).

General Tips on Interpreting Body Language

In general, self-confident people frequently look at their reflection in mirrors or windows and place themselves in a position to be the center of discussion. People demonstrate confidence through large gestures, big postures, self-assured smiles, firm handshakes, and steady eye contact. Embarrassment, insecurity, and low confidence are seen through nervous laughter, avoidance of eye contact, turning away, and avoidance (Mandal, 2014).

Nonverbal cues of fear can be seen with wide eyes, clutching, and gripping. Holding the breath, glancing around, and placing hands in front of the body is also a sign of fear (Mandal, 2014).

People demonstrate resentment with crossed arms, a stiffened body, hunched shoulders, and low vocal tone (Mandal, 2014).

Sexual interest and attraction can be seen through eye contact, exaggerated facial gestures, blinking, wetting the lips, touching the body, or crossing and uncrossing legs (Mandal, 2014).

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hand Movements ⚜ Common Gestures ⚜ Facial Expressions

[if-whats-new]

What's New In IF? Issue 33 (2024)

By Aj, Dion, Briar, Jen and Peter

Now Available!

Itch.io - Keep Reading below

If you read the zine, consider liking the post: it helps us see how many people see it! And sharing is caring! <3

~ EDITORIAL ~

The new year is upon us!

To give us more free time during the holidays, the Team decided to merge last and this week’s Issues together.

The same will be done with the next Issue, which will come out on January 4th! This makes this Issue the last Issue of the year.

More feedback?

As the year comes to an end we in the WNIIF team are once again looking for feedback! The goal of this form is to find out our readers' preferences and wishes, so we can make the 2025 edition even better!

Please spare a few minutes to fill it out. None of the questions are required, so you can answer only what you want!

Small Talk with Harris Powell-Smith! @hpowellsmith

Our Interviewers are currently working on a Interview with the awesome Harris Powell-Smith, an award-winning narrative designer and writer of the Crème de la Crème series and Blood Money!

Do you have something you always wanted to ask them? Now is your chance! Send us a message on one of our socials or send us an e-mail. We’ll ask them for you!

We hope you enjoy this new issue!

AJ, DION, BRIAR, JEN AND PETER

~ BE A PART OF THE ZINE ~

THIS ZINE ONLY HAPPENS WITH YOU!

Want to write 1-2 pages about a neat topic, or deep-dive into a game and review it in details? Share personal experiences or get all academic?

WRITE FOR THE COLUMN!

Prefer to be more low-key but still have something to share? Send us a Zine Letter or share a game title for Highlight on…!

WE WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU!

Came across something interesting? Know a release or an update announced? Saw an event happening? Whether it's a game, an article, a podcast… Add any IF-related content to our mini-database!

EVERY LITTLE BIT COUNTS!

Contact us through Tumblr asks, Forum DMs, or even by email! And thank you for your help!!

~ EVENT SPOTLIGHT : Velox Turbo 2 ~

December 13th to 17th 2024

Velox Turbo is a challenge edition of Velox Fabula (or "Quick Story"), which is a ranked jam about making a complete visual novel based on a community-determined theme, hosted by robobarbie and Allie Vera. The Velox Turbo edition gives creators 4 days (instead of the usual 10) to complete their project, encouraging speed, accurate scope setting, and creativity.

The Velox jam series is heavily inspired by Ludum Dare, a global game jam about making a game from scratch based on a certain theme in a short amount of time.

This Jam's theme: The Eye of the Beholder, was revealed at the start of the jam. Voting was held across several rounds in the week leading up to the jam starting.

Other themes in the Velox jam series were:

Unreliable Narrator

Morally Ambiguous Promise

Enemies with Benefits

Flower Symbolism

Doomed by the Narrative

Trapped with Someone

Forbidden Romance

You Shouldn't Be Here

Participants can now vote for their favourites until December 31st. There are six categories: Overall, Theme Incorporation, Narrative, Visuals and Sound. Even tho you can't vote unless you submitted your own work, definitely check out at least one of the 15 entries!

~ ENDED ~

The voting for A Very Hallmark Game Jam is over. Check out the results!

This year’s Yuri Game Jam is in over. There’s an unbelievable number of 109 entries to check out!

Another bitsy jam has ended. You can now check out 8 entries with the theme "better late than never".

~ ONGOING (SUBMITTING) ~

Media depicting healthy examples of polyamory isn’t that common. The PolyJamorous 2024 is trying to break the status-quo!

The Queer Winter Game Jam is in full swing. Those interested can submit their work until January 16th 2025.

ShuffleComp is a musical interactive fiction competition where you make games based on songs, which are submitted by other entrants. Creators have until January 20th 2025 to upload their works.

Once upon a time, a game jam was held to create stories around the theme of fairy tales… and that game jam is the Once Upon A Time VN Jam. It’s running from October 1st to January 31st.

Concours de Fiction Interactive Francophone 2025 is for all French-speaking enthusiasts. Submissions are accepted March 3rd 2025.

Are you perhaps a fan of more somber, melancholic themes? Then check out the Dying Year - Visual Novel Jam! You have until the end of the year to participate.

The Black Visual Novel Jam is all about working with creative professional developers who work in visual novels to bring more Black stories to life. The goal is to create a space where Black creators can show their unique storytelling through visual novels.

IF Short Games Showcase 2024 is a great way to shine some new light on your projects made in the past year (Jan 1, 2024 to Dec 31, 2024), regardless of whether or not they are previously released! You have until January 15th 2025 to join.

Winter Visual Novel Jam 2024 is here! You have until January 1st 2025 to submit your projects.

Are you familiar with Decker? Then why not take a part in the Deck-Month 2?

SeedComp! is a 2-round interactive fiction game jam, focusing on creativity and the growth of ideas and the Sprouting Round has just started! Check out the Planting round for inspiration.

~ NEW RELEASE ~

Gentleman, Adventurer, Crocodile (Forked) is a twenty-second romp around the Victorian world in the company of an adventurous crocodile. It is a story filled with wondrous lands, strange people, wealth, power, friendship, betrayal, shipwreck and delicious pastry.

Murder Gods Play Pachinko (Super Videotome Engine) - A group of friends gathers in a remote house for the first time in two years. This is the place where Kaya took his life. Tensions are high, to say the least. The snowstorm isn't letting up. It appears they're trapped. The only company they have is each other. Little do they know -- time isn't on their side. He's on his way.

A new era begins in Maroland… The Ancient Talking Dragons have nearly all been annihilated… The Elves hide in their ancient mansions. The future belongs to humans… However, naive human wizards long for immortality. It’s only a matter of time before one of them finds something they can’t control. The Elves of Maroland is now available for free downloading in English language.

You are a prisoner of the jaguar empire, being forcibly marched by your captor to the blood pits at the heart of the empire. In your condition, your choices are limited -- but you refuse to let them have you. Escape your captor, explore the continent, and struggle for survival in this unique text-based roguelike, Wild Continent (Unity).

Echoes in the Deep (Twine) is an atmospheric, choice-driven narrative game set in a failing underwater research station. As Dr. Evelyn Moore, you must uncover the station's secrets, restore failing systems, and escape before time runs out. Will you survive the depths, or will its mysteries drag you under?

Calmaria is the newest companion app developed by the Design School in partnership with the Informatics College, the Student Engagement Office, and the Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Office of the University of ≭∘⊊⊚. Please enjoy Calmaria.

Dive even deeper into the world of A Date with Death with an all-new route. Starting with a fresh Day 6 and unfolding all the way through Day 10, this DLC brings you new conversations, stunning art, four new endings, and of course, the same beloved Grim Reaper. - A Date with Death - Beyond the Bet (Ren’Py). @twoandahalfstudios

As always, don't forget to check out the submitted entries to the events mentioned in the previous pages. They deserve some love too!

~ NEW RELEASE (WIP) ~

Everyone knows vampires: bloodthirsty, unholy creatures, some barely any better than animals. You never thought you'd become one yourself. You're a believer in the new gods - but here you are, trying not to feel that they've abandoned you. Feed, fight, and flee from the sun, all while looking for a cure to turn your life, or lack of it, right again in Glass Fangs (Twine). @glassfangsif

You are the heir to the Dracian kingdom, born of dragon blood and royal lineage—but you know nothing of this truth. To protect you from the tyrannical king of Dracia—your own grandfather—your parents sacrificed their lives. They hid you away, ensuring the prophecy that foretells his downfall would survive, even if they could not. - Rise of the Forsaken (CScript).

Dazzling phantom thief heists, romantic meetings in the dead of night, and making a name for yourself; The Mysterious Thief, Forget Me Not (Ren’Py) is a mostly linear girl's love visual novel that features multiple POVs throughout. The story is set in the fictional city of Twinbells, England, and shows how the lives of our four main characters are changed forever when a ballet company — and its treasured jewel — visits the phantom thief-loving city. @solsketchbook

Rigor Mortis (Ren’Py) is a visual novel for goths of all stripes who are surviving under late-stage capitalism. Discover the adventures of Lunis Culpeper, 12-year-old newlydead, as she learns about (un)life in the (under)world the hard way.

Your life as an alchemist has been safe and comfortable so far... but when your sister makes you one last wish before passing away, you'll embark on a dangerous journey that might change your life—and the lives of your two companions—forever. Hopefully, you'll also learn to see the world in a new light after this Trek to Dead Water (Ren’Py).

Take centre stage as a former-rockstar turned actor navigating your new career and the chilling grip of fan-obsession in Scapegoated (CScript). Your once-famous band may be nothing short of a ghost of the past to you, but the rest of the world cannot seem to let go. The split in 1968 was scandalous, abrupt and mysterious. And although you’ve thrown yourself into acting and secured your first major role with a big time Hollywood director, whispers of blame have been on your tail ever since.

You are the illegitimate child of King Aldric the ruler of one of the seven kingdoms Ceryndor, marked by your half elven heritage and shunned by society. Born under a cloud of prejudice and tragedy, you are feared as the “Black Wolf” – an omen of misfortune and a harbinger of chaos. When the son of a wealthy trader is found dead, the fragile peace in your land begins to crumble. The investigation leads you to uncover secrets that could shake the foundations of the seven kingdoms. Will you embrace the tyranny they accuse you of, or will you rise above the scars of your past and forge your own path in War of Crowns (CScript)?

A Life in a Year (Unity) is a narrative-driven adventure game that explores the emotional challenges of studying abroad. You play as Laura, a 16-year-old exchange student in a Nordic country. The game navigates themes like language barriers, cultural differences, friendship, family, and more.

Your trade as a Keeper is suffering under the rule of the current Emperor, but you've just gotten lucky – the Summit Library, the largest and most important Library in the Eawin Empire, has requested your services. But when you arrive you suddenly find yourself in a dangerous magical mystery: something's wrong with the books, and the Library is falling apart at the seams. Also, there might be a war? But The Summit Library is situated on neutral territory, so that doesn't affect you... Right?

~ UPDATES ~

A Sun Asunder: Post Apocalypse (CScript) updated their demo. @asapostapocalypseif

Meteoric (CSscript) added new content to their demo.

REMEMBER, YOU WILL DIE (CSscript) released Chapter 5. @vapolis

The Ultimate Magic Student (CScript) updated their demo.

Thicker Than (CScript) released their monthly update on Ko-Fi. @barbwritesstuff

Virtue’s End (CScript) updated their Patreon demo. @virtues-end

A Warmth in the Cold (CScript) added new content to the demo.

Spire, Surge and Sea (CScript) updated a new second Chapter.

The Adventures of Alaric Blackmoon (ADRIFT) released Episode 10.

Sentience (Twine) released Chapter 5. @sentience-if

Adrift With You (CScript) released Chapter 2. @kathrinesadventures

A Shriek of Ash and Fire (CScript) released Update 6. @krogpile

Drink Your Villain Juice (CScript) updated their demo. @drinkyourvillainjuice

Oh Mother, Where Are Thou? (CScript) updated their demo.

Dragon Kin (CScript) added new content to their demo.

Soulmates Inc (CScript) is back with a new update. @soulmatesinc-if

Voiceless: A Siren’s Song (CScript) released a re-written Chapter 1.

War of the Divines (CScript) updated their demo.

Hunter’s Requiem (CScript) added new content to their demo. @huntersrequiem-if

~ OTHER ~

Crown of Exile (Twine) offers a limited Access up to Chapter Ten for all their readers. Check it out before it’s too late! @ramonag-if

The Rosebush released an Interview with Chandler Groover, an interactive fiction author known for his influential games such as Eat Me, Toby’s Nose and Midnight. Swordfight., as well as his contribution in Fallen London’s storylines. @the-rosebush-mag

Devil On Your Shoulder is looking for beta testers.

~

As always, we apologize in advance for missing any update or release from the past week. We are only volunteers using their limited free time to find as much as we can - but sometimes things pass through the cracks.

If you think something should have been included in this week's zine but did not appear, please shoot us a message! We'll do our best to add it next week! And if you know oncoming news, add it here!

~ MAYBE YOU NEXT? ~

We did not get a submission this week. But if you have an idea for a short essay, or would like a special space to share your thoughts about IF and the community...

Shoot us an email!

~ HIGHLIGHT ON ~

A couple of games that we thought were cool.

I.A.G Alpha by techniX (INSTEAD)

The interactivity turns the idea of an IF piece on its head!

//submitted by Max//

The Master of the Land by Pseudavid (Twine)

A night of celebration with many storylines to explore. Replay again and again to understand, not to win.

//submitted by Sera//

Wonderland Noir: Behind the Looking Glass by Slim Pickens (Ink)

Delves into heavy topics, reminds me of Disco Elysium. Incredibly evocative writing, almost no attention given.

//submitted by Mouthofdirt//

Your favourite game here?

Do you have a favourite game that deserves some highlighting?

An old or recent game that wowed you so much you spam it to everyone?

Tell us about it! And it might appear here!

WE LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU ALL! WHETHER IT'S GOOD OR BAD, OR EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN...

Have something to say? Send us a message titled: Zine Letter!

As we end this issue, we would like to thank:

Max, Sera and Mouthofdirt

For sending us a Highlight!!

And as always, huge thanks to all you readers who liked, shared, and commented on last week's issue!

What might be tiny actions are huge support and motivators to us!

Thank you for cheering us on this journey!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We all wish you a great start to next year!

We will see you in January with a 2025 edition of What’s New in IF!

AJ, DION, BRIAR, JEN AND PETER

WHAT'S NEW IN IF? 2024-ISSUE 33

[my-hobby-is-finding-the-source]

To help spread the honorable arts of source-seeking far and wide, I have compiled a list of websites I often rely on. It is by no means comprehensive but it should be helpful for those who want to try looking for sources on their own.

Google Lens:

More specifically, the "Search by Image" option that replaced the reverse image search functionality of Google Images in 2022. Although it focuses on image segmentation and recognition, it has the most encompassing image set by far. It will rarely point you towards the source directly, but you can use it to find different or more complete samples, which is a good way to start.

Yandex Images:

Its "Visual Search" functionality resembles the older Google reverse image search, which can be better in some situations. It lists pages that contain fairly similar matches and a board of looser samples.

TinEye:

Although smaller and less-capable than other options, it stores the date and address it found each result, which really helps narrowing down potential sources. It works best with unedited or nearly complete samples.

Above are general-purpose tools that are suited for images of any subject matter. Following are sites with narrower scopes, mainly focused on artworks or anime-adjacent media.

SauceNAO:

If you have an unedited image, this is the tool for the job. Though weak against crops and edits, it indexes heaps of works from artist-focused communities, social media platforms, and image boards.

trace.moe:

In the "rare" occasion that I stumble upon a screenshot of an anime I don't recognize, this tool is a lifesaver. It is "comparatively" much smaller than the others, but it can give you the exact moment you're looking for, down to the minute.

For now, these are the stars in my toolkit! There are other notable tools out there, but these are the ones I have the most success with.

[anistarrose]

This is my online accessibility (especially image description) masterpost, which I update periodically whenever I find a new resource or guide. I worry this has the side effect of looking overwhelming in scope, so if you're learning about IDs and/or Tumblr-specific accessibility for the first time, I recommend you start with the first six posts, under "The Basics". All post titles are clickable links!

The Basics

[Plain text: "The Basics". End PT]

Why and how to write image descriptions

Accessibility on Tumblr for new users (has templates, also talks about how to tag for flashing lights to accommodate photosensitive folks)

I see an image and want to describe it: a step by step guide

Fanart-specific and Tumblr-specific advice for image descriptions

How to describe screenshots of tags

IDs versus Alt Text, from a visually impaired Tumblr user (spoiler alert: sometimes it makes sense to use both)

Level of Detail

[Plain text: "Level of Detail?" End PT]

Why a short ID is always better than no ID

Blind people discuss the level of detail to include in IDs

The key word for writing IDs: "Relevancy"

Helpful Communities, Tips, and Tools

[Plain text: "Helpful Communities, Tips, and Tools." End PT]

I want to make my posts more accessible, but can’t write IDs myself: a guide

The People's Accessibility Discord sever (also mentioned in the previous link. It's a friendly server for crowdsourcing image descriptions, with description requests and feedback requests both welcomed)

Google Doc full of template descriptions for memes

Online image to text converter

Describing skin tone and describing hair (heads up that the posts themselves are undescribed and were written with fiction writers in mind; potentially still very useful)

How to remember to write descriptions (spoiler: by putting yourself in situations where you see descriptions more often)

Related, a Google doc of described blogs (almost all the blogs linked earlier in this post have tons of described posts and resources too)

(In my opinion, writing IDs is easiest to learn by doing — but especially if combined with watching other people do so. So follow some described blogs!)

Miscellaneous

[Plain text: "Miscellaneous". End PT]

Alt text vs IDs vs Captions with examples

Why not to put image descriptions in small fonts/italics (also, some non-definitive thoughts on IDs vs alt text)

Special characters read by all screen readers

Brief Intro to Transcripts/Video Descriptions

Myths That Harm Blind People

How to make your blog's colors visually accessible - one of the easiest thing on this list!

Other easy things: show love to artists who describe their work, edit descriptions into your original post when someone provides one in the notes, and copy-paste inaccessible (eg, small text or italicized) descriptions as plain text when you reblog!

Lastly, and maybe most importantly, how to continue writing image descriptions while avoiding burnout.

Let me know if any of these links break! I personally don't describe nearly as much audio/video (got those audio processing issues), so this list is sparse on those resources, but if anyone has good guides/blog recommendations for that too, feel free to add on!

[ireadwithmyears]

How each member of the bad batch would be with a visually impaired significant other (short imagine’s/headcannons

Part two|visually impaired reader masterlist

Word count: 5.4K

Pairings: the bad batch ex female reader (individual)

Tags/warnings: some are suggestive, mostly domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries

note: look, it’s the epitome of self indulgence. I wrote this solely because I’m blind, and have never seen these ideas discussed when it comes to our beloved boys. However, I recognize that the majority of people reading this will not have shared this experience, so this is why I am adding a disclaimer/reminder to tell you that blindness is a spectrum, and the majority of us have at least a degree of useable vision left, so that is why I continue to use visual language/descriptors like look or watching. That being said, I hope you enjoy these, I had so much fun writing them, and if you have an idea for a specific scenario so I can do more of these, or another particular clone who isn’t a member of the batch, please let me know, and I would be happy to write more

Hunter🩷 

Hunter is the best at planning dates when it comes to keeping your accessibility and comfort in mind. 

If he wants to take you out somewhere, he’ll always go and scope it out beforehand, analyzing things that might not make it an enjoyable experience for you. I.e. if the lighting is too low and will obscure any of your remaining vision. If the music is too loud and will make it hard for you to effectively communicate with him. He knows that both of these things, especially when they’re working in tandem, can make you feel on edge and anxious, and that’s the last thing he wants you to feel when he’s taking you out on a date.

He will always ask the establishment about things like accessible or braille menus, or, if you happen to have a guide dog, seating that will have the space to accommodate and be comfortable for all of you.

If the menu isn’t accessible for you, he will always give you a heads up beforehand, using his datapad to pull up the menu on the holonet so that he can help you familiarize yourself with it, and you can decide what you want before you get there, taking a lot of the stress and pressure off of you because you don’t have to rush.

He wants you to feel cherished, loved, and safe when you’re out and about with him. So if you are going somewhere that’s particularly busy or crowded, he will also adapt himself. 

He’ll keep you close, whether it’s with your arm tucked securely in the crook of his elbow to guide you around, or his hand gently placed on the small of your back, letting it rest there so that you know he’s right there with you.

He never plans on getting separated from you, but if, by some unforeseen circumstance, it happens by accident, he has a plan for that too. 

If you’ve got remaining vision that is useable, he will intentionally wear bright, contrasting colours to make him easier to spot, even when he’s a distance away. 

If you don’t have any remaining vision, he’ll wear something like keys that jingle, or an article of jewellery that makes a distinct sound as he walks so that you can tell when he’s approaching. 

Regardless, every time you go on a night out, he will take the time to describe his appearance to you in detail, his general physical description, what he’s wearing, so that if, for some reason, you do get separated, you know how best to describe him to someone, so that they can locate him for you and help you make your way back to him

His enhanced senses have become innately attuned to your normal patterns and rhythms, and if he notices any rapid fluctuation or change be it with your breathing or heart rate, indicating that the environment you’re in is causing you stress, he’s whisking you away, taking you back home, despite any of your protests. He knows you’re just fighting him because you feel guilty about potentially messing up the night, which you absolutely are not.

He will not let you feel that way for long, because when you’re home, he is determined to make you feel like the beautiful, treasured, and wanted human being that you are.

He orders your favourite takeout food. He’ll lie you down on your bed, surrounding you with soft blankets and pillows, gently and tenderly beginning to caress and massage the tension from your tensed up shoulders and back, partly because he feels like he might have inadvertently been the cause of it being there in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” you try to apologize. “I know you really wanted to...”

“Shh,” he quiets your apology, a hand coming up to softly brush a finger against your lips, resting his forehead against yours gently. “Meshla,” he breathes, unable to help the small smirk of amusement that pulls at the corners of his mouth as he observes, taking note of your breath audibly catching in the back of your throat as his finger, slow and slightly teasing, begins to lightly trace the edge of your bottom lip.

He presses his lips to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss as he affirms, “this is all I want,” he breathes in a whisper close to your ear that immediately has your whole body erupting in goosebumps.

“You,” he continues, his voice a low, husky rumble against your neck as his lips press, warm and deliberate, directly where your pulse flutters beneath them, pulling a soft, yet audible gasp out of you, that makes his lips curve up into a smile that you can feel against the skin of your neck.  “Are all I want.” 

He spends the rest of the night taking his time to prove that to you, in every way that he knows how.

*

Tech🩷

He takes note of every single bruise you get on your legs from bumping into shit all the time. 

You’re blind, it’s just an occupational hazard. You might not even notice that you have one, but he certainly does, and he’ll take care to notify you of every time you accumulate a new mark in your collection.

“There is a bruise directly above your left knee,” he observes, gentle fingers tracing over the mark with a soft frown marring his features. 

He naturally has picked up on using the language that is most helpful to describe the location of something visual to you. You didn’t even have to ask the first time you were on hands and knees on the floor, feeling around for one of your shoes. He didn’t point, and say “it’s over there,” which is just instinctive habit for most people. Instead, he had a used more specific directives like “behind you, on a slight diagonal to your right.”

“How did this happen,” he asks softly now, placing your hand directly on top of the blossoming mark on your leg.

You give him a half shrug and a rueful smile. “I don’t know,” you admit, honestly puzzled. “It happens all the time.”

From then on, he observes you closely, quickly coming to the realization that there are things that are just harder for you to look out for, and, just as quickly, doing his best to rectify each one. He’s easily able to identify a pattern of cause and effect that lead to your many bruises, bumps, and small every day accidents, and rather than being over bearing and cautious with you, he just figures out a way to remove the root of each problem entirely.

Each step on the Marauder’s gangway is suddenly marked with a long strip of brightly coloured tape at each edge, so that you can more confidently move down the steps without having to fumble to find the edge with your foot.

Low sitting caf tables in the middle of the living room, with sharp, jagged corners jutting out are suddenly pushed up against the wall, so that you don’t have to be careful while stepping around them, trying not to hit your leg off of one of them.

He makes sure that any overhead cupboards in the kitchen that are hard for you to notice until your head is colliding with their open doors, are kept securely shut, recalling a particular incident when, whilst putting away dishes, your head had caught on one of the cupboard doors, large bump blossoming on your forehead, just barely missing your eye. He had frowned, gently holding an ice pack to the swelling bump, deciding that from now then on, he would put any of the dishes away that needed to go on the top shelves. He wouldn’t budge on this, even when you tried to argue.

“Cyar,” he had said, voice stern, even as he gently took you by both of your shoulders. “I understand your need to be able to do things independently, and I respect it greatly. But, as much as you can make a light about getting bruises on your legs from these little incidents. Your head is much too important to apply that same lightness to, and I will not compromise on that so please, let me do this for you.” he had leaned down, barely brushing his lips over the bump on your head in a caring, affectionate gesture, and that had made your resolve completely crumble.

He’s also hyper aware of your systems and ways of organizing things, and it has become a habit for him to make sure that it is maintained. 

Shampoo and conditioner bottles that look almost identical with exception to the labels that isn’t much help to you are always set in a specific order for you to find in the shower. You always leave things like your wallet and your cane in the same place, and if anyone messes with these orders, it can really throw you off.

If anyone does touch or move any of your things, regardless of how insignificant, without telling you first, Tech will find out, and, especially if it’s one of his brothers, will thoroughly scold them for it, ensuring that they understand why somethings so small could be really frustrating and disorienting for you, and makes sure that they never do it again.

If you read braille, this man learns it for fun one day on a whim, and he doesn’t even tell you about it.

He’ll put away your groceries for you one day, and then you’ll be searching for something like a dinner ingredient, and find that he’s attached a braille label to the box, with completely correct use of the six dots that form the language.

When you confront him with it, he only shrugs, adjusting his goggles with a slightly confused expression.

“You sound surprised,” he observes with one raised eyebrow. “In a practical sense, this was a logical solution,” he continues, clearly unfazed by your display of shock.

“That’s not fair,” you pout, leaning against the counter and folding your arms. “If you’re going to learn braille, then you at least need to teach me some Mandoa,” you challenge.

“I was not aware that you were interested in the subject. But that is an agreeable request. What would you like to know?” He asks, looking at you questioningly.

“Like,” you bite your lip, considering, tilting your head in curiosity. “What’s that word that you always call me?” You ask. “It starts with an S? I think? Or maybe a C...c cyar?” You say, suddenly uncertain and cringing at your own pronunciation.

He straightens, suddenly grateful that you’re unable to see the blush that’s crept into his cheeks as he answers evenly. 

“Ah, yes, the word that you were saying is correct. Cyar... it means, love... or beloved,” he answers, voice going soft as he catches your hand in his, almost absently pressing his lips to the back of your knuckles briefly as you stare at him, surprised.

“You ... you love me?” You ask, hopeful and voice clearly bewildered. The smile that pulls at the corners of your lips lights up the whole room. 

Both eyebrows arch as he looks down at you, because now he’s the one who’s confused. When he responds, his voice is far less confident and sure than it usually is. It holds almost a shy, completely uncharacteristic timidness, which conveys the genuine honesty in his words when he speaks.

“Well ...cyar. of course I do. I thought it was obvious.”

*

Echo🩷 

Echo, unlike most people, understands all the aches and pains, mental and physical, that come with being disabled.

He’s sat with you on the bathroom floor, your head resting against the cool linoleum of one of the tiles on the wall after a concert. You had come home to find your head throbbing from the after affects of being surrounded by a combination of extremely loud music, a screaming crowd, and strobe lights that made you wish that you didn’t have any remaining vision at all. 

Your eyes were shut tightly, and  your heart fluttered with surprise and gratitude when, with his one functioning hand, Echo, movements slow and meticulous, carefully began to undo your hair from the tight updo it had been forced into all night. There he sat, fingers so, so gentle as they ran through your hair, undoing the tangles and soothing away some of the tight ache that had gathered at the back of your head. 

He’s careful to stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt the little bit of peace that you had found. The only thing that fell from his lips were gentle breaths and soft murmurs of “oh, sweetness, s’okay,” lips pressing the lightest kisses to your flushed cheek, the side of your aching forehead, until the painkillers had finally, finally kicked in.

If you’re a cane user, he always has his eyes peeled for the little bumps and cracks along the sidewalk.

He’s seen what happens when the tip gets caught in one of them, when the handle inevitably jabs against your stomach or ribs and the immediate discomfort on your face that follows.

He also sees the bruises that are left there afterwards, and as much as he loves gently pressing his lips to each of them, reassuring you that he’ll kiss them better, he’d rather them just not be there in the first place.

So, he always watches out for them, giving you an ample warning on ones that your cane could get caught in so that you can move it out of the way. 

He takes you to a holofilm, and you both don’t realize that it’s not available with audio description until you’re in your seats and the headset doesn’t work. He immediately turns to you, giving you a reassuring smile and offering his hand, saying “We can leave, if you want. If you’re not going to get anything out of this, we can go, and we’ll find something else to do.”

You decide to stick it out, rationalizing that you’ll still be able to get something out of the film, if not the whole story, and besides, he can catch you up on parts you didn’t understand after it’s over. 

In the end, it’s still worth it for you.  

You finish half of a bag of popcorn before commercials are even over. You’re intrigued by the movie for almost half of it, and then finally, you spend the rest of it passed out with your head resting on Echo’s shoulder, only for him to wake you, slightly chagrined, when the credits are rolling.

When you’re out of the theater, you walk together hand in hand down the street. He apologizes profusely, saying that he should have done more research. You try to laugh it off to reassure him that it was fine, because you just had one of the best naps of your life in that theater. When it’s clear that that doesn’t help, you’re turning to him, sighing with a small frown.

“Echo,” you say with a small shake of your head. “I’m the one who should be sorry, not you, love.” At his look of bewilderment, you continue. “You do so much for me already, and I’m just so, so grateful for that. It’s not always something I feel like I can repay you for.” You look away, ashamed. 

Because it’s true. He has his own set of issues and lingering problems from the injuries he sustained at the citadel. You can encourage him to do things like his physiotherapy exercises that ensures that his cybernetics are working in tandem with his body. But you can’t actually help him with them, whether it be with making modifications or repairs. It sometimes makes you feel a bit useless, because he helps you so much and you feel like you can only help him so little, and you feel like you’re just adding to his already overflowing plate sometimes.

“I know there could be easier people for you to be with,” you confess, voice quiet.

Echo stops dead at the street corner, catching your wrist to stop you from moving forward, and turning to fully face you with his brow creased in a frown.  

“Oh, Cyar’ika,” he says, voice soft, reaching out a hand to tilt your head up so that you’re looking at him. “Now who put that idea in your head, ner kar’ta?” he whispers, gazing down at you with pursed lips.

Unexpected tears spring to your eyes at his gentle tone. The truth is that you can’t place this feeling on a singular person, though people have contributed to it. Family members have made comments in passing, strangers who look at the two of you and immediately begin to judge from there own preconceived notions and outside opinions. It’s society at large, who has made you feel like your blindness is a burden to the ones you love. 

You don’t know how to say that, though. So you remain silent as Echo leans down, dropping a lingering kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “I don’t need you to make my life easier, cyar. You make my life meaningful, and that, to me, is more important. 

He rests his forehead against yours, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. “Your needs don’t make you a burden, cyar’ika. I want you to remember that. I want to make sure that they are always being met. It’s the least I can do, you understand?”

All you can do is nod, your heart in your throat. 

The next time you go see a holofilm with him, and the audio description isn’t available, Echo is prepared this time.

He still offers to leave, but when you refuse, he has a plan. In his own time, and on the occasions when you both have been watching something at home, he always makes sure the described video settings are on, for your benefit, and when he’s alone, for his.

He’s observed closely, listening and carefully paying attention to how the narrator’s go about describing things. So, when the movie starts, he leans over to you, keeping his voice low and quiet, beginning to describe to you what’s happening onscreen, careful to never interrupt any dialogue.

You stare at him, more than a little surprised. “Echo, are you going to do this for the whole film?” You ask, caught off guard and delighted all at once.

He gives you a quick nod. “Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Now, be quiet and let me do it.”

True to his word, he does, staying close to you and keeping his voice quiet, so as not to disturb anyone around you. If someone still tries to shush him or gives him a dirty look for talking in the theater, he glares at them, in only the way that Echo can, until they stop.

This time, you stay awake during the whole film, watching intently, and listening to echos every word as he is meticulous in describing the visual things that you’re missing. In spite of all of the things that are different in comparison to your last date, one thing still remains the same.

You still finish the movie with your head resting on his broad shoulder, and he still looks at you like you’re the centre of his world.

*

Wrecker🩷 

The first time you make a blind joke about yourself in front of him, he’s terrified. 

Instinctively, he starts laughing, but then, registering your words, he immediately cuts himself off, not wanting to offend you, and is concerned that you’re being mean to yourself, which he will not allow. 

When you only snort at his reaction, playfully nudging him and explaining how it’s fine, because you have to make fun of the things that you are unable to change, and how it’s actually a mark of self love if you have the ability to laugh at yourself, slowly, he begins to understand. 

Soon enough, he not only readily laughs at your self deprecating humour and blind jokes, but at one point, he ends up slipping out one of his own before he can stop himself.

Again, he’s immediately apologetic and regretting his words, but when you throw back your head and laugh heartily, he feels a little less insecure and soon enough, you both have the ability to crack blind jokes with each other without missing a beat, to everyone else’s chagrin and fond amusement. 

He decides that having the ability to make you laugh, getting to watch your eyes sparkle with amusement and hearing the sounds of your joy is music to his ears, and is one of his favourite things. 

Wrecker is your number one protector. Not in a toxic, over protective way.

Even though he’s only got one functioning  eye, chances are he’s still got more vision than you, so he’s taking it upon himself to be the working set in this relationship, meaning he’s always watching out for you.

If you’ve got a guide dog, the first time he encounters it, he might have gone to pet it, but, before he did, he sees the do not interact sign, and stops short, quickly pulling back and apologizing. 

He asks questions, just to make sure he understands why it’s important, and after you explain it, he fully respects the boundaries and never forgets them, to which you are immensely thankful.

He doesn’t understand why you’re so grateful for him just doing the decent thing, until you tell him that a lot of people understand that you’re not supposed to pet the dog, but will either do it anyways, thinking that if you can’t see them doing it and they do it silently, you won’t notice, or they’ll talk in a distracting way to the animal, which is sometimes worse, and equally as distracting for the dog to work through.

This angers him, that they would take advantage of your blindness in such a disrespectful manner, and because you’ve explicitly told him that distracting your dog could potentially put you in danger, under the right circumstances.

From then on, he’s always watching.

If someone is petting your dog while it’s working, or trying to distract it, he’s right there, towering over them and glaring with his arms crossed, not so subtly pointing at the do not pet sign until they back away, stuttering and flustered.

If a child runs up to pet it, he’ll much more gently intercept them, crouching down on the ground to quietly explain to them the rules. In your experience, children are often much more respectful than adults, and watching him interact so kindly with them melts your heart every time.

Wrecker is tall. Standing at 6 feet six, it makes him not the most ideal guiding companion.

If he’s guiding you himself, sometimes, unintentionally, his elbow might knock against your head, for which he is immediately aware of, and instantly apologetic. 

He will always stop, large hands gently cradling the sides of your face as he looks you over, worried that even the slightest bump from him could leave a bruise. Regardless of what he finds, though, he’ll always lean down, dropping a kiss to your forehead with a soft, “m sorry, meshla.”

His solution to this problem, however, is a tad bit unconventional. 

When confronted with a situation where it’s just more efficient for him to guide you, for example, a street blocked off by construction, taped off areas and pylons everywhere, instead of offering you something like his hand or his wrist to hold, he simply reaches down, scoops you up into his arms and carries you over his shoulder until you’ve both cleared the obstacles together, you letting out a surprised squeak and giggling all the while.

Wrecker finds you beautiful, every day, all the time, and he is constant with his reminders of that.

As a blind person, it can be more difficult to coordinate a whole outfit, look, hair, and make up. He is so appreciative, and loves if you do that. But, if you’re one of those blind people who never learned how to do make up, who isn’t as confident in their sense of personal style, and you feel a little bit self-conscious about how much, or how little, in your opinion, effort you put into your look when you’re going out on a date with him, he will quickly assuage your fears the minute he catches wind of them.

He’s very good at detecting those days where you’re not feeling good about your appearance, just intuitively sensing when you’re having a bit of an off day, and when you could use a reminder of how beautiful and precious you are to him. He knows he can’t magically change your mind.

But he can  tell you about all the things he finds attractive about you, every day, if you need that reminder.

He’ll tell you of each one, each part of you that he finds beautiful beyond belief, while taking the time to softly caress and kiss each one, with whispered affirmations of “Such a pretty little thing,” and “You’re perfect, cyar, absolutely perfect.”

And if that’s not enough, he’ll keep going, keep moving downwards until he can look up at your beautiful face, watching from in between your parted thighs as your lips form equally beautiful noises for him.

*

Crosshair🩷 

It isn’t that Crosshair doesn’t want to help you. It’s just that, honestly, he’s a little bit hesitant to, in the beginning, fearing that he might overstep, because he places such a high value on choice, and respects your independence and autonomy to much to question you and your abilities.

He trusts that, if you need his help, you’ll come to him and ask. He also trusts that you’ve been living with blindness for a long time, maybe even since birth, and you’re aware enough to know your boundaries and limits, trusting that you’ll advocate when you need him to help with one of those limits.

Just because he doesn’t help you as much in the physical sense, does not mean he isn’t your number one advocate, because he absolutely is. 

For example, if you’re a guide dog user, and you both are going out together using a ride sharing app. If the driver refuses to let you in they’re speeder because of your service dog, he will wait patiently for you to explain, analyzing every micro expression of the driver and knowing when they’re still not listening to you, and he will step in without hesitation.

Wearing his most menacing glare, and in a voice that is deadly calm, he will absolutely read them the riot act. He knows every law regarding your guide dog, and knows just how properly to phrase them in a way that will make the driver scared, usually when he mentions the 5000 credits fine they could be sued for not denying you access 

He’s also keeping his eyes out to make sure that no one distracts your dog, and isn’t afraid to directly confront anyone who tries, saying something snarky like, “You know, maybe you’re the one who needs a guide dog, if you can’t read the don’t pet me sign that’s right in front of your face,” paired with a signature eye roll.

They always back away stuttering, and it always makes you laugh, even as you gently rebuke him, saying “Cross, that was a bit rude.”

He scowls, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him as he responds.

“And you, sweet girl, are too nice,” he purrs lowly against your ear. But, with the way that he begins to nuzzle at your neck, you don’t really think it bothers him that much.

If you’re one of those blind people who feels like asking for help is just burdening other people with your problems, and would rather risk facing the consequences by trying to do something yourself, rather than ask for help, he will find out, and he will not be pleased in the slightest. 

Your stubbornness is something that he loves about you. But if it has a tendency to go too far, especially if you’re putting yourself in harms way, that adoration will quickly turn to frustration.

For example, one time, you both were staying at a place that had a glass topped stove. 

These things are so inaccessible for blind people, it’s not even funny. But rather than admit defeat and let him cook dinner, you decided that you could figure it out, and gave it your best shot. 

Your best shot ended with you trying to line up the pot with the burner, and very quickly, receiving a searing burn on your hand from touching the heat. 

You had not anticipated it getting that hot that fast , and as you quickly pull your hand away, tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you let out a pained hiss.

““what are you doing?”

He had materialized behind you from seemingly out of nowhere, voice a silky, yet tensed coil as he reaches around you carefully, quickly flicking off the burner before long, dextrous fingers wrap  around your wrist, still gentle, even as he insistently pulls your hand away from where you’ve been clutching it to your chest, eyes keenly examining the burn with a soft frown on his face.

Wordlessly, he guides you over to the kitchen sink, hand on the small of your back, turning the water on cold and carefully placing your injured hand beneath the stream. 

Only then does he come to stand in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, his expression hard as he looks down at you. 

“What were you thinking, cyar?” He grits out, voice almost a growl as he tries to understand. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I could have helped and prevented this,” he gestures to your hand. “From happening.”

You blame the trembling in your voice on the lingering throbbing ache in your hand.

“I’m s sorry. I I thought that I could figure it out. You were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you B because I’m scared that I burden you with all the help I need sometimes and.”

“Stop,” he cuts you off in one quick, decisive syllable, and you instantly fall silent.

He tilts your chin up with one hand, guiding your eyes to look at him. His lips form a thin line when he sees the glimmer of unshed tears there. When he next speaks, his voice is still firm, but there is an underlying gentleness and softening in his tone. It has lost its hard edge, and it’s protective bite.

“You are not a burden, to anyone, but especially to me.”

“But,” you try to interject, but he easily silences you, taking your face in both of his hands and cradling it gently.

“Shh, cyar, listen to me,” he says, his voice a quiet command.

“If you are a burden, then you are my burden. In the same way that I am yours.” He takes your uninjured hand in his, relaxing his fingers against yours,  allowing you to feel it’s tremors.

Oh.

It’s been so long since his hand has shaken like this. He’s worked so hard to try and work through this particular trauma, and though it hasn’t completely gone away, it only begins to tremble during moments of high stress. You flush with shame, realizing that this moment of high stress is completely on you.

“I know what you’re doing, and stop it,” he says, voice stern, squeezing your hand in a silent warning. “Look at me, cyar’ika,” he continues, voice softening.

When you do, he continues. “If we are each other’s burdens, then we take care of each other, together. Do you understand me?”

You nod, actually stunned into complete silence at his proclamation.

“Good,” he says, voice softening further. He leans forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, fingers gently caressing the side of your neck as he pulls back.

He gives you a playful nudge as he smirks.

“Don’t ever try something like that again, cyar,” he quips with a scowl. “Your eyes already don’t work, and if you lose one of your hands, you’re completely fucked.”

All the levity of the moment vanishes, and it ends with your face pulling into a smile, a soft laugh falling from your parted lips as he watches you, eyes filled with adoration.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Thirteen - Battlefields

Part Twelve

———

The Voyager Satellite was sent into space September 5th, 1977. Almost exactly seven years before the Quintessons attacked Earth. Initially people were ready to blame the simple gold disk aboard and the trinkets on the invasion, but the connection to the little spacecraft was and still is there.

Currently the little satellite is around fifteen billion miles from Earth, with a one direction signal distance of twenty-two and a half hours. Forty-five hours in total for simple communication.

Cybertron and the surrounding planets, asteroids, and other surfaces were around thirty light years from Earth, which was estimated to be 180 trillion miles. Radio waves from that distance would take a great deal longer than forty-five hours. A relay satellite would need recalibrations constantly from that distance, radio waves would still travel that distance over time but certainly faster than it would without the relay.

It rested just at the edge of Cybertronian space, sending a near constant stream of updated information in the general direction of Earth. Traveling through space, alone.

—

The surface was being blown apart by stray blaster fire and crashing ships, Hound was pinned behind a rock and swearing as he reactivated his comm, “Breakdown, I need that cover fire, now!” He was pinned, not unless he wanted to take more damage to the suit, which Hound would prefer to avoid as much as possible. Worrying the Cybertronian’s usually got his ass stuck on a shuttle back to base camp for several cycles, “In a moment, I am covering the Seekers!” Swearing, Hound peaks his head over the rock before spotting a more tactical spot, his visual feeds locking in on it. Taking a breath and breaking down his gun, shoving the extended barrel back to its storage position he throws himself over the rock, “Incoming!” He crashed to the ground and scrambled back to the slightly better bit of cover, wiping bits of blasted metal from his arm as his chest heaved.

Mirage was there, sniper rifle in hand and taking shots with better marksmanship than Hound has even had while in the military, the white and blue mech looked over, smiled awkwardly before returning to his own part of the fight. Turning off his comm for a moment, Hound smacks the back of his head against the rock, “Mirage, why did it have to be Mirage? Why couldn’t I have found cover with Jazz or fragging Megatron.” Mirage and Hound had run out of things to talk about after two weeks of knowing each other. Now just around six months down the line, it was out right awkward whenever the two of them were stuck anywhere close together. People spoke behind their hands and would giggle whenever they had to work together.

That was one thing, Hound certainly would never be able to deny. Him and Mirage worked together just as well as Jazz and Prowl, maybe even better if he said so himself.

Yet, they hardly spoke, mainly according to the general gossip, because Mirage felt too awkward to ask about his life before the fight and Hound certainly didn’t want to talk about it anyway. Reactivating his comm, Hound glances over, “How’s it looking out there?” Mirage was starting through his scope, “No worse than the usual for this territory. You’ll have an opening once the Seekers drop the bombs.” He signed out evenly and took another shot, smiling. Hound took a breath, setting his gun briefly in his lap to adjust his visor, “Alright, you going to cover me?” “Always.” Mirage smiled for a second but froze and his face turned a soft shade of pink before he cleared his throat, “I’ve got your back.” Hound smiled a bit, “Thanks.” Taking another breath he took up his gun and steadied himself, “Going over.” Sparing Mirage the briefest of looks, he went over the top of the cover as the Seekers dropped their bombs, heading in a line towards the crashed ship and Hound took on the first Quintesson he saw head on, grabbing at it with the practiced ease of nearly five hundred successful missions now.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were across the battlefield, cleaving a Quintesson in half together, getting splattered with gore. Both were laughing like the maniacs they were. Swinging back together, they moved in synch, both breathing at the same time and adjusting slightly, “You feeling good Sides?” “Yeah, you Sunny?” “Definitely.” Then both turned lightly as blaster fire went just barely over their head, spotting the second sniper off in the distance. Sunstreaker lightly salutes in his direction before turning and raising his new blaster, the small tank on it was reinforced to not explode if hit, shooting an approaching Quint in its face while Sideswipe ran up to its side. Cause and effect, distraction. Within the instant, Sunstreaker was on the other side and they hit it together.

Breakdown was laying covering fire near where the Seekers were taking off, preventing the Quintessons from getting any closer, he was the most active on comms; “Their coming in from the west, around a few hundred meters from the initial crash site.” His visual feed zoomed in easily, checking the area, while his cannon continued to blow apart the land between the enemy and landed seekers, “We’ve got injured north of my position that I’ll bring to you as soon as it’s clear.” “Copy Breakdown, moving twins towards incoming on the west side and dispatching medic to the line closest to your position.” Prowl’s voice was calm, clearly adjusting the plan and stats for the fight overall. Taking a breath, Breakdown adjusts his stance a bit to up the charge for his cannon, just at the corner of his visual feed he could see the familiar red of the medic come speeding his way.

The sky lit up with gunfire from the seekers, turning the dark evening into day briefly.

Jazz was on the other side of the runway, tearing apart Quintessons like shredding paper. Though they couldn’t see it, everyone knew he was smiling behind that visor, “Alright, clear for next launch.” He was for the moment tasked with keeping the runway clear, but kept looking to other parts of the battle, “Thank you for remaining where you’re supposed to Jazz.” Prowl’s voice was biting, “I haven’t moved!” Several people chuckled over comms, “No, but you’re certainly thinking about it.” “That’s hardly fair.” With a quick movement, he pulls his gun and shoots an approaching Quintesson, “I am simply saying that for the moment you are following the plan,” “Stop arguing like a married couple over comms.” Hound’s voice was almost painfully loud for them both, the comm line erupted with laughter. Some things would always translate.

In the distance the few cybertronian’s on the battlefield were huddled together in a typical attack maneuver, draw the enemies attention for the strange mechanicals to handle. It was gruesome and heartbreaking, but necessary for all their survival. Only a handful of cybertronian’s were out solo on the field, not counting the seekers in the air, but only those who have taken down several Quintessons on their own were able to be out fighting with the strange mechanicals.

—

Base camp was a simple handful of light construction buildings, several spaces with seating surrounding heaters and the quote unquote medical tent. A few mecha would assemble it while the initial battle started, it usually being far enough back that it wouldn’t be affected by the fight. There was a place for the cybertronians to get fuel and the general command center, it was just a typical base camp for any military based altercation.

The humans were sitting around one of the heaters, laughing and covered nearly helm to ped in gore, truthfully it made several mecha uneasy.

Sunstreaker was lightly picking at his hands, trying to get the worst of it out of the joints while Jazz was laughing, shaking out an arm which was covered in effectively slime, “Yeah, so when that big one started to come for the runway, what else was I supposed to do?” He chuckles lightly, Hound shakes his head, “Stuck to orders and let the seekers blow it up from the sky maybe.” “Yeah Jazz, I think you’re going to be in the dog house tonight.” Everyone briefly paused as the translator popped up with it’s typical error words and it sent Jazz, Sunstreaker, and Hound back into fits of roaring laughter. Sideswipe flicked some of the gore covering his hands at Sunstreaker’s visor, “Hey!” He was quick in his revenge, splattering Sideswipe with some from his chest, clearing off the number emblazoned there.

“I think you should be glad that Prowl is back in Iacon,” Hound lightly scratches at his jaw, frowning at the gore caked to his plating a bit, “Otherwise the guy would have your head.” Jazz, with his camera still on, rolled his eyes in the corner of their visual feeds, “Oh please, he knows that when shit is hitting the fan I’m going to do what I do best.” The twins were now rolling around on the ground, shoving at each other’s visors and had turned off their translators. Sighing deeply, Hound sits back and pulls a polishing cloth he’d gotten from medical from his chute compartment to start cleaning up. Jazz pulls one himself, starting to wipe down his arms, “Also says the guy who ended up on the wrong side of the field, why were you over near Mirage in the first place?” Hound flicks his own gore at Jazz, scowling a bit, “Mirage’s position was moved this morning, just before we landed.” The hum from Jazz was clearly not convinced, the twins continued to roll around on the ground shoving at each other.

Over near the medical tent, Breakdown was helping one of the injured under Knockout’s orders. He wasn’t sure how he constantly got roped into this, the twins thought it was funny and Hound suggested it was based on his suits weight class though he wasn’t convinced. The medic was too nice to him, when compared with everyone else and it was starting to become awkward. Having to turn down assistance whenever he dealt with torn lines or ripped cable, glancing back towards the group he sighs and helps the mech to the bed, “There you are.” “Well, thank you handsome.” A familiar voice crooned and Breakdown lowered his head awkwardly, “Um, you’re welcome Knockout.” Knockout came over and started to tend to the injured mech, Breakdown quickly stepping back. It was generally kept a secret, how toxic energon was to the humans, though many mecha had clocked how they didn’t eat any, “You should stay and have your own shoulder tended to.” The typical worry was there and Breakdown clears his throat, “I am fine Knockout, thank you. I should be going.” He didn’t spare a glance in his retreat, even as Knockout called after him for a moment, swearing at the man’s back.

Most mecha worried for their odd mechanical counterparts, the new frontliners, as they took a lot more damage than a normal mech could stand. Some worried more than others of course, but they generally tried to keep that to themselves.

Hound was still trying to clean his arm as Breakdown sat next to him, sighing deeply, “I think we worry the medic.” Nodding a bit, he doesn’t even look up, “We take a lot of damage and don’t fuel like they do, of course we're going to worry the guy.” Breakdown rests his chin against one hand, the one of them least covered in gore though the connection for his cannon was charred and had a few sparking wires, Hound glances over for a moment before tilting his head, “We have to reinforce that again?” Barely sparing it a glance, Breakdown shrugs, “If they keep upgrading it, then yes.” Jazz looks over and whistles, “Yeah, they’ll think that is painful.”

The ground shook lightly as a very imposing figure approached, the twins glanced up from their fight and the five of them shared a look, “Hound, I would appreciate a word with you and your humans.” Technically, the term human didn’t translate but most of the mecha understood that it was the name of their species, Hound worried it would reveal their organic nature but kept that worry along with a million others to himself, “Yes sir.” He moves to stand but Megatron waves it off, moving and taking one of the twins' seats as they were sitting on the ground, “I hope… that you are doing well.” Hound stared for a minute, not really sure what to say and glanced towards Jazz before looking back, “We’re fine, Sir.” He clears his throat a bit, “Uh, is that all or do you have specific concerns?” Hound’s head tilted lightly, worrying at his lip a bit, “If this has something to do with the minor injuries, we will tend to them.” Jazz nods a bit, “Yes sir, we’re fine.” Megatron was staring at them, then clears his throat, “And I fear my concerns might be more psychological. I know it can be difficult to be away from home and you all have thrown yourselves into this fight.” Hound was almost relieved, nodding a bit, “Yes sir, of course we miss home but no more than usual. As for the fighting, you understand our stance on that.” Jazz almost cringed.

Megatron’s face said enough, “Yes, I know your stance on that subject. I will continue to have my concerns.” Sunstreaker waves a hand, “Megatron, sir, if we didn’t want to be in this fight we wouldn’t be here nor have signed up for the testing in the first place.” He moves around and brings himself up next to Jazz, “We love kicking Quintesson butt.” Sideswipe nodded, “Yeah, it’s not like any of us could have done anything else. This or time, so.” He shrugs a bit, Megatron was staring at him now, “Time? I don’t believe that translated correctly.” Hound tried not to face palm, nodding a bit, “Their talking about jail or prison, doing something illegal and it’s punishment.” It took a long moment before Megatron gave a reaction to anything, “So it was fight or go to the stockade.” Hound paused, “Well,” “Yeah, we were doing some dumb stuff before we became useful.” Hound leveled Sunstreaker with a look before turning back to Megatron, “Not all of us were facing jail time before we signed up.” “Oh?” Megatron leaned forward some, trying to keep a neutral expression, “Breakdown and I were in the military and we all were tested for compatibility.” Breakdown nodded, “It’s easy to feed your family when you have a government job, it was going to be this or deal with the KGB.” Jazz nearly fell off his seat, “That’s not funny Breakdown!” Breakdown just shrugged.”

Megatron was still staring intently, “That did not translate well either, it was a series of glyphs.” Jazz clears his throat painfully and rubs at his neck, “So uh, that old story of yours of what used to be the DJD? That but for a section of our planet and bigger, a lot bigger.” Breakdown nods slowly, “It no longer exists now, but I was still conscripted.” Hound had his face in his hand, mumbling quietly before looking up, “My father was in the military, it was the life that I knew. We all have our reasons for getting tested, right Jazz?” Jazz nods a bit, “Mine are a lot less bad, compared to jail, mandatory military service, and aging out of your placement. I was just approached by the boss after a fight because of my looks.” Megatron looked at Jazz, “What was your job before this Jazz?” With a bit of a chuckle, Jazz shrugged some, “I had a bunch but I wanted to be a DJ before the Quints attacked.” Sideswipe nodded, grinning, “That would have been so cool!” Jazz grins, “Thank you.” Hound was watching Megatron and watching how his temperature was rising.

It only took another second or two before Megatron was up and storming off, the twins staring after the large mech, “What’s gotten into him?” Jazz watched and sighed, “Man, I hate having to talk to Optimus after this stuff.” Hound shifted forward, “Does this have anything to do with the cost of living conversation?” Jazz leveled him with a glare, “Just a bit, you know. Revolutionary for the oppressed thinks our planet is horrible.” Sunstreaker shrugs a bit, Sideswipe nods a bit, “I mean, is he really wrong?” Hound smacked him upside the head, rolling his eyes, “This isn’t funny.” Sideswipe rubbed at his head while several mecha started to finally make their way over to them now that Megatron had left.

—

Megatron was quick, storming into command and sending Red Alert out to contact Optimus, grumbling loudly as he did so. Optimus answered on the first ring, “Megatron, how is the front?” He stared for a long moment, “I wish for the humans to go back through evaluations.” Optimus’s servos came up rubbed at his faceplates, “They go through them the same as everyone else, they won’t go through another for a half a stellar cycle.” Megatron growled and Optimus looked at him sympathetically, “They are who they are, at some point they will understand.” His helm lowered and Megatron sighed deeply, closing his optics, “They deserve better.” “Of course they do, but they are saving us.” It hung in the air, the reality of their situation.

In the distance, several mecha were sat around a heater, laughing with other mecha, and desperately avoiding the others' food. They would have to eat soon and sleep, but for now there was a lull in the fight and a moment for peace. Jazz was on comm with Prowl, getting his ear chewed off. Hound was listening to Mirage, nodding slowly in confusion. The twins were talking with a few mecha who they’d become fast friends with, Sunstreaker had Bluestreak sat incredibly close to him. Breakdown was speaking with Mirage, trying to help Hound out of the awkward situation.

A message on the relay satellite, still several years from its destination.

———

A/N

Wow, alright. This was supposed to be done and out yesterday, that didn’t happen cause I was at the hospital for like four hours. Just basic medical stuff, I have run of the mill kinda stuff and have to go in every few months. Anyways, I don’t know how I feel about this part, I want to do some more in depth stuff next part but I wanted to get the initial time skip out of the way.

I promise more stuff is coming, better conversations, etc.

The others are having a harder time than Jazz adjusting, I hope that’s coming across in this but IDK. They very much stick to themselves whenever they can, hence why the others come to them typically. And there will be more about the alien food in the next part as well.

I am so glad you all seem to be enjoying this. I’m loving getting to write like I am.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU!

[dp-cookbook-project]

Project Update: May 15th

As I'm getting the last few recipes submitted, I've been thinking about the scope of this project and when I should set deadlines, so- here it goes;

Recipe Submission Deadline: June 25th You can submit here (and here ONLY, anything submitted in my inbox or comments will NOT be counted!)

Artist Interest Check Deadline: July 10th I've had several people express interest in providing art for the project, and although I was planning on handling the visuals on my own- I also think having others within the community to help would cut production time.

The form may be filled out here, and be aware that there are limited slots (3) and to not take it personally if you aren't selected. (Keep in mind before filling out that this will be an unpaid position, as it is a passion project).

Projected final deadline: October 25th? Assuming everything goes to plan, I am shooting for an October release. It also depends on if we get work done early- though I'd like to take as long as needed to ensure a quality final product.

This is not written in stone and is subject to change, so keep an eye out for updates.

[cutewebgraphics]

would you want to live your life at your current age but back in the 2000s when websites like MySpace and stuff were still around so you'd have more cool stuff to put on ur blog n share w/ ppl?

Hi!

That's a really really good question ...... within the scope of blogging and graphics hoarding, yes! Antiquated operating systems, the dial-up to modem transition... I would have loved to live during the custom HTML heyday, watch as visual trends wax and wane, learn editing techniques of the time using era-appropriate software, see the graphics world grow in front of my very eyes... <3 It sounds sooo so dreamy, I've thought of it myself and sometimes I kick my legs and fawn over the idea @//@ I'm no longer a teen, so maybe it would be a lot of fun if I could dial my age a few years back and go through my teen years then - more time to waste on the computer, right? x)

Not all hope is lost though! I went out to a gig a few weeks ago and stumbled upon someone who is also super into NeoCities and web graphics in real life. 20,000 followers (woah!) has to mean something about the life left in this community, too. Sooo exciting that the amateur Web is quietly making a comeback...!!!!

[nanomooselet]

Stampede Plant Talk

#if you want to add the rest of your points please do!

Do you realise what you've unleashed.

Not to ruin the magic, but when I write my analyses it's often inspired by visuals. So I figured the best place to start would be with this visual. Like... that's simple, isn't it?

I thought, obviously blue is Knives's colour while Vash's is red. Healthy Plants glow blue, dying ones dim to red. It would seem blue is for Plants and red is for humans. And so clearly Knives is aligned with the Plants, and embracing his Plantness, while Vash is more human and thus aligned with humanity… right?

Yeah, no.

Truthfully if there's a definitive visual motif for the twins, it's not expressed in terms of something that dualistic. But that's a little outside the scope of this post.

A dependent, Vash says, needs a human to take care of it, or the Plant just uses its energy up all at once and dies. I'm guessing that means: what a Plant will produce, when and in what quantity is in the hands of the technician programming it. Being Independent means a Plant has all that under personal control. They all produce different kinds of energy and matter (which are, in a complicated scientific way, the same thing in different states). They are essentially living generators - machines.

They're still made out of meat, though. For some reason. (They do look like sea creatures, and the higher plane is very oceanic in appearance.)

Having the Plant produce more than its Gate can withstand producing means it's left only with the energy reserves of its body to sustain it. The Last Run harvests that energy. Resembles very very rapidly developing dehydration - eyes bulging, skin blackening, skin tightening. It's a very ugly way to die. Their bulbs go red, and then go dark, because the fluid they're in is clouded with blood. The same is true of when they're cut off from the higher plane because they're been overworked.

Dr. Conrad said to Knives that these Plants couldn't be healed in the way Knives demanded of him, and I think he's being truthful. Because Vash also didn't heal the Plant at Jeneora Rock.

In the pictures above, they're at the "terminal stage"; using them any more would push it into a Last Run. Note the colour. Red as blood.

These are the ones Vash does heal. More pink than red, lighter - brighter.

Vash isn't donating energy to a Plant when he heals it; the ones aboard Ship 3 weren't dying because they were overworked or injured. The SEEDS fleet didn't make use of the Last Run, nor did they have to rely on a dwindling number of Plants to survive. They were in deep space on a journey taking hundreds of years, with all those people whose cryosleep had to be maintained. They weren't in crisis. They were planning for a long journey to build a better world at their destination, not a crash. Plants that glow blue/white are healthy. It was paradise; no one had to struggle to survive.

Luida says the problem with these Plants is that they aren't compatible with the environment they're in, and she is a geo-Plant specialist. I believe her.

Vash's super special healing power? The job only he can do? Vash is not being made to act like a battery, giving up his lifeforce to keep everyone else alive. He's not sacrificing himself. That's what Knives assumed, because that's all he sees humans do. (A whole one time before he started killing people.)

Plants do communicate with sound, but not in a frequency humans seem capable of hearing and I suspect it's because they use their Gates. Dependent Plants - and Knives - can only produce a sound. Their Gates are one-way.

Vash's Gate is two-way. He can both produce and receive. He can exchange.

He can have a dialogue.

He's hearing the Plants when they cry out for help then just... going to talk with them. Understanding them. Helping them feel more comfortable. Keeping them company. When Luida asked him so kindly to be a counsellor for the Plants, she said what she meant and she meant what she said.

Vash is a Plant therapist. And he's a good one! He travelled everywhere accompanied by his stepdad just… being kind to humans and Plants, looking after them, teaching them how to take care of each other. And he loves doing it. It's the happiest he looks after the Fall. Brad even tells him, in a very Brad kind of way, that he's done a great job; travelling with this brat beats what it was like just after the crash. And then he gives Vash water and Vash tells him he's a nice guy (and Brad gets offended lmao).

The one who assumes the humans were hurting or using him was as per fucking usual Millions Knives! Because that gives him an excuse to take bloody revenge! And everybody fell for his bullshit! Man, I'm beginning to think when Studio Orange directed Austin Tindle to make Knives sound villainous, they made the right decision.

Now, if you want to be sad?

Vash is doing so much good. He loves doing it. He's the only one who can.

But Rem wanted to see Plants and humans understand each other and she's gone. Vash is fulfilling her dream, but he's doing it alone.

Now compare the colour of his coat to the colour of the Plants. Which matches more closely? The ones who are forced to work beyond their capacity, their bodies gruesomely and horribly used without their consent for the benefit of humans?

Or the ones in emotional distress?

[superlinguo]

Superlinguo 2024 in review

I returned to full time work after a year of parental leave. That, alone, would have been enough for this year. Unfortunately, it turned into a terrible year at my university, with key senior colleagues in my department losing their jobs.

I like these reviews most year, but looking back on last year it feels even more important than usual to remember that there were some good things that happened in spite of everything going on with my university.

Lingthusiasm in 2024

Lingthusiasm turned 8! We maintained our regular pace, posting a dozen main episodes as well as our monthly bonus episodes for patrons. We plotted our vowels and covered a wide range of topics, including some great interviews with guests.

We launched our perfectly calibrated, Very Serious ‘Which Lingthusiasm episode are you?’ quiz guide you!

We were also reviewed in the New York Times, were featured in Lauren Passell’s Podcast the Newsletter, and conducted our final survey in the trilogy we planned.

We released a new sticker/badge that says "Ask Me About Linguistics", new merch that says "more people have read the text on this shirt than I have" and a range of merch with a very elegant Gavagai from Lucy Maddox, which are both available alongside merch for all kinds of linguists and language fans.

Main episodes

A politeness episode, if you please (transcript)

Helping computers decode sentences - Interview with Emily M. Bender (transcript)

OooOooh~~ our possession episode oOooOOoohh 👻 (transcript)

Welcome back aboard the metaphor train! (transcript)

Lo! An undetached collection of meaning-parts! (transcript)

The perfectly imperfect aspect episode (transcript)

How nonbinary and binary people talk - Interview with Jacq Jones (transcript)

Brunch, gonna, and fozzle - The smooshing episode (transcript)

Scoping out the scope of scope (transcript)

What visualizing our vowels tells us about who we are (transcript)

Connecting with oral culture (transcript)

No such thing as the oldest language (transcript)

Bonus episodes

Crochet vocal tract, grammar is a team sport, gifs, and soy sauce - Deleted scenes from Jacq Jones, Emily M. Bender, and Tom Scott team interviews

Metaphors be with you! Lingthusiasm x Let’s Learn Everything crossover episode

Linguistic Travel - Estonia, Mundolingua, and Martha’s Vineyard

Xenolinguistics 👽

Behind the Scenes on the Tom Scott Language Files

Don’t you love to do a “do” episode?

The best and worst comparatives episode

Linguistic mixups - spoonerisms, mondegreens, and eggcorns

Secret codes and the joy of cryptic word puzzles

Inner voice, mental pictures, and other shapes for thoughts

How we made vowel plots with Bethany Gardner

Are thumbs fingers and which episode of Lingthusiasm are you? Survey results and a new personality quiz

Themself, Basque ergativity cartoons, and bad swearing ideas - Deleted scenes from Kirby Conrod, Itxaso Rodriguez-Ordoñez, and Jo Walton and Ada Palmer

Top Superlinguo posts in 2024

I honestly expected to have nothing to post here, so it's lovely to know that I do still get small changes to blog throughout the year.

General posts

Research Data Management. Or, How I made multiple backups and still almost lost my honours thesis.

Thinking With Your Hands, Susan Goldin-Meadow (Review)

How to Talk Language Science with Everybody, Laura Wagner & Cecile McKee (Review)

Himalayan Linguistics turns 20: Celebrating two decades of Diamond Open Access publish

Himalayan Linguistics, Linguistics Vanguard and the Australian Journal of Linguistics - my three journal editorial hats

2024 LingComm Grants – Small Grants for Communicating Linguistics to Wider Audiences

2024 LingComm Grantees: New linguistics projects for you to follow

New gesture Emoji in Unicode 15.1: Head Shaking Horizontally and Head Shaking Vertically (aka shake and nod!), and (finally) right facing emoji

Academic articles in 2024

Four publications this year, across lingcomm, gesture and emoji. I also spent a lot of this year finishing Gesture: A Slim Guide, which will be out with OUP in 2025.

McCulloch, G. & L. Gawne. 2024. Towards a theory of linguistic curiosity: applying linguistic frameworks to lingcomm and scicomm. Linguistics Vanguard 10(s3): 181-189. DOI: 10.1515/lingvan-2024-0073 [OA published version][blog summary]

Gawne, L., & Cooperrider, K. (2024). Emblems: Meaning at the interface of language and gesture. Glossa: a journal of general linguistics. doi: 10.16995/glossa.9705 [OA published version][blog summary]

Cabraal, A. & L. Gawne. 2024. Using emoji as a creative tool for data analysis. In H. Kara, D. Mannay & A. Roy (Eds), The Handbook of Creative Data Analysis, 201-212. Bristol: Polity Press.

Gawne, L., G. McCulloch, N. Sweeney, R. Alatalo, H. Bodenhausen, C. Riley & J. Grieser. 2024. Creating Inclusive Linguistics Communication: Crash Course Linguistics. In A. Charity Hudley, C. Mallinson, and M. Bucholtz (Eds), Inclusion in Linguistics, 383-396. Oxford University Press. [Open Access PDF][blog post summary]

The year ahead

After a year of upheaval, next year will be a time of rebuilding. There will be a new team, a new curriculum, and I'm not silly enough to assume that also means a new, manageable pace of work. I'll still be sharing work here and recording Lingthusiasm. I've also been spending more time on Bluesky, perhaps I'll see you there?

Browsing old Superlinguo content?

I have a welcome page on the blog that points you to aggregate posts, and series of posts I've done over the years, as well as themed collections of posts that have appeared on the blog in the last twelve years.

Previous years

Superlinguo 2023 in review

Superlinguo 2022 in review

Superlinguo 2021 in review

Superlinguo 2020 in review

Superlinguo 2020 (2019 in review)

Superlinguo 2019 (2018 in review)

Superlinguo 2018 (2017 in review)

Superlinguo 2017 (2016 in review)

Superlinguo 2015 highlights

[dcdreamblog]

Would it be appropriate to ask about your co-workers?

I have been sitting on this one for a WHILE, taking my time to get everything together because I think this is a really good "excuse" to expand the scope of things a bit. Plus I wanted to make sure I got as much of this from the proverbial horse's mouth as possible. Gave me an excuse to really get to know my co-workers and make myself neighborly. So I'm going to profile the people that I work with the closest down below the best I can. The only problem is I'm not super comfortable pasting photos of these people all over the internet so we're all going to have to deal with my art and pretend its not a crime against the visual medium ok? Ok.

Also I saved this for my birthday (5/1/25 barring some sort of unforeseen catastrophe) as a gift to myself since I was excited to write and a gift to your Krins for being my best customer ;P

(I know, I KNOW. Let's just ignore my art and move along shall we)

Ahmed Gustseriev - Security.

Gender: Male

Place of Birth: Nazran, Ingushetia, Russia (Former USSR)

Nicknames: The Fridge Favorite Superhero: Red Star

This one might end up being the shortest because I already did a whole post on Ahmed not too long ago! But as you can see from my..."rendering" he really is trying to connect with his Muslim roots after retiring from his near lifelong role as a Rocket Red as seen by his full beard and traditional papakha head covering! I really cannot do justice to how much LIFE is evident on this man's face when you're looking at him. Just by looking him in the eye you notice a dozen wrinkles and scars that tell you he has been put through the meat grinder more than once and the only thing that happened is the grinder got shredded in his wake. We call him "The Fridge" because he stops people cold just by looking at them and because he is LITERALLY wider at the shoulder than our office fridge. Whenever any of us are having a problem with an attendee we don't even have to call him over before he's pushing his shadow down on top of the trouble maker like it weighs a ton. I have never, EVER seen an instigator argue with him. I can only recall a handful of times he's had to actually speak to someone he was escorting out of the building. Before I go too far into making him seem like an unapproachable badass, he really does make me feel as safe as possible at all times. He's the reason I can always stand my ground face to face to police, to conspiracy theorists, he's always backing us up and he's proud to do it. Also he really likes tea. ALSO ALSO he has asked me to say that he has four cats, he says anyone familiar with Muslims will not be surprised by this. Bless 'im.

Mandy McManus-Washington - Engineering

Gender: Female

Place of Birth: Fawcett City, Pennsylvania, USA

Nicknames: Mandy Marvel Favorite Superhero: Mary Marvel

Is there a problem needs solving? A bench unlevel? A drinking fountain on the fritz? Is an electronic making a really annoying noise on your rounds? Is your life just plain a little bit too boring today? Get on that walkie talkie and call up Mandy Marvel! Does anyone remember the multiple times I have spoken about the intense and almost disproportionate pride that people from Fawcett City happen to have for their community? Mandy is why, even if she is on the far northern extreme of Fawcett pride her existence is demonstrative. She has a lightning bolt band "necklace" tattoo along her collarbone with matching versions on both wrists and ankles and a bullet tattooed in flight on both shoulders and thighs just in case we were ever worried she forgot Fawcett's original #1 heroes. She has black fingernails, piercings in her nose, tongue and three in her ears, I have never once seen her without a pair of fingerless gloves and a pair of grey overalls that may or may not be surgically attached to her. She seems to subsist on photosynthesis, Monster Energy and making every piece of machinery in her line of sight sit up, shut up and say uncle. She will never be satisfied with her day if she doesn't exit the building with a few extra centimeters of soot DIFFERENCE from the few centimeters of soot she walked IN with. She's a wild energizer to be around, my job will never be boring while she and I work in the same place and she's just so friendly. She always wants to talk, wants to joke, wants to share and she just brings a buzz to any conversation no matter how mundane.

Gwen - Occult Consultant

Gender: Genuinely No Idea

Place of Birth: Ditto

Nicknames: I Don't Even Know if GWEN is a Nickname Favorite Superhero: Rose Psychic

This one is slightly cheating because Gwen doesn't actually work here at the Perisphere. No, I know Gwen because of this blog. When I started to get questions of a magical nature which is far, FAR beyond my area of education I started tugging on some threads to see if I could find a guiding hand so I didn't make a fool of myself. Gwen so graciously offered their services after we met up at a little coffee shop I cannot remember the name of and that does not seem to exist at the address that I went to. Strange.

Other than that Gwen's great! Any time of day or night if I happen to have a question of the arcane variety I can shoot it off to them and start talking through it. These conversations started to drift over time and it turns out we're into a lot of the same anime and the like and ever since then we've been hanging out outside of work. We've been trying to complete one escape room a week and its been a blast. You make friends in the strangest spaces I suppose.

I don't know much about Gwen, like the bio up above implies. I don't pry and the surface details aren't as obvious as some people would like to think. They have thick glasses, a dark coat and a mohawk. They're also missing the first joint of the pinkie on their right hand. Oh AND their favorite My Hero character is Kyoka. Gwen you can't get mad at me for saying that when you have THREE Kyoka key chains attached to your wallet!

Rodney "Rod" Rosenwein - Youth Tour Guide

Gender: Male

Place of Birth: Brooklyn, New York, USA Nicknames: שְׁרִיר/Shemrir, Hebrew for Muscle Favorite Superhero: Seraph

Finally we get to the guy I work with closest in any given work day. Where as I am the tour guide for our full, multi hour, beat by beat tour. Rod is the guy in charge of giving our abridged tours and, most importantly, is the person put in charge of school trips or other large gatherings where there are expected to be children present. He does this with jaw dropping aplomb, oftentimes I will hear him crack a joke from all the way across the hall and I almost half the swallow my tongue to keep from losing my shit in front of my much more serious/much less fun tour groups. Rod is from Brooklyn, making him the only native New Yorker among us. He's Jewish as evidenced by the bright silver Star of David that he always wears hanging down in front of his t shirt. He has a MONSTROUS head of black hair that usually cover his dark brown eyes. He also has an outside hobby of BODYBUILDING which is something he can always find some way to show off, especially because the casual nature of his tours puts him in a lot more t-shirts and khakis compared to my collared shirt and slacks.

If I had to define him by one thing it would be a kind of...sardonic kindness. He is always making sarcastic quips to see the reactions of the people around him but its impossible for it to escalate because of the smile that always accompanies his jokes. He's, for instance, the only one who can make Ahmed crack a smile on a regular basis. He's always encouraging to his coworkers and to the students who are placed under his supervision. I have never seen someone who can so easily inspire kids of any age to look at our defenders in a new light. Even if his puns are terrible enough to make me want to throw things sometimes. These are just general overviews but that's the fun part, this is them giving me permission to open the floodgates so to speak. If you folks have questions that you think might better be answered by one of them, want to know more about them, or just want to see what they'd say, that's an option that we have now. Happy Birthday to me! And here's to the greatest job in the world!

[asaraviapt]

[EN] Video Game Writing Resources!

Hello! My name is Andrea--I have been writing for games since 2018, and even worked as a writer at Firaxis Games from 2022 until April of 2023. So, I knew a few things about narrative design--but what the fuck is it? Recently, I gave a talk about the fundamentals and history of the field of narrative design. In Spanish. So, let's talk about it in English--the "what," "why," "how," "when," and "who," of narrative design! What is narrative design? Narrative design is not just writing--it's a huge part of it, but designing a narrative system involves implementing narrative content into the build of the game. So there is a technical learning curve to it. Personally, I watched and obtained certifications in Unreal Engine 5 and Unity in order to be aware of the limitations of each engine. I used the free trial of LinkedIn Learning, but courses about this engine are available in these websites: - https://platzi.com/ - https://www.arkde.com/ - https://www.domestika.org/?query=unity - https://www.coursera.org/ Why do we need narrative design? In order to create an interactive story that the player feels a part of, narrative designers are mandatory. It's not a responsibility that can be placed on other designers (then we would be entering crunch territory) rather someone who specifically specializes in both creative writing and game design is needed to explain within the context of the game's story why the mechanics work in a certain way. Imagine if a Telltale game did not have dialogue, for example--what would we be left with? Or if The Last Of Us did not convey a narrative through its environments.

Narrative designers are needed so that all of the departments are in sync and understand the story that they are trying to tell. For example, if a game takes place in a haunted house that was abandoned, we need all hands on deck. The narrative designer can explain to the environment artists why there are so many holes in the living room--perhaps the last tenants of the house were a rowdy bunch. Or, they can tell the sound designers which planks of wood are the most rotten and need a loud sound effect to highlight how it has been abandoned. How do I become a narrative designer? There is no one way to become a narrative designer. Some people start in QA and transition into the field, I have also witnessed engineers and doctors wanting to get into narrative design. I do recommend having the following (at least): - A passion for storytelling. - Deep understanding of the mechanics of the game and the player experience. - Communication skills are incredibly important--can you describe your story in a concise way to your peers in a Confluence page?

Documentation skills are also a massive plus.

Very basic understanding of game engines and limitations. You don't have to be a computer science major, but know what your requests will entail. If you have an idea of a cutscene, can the engine handle it? Will the animators have enough time? Is it within scope?

If you can, attend game jams! They are an amazing way to network with amazing people and get a feel of what the game production pipeline is like.

Additionally, I highly recommend the following resources: First, the free resources! ~It's free real estate~

Look up Twinery tutorials. (https://twinery.org/) Not only is it free, but you can use it on your browser. More importantly, you will learn about branching narratives and can create your own games within a few minutes--the interface, though it requires a bit of coding, is incredibly easy to use and there are a lot of tutorials available online.

Download Ren'Py (https://www.renpy.org/) and watch tutorials. It's free, and there is a huge community of visual novel developers who may need help with narrative designers, writers, editors and even translators. An amazing resource that a colleague shared was this Discord with visual novel developers--if you have an idea, feel free to connect with artists and voice actors here! https://discord.gg/nW5yn4FE

Network, network, network! Follow narrative design and game writer groups on Discord, Facebook and even LinkedIn. -- An amazing convention that is online, free and accessible regarding narrative design is LudoNarraCon.

If you go to itch.io you will see a list of game jams that you can attend to for free! Some game jams that I have attended and had a positive experience are the following: - Woman Game Jam. I encourage folks from marginalized genders to attend this game jam, as we have a large pool of mentors willing to help in every single discipline at any time due to the global nature of it. It is a safe and inclusive space for women and nonbinary folx who want to get into the gaming industry! - Global Game Jam. Self explanatory, it has some in-person opportunities but you can also attend remotely. - Greenlight Jam. Do you have an idea that can not be done in only 48 hours? The Greenlight Jam is amazing, as it lasts four weeks--which allows narrative designers to develop complex narrative systems and even record voice lines for a more complex project. Side Note: Even though most game jams have a time limit, I do encourage narrative designers to develop and polish the prototypes and levels created during game jams to have portfolios and writing samples that stand out!

Work With Indies is a job site that publishes job opportunities--including ones in writing and narrative design. Additionally, their Discord has some networking events with writers so you can connect with them.

Other websites that not only publish jobs but include networking events are Hitmarker.net (this is their Discord), IndieGameAcademy (link to Discord),

Newsletters! A lot of experienced game writers have newsletters dedicated to the craft, to name a few that I highly recommend: -- Greg Buchanan's newsletter. Rounds up game writing news every Tuesday, and includes job opportunities. -- Bright Whitney's newsletter. A studio founder with amazing insights regarding game design and thoughtful narrative, Whitney's threads are extremely insightful. -- Susan O'Connor's blog on The Narrative Department. In addition to providing free knowledge regarding world building, narrative design, game writing and other specifics of the craft Susan interviews industry professionals and alumni who offer testimonials that have amazing advice. -- GDC talks about narrative design. Though I recommend the GDC vault as well in the next section, I highly recommend the GDC talks regarding not only narrative design but the development of your favorite titles!

Now, for resources that may not be free--but I highly recommend, as someone who used them first hand. - The Narrative Department. This post is not sponsored by them at all, however it is rare to find an instructor as kind and hard-working as Susan O'Connor who has been a narrative designer in historic AAA, AA and independent titles. Known for her contributions in Tomb Raider, Batman: The Enemy Within, and BioShock to name a few (imdb is: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1897248/) her Game Writing Masterclass offers a certification in everything related to game writing. A few subjects she touches on are: -- Characters and how to make them compelling. -- Barks and ambience writing. -- Dialogue, backstories and scripts. -- How to work with other departments. And more! Additionally, you would obtain access to a huge alumni network full of game writing professionals working in independent, AA and AAA studios! Not to mention that all of the assignments completed in the class will look amazing in a portfolio as game writing samples. - GDC Vault. Though I have an opinion on the price tag of GDC tickets and the vault, I would definitely include it as it has resources from several studios, writers, narrative designers and more! When was narrative design formed? When can I become a narrative designer?

That's a wonderful question. Narrative design, as a term, was first used around the 90s but became more established between the 2000s and 2010s. So, although the field is relatively new, and there are not a lot educational resources available, consider yourself part of an innovative field that is exponentially growing! Recently, a game developer asked when was the best time to keep an eye out for job openings. And a harsh truth about the gaming industry is that it is extremely volatile--layoffs, downsizings and startups rise and fall. This is not meant to deter anyone from pursuing a career in narrative design, but rather I am including it for the sake of transparency. We cannot predict when a studio is going to layoff their employees, or when they cancel unannounced projects. Unlike most industries where we know for a fact that recruiters keep a sharp eye for candidates in Q1 and Q3, a piece of advice I received from a mentor of mine was to try to predict when projects are going to need more stories. There's the release of a game, and then there is the addition of additional narrative content--and for this, they will more than likely need associate/entry/junior level narrative designers, writers and quest designers. But--this is related to searching for a job as a narrative designer, and I can write a novel about that (and will edit this article to redirect folx into it.) So, keep an eye out for huge game announcements. Then, cater your resume to what the studio is looking for in a narrative designer. Now, to finish off this article: Who is a narrative designer? If you have a passion for storytelling and games, and have participated in game jams, congratulations you are a wonderful narrative designer! Make sure you always include that you are a narrative designer, and not an aspiring narrative designer--it makes you stand out amongst applicants. That's all I have for now--feel free to interact, comment and share! Let me know if I missed something and I will be sure to add it.

[grey-sorcery]

Title: Psychic Abilities: First Steps

Suggested Reading

Biases in Witchcraft Dualities Psychic Abilities & Mental Illness Shadow Work: First Steps Energetic Senses The Subtle Body Warding Basics

*- Closed or Semi-closed cultures/practices This article uses yellow text, which may be difficult to read outside of dark-mode.

Understanding Psychic Abilities

Psychic abilities often refer to skills or talents enabling individuals to gain information or influence beyond the scope of human senses or scientific understanding. Such capacities are frequently posited to transcend the boundaries of time, space, and matter. While they can be classified into various types – such as clairvoyance (perceiving remote or hidden information), telepathy (transmitting thoughts), and precognition (predicting future events) – the mechanisms underpinning these phenomena remain the subjects of controversy and speculation.

 Historical Perspectives

Throughout history, diverse cultures have recognized and integrated the notion of psychic phenomena into their daily lives and spiritual practices. From ancient civilizations like the Greeks and Egyptians, who consulted oracles and seers for guidance, to indigenous tribes who believed in the power of shamans and medicine people to communicate with forces beyond human perception, psychic phenomena have occupied a significant niche.

In the medieval period, psychic occurrences were often intertwined with religious or supernatural explanations. Those who claimed to possess these abilities were either revered as divinely gifted or, conversely, vilified and persecuted for heresy or witchcraft. Notably, the Renaissance and Enlightenment periods began to scrutinize such claims, emphasizing empirical evidence and rationality. This shift led to a decline in the public acceptance of psychic phenomena as mere superstitions or the result of charlatanism.

Modern Interpretations

In contemporary times, the debate surrounding psychic phenomena has bifurcated into two dominant perspectives: the skeptics and the proponents.

Skeptics, often armed with a scientific background, posit that claims of psychic abilities lack empirical evidence. They argue that such phenomena can be explained by cognitive biases, logical fallacies, or mere coincidences. For instance, the confirmation bias might lead someone to remember only the instances when a psychic prediction was accurate and dismiss those when it was not. They also highlight instances where purported psychics have been exposed as frauds, using tactics such as cold reading to feign genuine abilities.

On the contrary, proponents assert that the existence of psychic abilities is a genuine and untapped dimension of human potential. While acknowledging that fraudulence exists, they argue that there are genuine cases that defy conventional explanations. They contend that science, in its current form, may not be adequately equipped to understand or measure these phenomena. Some postulate that advancements in neuroscience, consciousness research, or quantum physics might one day elucidate the enigmatic nature of psychic abilities.

Types of Psychic Abilities 

Clairvoyance

Derived from the French words "clair" (clear) and "voir" (to see), clairvoyance essentially translates to "clear seeing." Clairvoyance refers to the claimed ability to gather information about an object, person, location, or event without any known humanly means. This phenomenon is often described as receiving visual information in the form of symbols, colors, or visions. Throughout history, many societies have revered clairvoyants as powerful figures. In some cultures, they played significant roles as advisors to rulers or as mediators between the physical and unseen worlds. Contemporary society, with its emphasis on empirical evidence, often views clairvoyance with skepticism, yet there remains a persistent cultural fascination with this ability. In many spiritual traditions, clairvoyance is seen as a heightened state of consciousness, a gift or a skill that connects the individual with higher dimensions or spiritual guides.

Telepathy

Stemming from the Greek words "tele" (distant) and "pathos" (feeling), telepathy can be understood as "distant feeling." Telepathy is the purported transmission of information between individuals without using known human sensory channels or physical interaction. It encompasses the transfer of emotions, thoughts, or even complex ideas. From ancient legends to modern science fiction, telepathic communication has captured the human imagination. While empirical research in telepathy remains inconclusive, it is a recurrent theme in popular media, underscoring the human yearning for connection. Mystic traditions may regard telepathy as a manifestation of universal interconnectedness, suggesting that at a deep level, all consciousness is one and separateness is an illusion.

Precognition

The term derives from the Latin "prae" (before) and "cognitio" (getting to know), effectively meaning "foreknowledge." Precognition involves knowledge or perception of future events before they occur, without any logical basis for such foreknowledge. This might manifest as dreams, feelings, or intuitions. Predicting the future has been a universal human pursuit, with precognitives often serving crucial societal roles as prophets, oracles, or seers. However, contemporary views on precognition are split, with skeptics pointing to cognitive biases as explanations. Many mystical traditions suggest that time, as humans perceive it, is an illusion. In such a framework, precognition might be understood as accessing timeless dimensions where past, present, and future coexist.

Claircognizance

"Clair" (clear) combined with "cognizance" (knowledge) indicates "clear knowledge." Claircognizance denotes an intuitive ability to just "know" something, without any logical basis or prior information. Individuals with this ability might suddenly know facts, insights, or understandings without knowing how they acquired them. The concept of inherent knowledge or insight is recognized in many cultures, often attributed to divine inspiration or profound intuition. However, in a world valuing empirical data, such spontaneous knowledge can be met with skepticism. Some spiritual interpretations posit that claircognizance is a connection to universal knowledge or the collective consciousness, suggesting an innate ability to tap into an omniscient source.

Clairsentience

Combining "clair" (clear) with "sentience" (feeling), clairsentience means "clear feeling." Clairsentience refers to the ability to physically feel or emotionally sense the energy or emotions of people, places, or events. This might manifest as gut feelings, sudden mood changes, or physical sensations. Empathy and heightened sensitivity have been recognized across various cultures. While some view clairsentience as a heightened form of empathy, others approach it with caution due to its inexplicable nature. Within mystical traditions, clairsentience might be seen as an enhanced sensitivity to the energy or vibrations of the universe, reflecting a deep interconnectedness of all things.

Compulsion

Derived from Latin "compellere," meaning "to drive or push together." Compulsion, in this context, refers to the purported ability to influence another's thoughts or actions without overt persuasion or physical interference. Historical records are replete with tales of individuals who held sway over masses, their compelling presence seemingly altering the will of others. Modern interpretations often approach such claims with caution, exploring psychological mechanisms behind suggestibility. Some spiritual interpretations suggest compulsion is an exertion of one's will or energy over another, tapping into the subtle dynamics of interwoven consciousness.

Common Misconceptions

While psychic abilities have been recognized and debated for centuries, modern society often conflates them with broader supernatural phenomena. To distinguish: psychic abilities are often defined as potential innate capacities of the human psyche, whereas supernatural phenomena encompass a broader range of occurrences that supposedly defy natural laws. An example of such a conflation might be equating clairvoyance solely with ghostly apparitions or haunted locales, limiting the nuanced understanding of psychic phenomena. This conflation can be attributed to myriad factors, including cultural narratives, folklore, and limited exposure to diverse interpretations of psychic occurrences.

The Hollywood Influence

The entertainment industry, particularly Hollywood, has significantly molded perceptions of psychic phenomena. From sensationalized depictions of mediums speaking to the departed in horror movies to superheroes with telepathic abilities saving the world, these portrayals often prioritize spectacle over accuracy. While they capture the imagination and offer thrilling narratives, they may distort or exaggerate the nuances of genuine psychic experiences.

Hollywood's penchant for dramatization means that psychic abilities are frequently portrayed with an added layer of spectacle, potentially leading the general populace to harbor unrealistic or skewed expectations. For instance, telepathy in movies might be showcased as characters having fullblown conversations without speaking, while actual anecdotal accounts might reference fleeting impressions or emotions.

Skepticism and Belief

Public opinion on psychic phenomena is polarized, with skeptics and believers often at odds. Skeptics caution against gullibility, pointing to instances of fraud, the influence of cognitive biases, and the lack of empirical evidence as reasons for disbelief. On the other hand, staunch believers might dismiss skeptics as close minded or overly analytical.

However, a nuanced view acknowledges that both skepticism and belief have their merits. Blind skepticism might close one off to exploring uncharted territories of human experience, while unbridled belief risks being deceived by charlatans. An informed approach considers available evidence, remains open to possibilities, and constantly seeks deeper understanding, free from dogma.

New Age Influences and How to Avoid Them

The New Age movement, originating in the late 20th century, amalgamates various spiritual and metaphysical beliefs. While it has popularized many esoteric concepts, including some pertaining to psychic phenomena, it often does so without rigorous foundation or context.

To avoid undue New Age influences when exploring psychic phenomena:

Educate Yourself: Delve into historical, cultural, and scientific perspectives on psychic abilities. Understand that the New Age interpretation is just one among many.

Question Sources: Not all literature or speakers on psychic topics are reliable. Discern between those who have done comprehensive research and those echoing popular yet shallow narratives.

Practice Discernment: Be wary of commercialized aspects of the New Age movement, such as workshops or products that promise quick psychic awakenings without any substantial groundwork.

Theosophical Influences and How to Avoid Them

The Theosophical Society, founded in the 19th century, aimed to explore, study, and disseminate knowledge about the mystical and unknown. However, its interpretations of psychic and spiritual phenomena are specific to its doctrine.

To steer clear of Theosophical biases:

Broaden Your Horizon: While Theosophy offers a rich tapestry of esoteric thought, it's essential to explore other cultural, philosophical, and spiritual perspectives on psychic phenomena.

Recognize Distinctive Theosophical Concepts: By identifying core Theosophical tenets, one can differentiate them from other psychic or spiritual beliefs.

Engage in Open Discussion: Interacting with a diverse group of thinkers, researchers, and practitioners can help in discerning Theosophical influences from more universal or varied interpretations.

The Science Behind Psychic Abilities

Psychic phenomena have long captured human curiosity, leading to extensive investigations, both informal and academic. Over the past century, numerous institutions have endeavored to study psychic abilities under controlled conditions. These include efforts by prominent universities and independent research bodies.

One well-documented approach has been the use of Zener cards — a set of five symbols (circle, cross, waves, square, star) — to test for extrasensory perception (ESP). Participants predict the sequence of cards, and results are assessed against statistical probabilities to discern any significant deviations suggesting psychic abilities.

Another area of interest has been the study of telepathy, where participants, often in isolated chambers, attempt to transmit or receive thoughts, images, or emotions. Success rates beyond chance levels could, in theory, indicate telepathic capabilities.

Controversies and Criticisms

Despite the extensive body of research, psychic phenomena remain a contentious topic in the scientific community. Some of the primary criticisms include:

Replicability Issues: A foundational principle of science is that experiments should produce consistent results when replicated. Psychic phenomena, however, often lack this consistency, leading many to question their validity.

Methodological Flaws: Critics often point out potential flaws in the design or execution of psychic experiments. These could range from insufficient controls, potential biases, or even fraud.

Statistical Interpretations: While certain psychic studies claim statistical significance, skeptics argue that these could be anomalies or the result of incorrect data interpretation.

Potential Explanations

Given the elusive nature of psychic phenomena, several hypotheses have been proposed, ranging from the purely physiological to the quantum mechanical:

Subconscious Perception: Some suggest that what's perceived as psychic ability might be heightened sensitivity to subconscious cues. This could mean picking up on subtle body language, temperature changes, or even pheromones.

Quantum Mechanics: Some posit that the nonlocality principle in quantum physics, where particles can be interconnected over vast distances, might provide a framework for understanding psychic interconnections. Though this argument tends to be provided by those who do not understand quantum theory.

Unified Field Theory: Drawing from physics, some speculate that a yet to be discovered unified field might explain the interconnectedness of consciousness. Though this argument also tends to be provided by those who do not understand quantum theory.

Potential Biases Within Scientific Approaches

While the scientific method prides itself on objectivity, biases can infiltrate any field of study, including investigations into psychic phenomena:

Confirmation Bias: Researchers, like all individuals, can unconsciously favor data that aligns with their preexisting beliefs, potentially overlooking data that contradicts their hypotheses.

Publication Bias: Studies producing positive or sensational results are often more likely to be published than those with null or negative findings. This can skew the available literature and public perception.

Cultural and Historical Biases: Western scientific paradigms, rooted in materialism, might inherently dismiss phenomena that don't fit within this framework, whereas other cultures might approach the same phenomena differently.

It's crucial to approach psychic research with an awareness of these biases, ensuring comprehensive and balanced investigations.

Comfort with Paranormal Explanations and Experiences

Across the globe, individuals vary in their comfort levels with paranormal explanations. For some, a spiritual or mystical interpretation of an event is natural and enriching. For others, such interpretations might provoke discomfort, skepticism, or even fear.

Some cultures have rich traditions of spiritual and mystical experiences, making paranormal explanations more accepted and integrated. Direct personal experiences with phenomena that defy conventional explanations can either enhance comfort with the paranormal or, paradoxically, provoke greater skepticism. Awareness and understanding of various phenomena, whether through formal education, personal research, or exposure to diverse viewpoints, can influence one's comfort levels.

Developing Psychic Abilities: A Comprehensive Approach

The initial phase in understanding psychic abilities requires identifying subtle indications that point towards their potential presence. Historically, various cultures have believed in the capability of certain individuals to perceive information hidden from the regular senses. These potential indicators might include:

Heightened Sensitivity: Some individuals report a heightened sensitivity to their surroundings, especially in terms of emotions and energies. They often feel strong empathic connections, allowing them to sense the emotions and moods of those around them, even if subtly expressed.

Frequent Déjà vu: The sensation of having experienced something previously, even when encountering it for the first time, may indicate a potential psychic inclination. While this phenomenon can be explained by various neurological processes, some interpret it as a sign of precognitive ability.

Predictive Dreams: Though dreams often arise from the subconscious mind processing daily events, some individuals note dreams that appear to foretell future events. While not always accurate, these dreams' predictive nature often stands out due to its specificity and detail.

Practice Techniques

To nurture psychic abilities, one must employ certain techniques and exercises that are designed to enhance these potential faculties. Here are some scientificallyacknowledged methods that might be beneficial:

Meditation: Meditation is a tool that aids in focusing the mind and building awareness of one's thoughts and surroundings. By practicing regular meditation, individuals can develop a heightened sense of intuition and possibly tap into deeper levels of perception.

Mindfulness: Being present in the moment can help individuals become more attuned to their surroundings and the subtle energies therein. Practicing mindfulness, like meditation, can be a foundation for honing psychic skills by fostering a keen awareness of the world around us.

Exposure to Varied Stimuli: Engaging with diverse environments, cultures, and experiences can sharpen one's intuitive skills. By exposing oneself to a broad array of stimuli, it becomes easier to identify patterns and connections that might not be immediately obvious.

Consistent Training

Consistency is vital when cultivating any skill, and the development of psychic abilities is no exception. Regular practice and a commitment to growth are imperative. Keeping a record of experiences, feelings, and intuitions can be beneficial. Over time, patterns may emerge, providing insights into the development and accuracy of psychic abilities.

Seeking feedback from trusted sources helps in gauging the accuracy of one's psychic perceptions and offers opportunities for refinement. Engaging with literature and scholarly articles on topics like parapsychology, cognitive science, and neurology can provide a rounded understanding and facilitate better practices.

Identifying Cognitive Bias

While exploring psychic abilities, it is crucial to be aware of cognitive biases. These are systematic patterns of deviation from rationality in judgment, where individuals create their own subjective reality from their perception. Examples include:

Confirmation Bias: The tendency to seek, interpret, and remember information in a way that confirms one's preconceptions. In the context of psychic abilities, this might manifest as remembering only accurate predictions while disregarding inaccuracies.

Apophenia: The human tendency to perceive meaningful patterns within random data. This could lead individuals to believe they've identified significant psychic insights when, in fact, they're drawing connections from unrelated events.

Identifying Mental Illness Symptoms that Seem Like Psychic Abilities

It is essential to differentiate between genuine psychic experiences and symptoms of mental illnesses. Some symptoms can mimic psychic phenomena, such as:

Hallucinations: These are sensory experiences in which a person can hear, see, smell, taste, or feel something that isn't there. While some might interpret these as psychic visions or messages, they are often associated with conditions like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.

Delusions: Strongly held beliefs despite evidence to the contrary. For example, believing that one has a unique ability to predict events or read minds, when, in reality, evidence does not support these claims.

Hyperactivity and Racing Thoughts: Conditions such as bipolar disorder can lead to periods of hyperactivity and rapidly changing thoughts, which can be misconstrued as psychic energy or heightened intuition.

If you or someone you know shows symptoms of mental illness, you can find a list of assistance and services at the end of THIS article.

Psychic Abilities and the Mind

The intricate network of the human brain, with its myriad neural connections, governs how we think, act, and perceive the world. Central to our understanding of psychic abilities is the role of cognitive functions. These are the mental processes that allow us to carry out tasks, make decisions, and interpret the world around us. A cornerstone of cognition, memory allows us to store and retrieve information from the past. It's been posited that individuals who claim to have psychic abilities might have an enhanced or different utilization of memory, allowing them to recall events or details others might overlook.

The capacity to concentrate on specific stimuli or events in our environment is critical for any psychic exploration. An acute sense of attention might enable some individuals to pick up on subtle cues or information generally unnoticed by the average person. Processing Speed is the time it takes for an individual to interpret and respond to stimuli. A heightened processing speed might allow for faster interpretation of sensory input, which some argue could be linked to certain psychic phenomena.

Role of Subconscious

The subconscious mind, operating below the level of conscious awareness, is a vast reservoir of thoughts, memories, and feelings. Its role in psychic abilities is a topic of significant interest.

Our subconscious continuously processes information, even when we are not actively thinking about it. These processes can lead to sudden insights or "gut feelings" that seem to come out of nowhere but might, in reality, be the result of the subconscious working behind the scenes. While dreams are a regular part of the human experience, some propose that they can serve as a conduit for psychic information. The subconscious mind, active during dreaming, might present information in symbolic or direct ways that could be interpreted as precognitive or clairvoyant insights. The subconscious mind plays a pivotal role in our emotional responses. Some individuals claim to "feel" others' emotions, suggesting that their subconscious minds might be more attuned to emotional stimuli from the environment.

Perception and Intuition

At the intersection of psychic abilities and the mind lies the realm of perception and intuition. These faculties determine how we interpret the world and react to it, and they play a potentially significant role in psychic phenomena.

Enhanced Sensory Perception: Some who claim psychic abilities report a heightened sense of sight, hearing, or other senses. This enhanced perception allows them to detect stimuli that others might miss, potentially leading to insights that seem psychic in nature.

Gut Feelings: Intuition, often described as a "gut feeling," is a form of innate understanding or knowledge without the need for conscious reasoning. While everyone experiences intuition to some degree, its role in psychic abilities might be more pronounced. This intuitive sense might be more developed or refined in some individuals, leading to perceptions that are out of the ordinary.

Pattern Recognition: Humans are naturally inclined to seek patterns in the environment, a trait that has evolutionary advantages. However, some propose that those with psychic inclinations might have an enhanced ability for pattern recognition, allowing them to see connections or insights that might elude others.

Ethical Considerations in the Exploration of Psychic Abilities

The exploration of psychic abilities is not merely an introspective journey; it often intersects with the lives of others, especially when abilities are employed to provide insights or guidance. Herein lies the critical juncture of ethical use versus misuse.

Objective Approach: It is paramount for individuals claiming to possess psychic abilities to approach every situation with an objective mindset. Allowing biases or personal beliefs to interfere can lead to skewed interpretations, which might misguide those seeking counsel.

Financial Exploitation: With the commercialization of psychic readings and related services, there is a risk of financial exploitation. Ethical practitioners should be transparent about their services' costs and avoid exorbitant fees or manipulative tactics that compel repeated visits.

False Claims: Authenticity and truthfulness are fundamental. Individuals should refrain from making unsubstantiated claims about their abilities or the results they can achieve, as this can mislead and potentially harm others.

Respecting Privacy

Delving into the personal lives of others, whether intentionally or inadvertently, comes with significant ethical implications.

Unsolicited Readings: It is ethically questionable to provide unsolicited readings or insights into another person's life or situation. Even if one believes they have valuable information, it is essential to respect boundaries and only offer insights when explicitly asked.

Confidentiality: Similar to medical or therapeutic professions, individuals offering psychic services should maintain strict confidentiality. People's personal information, emotions, and situations should never be divulged without explicit consent.

Consideration of Potential Harm

The potential repercussions of psychic readings or interventions are not always immediately apparent. Therefore, a deep sense of responsibility and foresight is required.

Emotional Impact: Interactions can leave a lasting emotional imprint. Whether the information shared is positive or negative, practitioners must be sensitive to how it might affect an individual emotionally and mentally.

Dependency: There's a potential risk of individuals becoming overly reliant on psychic insights, sidelining their own judgment or decisionmaking abilities. Ethical practitioners should encourage autonomy and personal growth rather than fostering dependency.

Physical Actions: On rare occasions, insights or predictions might prompt individuals to take specific actions in their lives. It's crucial for those with psychic inclinations to understand the weight of their words and the potential physical ramifications they might have on others.

Psychic Abilities in Different Cultures

The concept of psychic abilities, while interpreted differently, exists in some form across various global cultures. Each culture's perspective provides a unique lens through which to understand and appreciate these phenomena.

Eastern Perspectives

In many Eastern traditions, psychic abilities are often interwoven with spiritual and philosophical systems.

Buddhism: Within Buddhist traditions, especially in Tibetan Buddhism*, there are references to "siddhis," which are supernormal powers attained through meditation and spiritual practice. These can range from clairvoyance to precognition. While these abilities are acknowledged, they're often considered secondary to the ultimate goal of enlightenment.

Hinduism*: Ancient Hindu scriptures, particularly the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, detail various psychic abilities termed "vibhuti." These abilities are said to emerge as one progresses along the path of yoga. However, they're treated with caution and are not the primary focus of spiritual development.

Daoism*: In Daoist traditions of China, psychic phenomena might be attributed to the harnessing of "qi" or vital energy. Daoist practitioners often engage in exercises to cultivate and balance qi, which in turn can lead to heightened abilities.

Western Perspectives

The Western world, influenced by a mix of JudeoChristian beliefs, scientific rationalism, and GrecoRoman philosophies, has its own take on psychic phenomena.

Ancient Greece: Oracles, like the famed Oracle of Delphi, played essential roles in ancient Greek society. These priestesses were believed to possess the ability to communicate with the gods and offer prophecies.

Medieval Europe: During the Middle Ages, individuals who claimed to have psychic abilities or other supernatural powers often faced persecution, associated with witchcraft and heresy.

Modern Era: With the rise of spiritualism in the 19th and 20th centuries, psychic abilities gained renewed interest. While often met with skepticism, especially from the scientific community, there remains a segment of the Western population that believes in and seeks out psychic experiences.

Indigenous Beliefs

Indigenous American Cultures: Among the Navajo*, there are individuals known as "hand tremblers" who are believed to diagnose illnesses or predict events. Similarly, the Lakota Sioux have "heyokas" or sacred clowns, who act in ways contrary to societal norms and offer unique insights.

Aboriginal Australians*: Dreamtime stories and spiritual beliefs play a central role in Aboriginal culture. The concept of "Dreaming" refers to both the ancient stories of creation and the personal dreamjourney of an individual, which can offer guidance and insights.

Shamanic Cultures of Siberia*: The term "shaman" originates from the Tungusic peoples of Siberia. Shamans in these cultures serve as intermediaries between the human and spirit worlds, accessing knowledge and healing through altered states of consciousness.

Maori of New Zealand*: The Maori have "tohunga," experts in specific areas, including those who interpret signs, dreams, and omens. They play a crucial role in guiding societal decisions and understanding the world.

African Cultures: Among the Dagara* of West Africa, there are individuals recognized as having a unique connection to the spirit world, often identified at a young age and trained to serve the community. Similarly, the Zulu* of South Africa have the "sangoma," traditional healers who diagnose and treat illnesses and communicate with ancestors.

Psychic Abilities and Personal Growth

The exploration of psychic abilities transcends mere curiosity about the supernatural. For many, it is an avenue towards profound personal growth, fostering a deeper understanding of oneself and one's place in the larger tapestry of human experience.

Self-awareness and Understanding

The journey into psychic phenomena often demands a heightened sense of selfawareness. This introspective path can lead to significant personal revelations.

Delving into psychic practices necessitates continual selfreflection. This process can unearth previously unrecognized aspects of one's character, beliefs, and motivations. Such insights offer opportunities for personal development and transformation. The exploration of psychic abilities can help individuals distinguish between their inner voice — that intuitive sense of knowing — and the cacophony of external influences. Recognizing and trusting this voice can guide decision making and foster a stronger sense of identity.

Some individuals believe that their psychic inclinations provide clarity about their life's purpose or direction. By tapping into these abilities, they feel more aligned with their personal and spiritual goals.

Emotional and Mental Health

The intertwining of psychic exploration and emotional and mental wellbeing is multifaceted and profound.

Processing Trauma: For some, psychic practices serve as a conduit for addressing and processing past traumas. By confronting these issues, individuals often find a path to healing and acceptance.

Managing Stress: Techniques often associated with psychic development, such as meditation and mindfulness, are beneficial for managing stress. These practices promote relaxation, mental clarity, and emotional balance.

Boosting Confidence: Recognizing and honing psychic abilities can bolster confidence. Individuals often feel empowered by their unique insights and the validation they receive from accurate perceptions or predictions.

Influence on Relationships

The ripple effects of psychic exploration extend into interpersonal relationships, shaping interactions and connections in various ways.

Enhanced Empathy: A heightened sensitivity to the emotions and energies of others can foster deeper empathy. This understanding can lead to more compassionate and supportive interactions with loved ones.

Navigating Conflicts: With increased intuition and perception, individuals might find it easier to navigate conflicts. Recognizing underlying issues or emotions can facilitate communication and resolution.

Building Trust: For those who share their psychic experiences with close friends or family, it can foster trust. When perceptions or insights prove accurate, it reinforces the bond between the psychic individual and those they interact with.

Psychic Abilities and Shadow Work

Shadow work refers to the process of confronting and understanding the darker, often suppressed facets of oneself. The interplay between psychic abilities and shadow work is intricate.

Unearthing Hidden Fears: Psychic experiences can bring to the surface latent fears or insecurities. These revelations, while challenging, are essential for personal growth. By addressing these fears, individuals can move towards holistic wellbeing.

Confronting Denial: Denial is a defense mechanism, shielding individuals from painful truths. However, psychic insights can pierce this veil, forcing a confrontation with realities one might prefer to ignore. This confrontation, though initially unsettling, is a step towards authenticity and selfacceptance.

Integration for Wholeness: The culmination of shadow work, when combined with psychic exploration, is the integration of all aspects of oneself. Recognizing and accepting both light and dark facets lead to a more balanced and whole self.

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[dogtoling]

Biology of Inkfish - Senses

Most Neocephalopods have a well-developed sense of vision, which is also their primary sense for navigating their environment. The pupil shapes and even the type of eyes may vary from species to species, with some cephalings having relatively poor eyesight, and others being adapted to spot and track moving prey hundreds of meters away. In neonautiloids and cirrates, which tend to hunt slow-moving prey or scavenge on carrion, the eyes are generally less complicated and can only form high-resolution images at a close distance. In inkfish, pupils come in primarily three shapes; the star-shaped pupil of squid, the horizontal pupil of octopuses and the W-shaped pupil of cuttlefish, with some variety and exceptions. Pupils of inkfish can dilate and retract freely, offering different use cases. inkfish also have dark patterns around their eyes to absorb the sun’s glare for hunting during periods of light.

[Three types of inkfish eyes (squid, octopus, cuttlefish) and the eye of a nautilus showing variety in pupil and "mask" shapes. The nautilus eye is quite different to that of other neocephalopods.]

The color vision of some neocephalopods is quite advanced, especially in inkfish which can differentiate between even minute hue shifts. This color vision seems to have evolved as a response to territory marking and communication via color, the efficiency of bright deimatic displays, and due to the addition of fruit into their diets. On the contrary, the color vision of non-inkfish is typically less advanced, especially in neonautiloids and cirrates, which do not have color-based visual communication or incorporate fruit into their diets and are able to detect less than half of the tones that inkfish do.

The neocephalopod sense of smell is present, but quite weak in the greater scope of the animal kingdom. The facial siphon in some cephalings is located in the middle of their face; this is used mainly for breathing, but also provides a sense of smell. Cephalings also have chemoreceptors in their suckers, which allows them to pick up chemical traces from the air as well as things they come in contact with. Suckers, including the graspers at the ends of inkfish limbs, offer a sense of taste when coming into contact with things - this enables some cephalings to taste their food or locate potential hidden prey just by touching it, for example. Taste receptors located on the radula or in the buccal cavity provide a sense of taste, as well.

Neocephalopods have a developed sense of magnetoreception. This sense is strongest in inkfish, which commonly travel long distances and traverse via air. Inkfish use magnetoreception primarily to navigate their territory as well as align their Super Jumps correctly. Inkfish are capable of sensing the Earth’s magnetic field and determine their alignments based on this; they are also able to sense weaker local magnetic fields, such as those emitted from Spawn Points and Squid Beakons.

Neocephalopods have a quite well-developed sense of hearing despite it not being their primary way of either finding prey or protecting themselves against predators. Inkfish have a tympanum on each side of the head, located just behind the eye and by the base of the fin. The tympanum transmits sound to the inner ear of the inkfish, with the closed structure protecting the ears from ink or other liquids. Inkless cephalings often have exposed ear holes rather than a closed tympanum.

[A comparison of the inkfish tympanum in a squid inkling (left) as opposed to an exposed ear hole in an inkless cirrate (right). In cephalings, the position of the tentacles or fins usually helps to direct sound into the ears.]