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A word that becomes significantly harder to define as the summer goes on because Vil keeps discovering that you have become involved in all of his favorite memories.
w.c ~1.6k
Vil feels like he's collecting evidence against himself.
He noticed it sometime around the middle of May, though the process had clearly started much earlier.
Certain streets became yours through repetition alone. A ramen shop tucked between two office buildings became yours because you dragged him there three separate times and declared yourself emotionally attached to the owner.
A convenience store near the river became yours because the cashier had once mistaken the two of you for a married couple and you had spent the next week finding that significantly funnier than necessary.
Entire sections of the city seemed to acquire your fingerprints simply because you kept appearing in them, leaving stories behind that attached themselves to places and refused to leave afterward.
Then the problem spread.
A mural painted beneath an overpass became associated with the night you convinced him to walk nearly forty minutes out of the way to see it, only to spend the entire journey talking about raccoons.
A bookstore became associated with an argument about terrible romance novels that lasted so long the employees began shelving books around you. There was even a traffic light near his apartment that made him think of you because one evening you had become inexplicably invested in the fate of a duck attempting to cross the street.
Vil had never before discovered that another person could infiltrate geography.
Yet somehow you managed it.
The city looked different now, though the changes were difficult to explain. They lived in the strange invisible layer beneath ordinary life where memories attached themselves to locations and transformed them quietly over time.
Every route contained detours. Every neighborhood carried associations. Every familiar place seemed to contain some version of you waiting patiently inside it, tucked away inside old conversations and impulsive decisions. The entire phenomenon should have annoyed him considerably more than it did. Instead, he kept showing up.
Summer certainly didn't help matters. The season seemed determined to stretch every evening beyond its natural limits.
The air remained warm enough that nobody felt particularly obligated to go home, music drifted through open windows, restaurants spilled onto sidewalks, and people lingered in places they normally would have passed through without a second glance.
The entire city felt younger during those months, and somehow you felt younger with it. Not immature, but animated by a restless sort of energy that made ordinary plans difficult to maintain and impossible to predict.
Vil would receive a text asking whether he was busy.
The answer rarely mattered because twenty minutes later he would find himself somewhere unexpected.
One evening it was a rooftop. Another evening it was an outdoor movie screening where neither of you watched the film because the people sitting behind you kept providing dramatically more entertaining commentary. Once it was a night market three districts away that apparently contained a vendor selling fruit shaped like animals.
Moments like that accumulated quickly over the course of the summer, and an unreasonable number of them seemed to involve food in one form or another.
Vil eventually concluded that half of your personality revolved around acquiring snacks under increasingly questionable circumstances.
The theory gained considerable support one night when he arrived at a crowded street festival and found you standing beside a game stall holding three stuffed bears and a can of soda somebody had apparently given you for free.
"How long have you been here?"
You glanced up.
"Thirty minutes."
Vil looked at the bears, then the soda and then the bag of snacks hanging from your wrist.
"Explain."
"I won the first bear."
"And the others?"
"The second bear was lonely."
"That does not answer my question."
"The third bear belonged to a child."
Vil stared.
You stared back.
The festival lights reflected in your eyes. Music drifted across the crowd from somewhere farther down the street. The smell of grilled food hung in the air. Around you, people moved between stalls in shifting currents of color and noise.
"The child gave you his bear?"
"He respected my vision."
Vil laughed despite himself and the sound surprised both of you.
The evening continued in the same direction most evenings spent with you eventually took. One plan became three completely unrelated plans.
A conversation about festival food somehow transformed into an argument about whether raccoons possessed social hierarchies.
Somewhere along the way the two of you crossed half the city without either of you remembering making the decision to do so. Time behaved suspiciously around you. Hours disappeared with such efficiency that Vil occasionally wondered whether you were secretly stealing them.
By midnight the festival had begun thinning out.
By one in the morning the two of you were sitting on a stone wall overlooking the river, sharing a carton of strawberries purchased from a vendor packing up for the night.
The city shimmered across the water, reflections stretching and breaking apart whenever a boat passed through the river. Music drifted faintly from somewhere farther down the waterfront, blending with distant conversations and the occasional burst of laughter carried by the warm night air.
You handed him a strawberry in the middle of your story and Vil accepted it without interrupting you, the exchange occurring with such practiced ease that he only noticed it afterward.
At some point during the summer the two of you had developed an alarming amount of confidence in each other's habits. You already knew which foods he liked well enough to order for him.
He knew which desserts you claimed to enjoy despite abandoning them halfway through every single time.
You could identify the expression that appeared whenever he was about to start judging a stranger's outfit from fifty feet away. He could predict with near-perfect accuracy whether a conversation was about to become genuinely interesting or whether you were preparing to waste twenty minutes of his life with a theory involving raccoons, conspiracy, or both.
You tossed the leaves from another strawberry into the almost empty carton before leaning backward onto your hands and looking out across the water. The festival lights still glowed in the distance. Your bears sat beside you in a small plush council. One of them was wearing sunglasses that it previouslydid not possess.
Vil chose not to ask.
The answer would almost certainly make the situation worse.
"You know," you said eventually, "I think we've become annoying."
Vil turned.
"We?"
"Us."
You gestured vaguely between the two of you.
"We spend an unreasonable amount of time together."
"You called me yesterday."
"You answered immediately."
"You sent eleven messages."
"You replied to all of them."
A grin slowly appeared on your face that Vil distrusted on principle because that look usually meant you had reached a conclusion.
"You like me."
Vil nearly choked on a strawberry.
Across the river, lights shimmered against the water. Music continued drifting through the warm summer night. Beside him, you looked entirely too pleased with yourself.
The worst part was that you were already laughing before he had managed to answer. The confidence suggested you had reached this conclusion weeks ago and had been carrying it around purely for entertainment purposes. Given your personality, that seemed entirely plausible.
"I don't know why you're so entertained by your own nonsense."
"You didn't deny it."
"I did."
"You absolutely didn't."
"I implied it."
You looked delighted.
Vil could feel the smile threatening at the corner of his own mouth and immediately fought it on principle. The effort lasted approximately three seconds.
"There it is."
"There what is?"
"The face."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"The one you make when you're losing."
Vil turned toward the river.
Somewhere over the past few months you had developed the deeply irritating habit of seeing straight through him whenever it suited you.
The realization probably should have unsettled him more than it did. Instead, he found himself looking forward to those moments, storing them away alongside your messages, your stories, and the endless stream of ridiculous observations you scattered throughout his days without apparent effort.
Beside him, you nudged his shoulder with yours.
"You're thinking too hard again."
Vil glanced over and saw you smile.
The same smile that had followed him through half the summer. The same smile currently waiting for him to admit something. The same smile he had spent months pretending wasn't becoming one of his favorite sights in the world.
For once, the effort felt unnecessary.
The festival lights painted shifting colors across the river. Music drifted through the warm night air. Somewhere farther down the waterfront, a group of strangers cheered loudly at something neither of you could see.
The city felt alive. It was the sort of night that seemed determined to continue forever.
Before you could say another word, Vil reached over, caught the front of your shirt between his fingers, and pulled you toward him.
The kiss lasted only a few secondsโjust long enough to steal the next sentence directly from your mouth. When he finally leaned back, your expression had gone completely blank. The silence that followed was perhaps the most satisfying silence Vil had experienced all year.
For the first time since meeting you, you seemed genuinely speechless
Then he reached into the carton, stole the last strawberry, and ate it before you recovered enough to stop him.
Your outrage arrived immediately afterward.
The summer carried on around you, bright and loud and full of music, while Vil laughed hard enough that he nearly dropped the strawberry halfway through escaping your attempted revenge.
And he found that he didn't mind that you're in every fond memory of his, because he wants you to be in every fond memory after this.
A word that becomes significantly harder to define as the summer goes on because Vil keeps discovering that you have become involved in all of his favorite memories.
w.c ~1.6k
Vil feels like he's collecting evidence against himself.
He noticed it sometime around the middle of May, though the process had clearly started much earlier.
Certain streets became yours through repetition alone. A ramen shop tucked between two office buildings became yours because you dragged him there three separate times and declared yourself emotionally attached to the owner.
A convenience store near the river became yours because the cashier had once mistaken the two of you for a married couple and you had spent the next week finding that significantly funnier than necessary.
Entire sections of the city seemed to acquire your fingerprints simply because you kept appearing in them, leaving stories behind that attached themselves to places and refused to leave afterward.
Then the problem spread.
A mural painted beneath an overpass became associated with the night you convinced him to walk nearly forty minutes out of the way to see it, only to spend the entire journey talking about raccoons.
A bookstore became associated with an argument about terrible romance novels that lasted so long the employees began shelving books around you. There was even a traffic light near his apartment that made him think of you because one evening you had become inexplicably invested in the fate of a duck attempting to cross the street.
Vil had never before discovered that another person could infiltrate geography.
Yet somehow you managed it.
The city looked different now, though the changes were difficult to explain. They lived in the strange invisible layer beneath ordinary life where memories attached themselves to locations and transformed them quietly over time.
Every route contained detours. Every neighborhood carried associations. Every familiar place seemed to contain some version of you waiting patiently inside it, tucked away inside old conversations and impulsive decisions. The entire phenomenon should have annoyed him considerably more than it did. Instead, he kept showing up.
Summer certainly didn't help matters. The season seemed determined to stretch every evening beyond its natural limits.
The air remained warm enough that nobody felt particularly obligated to go home, music drifted through open windows, restaurants spilled onto sidewalks, and people lingered in places they normally would have passed through without a second glance.
The entire city felt younger during those months, and somehow you felt younger with it. Not immature, but animated by a restless sort of energy that made ordinary plans difficult to maintain and impossible to predict.
Vil would receive a text asking whether he was busy.
The answer rarely mattered because twenty minutes later he would find himself somewhere unexpected.
One evening it was a rooftop. Another evening it was an outdoor movie screening where neither of you watched the film because the people sitting behind you kept providing dramatically more entertaining commentary. Once it was a night market three districts away that apparently contained a vendor selling fruit shaped like animals.
Moments like that accumulated quickly over the course of the summer, and an unreasonable number of them seemed to involve food in one form or another.
Vil eventually concluded that half of your personality revolved around acquiring snacks under increasingly questionable circumstances.
The theory gained considerable support one night when he arrived at a crowded street festival and found you standing beside a game stall holding three stuffed bears and a can of soda somebody had apparently given you for free.
"How long have you been here?"
You glanced up.
"Thirty minutes."
Vil looked at the bears, then the soda and then the bag of snacks hanging from your wrist.
"Explain."
"I won the first bear."
"And the others?"
"The second bear was lonely."
"That does not answer my question."
"The third bear belonged to a child."
Vil stared.
You stared back.
The festival lights reflected in your eyes. Music drifted across the crowd from somewhere farther down the street. The smell of grilled food hung in the air. Around you, people moved between stalls in shifting currents of color and noise.
"The child gave you his bear?"
"He respected my vision."
Vil laughed despite himself and the sound surprised both of you.
The evening continued in the same direction most evenings spent with you eventually took. One plan became three completely unrelated plans.
A conversation about festival food somehow transformed into an argument about whether raccoons possessed social hierarchies.
Somewhere along the way the two of you crossed half the city without either of you remembering making the decision to do so. Time behaved suspiciously around you. Hours disappeared with such efficiency that Vil occasionally wondered whether you were secretly stealing them.
By midnight the festival had begun thinning out.
By one in the morning the two of you were sitting on a stone wall overlooking the river, sharing a carton of strawberries purchased from a vendor packing up for the night.
The city shimmered across the water, reflections stretching and breaking apart whenever a boat passed through the river. Music drifted faintly from somewhere farther down the waterfront, blending with distant conversations and the occasional burst of laughter carried by the warm night air.
You handed him a strawberry in the middle of your story and Vil accepted it without interrupting you, the exchange occurring with such practiced ease that he only noticed it afterward.
At some point during the summer the two of you had developed an alarming amount of confidence in each other's habits. You already knew which foods he liked well enough to order for him.
He knew which desserts you claimed to enjoy despite abandoning them halfway through every single time.
You could identify the expression that appeared whenever he was about to start judging a stranger's outfit from fifty feet away. He could predict with near-perfect accuracy whether a conversation was about to become genuinely interesting or whether you were preparing to waste twenty minutes of his life with a theory involving raccoons, conspiracy, or both.
You tossed the leaves from another strawberry into the almost empty carton before leaning backward onto your hands and looking out across the water. The festival lights still glowed in the distance. Your bears sat beside you in a small plush council. One of them was wearing sunglasses that it previouslydid not possess.
Vil chose not to ask.
The answer would almost certainly make the situation worse.
"You know," you said eventually, "I think we've become annoying."
Vil turned.
"We?"
"Us."
You gestured vaguely between the two of you.
"We spend an unreasonable amount of time together."
"You called me yesterday."
"You answered immediately."
"You sent eleven messages."
"You replied to all of them."
A grin slowly appeared on your face that Vil distrusted on principle because that look usually meant you had reached a conclusion.
"You like me."
Vil nearly choked on a strawberry.
Across the river, lights shimmered against the water. Music continued drifting through the warm summer night. Beside him, you looked entirely too pleased with yourself.
The worst part was that you were already laughing before he had managed to answer. The confidence suggested you had reached this conclusion weeks ago and had been carrying it around purely for entertainment purposes. Given your personality, that seemed entirely plausible.
"I don't know why you're so entertained by your own nonsense."
"You didn't deny it."
"I did."
"You absolutely didn't."
"I implied it."
You looked delighted.
Vil could feel the smile threatening at the corner of his own mouth and immediately fought it on principle. The effort lasted approximately three seconds.
"There it is."
"There what is?"
"The face."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"The one you make when you're losing."
Vil turned toward the river.
Somewhere over the past few months you had developed the deeply irritating habit of seeing straight through him whenever it suited you.
The realization probably should have unsettled him more than it did. Instead, he found himself looking forward to those moments, storing them away alongside your messages, your stories, and the endless stream of ridiculous observations you scattered throughout his days without apparent effort.
Beside him, you nudged his shoulder with yours.
"You're thinking too hard again."
Vil glanced over and saw you smile.
The same smile that had followed him through half the summer. The same smile currently waiting for him to admit something. The same smile he had spent months pretending wasn't becoming one of his favorite sights in the world.
For once, the effort felt unnecessary.
The festival lights painted shifting colors across the river. Music drifted through the warm night air. Somewhere farther down the waterfront, a group of strangers cheered loudly at something neither of you could see.
The city felt alive. It was the sort of night that seemed determined to continue forever.
Before you could say another word, Vil reached over, caught the front of your shirt between his fingers, and pulled you toward him.
The kiss lasted only a few secondsโjust long enough to steal the next sentence directly from your mouth. When he finally leaned back, your expression had gone completely blank. The silence that followed was perhaps the most satisfying silence Vil had experienced all year.
For the first time since meeting you, you seemed genuinely speechless
Then he reached into the carton, stole the last strawberry, and ate it before you recovered enough to stop him.
Your outrage arrived immediately afterward.
The summer carried on around you, bright and loud and full of music, while Vil laughed hard enough that he nearly dropped the strawberry halfway through escaping your attempted revenge.
And he found that he didn't mind that you're in every fond memory of his, because he wants you to be in every fond memory after this.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Qualityโ Free Actions
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
Anonyme a envoyรฉ
Sometimes i think about Vil acknowledging Leona's beauty... Like Vil being someone who's used to hearing compliments for his looks and it's easy to write Leona telling him the same but also Vil's the one giving him "ugh your handsome face" comments, it just hits different to see Vil calling Leona beautiful and admiring his figure. Hope this makes sense ๐
That does make sense! Aside from Kifaji, Leona didn't get a lot of compliments during his childhood and the few he got, sounded like wanting something in return because of his status. So, genuine compliments should make him blush before he'd deflect it by a snarky comment.
Anonyme a envoyรฉ
If it gets out that Leona is secretly Vegas married to Vil, its over for him cause they're gonna figure out that his ultimate weakness is being called "Schoenheit San/Senpai/Whatever else" cause he just freezes from the joy at being reminded be bagged a queen baddie
Hahahaha! I love that. It would give so much power to Ruggie ๐
Anonyme a envoyรฉ
I'm so glad I have time to save for Leona's ob card cause I really shouldn't tap into my bank account for the cat man also for some reason and maybe I'm just dumb but I feel if vill was playing the game would either get super lucky and get all of Leona's cards on the first try or spend a shit ton of money to fully cap his overblot card
This card is going to come to early for my sake I know it. At least, it won't come for Julyโฆ
I like to think Vil would spend all his money to have all his cards with that stupid gorgeous face because the cat would never be nice to him so he can outrageously rant about him but still spend all his jewels. Don't judge, everyone has weaknesses.
Anonyme a envoyรฉ
Random ask, if Vil & Leona were asked, who in NRC students would they want as brother, who would that be? Why?
Surely, Vil would pick Ortho. It's almost the case with the Research Film Club after all lol
As for Leona, he would argue that he'd rather be only child but if he had to choose an annoying little brother (aside Cheeka) he'd pick Deuce. For the gullible side probably.
Anonyme a envoyรฉ
whatโs your opinion on the fact that Jack and Vil are technically childhood friends? Do you think Leona would ever go up to him and be like โso, what does he like? The below the surface stuffโ?
Well, I'm a bit sad that there is not enough "childhood friends" interactions between them, let's hope for a hometown event for Jack so we could learn how Vil and him snowboarded together.
Picturing Leona begrudgingly asking hints to Jack is delicious but I don't think he would be a great help lol Better ask Rook. But only in case of emergency.
Got hit by a new AU some time ago, so here it is! Exobiologist!Vil meets Alienbeing!Leona เฒ โ โกโ เฒ Brain said "make that lion a lionfish snake". So be it. Still need a title for this AU but already have a chunk of lore! Can't wait to doodle more about this one on my free time~
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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๐ณ๏ธโ๐ I, PRIDE Fundraiser Project Announcement!
QUICK LINKS โ our event strawpage!
FULL INFORMATION UNDER CUT โ
๐ I, PRIDE โ Pride Month Fundraiser
Pride Month has begun, and we're launching I, PRIDE, a fundraiser supporting LGBTQ+ youth in need.
๐ Fundraiser runs from now until June 30
Why We're Fundraising
This fundraiser supports DDing Dong LGBTQ Youth Support Center, a South Korea-based organization that protects and empowers LGBTQ+ teens facing crisis situations. It provides immediate and long-term support for queer youth experiencing homelessness, family rejection, discrimination, or mental health crises, helping them regain safety, stability, and self-esteem.
Its mission is to create a safe environment where LGBTQ+ youth can survive crisis situations and gradually move toward independent living with dignity and support.
Learn more here: https://ddingdong.kr/ENG
What DDing Dong Does
๐ณ๏ธโ๐ Crisis support, counseling, and emergency aid for LGBTQ+ youth, including outreach, medical and legal assistance, and trauma support
๐ Safe spaces offering showers, laundry facilities, meals, rest areas, and access to computers and sleeping accommodations
๐ค Community programs such as shared meals, camps, cultural activities, and human rights education led with LGBTQ+ youth participation
๐ข Advocacy, research, and awareness work including education for schools, families, and youth organizations, plus Safe Zone campaigns
๐ Long-term housing development through the PRIDE HOME project, aiming to establish a 24-hour safe house and stable support system for LGBTQ+ youth in crisis
How to Donate
Ko-fi (PayPal & Stripe):
https://ko-fi.com/xlovglobal
PayPal:
https://www.paypal.me/XLOVGLOBAL
Wise:
https://wise.com/pay/me/giannab90
Transparency
All donations and transfers will be publicly documented:
Rookvil x lavenderz in honor of incoming pride month and the I,God album
It was such a joy to make this. I love Rookvil and I love XLOV. I'm so happy their comeback was so openly and undeniably queer, I'm so happy for them in a way words can't express. When I saw Hyun dipping Rui I instantly thought of these two and I had to bring it to life.
u can be boiling alive in your mind for months and then on a random tuesday ur head gets so clear and life is worth living again and you're like damn what was all that about then
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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We know Silver is the type to copy others when it comes to fashion type stuff since he doesnโt understand the appeal of it, this was definitely on purpose right?? ๐ฅบ
