MTL - Yan Yan - Chapter 22 hostel

There was a special patient in Spruce Hospital. A person in vegetative state and coma that the tree doctor, So Lee-yeon, has been hiding for two years…‘Don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up.’It was her dream to live quietly so she prayed every night. Then one day, by pure miracle or failure, the person in vegetative state woke up!“Did you come to suck this poor bastard’s dick?”In front of the man that lost his memory and common sense, she told a lie that couldn’t be turned as she was afraid of his mu*derous instinct.“I’m your w-wife, Kwon Chae-woo.”To the man who buried someone alive and tried to kill her two years ago!

[2022 Science Fiction Starlight Award Word-of-mouth Good Book]

[Third Prize of 2022 Science Fiction Essay]

When a photo of the North Pole taken by a satellite was sent back to various countries, people on earth were shocked by the content of the photo.

They saw thousands of wolves in the North Pole, including hundreds of polar bears and arctic silver foxes, all bowing their heads in unison.

On the top of the snow-capped mountain, a giant arctic wolf whose size exceeds everyone’s imagination is overlooking the arctic ice sheet.

- Description from novelbuddy

Li Wanqiu didn’t like Ji Jinyan’s restrained, sexual and serious appearance, and set a flag when meeting her for the first time: “I’m not interested in people older than myself.”

I thought she would be furious, but Ji Jinyan not only didn’t feel displeased at all, but just smiled lightly, as if he was looking at a three-year-old child, as if he didn’t take her seriously at all.

Li Wanqiu was unhappy, recognized that she was not the same as him, subconsciously wanted to stay away, but was always inexplicably involved with her, guided when she lost her way, hugged by her when drunk, even if she was on a business trip, she lived alone next door.

At a banquet, Li Wanqiu got drunk again, dazedly hooked Ji Jinyan’s collar and started provoking, but didn’t want to be taught by Ji Jinyan’s hands clasped instead, with deep eyes.

Every word, Li Wanqiu blushed immediately when she said it, she was stunned for a while before she realized, and asked her with tears in her eyes: “What did you say, you are called Jinyan…”

Before she finished speaking, she was kissed on the lips by the person in front of her. Seeing her raise her eyebrows and chuckle, she opened her lips and said slowly: “That’s right, I sincerely say that I do abide by it on weekdays.”
“But being cautious has nothing to do with me.”

Later, Li Wanqiu finally mustered up the courage to pass a small note to ask her, “Do you hate me?”

That night, she received a bouquet of blooming daisies, and there was a piece of paper hidden among the flowers. When she opened it, the word Hate was crossed out secretly and replaced with a sincere confession.

–“no.”

“It’s too late to like you.”

Age difference, Gong and Shou are 7 years old, black-bellied and introverted boss Gong x Fried-haired Tsundere Miss

[Seeing you, I lost my soul, and I will give you all the thousands of stars and the tenderness in my heart. 】

Content tags: Huanxi Enemy Face Slap Inspirational Life Sweet Articles
Search keywords: Protagonist: Li Wanqiu, Ji Jinyan ┃ Supporting role: Next door “The Cannon Fodder Female Supporting Played Off After Seeing Through the Plot” Please accept it in advance, thank you everyone! ┃ Other:
One-sentence introduction: I have fallen
Conception: expressing love can transcend everything, make two people make progress together, and become a better person who contributes to society and has a sense of responsibility

- Description from novelbuddy

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.