OK, I may regret this later but I think for my main save re-do, I want to do it CC-free and then share it (bit by bit and also as save files, which will accumulate as I go). It’ll be similar to my Blythe Harbor in style, but more cohesive. And it’ll eventually include all worlds except for Oasis Springs, which I will keep separate but still work on. This is very early on so I don’t have details yet, but I do have the names! It’s all very New England-inspired because I’m still into that. ;) Also, I really like alliteration, what can I say.
Willow Creek = CAPE CALHOUN
Newcrest = VERNON VALLEY
Windenburg = GNOMESBURG
Magnolia Promenade = ROWLAND’S WHARF
Forgotten Hollow = FAIRBRIDGE FALLS
San Myshuno = BAYPORT CITY
Oasis Springs = KINGSWOOD (separate from the rest)
I might start with Fairbridge Falls since I already have some ideas for it, and it’s only five lots. More details to come.
Vernon/OFC: Jealousy is pretty ugly, but you’re just pretty
Genre: university!AU, fluff/romance/humor
Word Count: 4206
Characters: Hansol Vernon Chwe/Original Female, Joshua, Jeonghan
@svthansols: bff!Vernon, “I swear I didn’t see anything!”/“I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”/“What if I kissed you right now?”
She sipped furiously at her iced green tea, the sharp tang of lemon assaulting her tongue, but she paid no mind.
“Are you back on Earth yet, or,” Joshua trailed off lightly, twirling idly at the plastic straw of his thai milk tea.
“Depends, has Earth finally created a pathway to heaven?” she exhaled, nibbling at the edge of her straw. “Because that girl is practically a Goddess.”
In the middle of the student center entrance, stood Vernon and yet another girl. Not that she was counting (two in the past week) but this new one was so frustratingly good looking, coupled by the fact that he was so frustratingly good looking as well. Together they were incredibly beautiful. She had meticulously dyed ash blonde hair, with her roots freshly treated and her style had that lowkey “City Swag” vibe Vernon was crazy about. In other words, the perfect girl.
Hey guys, after a lot of thinking, I’ve made some changes to my Cape Calhoun Project (which is my re-do of all the worlds for my main gameplay save). I had a bunch of explanation typed up but it was long and boring and you’d probably just want me to GET TO THE POINT. :)
So here’s THE POINT (well, several points) (warning: may still be long and boring):
1. I was going to have everything except for Oasis Springs/Kingswood be in the same save, but I’ve decided to separate them again. (See my original post for what name corresponds to what world.) It’ll be like this:
Main Save: Cape Calhoun, Vernon Valley, Rowland’s Wharf, Windy Island (the island part of Windenburg)
Separate Saves: Kingswood, Bayport City, Gnomesburg, Fairbridge Falls (I *might* add this to my main save - not sure yet)
2. I’m going to add some CC back to my main save. The separate saves will remain CC-free for the time being.
3. Since my main save is my gameplay save, it’s mostly for myself, which means I need to be able to move things around, be experimental, completely ditch certain ideas, etc. In other words, I need freedom to work on it when I’m inspired to, otherwise it ceases to be fun. That doesn’t mean I won’t share any of the lots, however! They’ll just be on a “by request” basis, and I might remove CC before sharing, or upload shells. The exception is Windy Island - I’m nearly done with that one and will probably share the lots (all CC-free) in the next couple of weeks.
4. Gnomesburg is going to be a college town, at least in my preliminary plans. (I’ve been wanting to turn it into a college town ever since I made Young Mort!) That could change completely. :) But I anticipate sharing that one eventually if people are interested and the lots work out the way I want them to!
5. Bayport City will probably be the last one I do, unless I get really inspired to work on it. I apologize to those of you who have been asking me for some San Myshuno lots! :-/ I’m sure I’ll get to it eventually but the other worlds are just more interesting to me right now.
6. I do have plans to upload the following lots (since they were requested) once I get them all finished and playtested:
So, i just wanna go on a little rant about how good Canadians are, okay? Okay. This is a good rant, not a bad one.
So, currently, a huge majority of the province of BC is in a state of emergency. There are currently 162 wildfires burning in BC. I and my family have been evacuated from the city of William’s Lake. My hometown, 100 Mile, has been completely evacuated, we are currently staying with my grandparents who are way out on the far outskirts of 100 Mile and are only on evac alert.
Now to my rant:
There are so many amazing people doing so many things for the evacuees. Literally my mother, her fiancé and I went to Lone Butte to the community hall where people from Fort McMurray, AB had donated food and clothes for people in need of it.
SOME GAS STATIONS STAYED OPEN AND GAVE AWAY GAS FOR FREE FOR EVACUEES FLEEING THEIR HOMES AND GOING SOUTH TO KAMLOOPS OR THE LOWER MAINLAND
I kid you not, on our way back to my grandparents, a man was on the side of the road with tons of jerry cans full of fuel, offering to fill people’s cars for free.
Literally, everyone is being so supportive of all the evacuees. So many people are being so kind and helping out as much as they can.
My own grandfather went to help with extinguishing the Gustuffson fire
PEOPLE ARE OPENING THEIR FARMS AND THEIR OWN HOMES JUST FOR PEOPLE TO STAY FOR A WHILE, LETTING THEM BRING THEIR HORSES, COWS, PIGS, BUNNIES, CHICKENS, ETC AND ARE PROVIDING THEM FOOD AND STUFF
Canadians are so good to people…!
No, not all Canadians are like this. But literally, everyone is helping each other out in this state of emergency and they’re being so kind… It’s moments like these that, despite being stressed and full of anxiety, I’m proud to be a Canadian.
We’re welcoming a NEW PERSON on board today! Everybody say hi to @VernonShaw, who’s gonna help us make weird stuff! And if you’re wondering where you’ve seen Vernon before, he’s the guy who runs @HotPepperGaming! [x/x]
Summary: Time travel is not for the faint of heart.
Author’s note: ½ of a Two part series-should be done soon I hope. I supposed since The Painters Muse finally made it to 400 notes (Which is crazyyyyy) I would write a little something. Thanks for all the sweet messages, I read them over and over again almost everyday. I love you cuties.
For as long as you could remember you loved Chwe Vernon.
You felt it whenever you looked at him; his soft eyes and gentle smile curating a euphoric feeling within you. He laughs when he catches you staring at him from across the library; the kind that’s breathy and quiet but leaves the same, dizzying effect on you.
He props his head onto the palm of his hand, his pencil still twirling between his fingers. His lips curve up into a subtle smile, his eyes telling you more than anything. You pout when you remember that you can’t move, there’s a reason you moved away from in the first place. Yet, Vernon doesn’t seem to care too much for the massive finals you both need study for when he motions for you to come sit with him again. The side of his body that usually is occupied with your own is feeling painfully vacant and he wants you to clear up the issue.
You sigh, shake your head and return to your textbook, pencil twirling the same way his does. Neither of you know who you got it from. Vernon lets out a loud cough, one that jerks everyone’s head in your direction. Disdain covers most of their faces, for they’re all trying to do the same thing you are and once again Vernon is getting in their way. He sends an apologetic expression to a quadrant of the library, burying his face in the pages of his own book to hide his embarrassment.
An hour passes at two different paces for the both of you. You finish your session of cramming and Vernon finishes his own session of pretending to read a book to look busy. You gather your things, and exit the building fully aware of the heavy steps that follow after you immediately. The doors out of the building feel a lot farther than usual, and when you finally make it out Vernon’s instant presence feels like even more of a relief.
He pushes himself against you, your body instinctively turning around to meet him. His lips fall hurriedly onto yours, impatience leaving a sweet taste on your mouth. Vernon always kisses you with purpose, and you can never find yourself doing anything else. You separate, both smiling gleefully at each other.
“How was abandoning your boyfriend to study?”
“How was being hopeless without a girlfriend?” Vernon feigns offense, hand rushing dramatically to his chest as he gasps. It’s fast however, soon dropping the act and grabbing your hand instead. He pulls you forward, following into his stride as you walk further.
“I was studying though.” Vernon retorts, his voice sounding like an incoherent murmur to anyone but you. You know him better than anyone in ever could. The two of you have been best friends since the day you met, this is something you were sure of when you greeted him with a smile on the first day of 6th grade. The idea of your child coming home with a newly proclaimed best friend usually isn’t an event to think much of, but when your parents catch the rosy glint in your eyes when you utter his name, they know that it’s different.
Growing up with your complete and utter faith in someone is far different than the lack of. Sixth grade to you meant hanging out either of your homes-you had the keys to both- energy rushing through your veins and exploding into burst of colors. Ninth grade meant venturing out into the city, Vernon trying to carefully track exactly where the two of you were walking to as well as keep a firm grip on your hand to make sure you didn’t disappear. Eleventh grade meant trying to figure out the exact nature of your relationship with Vernon because a casual kiss during a game of truth and dare should not feel that intoxicating.
He was never meant to just be your friend; this is something everyone knew, especially Vernon of all people.
So when Vernon appeared at your door in the hazy early hours of day, it was almost too obvious that he knew you were going to bury your head into his chest whispering a string of I love you’s. You forgot that you even noticed because when you finally kissed him again, it feels as if this was where you were supposed to be.
“I have to go.” Vernon retracts his hand from yours, interrupting your train of thought. His tone sounds nervous and all the more unwilling when he usually does this. You send him a disappointed look, fully aware of the situation.
Vernon always had somewhere to go, yet you never really know where it was exactly. It wasn’t that you want to know where he was constantly; it never pleased you to keep a radar on him. But when he disappears on the day of your graduation, or during diner with your parents, you can’t help but feel uneasy about the situation.
You don’t know why you don’t stop him, or ask why. Instead, you nod carefully, receiving a kiss on your forehead reluctantly before you watch him run off around the corner.
When he’s out of your sights, Vernon presses his back against the wall with a huff. He feels the prick of needles begin at his feet until the surge of discomfort washes over his body. He always likes to watch himself fade, the matter of his body dissolving into a waves of time and energy.
The particles that create his eleven year old self collect in a home: his childhood home. The sensation of desolation is overwhelming despite the bodies that fill the room with chatter. It’s his mother cooking in the kitchen; her youthful smile restores her appearance. Vernon smiles, he has forgotten what his mother looked like when she was alive.
He almost reaches a hand out to touch her, to brush his fingers against her cheek, but he knows better than to interfere with the past. He believes it’s all he’s meant to do. That the one who regulates his travels simply wants him to witness something once more, or give him knowledge of what’s to come.
“That y/n is a sweet girl, you seem to like her a lot.
Vernon feels himself nod, a hum in agreement sneaking past his lips. His mother turns from her work to look at her son, “you knew her already, didn’t you?” Her tone is not reprimanding, rather already aware of her son’s gift.
There is few times when Vernon drifts to the future. Three times exactly. Each time he is greeted by the dazzling aura that could only belong to you.He has met you, confess to you, and loved you before you could ever witness it yourself. He already thinks he knows why it’s only instances that include you; the world wants him to be with you as much as he does.
His mother asks what age he appeared in and when Vernon answers with a puff in his chest and a triumphant swing in his voice as he says, “Eighteen” his mother smiles.
“That’s my boy.”
Vernon returns to his apartment, your trail evident the moment he opens the door. Your glass of water sits on the counter, the condensation leaving a circle of liquid on the surface. The habit of yours makes Vernon cringe. Your shoes sit neatly next to the door. Dinosaur printed socks are tucked within the shoes, the ones Vernon picked out against the sloths that you claimed “got to be the cutest things on the damn planet.”
He walks down the hallway; the door to the bedroom cracks open just enough to see the yellow toned light that illuminates the space. He pushes it open to see your things scattered across the floor. Notes line the bottom edge of the bed and you lay on your stomach trying to figure out the best way to write on the floor. You look up, eyes big yet oh so tired.
You force a smile, though you don’t really have the energy or motivation to do so. Vernon takes a seat next to you, hand instinctively reaching to trail your back. You sit up to face him, and push your body weight onto your knees.
“How was work?” He asks, and you shrug.
“It was fine, pretty chill day. I just didn’t have a ride home.” You watch his expression shift, his calm appearance becoming struck with panic.
“Oh shit.” Is all he says and you roll your eyes. Your hands push yourself onto your feet, bending over to pick your papers off of the floor, “I’m so sorry, I lost track of time, and –“
Your question stops Vernon in his tracks. The papers sit between your arms in a frantic mess, only making Vernon more nervous. You raise an eyebrow, expecting a complete answer.
If it was any other day, you may have shrugged it off and made peace. But tonight was the night you had promised your professor you would turn in the papers he agreed to put an extension on and being an hour late getting home was not aiding your patience. It has also been the third night Vernon has dropped out of his previous engagements, something even he doesn’t expect. His journey never take more than half an hour at most, but lately he thinks that time wants to show him more.
Needless to say, you’re not too inclined to be as understanding.
“I don’t know, you seem to lose track of time a lot lately. I just want to know what exactly is making you lose the consideration to shoot your girlfriend a quick text so that she doesn’t wait an hour for you.” Your tone is scathing, and you shoot a merciless glare at the boy across from you. He stands slowly, eyes leveling with yours for a split second before he’s looking down on you. Your eyes show little anger, rather desperately in need of an answer.
“I was helping a friend with his classes. He’s been having trouble with keeping up with his course load so I wanted to give him a hand.” Vernon is surprised at how easily the lie slips through his teeth and off his tongue yet it still hurts to know what he’s doing. He wants to tell you the truth, he wants you to know every thing about him, but he’s scared that the one who’s behind it all doesn’t want you to know. Even he doesn’t understand the powers of time that he holds.
However, Vernon knows what time can do, he knows it is brutal and merciless and he decides he isn’t willing to risk it.
You stare at him for a moment longer, your eyes prodding him for another answer. Your hands clench around the edge of your paper in dissatisfaction. You bite your lip as you take a long breath through your nose.
“That’s the answer you’re going with?”
“It’s the truth.”
You shake your head, knowing too much for you own good. Vernon takes a step closer to you, hands brushing down the back of your arm and trailing back up to your nape. His feather light touch calms you down enough for you to drop the subject and when he pulls you into a kiss, you can’t see yourself holding your rage over him anymore.
He separates, hands still holding the back of your neck and thumbs tracing over your jawline. You feel his lips ghost over yours as he speaks, his breath warm and soft against your face.
“I’m sorry, I’m a douche for letting you wait for me without a text. I will dedicate my time to your day off tomorrow, I promise.” You close your eyes and nod, sending a flow of relief to course through your boyfriend’s face. He leans in again but your voice stops him from reaching any farther.
“Let’s start now, you can help me with my papers that are due in an hour.”
He smiles, arms dropping in defeat, “As you wish.”
A day with your significant other is supposed to be far more relaxing than it is for Vernon. He curses himself the moment he makes his promise to you, but when he watch your face light up with glee, he can’t find himself to regret it.
That is, until he thinks of what your face would look like once he fucks up.
But Vernon waits, and hopes for the best. Instead he observes how the sun kisses your face in the most exquisite way he could possibly imagine. He focuses himself on the soothing sound of your voice, a sweet concoction of honey and sugar that he cannot bear to miss a single moment. Your hands push against the ground behind you, arms straightened to hold you up. Vernon head rests in your lap, his hands fold neatly over his stomach to hide his nervous twitch.
“So, Soonyoung is having a party tonight, and your unsociable butt is coming with me.” You don’t look when you speak, simply letting your gaze fall on random clouds, trying to assign meaning to their shapes.
Vernon groans in response, “Why can’t you be a normal person and spend your free day with your boyfriend making out with him or something.”
“We can do that, at the party.”
“I meant at home.”
When you look down at him you shake your head, a sly smile creeping on your face. You’re well aware of Vernon’s distaste for parties but you’re still angry with him for last night and revenge just sounds too good.
Vernon agrees reluctantly, sitting himself up beside you. You lay your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your body with ease. You place a light kiss on his jaw and he smiles with content. This could have been the most perfect moment for the two of you. It could have been one of the moments you would go back on and remember how dearly you love each other. It could have been exactly in Vernon’s favor.
But time is a bitch, and Vernon is the firsthand witness to it.
He feels it in his toes again, the wave of needles commence in a surge far more painful than he has ever experienced. Yet it is not painful physically, what pains him gnaws his insides at the mere thought of what he has to do. He looks at your peaceful figure, eyes flutter closed and your lips tighten into a smile. You must have felt him tense up because you’re soon raising your head from his shoulder, the same look on your face from last night.
“What?” Your intuition almost makes Vernon jump, his anxiety completely evident to you.
“You have that look on your face again. I know that look Vernon, you’re going to tell me you have to leave.”
“I’m sorry.” You sigh and begin to collect your things. A part of you wants to react. It wants to yell and curse Vernon for doing this to you again but another piece feels like he has a reason. You don’t bother to send him a word of confirmation but Vernon forces himself to run the other way. He apologizes a few more times as he runs, his regret eating him up inside. He finds himself in between two trees, cast away from the crowds of people that filter through the park. Conveniently his choice gives him a perfect view of you right before he fades.
He watches you wipe tears from your face with your sleeves, your presence a frantic mess of emotions. His heart hurts at the scene, but he still cannot tear his attention of the undeniable fact that his current situation is a lot more excruciating than it should be. He feels the hands of time rip his body apart, not knowing if he’s going to see the other side of this drift.
But when he recomposes in a new time, he wishes he didn’t see what he’s seeing. He’s standing in front of a car, his rav4, the windows cracked in a myriad of pieces. The car sits on its side, another smashed in the front to the point of no survival; smoke rises from their crevices. Sirens sound close behind him and the dizzying gleam of lights are enough to blind him.
The night air nips at his skin and Vernon listens as a voice ask for him to step back. The stars shine dimly beneath a sheet of grey clouds, the purple tint of night leaving a somber mood.
People move frantically back and forth between the two wrecked cars before him. He takes a step forward, the glass shards giving out beneath his shoes. The sound of his heartbeat pounds against his ears, creating a deafening buzz within his skull. He peers inside his car, a sickening feeling ravaging his insides.
The sight of your body tears every part of him into shreds, but what seems to baffle him the most is the fact that you do not look the slightest bit older. Your body is strewn across the front seat of the car, streams of crimson flowing from your head, but your face still glows with same youth as when he last saw you. You wear the same t-shirt that he has seen a few moments ago, when he sat with you in the park exactly how he left you when he left you. He is almost thankful for the hands of time that rip him away almost immediately, for it is all he needed to see.
When Vernon returns to present day, the weight of what he has seen leaves him a gasping mess of panic. The night sky illuminates his face, the park empty and void of any patrons, he didn’t know that time passed so quickly while he was away. Vernon searches the seen, disoriented at the very least. His hands shake when he picks up his phone and the dull LED light that illuminates his screen feels blinding. He brings his hand to wipe his face, sweat and tears mixing into a mix of sheer despair.
He calls you first, though he thinks he knows where you are already. One ring, two rings, three-
“Hello?” Your voice sends a wave of relief through Vernon, but the way you giggle and slur your words rips it away soon after. Music beats through the speaker and you move the phone to see who’s calling. You squint your eyes a few time to focus on the caller ID, frowning when you make up the name. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Y/n, listen to me, you can’t go anywhere. I’ll pick you up at Soonyoung’s party, don’t get in any car.” Vernon voice shakes, but you hardly notice through your haze of drunken anger.
“You already let me down once today, let me have fun. Stop being a buzz kill mister.”
Vernon wants to scream, he wants to shout at you until you understand what he’s saying. He walks to where his car is supposed to be parked but he isn’t surprised that it’s gone. You must have taken it earlier in the day.
In a fit of panic, Vernon begins running. His feet slam against the floor as he picks up speed and he almost forgets that you have already hung up before he can say another word. He wipes away more tears, his fears shooting adrenaline through his veins. He runs so fast, he almost forgets to breath and when he finally focuses himself on the steady puffs of air as they leave his body he remembers that he’s alive. But you won’t be soon, and this makes him run faster than ever.
Soonyoung’s house is closer than he remembers, or it may be the fact that Vernon has beaten the speed of light in his pursuit When he arrives the air moves through his lungs as if acid where running through his body. His chest feels as if it may burst open and his eyes search the crowd desperately. He pushes through the throngs of partygoers, finding no use in looking at their faces. He knows you like the back of his hand.
It is one single laugh that escapes your mouth that allows him to find you, and when he hears the same cheery tone, he runs to it immediately only to catch you swinging sloppily side-to-side in a futile attempt to dance; yet you stop almost instantly when you see him too. It’s as if, even in your drunken state, the string of fate that connects you two still tightens and twists around you at full force.
Your eyes narrow in disdain, and you scoff at his audacity to show up now of all times. His face falls at this, body slumping in reaction to your dissatisfied look. He takes another step toward you and you cross your arms over your chest, closing yourself off even more. For a moment your hate stops him, but he picks up speed when he remembers what’s at stake.
You feel his hands wrap around your shoulders tightly when his face comes into view. It takes every pit of your will to remain angry at him, though every inch of you wants to embrace him.
“You came.” You say meekly, the words don’t even feel as if they have left your mouth.
Vernon nods, “Of course I am, you’re here.”
“It’s a shame I’m going home now.”
The look of fear that rushes through his face is striking, it’s as if he has seen you drop a bomb onto his entire world. His grip tightens as he moves his hands down to steady your waist and he pulls you closer. It is a silent plea for you to stay, but your stubbornness takes the best of you. You push him away, a weak attempt, as you couldn’t give yourself enough strength to tear yourself from him. Instead, you’re hands grip his shirt tighter and the moment you feel the strength surge through the tendons in your limbs, it fades away into oblivion when you look at the sheer face of desperation in front of you.
But the alcohol that pulses through you leaves a scathing reminder that you’re angry and you cannot let that go.
You manage to wriggle yourself from his hands, and take a step back away from him. You cough, look away from him, then bring your arms closer to your own body before you speak again, “I’m going home.
Your tone is low, and entirely sure of what you want, and it scares Vernon far more than he can comprehend. He shakes his head immediately, “Babe please, you can’t go home like this, just stay here with me.
“What’s the point of staying with you if you can’t do the same? I don’t know what’s going on with you Vernon, but I hate that you don’t trust me enough to tell me.” You’re crying, and up until now you didn’t realize that so was the boy across from you. He looks so broken in front of you, the haze of alcohol not nearly enough to hide that fact. “I’ve been there for you for eight years. Seven fucking years, doesn’t that give me some eligibility?”
He looks at you, your eyes torn apart with utter sadness, but the rivers of tears that runs through his eyes can’t quite see them clearly as he’d like to. The feeling of a dagger sits uncomfortably in his chest; your hands wrapped around the handle, begging him give in. Each moment he waits, he feels it bury itself a little deeper, a dizzying ache leaving him stumbling.
A sound escapes his throat, a mix of hesitation and apology. You react instantly; pleading eyes send a wave of destruction over Vernon very being. He hates what you do to him, but he loves you far more than that.
“I-I can’t.” Is all he can say, and the flicker of disappoint that runs through your features is the final blow that sinks the blade to the point of no return.
You take a step back, hands clutch around your car keys. He watches you drift further, further away from him. A crowd of people push themselves in the growing gap between you and when they pass, you’re gone, stumbling to the door of your-no, his- Rav4. The metal feels cold under your fingertips, the sting reminding you that you can still feel alive. The door swings open, and you start the car faster than Vernon can push through the crowd for you. You tell yourself you’ll talk to him tomorrow, that this is all a petty fight and that you’ll get over it by the time you wake up. Tomorrow you’ll see him, you’ll kiss and make up and everything will go back to normal.
But tomorrow is too far away, and so much can happen in the brutal hours that pass until then.
A sick feeling settles within him, other than the heartbreaking beginnings of isolation that you leave him with but a terrible darkness that eats away at his stomach. He pushes through the crowd, aggressively shoving helpless students aside, paying no attention to who is in the way. He follows you blindly, trying to imagine where you walked off too, but when he finally makes it to the sidewalk, you are nowhere in sight.
It is then when Vernon gives up running, when he realizes that nothing can be done to save, though he desperately wants to. He screams into the darkness, a strangle noise that is laced with painful grief, yet the world around him is far too intoxicated to notice his display. His hands clench until his knuckles turn into the a ghostly white, spit and tears falling to the floor around him.
He thinks it’s over, yet when he feels himself drifting, far into the void of time, he finally breathes again. He watches himself fade to black, the world around him dissolving into stream of nothingness until an old classroom manifests before his eyes. He feels himself shrink, smaller, smaller until the hands that clench beside him are so small and lacking of any experience. His clothes recompose into a school uniform so familiar, he knows exactly where it’s from.
He sits in his desk, and when he looks up at an awfully sweet smile that greets him, he knows exactly what he needs to do.
For as long as you could remember, you hated Chwe Vernon…