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I did a bit of colour matching for my February journal sticker set so I won't have to think during the month itself :D
Both the sticker set and the aquamarkers are from Action, a cheap "we have everything" store here in the Netherlands.
#journal#bullet journal#bullet journal preparation#markers#aquamarkers#Decotime#newbie journal#stickers#journal stickers
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tips for finals review because it's that time again
hi everyone. it's happening again. this is my review method! I'm starting this slightly over a month before finals season.
start your plan with as much time possible to spare. like I said, im starting with a month of prep time
write out everything you need to review. I have mine sorted by subject. rank them on a scale 0-3 (0 being "I have never seen this in my life, 3 being "I have mastered this.") I have three checkboxes next to each of my topics
I aim to build my summary notes gradually over the first week and a bit. then, I convert those into cue cards.
now you're ready to start. on the first day, go through your entire deck of cards for a subject. put them into three piles; easy, medium, hard. now go back to your original list and rank your learning accordingly. do the same for each subject
each day, go through the hard deck, then the medium, then easy. then just hard and medium. then just hard. do this for every subject. as you do this, check in with yourself. keep tabs on your original topics list. the goal is to have everything ranked mastered before tests begin.
add additional review of topics as you see fit.
good luck, take breaks, remember to sleep and DO NOT CRAM.
that's all, ily
#studyblr#study blog#academic#bullet journal#study aesthetic#studyspo#bujoaddict#study motivation#academia#bujocommunity#finals#exams#uni student#student life#exam season#university#exam preparation#finals prep
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King of the Streets
Pairing: street racer!Jaehyun x journalist!reader
Genre: street racing au, action, drama, romance, slow burn, smut
Word Count: 28k (I just can't write short stories, I'm sorry)
Summary: The moment you find yourself hiding in the backseat of a sports car that's illegally racing through the city, you just know this story will finally catapult you to the top of your journalism career. But there are a few things you haven't reckoned: How personal this story will eventually turn - and the driver's sheer insatiable craving for lollipops. And for you.
A/N: I started this after Jaehyun admitted he would have liked to become an F1 racer if the idol-path wouldn't have worked out for him. I spiraled and this is the outcome - I hope you have fun reading it as much as I had writing it!
“It’s been three years since I’ve started working here, and-”
“Unfortunately, this doesn’t matter, miss.”
For an entire week, you had prepared yourself for this meeting with your editor-in-chief. You had written down all your achievements from when you were an intern to your current position.
And he had the nerve to tell you it all didn’t matter?
It had been three very long years with too many nights spent in the office to meet a deadline you were not responsible for, trips all across the country on your own account for stories that hadn’t even made it into the magazine, and work meetings where no one had bothered listening to your ideas and input.
After all the hard work and sleepless hours you had poured into your dedicated passion, it was unfathomable to you how he didn’t even bother bringing up the slightest interest in what you had to say, and it showed all over face in the form of widened eyes and slightly parted lips.
“Others have started prior to you and they’re in the exact same position,” your chief editor said, swaying in his chair. The city’s skyline spread behind him like a painting as the sun was setting, and more than once had you already imagined yourself in that spot. “What makes you think you’re better than any of them?”
An imaginary note popped up in your head. You got this, you were prepared for this. “I’m one of the firsts to go and one of the last to leave, I wrote the most clicked article on our website - to this day. I offer input to everyone who hasn’t got something going on, my personal and professional network that I’ve built throughout the past years is wide and strong. I’m the first one to take on suggested topics, the number of articles I publish per month is the highest out of all editors, I’m always up-to-date, I live for this job.”
The middle-aged man leaned forward and propped his elbows against the glass table, inspecting you thoroughly while you were bracing yourself to elaborate every bullet point. But he only said,
“No, I don’t think so.”
You were flabbergasted. “Pardon me?”
“I don’t think you actually live for this job,” he explained calmly. “For that, it takes more than research and cranking out as many articles as possible just because your writing is good. It is, trust me, but the stories lack emotion and graspable actions. Right now, you’re only sitting in front of the computer, writing from your imagination. You don’t live the stories, you’re not in them.”
“I take trips across the country to attend events, I participate in every press conference possible, I-”
Again, he interrupted you, “Hara got in contact with a designer and walked for his show as an amateur model. Dal went to the rooftop of the highest building in this city and took pictures that even made it into television.”
“But that is illegal,” you commented. “Hara smuggled herself in when one of the models fell sick and Dal nearly got caught by the police.”
“And we would’ve bailed for all of them.” He sighed deeply as if annoyed by repeating himself. “See, this is what I’m trying to say, miss. The writing that you’re delivering is clean and conformable to law. When I read your articles, I’m well informed, but nothing sticks in my head. We’re a magazine, not a newspaper. Nobody wants to read about the opening of a new restaurant when they can read about things they will never be able to experience themselves. You have to dive in the story, be in the story to make people believe they’re in them too when they read it.”
You were quite taken aback as you noticed he remained polite when all he wanted to say was, “So, my stories are too boring, not sensational.”
The editor-in-chief let out another long sigh and fell back into his chair. “You have a trademark, but you have to get out of your secure shell to actually go somewhere, otherwise you’re going to get stuck.”
You were a goody two-shoes was what he tried to tell you. You were on the top when it was about writing, grammar and quantity, but your stories didn’t attract anyone’s interest, and if that wasn’t the case, then you could write as many perfect articles as you wanted - you would never get a higher position.
You inhaled deeply. “So, what do you suggest I’d do?”
His answer was clear, “Look for a story that will change lives. Write a story that will leave people breathless, and you’re getting the position of a senior editor. Because miss, you’re one of the most capable journalists here, but you don’t only need to be capable, you need to be a storyteller. If you can do this, propose the topic to me next week. If it’s what I expected, it will make headlines in the next issue and secure your new position.”
If only it were so easy.
____
You were sitting in the fast food restaurant with your notebook opened in front of you. Every single page was blank even though you had been there for several hours already, the ballpen in your hand having barely moved ever since.
“Do you want to order something else?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
You could only imagine the eyeroll the waitress let out when she turned away from you after not getting another order for two hours. But you were already short of cash this month and wouldn’t get paid for another week.
Another reason why you needed the senior position: as a regular editor, you could barely get by. Why were journalists underpaid anyway when they were the source of daily news and this connected the world? You had never understood.
Many ideas had flown into your head, from working a day in a job that was notorious to interviewing an infamous inmate, but none of these were exciting or extraordinary enough like it was expected of you. The topics that you came up with didn’t immediately peak interest when you researched about what your fellow editors had ever written about. And what you found left you nearly speechless and doubting yourself.
Yes, you had always been tame, reserved, a goody two-shoes. That was why your mind was also not expanding to the way it was expected of reporters. Perhaps, you were not made for this job as you could also not quite learn how to do it right.
Should you perhaps change to newspapers after all? But the open positions were always so rare and you had wanted to start at your current magazine because it was the most famous in the country…
“Where are you going after this?”
“I’m going to watch the race, Falcon against Antelope!”
“They’re set for tonight? I didn’t know!”
“Pscht, not so loud!”
Since you already lost focus and let other people’s voices into your mind, you could also pack your things and go home. You were already so done for the day.
“Can I come with you? It’s been so long since the last time I went.”
“Sure. They’ll start at midnight, so we have to hurry.”
You zipped up your handbag and threw a few bills on the table, already with one arm up the sleeve of your jacket when you perked up your ears.
“Falcon will make a comeback, so tonight there will be a lot of cash flowing!”
“Wow!”
You cleared up your throat and walked up to the two young women on the nearby table whose conversation you had been partially involuntarily listening to for the last minute. Despite your attention only shifting to them much later, you got the gist of the entire story.
It was about illegal street racing, you had read an article about it a few months ago in which the alias Falcon had also been mentioned along with another animal that you had forgotten.
The Falcon was only stuck in your mind, because there had been an accident caused by him, and ever since then, the police were paying even more attention to these kinds of illegal activities. The fact that there would be a race tonight must be a well hidden secret.
“Excuse me, I overheard you’re also going to watch the race?” you feigned knowledge and quickly made up a story that would get them to talk. “Can you tell me where exactly they’ll start? I was going to meet my friend here who’s got all the info, but she’s not arrived yet and I’m afraid I’m gonna be late.”
They looked at you in wonder, then in amazement. One of them, apparently the better informed one, then nodded eagerly before describing the exact spot to you. “I guess it’s going to be quite full since it’s the first one with Falcon since the… incident. So everyone wants to see him. They’ll start at the industrial park at midnight.”
You nodded. “Thank you. Maybe we’ll see each other there.” You waited a bit until they had left the restaurant and then pondered whether to join or not.
There had already been many articles written about the Falcon and street racing in common, but since the most controversial racer would make a comeback, this race would be a special one, perhaps even kept secret to a point where no other media outlet knew about it. There was a slim chance that you were going to be the only reporter, so regardless of your current struggles, you had to take this opportunity.
Yes, an article about the Falcon’s comeback was good, but that was by far not enough for the story of your lifetime. It was better than nothing though, a beginning. And who knew what could come out of it.
As a journalist, you had learned that you were better off going and had something expected to write about rather than not going and missing on unexpected happenings.
So you headed to the industrial park.
____
When you arrived at the destination, you spotted a crowd that had formed in a wide, clear space between two buildings. There were about fifty spectators that had gathered, divided into different groups of various sizes, lights coming from the street lamps all around the place.
Through the gaps between the cliques that all seemed too engaged with each other to notice how lost you were, you discovered a group of men that marked themselves off everyone else.
It wasn’t particularly the way they were dressed as they all wore black leather, but rather the presence they radiated. But you couldn’t deny the fact that all of them were equally overly handsome, just in a way you wouldn’t be drawn to. You weren’t intimidated, you were scared to the bones, and you immediately wanted to turn on your heels and run right back home.
You weren’t much informed about the topic of illegal street racing aside from the few articles you had read. You only knew that it was one of the most dangerous underground activities that had cost a few lives already, of drivers and passerbyers almost equally. It was macabre that articles like these gained the most attention, clicks and sales.
Although you weren’t quite passionate about this kind of topic let alone approved of it, it was the best that you could come up with for now. You wanted to prove to your editor-in-chief that you were willing to take risks, willing to leave your comfort zone for the job - even if this wasn’t going to be the final story.
But now that you were right in the middle of this happening, you were getting cold feet. This wasn’t right. If you were caught as a spectator, would the police detain you too? And would your boss truly bail you out?
“Place your bet!”
You flinched when a young man popped up right next to you with a tablet in his hand, looking at you with expectant eyes.
“Pardon?”
“Place your bet!” he repeated. “Falcon against Antelope.”
“Oh, I only came to watch,” you waved aside. “But thank you!”
“You’re here for the first time, am I right?” The guy’s eyes narrowed. “Place. Your. Bet. This is how we’re financing this all. No money, no races.”
This wasn’t a question anymore, this was a demand, and you figured that if you were going to remain undercover, you had to play along and pretend to be like everyone else, even though you didn’t know the rules to this game. The guy was scanning you from head to toe, and it took you everything to restrain yourself from shaking when you took the tablet into your hands.
You had changed your mind entirely by now. You just wanted to be out of here as fast as possible, no matter what the editor-in-chief might say about this lost opportunity. It just wasn’t worth all this stress and fear. After all, you were quite attached to your life and a clear criminal report. It wasn’t that bad to be a goody two-shoes.
Still, you had to place a bet before you could vanish so that the guy would stop bothering you, so you scanned the display laying in your palms.
There were two columns, one belonged to the Falcon, the other to the Antelope. Each column was divided into different cells with the name and the amount of money one betted. No one had placed a single bet on the Falcon.
What was there to lose when the money would be gone from you one way or another since you were going to leave right after this anyway? You wouldn’t win a single penny.
So you placed a fake name and 70.000 Won for the Falcon, which was ironically the lowest bid for the Antelope. You noticed that most of the other people had betted much more, making you wonder about the total amount the winner could collect. But 70.000 Won was already very much for you, so you stuck with that.
“The Falcon, huh?” The guy grinned. “Risky, but I like the way you think. We only accept cash. Today it’s 20 million won so far for the winner, and ten percent of it gets split between the right betters depending on their bets. Maybe you’re lucky tonight and win ten percent of the entire amount yourself.”
You were holding yourself back letting out an audible gasp as it truly sounded tempting, and instead reached into your bag and pulled out your purse. 70.000 Won was a small price for your life, and you couldn’t wait to finally leave and never turn back. How high were the chances the Falcon was going to win anyway when nobody believed he would?
The guy grinned when he collected your money. “Interesting. It’s going to be an interesting race today. Good luck!”
He then went on to bother someone else all while you checked your surroundings for a hidden, but secure exit. Since you had used a fake name and only one person had seen your real face up close, it would be easy getting away unnoticed.
And you did.
Sliding along the buildings with your back pressed into the outer walls, nobody paid attention to you since the race was about to begin and a turmoil broke out shortly after your bet. You had been weighing yourself in safety, currently hiding in a blind, dark spot in the entrance of a different building with the street to freedom in sight when you suddenly heard male voices speaking up.
“Ready, Jaehyun?”
“More than you are.”
You froze on the spot when you saw several tall figures coming in your direction, their bodies illuminated by the street lamps, and you recognized the intimidating men dressed all in black leather who had been right in the middle of the crowd shortly before.
You couldn’t go back or forth, because either side was illuminated and would set the spotlight right on you, and flight forward would mean running directly into their arms. You could only push the door to the building behind you open and…
You found yourself standing in some kind of huge factory hall where only two cars were parked, the rest was entirely empty. Who in their right mind would rent a whole factory building for only two cars? Yes, they were expensive sports cars from what you could tell, the kind of ones that would catch everyone’s attention on the streets because of how luxurious and tuned they were… but an entire hall?
You were still processing and connecting all of this new information when the same door through which you had entered got pushed open again, and in walked all men that you had run from shortly before.
Your heart suddenly lept, and you feared that this was what a heart attack might feel like, yet you were very much still alive as you were able to desperately look for a spot to hide again while they hadn’t discovered your presence yet, but lingered by the entrance with the focus on two of them talking.
Out of reflex, as one of them turned into your direction, you fell to your knees and hid behind one of the cars - the matte black one -, suppressing a gasp the moment this exact car unlocked with a sound and flash from afar.
“I’m not afraid of you. I pity you.”
You needed a new spot to remain hidden with footsteps approaching this vehicle. Right now.
“And why would that be, Jaehyun?”
You had to think of something safe, but there was barely time anymore.
“Because you’re going to lose the race today.”
No way in hell.
There was no way in hell these were the racing cars! But of course, now everything made sense as to why those cars were being kept here, you just had been in too much of a panic to have connected the dots.
How you found yourself inside that matte, black car at this moment of realization, you couldn’t tell. Just like you couldn’t tell how you could have hoped to get out of this situation unnoticed all while hiding in a crouching position in the backseat with the only way to escape being visibly passing by these men.
If only you had stayed behind the car or under the car if you were to be discovered anyway, you could have somehow talked yourself out of this situation. But how were you going to explain you had actually sneaked into a racing vehicle? Out of all the dumb things you had ever done, this made it to the top of your list.
You flinched and threw yourself down into the small legroom between the driver’s seat and backseat, when you heard the door in front of you open and a figure seated himself behind the steering wheel.
No way this was your situation now!
Everything was better than ending up inside one of these cars, hearing it start and rolling out of the hall.
This… this situation couldn’t be real.
If you just stayed crouched in the legroom, not giving away a single tone or making a single move, maybe you still had a chance to survive this ride unnoticed. How you would handle this situation when you returned and had to reveal yourself if you didn’t want to be locked inside that car until you died of thirst… that was something you didn’t want to think about yet.
After a few feet, the car came to a stop in the clearing among the spectators, and you made yourself even smaller in case someone might want to get a look inside. By the way the crowd cheered and rejoiced, you hoped that the racer was the Antelope for god knows which reason. They were both racers with the intention to win by all means.
The noise got louder, went from muffled to clear, and you realized the driver had pulled down the window.
“Everything ready?” A male voice.
“I’m ready,” was the driver’s dry answer, a deep voice with a calming, soft undertone.
The engine was raving up, and you were tucked between the passenger’s seat and the backseat in a hole that was too tight, but because of that it was also the safest spot for the ride as there was no room to move anyway. Turning your head against the window at the opposite of you, you only saw light that flooded in and nothing else.
Dear god, you found yourself praying for the first time in your life, please let me live.
“Jaehyun, do you hear me?”
You flinched when you heard another voice.
“Clear and loud.”
“Only ten seconds left.”
“Okay.”
Was he communicating through a two-way radio with someone? You hadn’t expected this race to be so well-planned and coordinated. Was it always like this? This was an interesting and not widely known point. You only hoped your memory would keep all this information saved as you for sure wouldn’t be able to take out your notebook and write everything down now.
This was the journalist inside you taking the upper hand again. If you were already in this situation, you were going to write the hell out of it. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity you would never get again, the exact situation your editor-in-chief had talked about.
This was going to be your headline story. You only hoped what he had promised was true and your company would really bail you out if it came down to this. Or pay for hospital bills. There was no way you would be able to leave unscathed, physically and emotionally.
“Three!” the crowd yelled that you could also hear in the car as though you were standing among them.
“Two!” Your fingers gripped onto leather and something metallic, you couldn’t really tell.
“One!” You closed your eyes.
“GO!”
How equally unlucky and lucky you were to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or right place at the right time, it depended.
____
You were absolutely not safe in your hiding spot as expected. You got tossed and flung into every direction possible, and if it weren’t for the narrow space in which you had tucked yourself in, you believed that you would have been hurled into the seat right next to the driver already.
But you were gripping hard onto the cushions like your life depended on it just to prevent this from happening as the car sped through the streets and took every curve with such a sharp edge, you were amazed the vehicle didn’t drive on one side only by then. In your location, you weren’t quite able to catch the car’s speed, but only guessed by the street lights flashing by in less than a single second, which was, in your non-existent experience, quite much.
While the driver was talking to the person at the other end of the radio who was giving him directions and tips, navigating him away from police controls and crowded locations, you started to feel a bit braver with no more sharp curve having come in miles anymore. Most likely, you were on the highway now.
So you slowly arose and got on your knees. Curiosity eventually had gotten the better of you, and you wondered what the world outside looked like. In the end, no matter how you would come out of this, you had to make sure it must have been all worth it.
You had to come to the conclusion that if you moved a bit higher to look out of the window, he might spot your head from his position if he looked in the rear window. With a muted curse, you crouched back down, but instantly got hit by another idea. Dragging the phone out of your handbag was quite an act when you barely couldn’t move, but once you had managed to do so, you inwardly hyped yourself up.
You turned on the camera and pressed the record button, then imperceptibly motioned the phone over your head and let the upper part peek out of your lair with the camera facing out of the window. If he would look, then he would barely see anything, probably mistake the black edge of your phone for a shadow or a part of the car’s interior.
When suddenly a ringing tone broke through the silence inside the car though, you nearly let your device fall with a gasp. You thought you had the ringtone silenced for the entire day already, how was it possible?!
“Hello,” the driver suddenly greeted, and only then it took a load off your mind. It wasn’t your phone that had rung.
“Jaehyun, when will you come home?” The female voice sounded playful, childish. A kid? Perhaps a teenager even?
“Why are you still awake?” The driver named Jaehyun chided with feigned sternness, of whom you still didn’t know what he looked like and whether he was the Falcon or the Antelope. “It’s past midnight and you have school tomorrow.”
“I was waiting for you to come home.”
“But I won’t be home for another hour. It’s going to be late tonight.” The driver sighed, and he sounded very regretful. “I’m sorry.”
“Jaehyun, are you currently racing?”
Silence followed, and suddenly, you felt like you were going to overhear something no one else was supposed to eavesdrop. Like an intruder - which you technically and obviously were since this was obviously a conversation between two family members.
The driver repeated, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I won’t tell mom. I’ll tell her you’re studying in the library again.”
A yawn followed on the other side, and suddenly, you heard the driver snicker. Somehow, it didn’t fit his attitude that you had gotten a glimpse at earlier. Even his responses to the person at the other side of the radio had always been short and curt. But to this young person, he was entirely different.
“I will wait for you. Mom said I shouldn’t, but I cannot sleep if I don’t know you’re home.”
“I’ll come home safe.”
“Promise?”
“Promise, sis. I will always come home safe.”
Your arm that was holding the phone quietly slipped back into your lap, and you stayed silent for a very long time after they had hung up. This was so wrong. You had signed up for an adventure, not to listen to an intimate conversation between siblings that somehow also warmed your heart.
If you had learned anything from it, then it was that the driver was indeed a kind person deep within. It didn’t matter what he did, for what he did it and who he was in the end, Antelope or Falcon. They were people with stories, and if you were the journalist you claimed to be, you needed to look at both sides of the coin and bring out everyone’s own perception.
Wasn’t this what your editor-in-chief wanted? A headline that didn’t go “Illegal street racer makes a comeback! We are the first ones to interview him” but rather “He risked it all for his little sister, and now he’s back - read here about the tragic backstory of one of Seoul’s most dangerous men!” or something along these lines.
After you had gathered yourself again, you looked at your phone while the roads started to turn bumpier now. You assumed you had reached the outskirts and were hopefully on the way back to where it had all started. Gosh, you prayed for that, even though you hadn’t come up with a plan to explain your situation at all yet.
The video on your phone showed you exactly what you had expected to see: nothing but a blur of whites and black. Great. It was useless. But what had you even expected?
“We have a problem.”
You perked up your ears as you heard the other familiar voice through the radio.
“What is it?” the driver grumbled. “Not long and we’ll…” He paused, and even with the missing eye contact, you sensed how the mood had suddenly shifted. “I haven’t seen him in a while…”
“Exactly. There is an undercover police car underway, the informants have just told us, and it’ll stop right where you have to pass through. The Antelope apparently knew about this and already took another route.”
Antelope?! You knew you didn’t want to judge, but out of all possibilities which was 50/50, of course you would have ended up in the Falcon’s aka Jaehyun’s car, the very same person you had mindlessly betted on. What were the odds?
The Falcon snorted. “Now, will you tell me he didn’t set this up himself?”
“No accusations now. Let’s think about what’s best to do. We’re currently in Gangdong-Gu, you somehow have to leave the highway.”
“There is no possibility,” he growled back. “It’s a suburb, there is no way I can pass through it on time and unnoticed for me to win the race.”
“I’ll navigate you the best I can.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The streets are so short and narrow, it will take too long and is too complicated.”
“You can’t get caught by the police, Jaehyun. And they’re almost right in front of you. It’s better to-”
“Don’t!” he cut the person on the other end off. “I won’t give up. Not this time again. I need this win and money, you know that. It’s my comeback and reputation that I have to restore.”
“But what your family needs is you, more than money or your reputation.”
Silence. Your front teeth sank deep into your bottom lip as you were quarreling with yourself in silence. You knew what was right and what was wrong, what was legal and what was illegal, and what you were currently doing with the driver was far from being within the law as a matter of fact.
But his little sister wanted him to come home so that she could go to sleep…
“HEY!” you screamed and suddenly appeared from behind his driver’s seat.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
The car swerved to the left, hurling you out of your lair and right into the edge of the backseat with a dull pain that shot from your stomach right into every limb. You gasped for air.
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?” Despite you still not being able to face him, you got a glimpse of his face when you looked at it through the rear window. Clear anger and also shock was written all over it. You couldn’t blame him. “ANSWER TO ME NOW!”
“Don’t… have time,” you breathed and rubbed your back, getting on your knees and slowly rising from your position. “Gangdong-Gu… that’s where I grew up. I know this place inside out. I’ll navigate you.”
“Jaehyun, who is that with you in your car? That’s a rule violation!”
“I don’t fucking know who this is!” he yelled again, but not as loud as before, and before he could react to your actions, you had already crawled over the expensive interior and settled yourself in the passenger’s seat. “Who are you?!”
With a click, you fastened the seatbelt and looked out of the window. You knew exactly where you were now. “Take the second exit from here. We will pass by within the next two minutes. You will have to drive through a part of the neighborhood to change highways, but you’ll be fine at this hour. Once you have changed motorways, you’ll even reach the destination quicker. Is that a rule violation too? Taking a shortcut through the suburbs?”
You tilted your head and met his flabbergasted expression as he was staring at you with equal intensity where also curiosity was mirrored. “Uhm… usually we avoid that to not accidentally hurt any passerbyers. But…”
“It’s not a violation of the rules,” the person on the radio jumped in quickly. “It’s just unethical and something we would not like to risk.”
“Okay, thanks radio-guy.”
“Welcome, uhm… intruder-lady?”
“I did not intrude!”
“Well, how the fuck would you call this?” the Falcon interrupted.
“I don’t have time to explain now.” Your arm shot up and you pointed at a sign. “Take this exit! Right now!”
From the corner of your eyes, you clearly saw him struggling whether to trust you or not. Fair enough. You were a stranger that had hidden in his car and were now only popping up when it was about winning or losing. If anything, you could have been smuggled in by the Antelope’s team as well. No wonder he was doubting whether he could trust you.
“Screw it.”
You got thrown to the left when he suddenly swerved and left the highway according to your instruction. With your right hand, you grabbed the handle under the window for stability, once again questioning all your life choices. But you had thought long and clear about this. Having decided on helping him would result in the best outcome for your situation.
“Three rules,” he suddenly said when he drove into the neighborhood.
You shook off all your fears, speaking confidently, “I’m listening.”
“First. No word to anyone about what’s happening and what you’re doing right now. Nobody can know you’re in here.”
Why did he sound so intimidating? “Got it.”
“Second, you will lead me through this neighborhood without any incidents. Slow, steady and clear, you’ll be the navigator, the guy at the other side helps you from afar. One wrong turn, one accident or even the danger of one, and one late instruction, and I’ll kick you out of the car right there and then.”
No pressure, no pressure at all, you thought ironically to yourself. “Got it.”
“And third,” a voice on the radio chirped, “Don’t forget to have fun!”
“Shut up, Taeyong.”
“Third,” the Falcon repeated, “when we’re back at the venue, you’ll stay hidden inside here until someone comes and gets you.”
What would happen after, you didn’t dare to ask. Surely, they wouldn’t get rid of you… right? Either way, your fate had been sealed the moment you decided to come watch the race, so you gulped silently and gave a final nod.
The car came to a halt in front of a very familiar street. Everything was dark, empty and quiet. You took a deep breather and the Falcon’s head snapped in your direction. When you faced each other the next moment, you took a spare second to study his face.
If he weren’t in a racing car, you could imagine him very well sitting in a café, sipping coffee and typing something into his laptop, maybe even wearing glasses and ordinary street clothes, possibly even joggers.
He was just a normal dude under all these leather clothes that made him appear very tough, emphasized by this constant scowl on his face that was - admittedly - very handsome. After years in your field of expertise, you could read people very well and only seldomly were you wrong.
“Ready?” he asked, not breaking eye contact.
Neither did you. “Ready.”
The adrenaline flushed through your veins the moment he hit the gas pedal.
____
“Didn’t you sleep much last night?” your co-worker asked when you yawned for the nth time that morning.
What were you supposed to answer?
“I only got home at 4am last night, because I was street racing?”
So instead, you said, “I just couldn’t fall asleep, don’t worry.”
Nobody would believe you. And yet, these were the stories that everyone sought after. But only one ride was not resourceful enough and didn't contain enough substance for a decent plot. You needed the people behind it, the backgrounds and the experiences.
But after you had gotten out of the car, these people have made it very clear to you that you shouldn’t appear in a race ever again, not even as a spectator, and that your lips needed to be sealed for eternity. The fact that they had let you go without any consequences was only out of mercy because you had contributed to the victory - with a violation of rules though.
You had learned pretty quickly though that most of the time, they ignored these rules as long as nobody got hurt as physical incidents that included innocents were the highest breach of violation - just like the Antelope who had apparently cheated like the Falcon had assumed. But since nobody got proof, there hadn’t been more consequences than a few verbal attacks. As long as nobody had seen you inside the car and could prove it somehow, you were fine.
The only person that had thanked and had been nice to you was the Falcon’s navigator, Taeyong. He had even looked very sorry for what you had been through when he had opened the door to the car and you stepped out of the hideout between the backseat and passenger’s seat with shaking legs.
The Falcon hadn’t even looked at you twice when you walked out of the building - with all the money. Yes, surprisingly, they had still given you ten percent of the prize money. It was all rightfully yours since you had been the only one betting on the Falcon. Your bet had been officially registered and you had won, so it was fair and according to the rules that you would get what you earned, Taeyong had explained.
Deep down, you sensed that he only didn’t want to admit they wouldn’t have won without you, and this was them paying off their debt. After all, you hadn’t given out your real name, so they could have just said the betting person vanished. But you didn’t push the topic and saw it as hush money that you luckily needed anyway, and accepted it. Racers had a very high sense of ethics, you had learned by now. A thank you from the Falcon wouldn’t have hurt though. But instead, he had said you should never appear in front of his eyes ever again. What a rude man.
“Okay,” your co-worker said, “shall we go through the index for the next issue and compare the page numbers? Two pairs of eyes work better than just one.”
“Sure! Let me get the notes about what the editor-in-chief said. There were some important points he mentioned that had changed…”
You reached into your handbag to look for your notebook when at that moment, the telephone on your desk rang and showed the lobby’s shortcut number.
“There is someone waiting here for you, miss.”
“Alright, I’ll come downstairs.”
You wondered whether you had actually missed a meeting or an interview that you had set up for a story, but nothing actually came into your mind when you took the elevator and rode downstairs to the lobby.
At the front desk, you asked the lady where your visitor was waiting since you hadn’t spotted a familiar face as you passed by the waiting area. When she pointed at a figure sitting on the couch, slumped on the cushion, you needed to blink twice to match the face with your memories.
“You?!” you then called out when you stood in front of the young man.
He wore a snapback, glasses, joggers and a loose long sleeve. Between his lips, he carried a white stick, and you already wanted to call him out that smoking was not allowed in here when you realized that the stick was too thin to be a cigarette. It turned out to actually be a lollipop. When your gaze fell to his feet, you were able to count every single naked toe as he wore slippers. You were right. He normally didn’t look like this nighttime-self at all. During the daytime, he was just a normal guy who appeared to have just gotten out of bed.
When the Falcon arose from his seat, he didn’t even greet you. Instead, he took the lollipop out of his mouth, round and red, and just thrusted a notebook into your hands. Your notebook - the one you had wanted to fetch from your handbag earlier and which you needed for the meeting with your editor-in-chief later. You had been so sure that it was in your handbag this entire time!
“This was still in the backseat of my car. Take better care of your belongings. And don’t put your business cards everywhere. It’s not everyone’s business where you work or what your contact information is.” He then shrugged, made the lollipop disappear between his lips again and turned aside to walk past you, but you held him back by his arm.
“Wait!”
Slowly, he shifted his head back to you and asked lazily, but clearly despite the sweet in his mouth, “What is it now?”
He shook your grip off, but you just bluntly asked the question that had been on your mind this entire morning, “Let me ride with you one more time, please?”
He drew his brows together as if you had just asked the dumbest thing a woman your age could ask a man. And apparently, judging by his answer, you had done exactly that.
“Are you nuts?”
“You see, I’m a journa-”
“You people really think you’re superior,” he scowled, and you were taken aback. “Making money off of people’s personal stories, aren’t you guys embarrassed? I shouldn’t have returned your notebook at all. You’re all just selfish bastards.”
With a lowly look at you, the Falcon put more distance between you two, and although you were frozen on the spot and dumbfounded at first, you didn’t want to let him leave like this. Clearly, he had a prejudice about you journalists that you had to resolve.
“I’m not one of those journalists that make money off other people!” you told him when you had caught up with him, but by then you were already outside on the streets. “I tell real, verified stories, and only what people allow me to write! Only the truth!” He didn’t reply, but just continued walking, and you decided to follow him. “I’ve never lied or done anything without consent to write my stories. And that is what my editor-in-chief is always criticizing since this apparently holds me back from getting a promotion. In his eyes, I’m a goody two-shoes who doesn’t take any risks. But the truth is… I can’t do that, I’m fine that way! I want to tell the stories with people, I don’t want to tell stories against people! And I think you guys’ story is one very worth telling!”
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and you nearly ran into him from behind. One a few inches separated you from each other when he turned around to you and dropped his head to lock gazes with you. “I don’t think what happened yesterday with you breaking into my car was something a goody two-shoes would actually do, but a ruthless journalist.”
You let out a desperate cry. “I told you over and over again, I just wanted to watch the race, then changed my mind and wanted to go home when you guys appeared, and then I panicked! That wasn’t planned, and regarding how close I was to dying, I would choose to not do that again. Which is why I’m asking you formally for permission.”
The Falcon remained silent and inwardly, you raised your hopes up. If you could tell a great story in cooperation with him under an alias and his other friends, that would definitely secure your promotion.
“No.”
Then, he continued his way.
“But why?” You quickly caught up to him again. “I wouldn’t tell you guys’ real names and only write what you want to have written.”
“I don’t have a story to tell except that we like racing.”
“But there must already be a story to that, right?” you tried again, keeping up with his steps this time. “Why did you start? How did you start? How did you learn all this, how do you feel when you’re in the car, how does this whole teamwork function, do your other friends and family know and what do they think about it… I have so many questions!”
“No word about my family,” he interrupted you, the candy now in his hand to speak more insistently, and it didn’t sound like a warning at this point, it sounded more like a threat. “Whatever you heard in the car, you better forget about it.”
A soft spot - you had already discovered that. It was none of your business if he didn’t want to let you in as a stranger, but you also couldn’t stop wondering. “I already got that memo yesterday. But-”
Again, he cut you off. “Great. And if I still catch you publishing an article on what happened yesterday or what you eavesdropped… well, I know where you work and live thanks to your negligence. Goodbye.”
He put the lollipop back into his mouth and disappeared in the crowd. You were tired of chasing after him again, and truth to be told, you could understand his point. Taking a deep breath in, you settled with the fact that you had to change your topic, the promotion gone from your sight again.
Of course you could have written the article without any additional info or the reveal that you were in the car yourself, but then it would only be that, an article. But you wanted a story.
_____
You were scrolling through the internet, looking for new jobs.
You figured that if you were to stick with your old position, you could as well try your luck somewhere else. Perhaps, there were open positions on the same level as your missed promotion for which you could prove that you were qualified or that didn’t require you to do illegal and unethical things.
There were only two days left until you had to hand in your proposal for the story that would cover the next issue, and you still hadn’t come up with something else.
By now, you could also pack your things and leave the city since living in the countryside didn’t sound so bad after all. Sitting by the window all day, watching nature? A dream. But you had chosen to return and to stay in the capital on purpose, a quiet, secluded life didn’t suit your current ideals. You were a writer after all, always seeking for new stories to tell, and you believed Seoul told endless ones.
The ringing doorbell had you spin around on your chair. Your room was small, but it offered enough space for all necessities that only one person needed, which was why you rarely had visitors. And as far as you remembered, you hadn’t invited anyone over.
“Who is there?” you asked carefully as you approached the door.
“It’s me.”
You furrowed. “Who?”
“Me.” Pause. “Jaehyun.”
The Falcon. Lollipop-dude. What could he possibly want after your last argument?
You opened the door, and there he stood in front of you, hair slicked back and donned all in black leather - a stark contrast to a few days ago, safe from the lollipop spinning in his mouth.
He peeked through the halfway opened door. “It’s tiny in here.”
You snapped, “Well, nobody asked you to come.”
“Can I come in anyway? We need to talk.”
“I didn’t write anything!”
He rolled his eyes as you opened the door. “I know, that’s not why I came here.”
You closed the entrance door behind you and watched him standing in your room, a bit too big for your furniture, and also a bit lost in this environment. You struggled biting down a snicker, because this picture was just so surreal.
“What is it?” he grumbled.
You folded your arms in front of your chest and shrugged. “Nothing. So tell me, what do you want from me that even made you come to my home?”
The Falcon turned around to your desk and stretched out his arm, taking something into his hand that must be your notebook he had returned to you. Holding it up, he showed it to you with his back still facing you and asked, “You still want to write this story of yours?”
Perplexed, you could only nod, but as you realized he couldn’t witness your confirmation, you quickly agreed vocally, “Yes! Yes, of course!”
“Three rules,” he then started before slowly shifting back into your sight, the lollipop still in his mouth, and you noted that everything for him came with terms and conditions. How exhausting, three rules again. “You won’t use anyone’s real names. You will only write what I allow you to write. You won’t mention my family or my background. I am allowed to read the entire thing before you publish it.”
“Those are four rules tho,” you remarked, and his eyes narrowed.
The lollipop stopped spinning in his mouth. “I’m outta here.”
“I agree, I agree!” you corrected yourself. “I agree with all the rules!”
“Fine.” He handed you over your notebook. “Now get dressed, we’re going racing. I hope you have black clothes and a leather jacket, because this…” He pointed at your light pink pajamas in which you had changed into as soon as you came home, “is not it.”
Your eyes widened. “Now?”
“Now,” he repeated.
You hesitated.
“Your last chance,” he pushed.
“I’ll get changed.”
____
“I thought I was going to be in the car.”
“Didn’t Jaehyun tell you?” Taeyong asked with a cocked brow.
“Tell me what?”
“That guy…” He touched his forehead and pointed at the seat next to him, urging you to sit down in front of the three monitors standing on the desk. “We need you to navigate.”
“Navigate what?”
“What did you two talk about on your ride here?”
You heaved up your shoulders and let them down again. “Actually nothing.”
The ride in the Falcon’s car to this suburb had been quiet with him focusing on driving and you concentrating on what you could make this story revolve around. No, you had barely talked and had each lived in their own mind.
“You’re going to navigate the race. Basically be his co-driver, but from here, not from inside the car like last time,” Taeyong explained thoughtfully with a smile. “Basically, you’ll do my job, I’ll only be your co-navigator and the team’s manager fully again.”
“Navigator? Eh? I thought I was only going to stay here, writing. Maybe even get the chance to be inside the car again, but since it’s against the official rules, I didn’t even think of that.”
“Wait, he really didn’t tell you anything?” You were both equally confused.
“So I’m not just… observing?”
“Absolutely not.” Taeyong determinedly shook his head. “To be part of the team means to contribute something, and for you to write this story about us, you will also have to do your part. Actually, no outsider is allowed to be with the team during the race, because the risk of cheating and manipulation is too high, so this was the only option. Jaehyun has already fallen out of grace, we cannot allow something negative to be associated with him again when his reputation is just getting repaired.”
You wanted to know why the Falcon had fallen out of grace in the first place, but you came to the conclusion that it was not your time to ask just yet.
“And why me then? Aren’t you guys enough?” You tried to conceal your rising panic. “I can just sit here and write if I’m not allowed inside the car. Maybe do some cleaning of the vehicle before you start or do some promotion work. Something I can actually do. Nobody will notice I don’t have a fixed role in the team. Besides, I don’t even know how to navigate.”
Taeyong tilted his head, his smile growing wider. “But you’ve done an exceptionally good job last time. It doesn’t matter who navigates, the person just has to be good.”
You felt your cheeks getting warm by this compliment. “I barely did anything…”
“And yet, it was enough for him to win after such a long time and have people start betting on him again. He really needs the money, so you better help him win as many races as possible in return for getting a good story.”
Why did it sound like a threat despite his sweet smile?
You sighed. “What do I have to do?”
“Take this.”
Taeyong handed you a headset and instructed you to wear it which would connect your voice to the radio in Jaehyun’s car. Through the first monitor, you had the dashcam’s point of view, which gave you the feeling of being directly in the passenger’s seat, that was not bad. The second monitor showed the car’s location in the city with all streets and buildings through a GPS while the third showed another map but with different red dots spread across the screen.
“Those are police stations and control points.” Taeyong let the tip of his index finger glide over the screen. “... of the ones we know. Spotting cars following Jaehyun as well as unplanned control points popping up will be another challenge. And these devices are police scanners. As you can guess from the name alone…”
At first, you had been excited, but as you got everything explained and shown, it dawned on you how close the driver and the navigator actually had to work, and that the driver had to trust the navigator literally with his life. You didn’t feel very comfortable with that much responsibility weighing on your shoulders. What if something went wrong and he got caught by the police? Would you land in jail then too?
“Today, it’s going to be a cannonball run with two others, meaning Jaehyun will start here, but finish at the other side of the city where most of the spectators are waiting. That’s why there is barely anyone here right now. Of course they want to see the winner. As opposed to last time’s run, this is about time rather than bringing as much distance between the cars as possible. And you know how much the sum is that you can win?” Taeyong’s sweet smile got replaced by a wicked grin. “40 million won.”
“I can’t do this, I’m sorry!”
You jumped out of your seat and ran towards the door, opening it up. The starting point was somewhere in the suburbs where you had never been before, but you didn’t care as you pulled out your phone once you inhaled fresh air that filled your heated lungs, ready to call a taxi.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”
A huge figure blocked your way, and it only took you one look to first smell his lollipop, then recognize him. Damn, did he ever finish that sweet or did he have an entire stash in his pockets?
“I’m going home!”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because you lied to me! I can’t do this!”
Instead of talking you out of it, the Falcon raised his brows, then laughed, revealing his teeth between the red lollipop. “I knew it. Once a chickenshit, always a chickenshit.”
“A what?!” Your mouth stood agape, wondering whether you had heard right. “How can you say that?”
“I’m only speaking the truth. The first time, you also wanted to escape had it not been for us coming in your direction and forcing you to get into the car, right?”
You faltered. “Hm… okay, yes… but…”
He tilted his head and shrugged. “You dream about big stories, but this is what they will always stay for you: a dream. And you know why?” The Falcon leaned in, and you felt the sudden urge to withdraw, but you were completely petrified. “Because you don’t have the courage and the will to actually make your dreams come true. You're a big talker, a dreamer to put it nicely, but you’re not a doer, someone who gets shit done. I, in comparison, get shit done. And this is why I'm doing what I’m doing and you’re only watching from the sidelines, not being able to type down this story of yours like the goody two-shoes you are. Ever thought about the fact that you won’t get this promotion because you don’t deserve it?”
You weren’t aware that you had been holding your breath the entire time. Only when he approached you further and whispered in your ear, “Now go home, we don’t need someone like you here, we can do it without you”, you were able to exhale again, blood irregularly pumping through your veins while you clenched your fists.
With a fierce gaze thrown at him, you spun around on your heel, opened the door to the hall and yelled, “Taeyong, give me the headset and tell me what to do. For this round, I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” You threw one last look behind you at Jaehyun before you continued, “And next time, I’ll do it all myself.”
The door fell shut behind you, but you could have sworn that you saw the Falcon smiling.
This time though, genuinely. And perhaps partly relieved.
____
You were still shaking when you found yourself sitting in the Falcon’s car again, heading home in the middle of the night after your first race as a co-navigator. The other team members had brought you to the finish line in their car with them to celebrate, but there was not much reason for you to do so as of now. The shock was still sitting deeply with you.
“Everything okay?” the Falcon asked, but it still sounded like coming from another planet as your ears were ringing. “What are you even upset about? We won.”
“What I’m upset about?” you called out. “There could have been so many instances that could have gone totally wrong!”
“But nothing went wrong. Why are you always such a scaredy cat?” You didn’t look at him but straight out of the window. His eye roll was very visible in front of you though. “Just calm down, it’s irritating me.”
“I know everything ended well, but just imagine if a police car had suddenly pulled up. Or if someone had crossed the streets. Inside the car, it was exciting, but as an official navigator, you have so much responsibility…”
“Just enjoy the victory and the amount of money we’re going to share with you. Isn’t that what you wanted?” He murmured something about goody two-shoes again, but by now you were good at ignoring that. “Geez, did you ever have one single day in your life that you could freely enjoy without having a stick so far up your ass? Your poor boyfriend.”
It was the most nonchalant way in which you had ever witnessed the Falcon talk, even though he had mostly said nonsense.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I wonder why.”
You gasped. “Excu-”
The next moment, you tasted something sweet on your tongue. “Close your mouth and suck.”
Instinctively, you did as you had been told as you didn’t know how else to react. The Falcon kept driving the car through the city with his eyes fixated on the road in front of him as though he hadn’t just pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and nearly shoved it straight down your throat.
“Sugar helps me calm down and the motions I need to make distract me from unwanted thoughts,” he admitted, and his voice suddenly sounded so vulnerable that you didn’t dare to respond. “I think you need that now too.”
You slumped back into your seat, suddenly very quiet. You tried not to think much about the fact that his saliva was now in your mouth too, and that you didn’t feel repulsed at the thought at all. He had been right after all. Your hands were not shaking anymore.
“The fact that I participate in those races is because I need the money,” he continued and you somehow sensed that he was currently glad that you weren’t able to look him straight in the face in case you caught his true emotions mirrored there. “And I wanted you to be my navigator, because you had done a very good job the first time around. During the races, you appear to be panicked and disheveled, but you are actually calm and collected, always knowing what you’re doing and never doubting yourself. From the first moment on, I saw much potential in you, and I needed someone like that to strengthen my team.”
“... to win the races,” you finished what he probably thought to himself in silence.
“Exactly.”
“So to you, it’s all about winning?” Your mouth tasted sweet with each syllable, and only now you recognized which flavor that was: cherry. “You wanted me in your team, because you assumed I could contribute to your series of wins?”
“That’s my only life goal. Winning as many games as possible for the money.”
You didn’t know why his answer bothered you. Weren’t you also only on board because you needed to write about this experience to ensure you climb the ladder of success which would eventually also result in money and fame? You weren’t much different from each other. He probably was only a bit more reckless in money making than you.
“I understand,” you agreed when it eventually clicked. He was trying to fool you again, so you corrected yourself, “No, I don’t understand. The way you spoke to your sister… it’s not only about money for you.”
The Falcon scoffed. “Why do you feel the need to peg me as some kind of deep character? Because I don’t fit the narrative of your story?”
This stung. Most likely because he was right. People wanted to read about deep characters, if not about a hero, then about an antagonist who told them how he had become an antagonist. But nobody wanted to read about a greedy, selfish person.
“So the main character of my story is only after money,” you concluded dryly.
“Yes, this is something you can mention in your story. The person you write about is a selfish jerk who only thinks about money.” He let out a laugh, but it rather sounded rather bitter than genuine. “I know it’s not that very deep of a story, but never told you that what you would get was interesting.”
The lollipop clicked against your teeth as you replied, “No worries. I’m a professional.”
He wanted to make himself fit his very own narrative, and you needed him to fit your own narrative. Right now, there was no character to your story.
At home, despite the ungodly hour and your clash of interests, you typed down a summary of your story and handed it in the very next day, even before the deadline. This would be your story, one way or another. You were going to make the best out of it, with the Falcon’s cooperation or without.
____
“He is very popular,” you remarked.
“Oh, he sure is.” Taeyong thrusted a drink into your hand. “He just doesn’t like this attention at all.”
You watched the Falcon getting approached by both men and women who were desperate to talk to him while you watched with your new team from the sidelines. After another race together that the Falcon had won, Taeyong had invited you to something like an after party in some other team member’s big house. You had to work the next morning and didn’t want to stay long, but you supposed you had to do it for the experience and more substance for your article. The more you had to write about, the better.
“Can you imagine that only a few months ago, it was entirely different? Everybody hated him.”
“Hm?” You snapped your head to Taeyong. “Because of the accident he was involved in?”
The look in his eyes was impenetrable, but it softened when he watched his friend. “Yes, but the details to that… I’m sure he’ll tell you himself when he feels the time is right.”
Admittedly, you knew quite a bit already by just going around and talking to people, you were just keeping it a secret since you didn’t want to come off to the team as too nosy or pushy. But none of the spectators you had come to have a short conversation with knew exactly what kind of accident that had been. You had tried really hard to gather all the information, but they just differed too much from each other.
When one assumed the Falcon had hit someone with his car and drove away, the second guessed he had run into someone, but brought them to the hospital. And the third option, and that was the worst, those people believed he had killed someone in that accident. The newspapers that had reported on this case hadn’t mentioned anything more. Just the fact that the Falcon had caused an accident in a suburb that involved an innocent passerby. And that was still enough to fall out of grace in this community, that was how high their ethical standards were.
You wondered why, with such an incident happening that involved all kinds of trope that would make people drawn to it, there hadn’t been any follow-up reports by newspapers and magazines.
Taeyong had once let slip that Jaehyun had only been able to make a comeback after this incident because he had challenged the Cheetah. Apparently, nobody ever did that. And now you were even more curious about the Cheetah, the Falcon’s biggest opponent.
From what you had heard, officially and unofficially, he won all the races and was nearly untouchable. He only challenged someone just to show off how remarkable he was, but nobody ever challenged him. That was an unspoken rule - except for when you wanted to set yourself up for humiliation. And the Falcon had done exactly that.
You looked at your team which was already top notch with a driver who was nearly impeccable. You couldn’t imagine a team that was better. Apart from the one you worked the closest with, Taeyong, there was Johnny, the mechanic, and the one which they call the investigator, though you just believed that he was a hacker in reality - Yuta.
You had seen and worked with them before all the time, but getting to know them privately in peace made you realize one thing: These were all just normal guys who knew each other from university with a not so legal side hustle. They were splitting the winner’s entire sum equally among all of them, and even if they didn’t want that much as the Falcon was the one driving and inheriting the most dangerous part, the latter always insisted on it, claiming they weren’t a work environment, but friends.
The fact that you were now a part of this close knit group, made you feel a bit awkward as you didn’t know them that well yet, but the other fact that they had welcomed you with open arms, safe from the Falcon so far though, and already saw you as one of them, warmed your heart.
Even though the money had sounded very tempting as well and you surely always got your fair share of the work that paid more than a few bills, you were surprised how little it meant to you in the end. You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The races with the team… the preparation, the process, the talks in between, the shared laughter, the banter… you enjoyed this way much more than holding the money in your hands by the next day. It meant so less when everything else hoarded a much bigger feeling that was still so unfamiliar to you, but very overwhelming.
“Ah, there he is,” Johnny whispered to you and pointed at a tall guy, surrounded by other young men and a woman. “The Cheetah and his team.”
“That’s the Cheetah?” you asked. “The one he’s challenged?”
“The best racer out there and someone Jaehyun could never beat, someone no one usually challenges and beats.” There it was. Now, you didn’t need to feign lack of knowledge anymore. “Hopefully, until now. It’s about a lot of money and the people are already anticipating it. It’s gonna be the race of the year. Maybe, Jaehyun will take his crown.”
You hadn’t known it was going to be this big and anticipated. Now, you also understood why people had welcomed the Falcon back despite whatever everyone imagined the accident to have involved. The best and most popular racer against the underdog who had fallen deep, wanting to rise again? That surely made a headline.
“The woman in that team, is she also a navigator?”
“Yes.” Taeyong nodded. “Women are mostly navigators, there rarely are female racers. As of today, I only know of two who are still active. But it’s really hard to recruit women for your team, no matter which position.”
“Because the job is illegal and hard?”
He nodded again. “Women usually don’t want to be involved in illegal activities.”
“... I can relate.”
All eyes now landed on you and you shrugged. “I just really need this promotion, you know that, guys. Just once in life, I want to be fortunate and successful.”
You were glad you could be totally open with them and not get judged, because you all were here for the same reason. This illegal sport benefitted all of you in some way.
“Just like I need money to finance my studies,” Taeyong said.
And Yuta added, “I really want to found my own company in the future.”
“And one day, I really want to move back to the US,” Johnny finished.
You were only people with dreams and ambitions. If you did things like these with all the precautions and didn’t hurt anyone, no matter how selfish or selfless, then was it really wrong to chase after your longings? You still gave the Falcon the benefit of doubt over the incident. Your team was fair and good, you wanted to believe so hard in every single one of them.
Knowing his friends and what they did for each other, you now were a hundred percent sure that there was a deep reason the Falcon always put his life on line too, and that he wasn’t as reckless and as money-hungry as he had first made himself out to be. None of them were.
Taeyong studied to help out his family, because his father couldn’t work anymore. Yuta wanted to open up a company, because his family got robbed of theirs. Johnny wanted to go back to the US to take care of his mom.
“I first thought it all boiled down to money, that glued you together,” you thought out loud. “But I was so wrong.”
It was way more than about money. It was about friendship, family and dreams. Of some things, you had only ever heard of and never experienced yourself - and most likely never would. And as this thought settled, you realized that you were the one doing all this solely for fame. You were the selfish, money-fixated person in this group. You were the one wrong here.
“It all comes down to trust in the end,” Johnny complemented. “Without a tight-knit team that doesn’t trust each other, you cannot make it.”
“But why me?” You frowned. “I didn’t do anything to earn your trust. I’m just here, because you caught me.”
“Oh, but you did win our trust!” Taeyong then objected and Johnny and Yuta nodded along. “With the way you helped Jaehyun when you were stuck in his car, that was the first race he had won after a long while and which has restored his reputation. You didn’t help him because of the money, I heard the entire thing.”
They trusted you? Why was your chest grabbed by a feeling so overwhelming like it was going to explode at any moment? Perhaps, at this point, you could imagine being friends with them too eventually… if they wanted to still have someone as selfish as you around.
“I didn’t want to see him lose,” you reluctantly answered. “At that moment, I didn’t think about a story. I just cared for his sister… and for him.”
Because you never had had the experience of being in a real family, you wanted to protect everyone that still had one. You remembered the phone call the Falcon had made, that he had promised to always come back to her. Basically, you still knew nothing about him, but what you knew was that he was way more than he made himself out to be.
You didn’t need to invent a story about him to fit your narrative. He had fitted it all along. You saw it clearly now.
“Okay, enough with the long faces, guys!”
Johnny threw his arms around all of you and huddled you all together.
“You’re suffocating me,” Yuta complained, though the playfulness clearly stood out in his voice.
“People are looking,” Taeyong worried, but you couldn’t help but to chuckle.
“So what?” Johnny let you all go again and shrugged. “How about a round of drinks for us? I think we all need it now.”
“I’ll get the drinks.”
You all shifted your head in unison and saw the Falcon having moved to your group, no sign of other people anymore, although you could have sworn he was swarmed by them only a few minutes ago.
“What about your fans?” you wanted to know from him and joked, “They all got an autograph already?”
His reply was dry with a gaze just as similar, “I told them to leave me alone.”
“Jeez, Jaehyun,” Taeyong complained, “with a behavior like this, no one is going to bet on you in the future.”
“They shouldn’t bet on who’s the nicest anyway.”
Yes, the Falcon wouldn’t be the winner of a be-nice-award. But when he volunteered to get the drinks and naturally included you, you figured that he didn’t need to voice his kindness. He rather showed it.
____
“Why will you drive me home? Didn’t you drink?”
“Because it’s late and dark, and I need to go home too. And of course I didn’t drink alcoholic beverages this entire time, are you nuts? Now, get in.”
You looked out of the passenger’s seat’s window when the car started rolling, lights flashing by in a blur as you drove through the streets at a normal speed, and yawned. “The party was just getting to be fun, you didn’t have to leave with me.”
“Just take this free ride, will you?”
“Okay.”
You listened to the Falcon’s lollipop clicking against his teeth when he moved it in his mouth and you yawned again.
“I spotted the Cheetah earlier tonight,” you said. “What’s the deal with this big race that’s coming up?”
“So the guys told you, hm.” The movements of the lollipop stick stopped. “Our history runs deep. To sum it up quickly: I can win against anyone, but never against him. I need to break this curse.”
“I get it,” you declared and leaned back in your seat. “You never beat him, so the rage waves just get stacked on top of each other, and the more races you lose, the more you want to win. Just like we journalists fight to have our stories be headliners every month and there is always this one person who snatches them the majority of the time.”
The Falcon sighed. “A weird and out of place comparison, but I guess you’re not entirely wrong.”
You seamlessly continued, “When was your first race against him?”
“I guess when I turned 21. That’s when I started racing.”
“Wow, so many years and no win against him? It must be frustrating.”
“Yeah, just rub more salt into the wound,” he muttered, a bit offended, “but as I said, this is going to end in a few weeks. He won’t be Kind of the Streets anymore. It will be me who will take the crown.”
“King of the Streets?” You asked. “Is that the official title?”
“Just a label we throw around in the community every now and then, but nobody gets literally crowned, if you know what I mean. He’s just been inheriting this title forever, and I’m sick of it.”
“Did you only start because you wanted to win the title?”
“What? Of course not! I started because my fa-” He stopped. “Hey, I know what you’re doing!”
You giggled. “Don’t worry. I didn’t ask you as a journalist, I ask you as your teammate, your navigator. We have made rules and I will stick to them. Is it too much to ask for, getting to know you? We spend so much time with each other, we trust each other, don’t we?”
He became silent. You got him. “I guess so.”
This reply surprised you very much as you hadn’t expected it. But you regained your composure very quickly despite the feeling still lingering in your chest. “How many siblings do you have... Jaehyun?”
It was the first time that you vocally said and thought about his real name. You had been avoiding it, but you couldn’t keep calling him the Falcon. He was human too, although he would remain anonymous in your story.
Jeahyun paused, but eventually replied, “You already know of my younger sister. She’s the only one. I live with her and my mom.”
“How old is your sister?”
“She’s fourteen.”
“So, in middle school.”
“Exactly.”
Where was his father that he had nearly mentioned? You wanted to ask this and much more, but the way his voice had changed by the end, you knew that this was it for today. And it was okay. He should only share what he felt like sharing. Instead, you decided to tell him more about yourself.
“I live alone. My parents divorced when I was a little child, and since my mom moved abroad with a new man directly after, I stayed with my dad. But he was addicted to booze. I had to grow up fast, because whatever role a parent usually played, he wasn’t in the position to take over it. One day, when I was the same age as your sister, he didn’t come home.”
Jaehyun breathed in deeply, and you sensed that he was about to drop a comment, but held himself back from doing so at the last second. You were unsure whether this was a sign to continue or not, but you did anyway.
“He got caught in a hit and run accident. He was the driver. Despite me telling him every day to cut out on the booze or at least never get into the car with alcohol in his system, he always did. And on that fateful day, he took an entire family with him.”
Having this story sealed in your heart for such a long time, you didn’t expect the syllables to fall from your lips so smoothly as though you were retelling someone else’s past and not your personal one. After all these years, you felt nothing anymore.
“Your question from before we got into the car…” Jaehyun started, but refrained himself from ending the sentence.
“If you had drunk something, I wouldn’t have gotten in the car with you. And If you had drunk something during a race, I would have quit right away.” You smiled mildly. “I’m relieved your addiction is lollipops.”
“Why had you agreed on being my navigator?” was Jaehyun’s next question. “You should resent people like me.”
“I can’t resent the world just because I resent my father. I want you to always come home to your sister like you promised her.”
He fell into silence. Perhaps, you had crossed a line, perhaps not. But you wanted him to know that you cared. You collected stories every day from different people and they all affected you, every single fate, more or less. But for him, you didn't care like a journalist for a subject. You cared like a friend.
“I want that too,” Jaehyun eventually responded. “Always coming back home to her.”
You smiled. “Then let’s work together well.”
____
With every race, you got calmer and more professional, and even though you had lost two races so far - as constant wins were an exception anyway except for when you were called the Cheetah - Jaehyun won with you, his team, almost all races, and he rose to the top again, shining as the Falcon in all his glory.
You still weren’t able to shake off your nervousness and slight panic entirely, but you got better in managing those feelings and most importantly, you didn't let it seep through the headset for Jaehyun to feel.
Through the next races, your connection only got stronger as you figured out a way to work silently and peacefully with each other. You even bonded over unfunny jokes and small conversations you held in the car when he drove you home, which he always insisted on - most likely because you were a woman and it was usually the middle of the night.
Jaehyun’s car was his safe space, because he knew whatever you talked about, even though most of the time it wasn’t even something important, it would never leave his vehicle without his permission.
“I never drink alcohol,” he suddenly told you on one of these rides home when you both got out of the car as you had decided to make a short stopover. “I never know when my sister or mom will need me since my father is not here anymore.”
It was the first time in a long while you talked about something other than the races, teams, your job and other trivial things. You had rarely talked about his personal topics ever since that one time. You were happy to hear that you finally reached this point again, and the conversation was even opened up by him.
Jaehyun seated himself on the car’s hood and you carefully crawled up to him. He made space for you and reached out his hand when you teetered, securing you while you settled right next to him. After having taken your place, you followed his gaze and encountered a view that you hadn’t seen before.
He had wanted to drive out of the city after this race just to clear his head, and you had complied despite this late hour. Now, you were watching the sunrise from the top of a hill on an early summer morning, wondering how a moment like this, that you had never dreamed of before, was suddenly making you so happy.
“Where is your father?” you finally dared to ask, because the moment felt right.
“In prison for fraud,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “He committed a huge tax evasion crime with his own company, not only taking the business down, but all of our savings as well along with the family’s reputation.”
You were shocked. “I don’t know what to say… I’m so sorry, that’s horrible.”
“He consciously did that, knowing exactly the outcome of his actions, what it’d cause us, what it would make of us.” His blood was boiling, it was palpable. “And now, my mother is working two jobs just to make the ends meet and pay off the debt because of this selfish, money-hungry bastard.”
Jaehyun… was he racing to support his family too, just like his friends? Because a son who described his father as a selfish, money-hungry bastard couldn’t be one himself.
“I guess we both grew up with father figures we couldn’t really rely on.”
On top of the car were sitting two people with inner children that had been abandoned by their parents at some point. But you both had learned to make it through life without them. Screw them, you were going to make it better than your parents.
“I don’t want my sister to grow up thinking all men are like our father. I’m not the perfect example for an older brother, but I would do everything to give her the life she wants, such as illegal car racing just to open up the possibility to her of enrolling into her preferred university.”
So that was why and always, it was about winning races for him. Even though he had claimed otherwise in the beginning, he was not someone superficial who only cared about fame, you had always known. He cared about his family, and friends. And, as someone who hadn’t grown up with the first, it was pretty touching that a brother would do that for his sister. Nobody had ever done that for you and you didn’t have someone who would even consider doing this for you, too.
“You sister must be really proud of you.” You smiled. “You’re a good person, Jaehyun.”
Suddenly, he turned cold. “Easy for you to say, knowing only this side of me.”
These words hurt you after spending quite a lot of time with each other.
You had gotten to know his friends and now some of his backstory. You knew you were in no position to feel this way considering that he didn’t see you as his friend yet apparently. Still, it stung somehow.
“When I was your sister’s age, I would have loved to have an older brother by my side who cares so much about me. I was all alone, but your sister has you. Whether you see yourself as a good person or not, Jaehyun, it doesn’t matter to your sister at all. You’re good in her book, that’s enough.”
“I appreciate you saying that.” He was being sincere, judging by his voice. “My sister doesn’t endorse my… side hustle. But she accepts it without a complaint, because she knows that’s what gets us through. My mom on the other hand… You know how moms are. So we keep it a secret from .”
No, you actually didn’t. And Jaehyun only realized that when he saw how your face fell. “I shouldn’t h-”
Yet, you tried to overplay it with a shrug and a wave. “It’s okay. It slips off most people’s mind, because having a family is something we suggest everyone has. I don’t blame anyone for thinking the same about me.”
“It’s not okay, I’m sorry for speaking so nonchalantly,” Jaehyun replied determinedly, taking you aback. “I will pay more attention to what I’m saying from now on.”
Nobody had ever reacted that way to such a sand trap. You were really surprised how understanding he actually was. “It’s not like I grew up not knowing what a family should be like,” you continued. “I saw it in the foster family that took me in until I left high school. I saw it in my friend’s family who I spent most days with. I saw it walking through the mall passing by parents with their happy children. I know exactly what it should be like having a family, I just never had one of my own.” You dropped your head, tilting the corners of your lips slightly upwards. “But one day, I dream of having one and do it all better.”
The silence that followed made you realize how bright outside it had already gotten, and also that you had just confessed your deepest wish to someone who didn’t even consider you his friend. It had something slightly embarrassing, but also comforting, because you knew he would understand you nonetheless.
But Jaehyun didn’t say anything back directly, and you felt a bit lost. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel validated or overlooked, the gaze in his eyes reflected nothing but understanding after all. Perhaps, he just wasn’t as good at expressing his thoughts as you. And that was fine as you were a writer after all. As long as you could comprehend what seemed to go on his head, you were fine with the way you communicated. It was this fine bond between the racer and the navigator.
“Get up, we’re getting breakfast,” Jaehyun eventually prompted.
It sounded great after a good race so you didn’t complain. “Okay!”
Jaehyun was already back on the ground while you still struggled getting off the hood without slipping. That was until you felt two strong hands gripping onto your sides and heaving you up as though you were as light as a feather. You could have sworn when you got inside the car, his hand lingered on your waist a bit longer than it needed to. But it could all have been in your tired mind as well.
____
You hadn’t known breakfast would be taken in Jaehyun’s house.
“Please come in and eat, dear, we have enough!”
His mother was a cordial person whose smile brightened up the entire home upon entering. You instantly felt welcomed by her cheerful personality.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” you greeted her back and kind of awkwardly followed her into the kitchen where she had already set up the entire breakfast table for four people after Jaehyun had called her from the car to inform them they would have a guest over.
Different main and side dishes were presented, and you didn’t know where to look let alone what to eat first. You could tell Jaehyun’s mother had gone beyond and above to prepare this breakfast as he had given you a heads up that she usually left very early and came home late just to sleep the little time she had remaining. Yet, she never failed to eat breakfast with her children or at least make food for them every single day. That was motherly love.
You suddenly felt a wave of warmth spreading through your body. She wasn’t your own mother, but right now, you felt very much like part of a family you had never gotten to experience yourself. And Jaehyun had wanted to show you.
Tears welled up behind your eyes as you took a seat at the opposite of him, and you tried to hide your sentiment, yet still sneaked a look at him. His soft gaze, he hid behind his long fringe. His caring demeanor, he hid behind his rough words. His apparent worries, he hid behind a long scowl. But this was all a facade for what he truly was: a loving son and brother and so much more than a money-hungry, selfish racer.
“Did you guys study hard for the exams the entire night?” Jaehyun’s mom asked and you tilted your head in confusion.
“Yes, mom,” Jaehyun replied. “But she’s not a student anymore, I just picked her up on her way to work.”
She turned to you. “Really? What occupation do you inherit, dear?”
You looked into Jaehyun’s direction for approval, but he remained silent and nodded, so you told the truth, “I’m a journalist.”
“Really?” She clapped into her hands and laughed. “Jiyeong wants to become a journalist too!”
Before you could ask who Jiyeong was, a female voice already asked, “What’s with me?”
She didn’t look much like her brother. In fact, from the moment you saw her, you thought she was the spitting image of her mother, both very beautiful.
“Jaehyun’s friend here is a journalist, Jiyeong. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Really?” Jiyeong’s eyes started to sparkle and she approached you, seating herself right next to you. “I’m editor-in-chief at our school’s newspaper! Where do you work? I read almost all newspapers and magazines on a daily basis.”
While you were explaining to Jiyoung what articles were written by you of which she indeed remembered one or two, their mother placed rice in each of your bowls along with Jaehyun’s help.
You now knew why he had wanted specifically you and came back to recruit you not only once, but twice. The first time, he had most likely not thought about involving you yet. With his sister being into journalism, he knew how important your notebook was to you and genuinely only wanted to return it. The second time, he actually came around and wondered why not combine your talent for navigation with your occupation and get at least something out of your deal, not only for you, but for him - and his little sister - too.
“My dream is to attend Ehwa Woman’s university,” Jiyoung told you when you all started eating. “Where did you study?”
You smiled. It had been your dream to go to Ehwa too. But you didn't have money or relatives who could have supported you, so you attended a university far away from Seoul that was cheap in comparison. “I went to Chonnam University in Gwangju.”
“And you came back here and made it so far! I really look up to you!”
You flushed as you had always felt inferior to your colleagues who had attended the big and popular universities in Seoul, but Jaehyun’s sister not judging you by that but complimenting your actual skills touched you very much.
“Now, let her eat, Jiyeong! She hasn’t even come to touch her food yet! Please dig in, dear before it gets cold!”
It was your first breakfast together with loving people in many, many years.
When you stood outside with Jaehyun, waiting for his sister to get her backpack for school so that he could drive her there, you told him, “Thank you for introducing me to your mom and sister. I know why you did that.”
Because he wanted to show you what it felt like to have an actual, loving family. Because he wanted to show you that your work was never for vain. He had eventually become your friend, and you his. Yes, friend. But you didn’t speak it out.
“When I found out that you were a journalist, I immediately thought great, I need to introduce you to my sister!... But journalists also destroyed my life by writing articles not only about my dad’s crimes, but also about me,” Jaehyun explained, and you nodded, knowing it was about the mystery incident he had yet to tell you. “My sister never lost focus of her dream though. She told me she wanted to be one of the good ones, no defamation, always after the truth. So when you told me you were one of these people too, I thought that maybe, I can trust you after all, even with my life.”
“And you can!” You touched his arm in a gesture of comfort, and although his eyes widened, he didn’t pull away. “I stand by what we’ve promised to each other. I won’t publish anything without your consent. And if there is anything in the past that I have to clear up for you and your family, I will do so too.”
“Mhmm.” You saw him struggling through his mien, but he didn’t respond, apparently still needing to make his mind up. If so, you let him.
“So, what do you study? You never told me.”
“Nothing.” He heaved his shoulders and slowly dropped them again.
You frowned. “But didn’t you-”
“I dropped out last semester right after the incident.”
“But your mo-”
“- doesn’t know. Neither does my sister.”
You didn’t want to judge, that was not your job, as a journalist and as a friend. So you asked, “Why?” although you could most likely already make out the answer.
“We can’t afford it as of right now, so I’m postponing my graduation. I definitely want to return, but as always, it boils down to money,” Jaehyun clarified. “I want to do it better than my father. I want to found my own company too and provide to my family the life they deserve. Even if the path to this aim might not be all legal, I promised to myself to leave this part of me behind once I’m there.”
“...And I will do everything in my might to win every race for as long as we’re working together, Jaehyun.”
“For my sister? Or for your story?”
“Not only for me, but also for your sister,” you repeated, “for your mom and for y-”
You swallowed the last part, but the way his features softened suddenly, he might have understood nonetheless, and it made your heart flutter. Perhaps, in his eyes, you were now friends as well.
____
“There is nothing personal in this story.”
You felt defeated. You had hoped, with handing in your first draft, your editor-in-chief would be totally invested in the story as well, encouraging you to continue and maybe even compliment you on the premise. Instead, while reading through all the pages with you sitting anxiously in front of him, his facial expression had fallen more and more.
“What do you mean?”
“The beginning is very intriguing with you sitting in the car, racing with him. It’s perfect, the reader gets thrown right into the story. But after that?” He shrugged and threw the papers back on his desk. “Nothing. No feelings, no emotions, just scenery description and a lot of theoretical stuff. Nobody cares about how the navigation system works or how the cars are tuned.”
“Oh, I thought it might be interesting to read how the team stays connected and what makes the cars so special.”
“Nobody cares,” he retorted dryly. “That’s not the stories people like to read. They can google all that stuff.”
Although it hurt your feelings, you had to silently admit that he was right. You hadn't given much away in the article about how Yuta worked behind the scenes or what the navigation system was really capable of according to Taeyong, but had to google a lot of things yourself too. You had wanted to give as little personal details away as possible, but apparently, it was too less. Your article was just boring.
“There is no common thread,” he criticized sharply. “Do you want to write about yourself being involved, about the sports in common or about the Falcon? Because right now, it’s all of this and nothing at the same time. If you’re that involved, write about what you do, how you learned it, about your feelings during the races. If you write about the sports, interview other teams, the spectators, dive into the history. If you center the plot around the Falcon, what’s his background, what does he race for, what’s his aim?”
You exactly sensed which direction he wanted to push you. “I’ll write abo-”
“I think,” he cut you off, “if you want to make it a headliner, you have to focus on the Falcon.” There it was. “Why did the Falcon really pause for so long? Is it true that he had caused an accident during a race? What really happened back then? How did he regain his fame? What made people change their minds? And most importantly, is he going to win and what will he do with the prize money? These are the questions that intrigues the reader. They want emotions, passion, they need to feel something while reason. Right now, everything I’m feeling is my hunger since it’s almost lunchtime.”
You purposely overheard his subtle taunt. “Those are very personal questions that he doesn’t want to talk about.”
“Well, then make him.”
You kept it to yourself that you already knew most answers. “As journalists, we also have to respect the people’s privacy and opinions.”
“Then make the entire story anonymous with all the personal information gathered,” he proposed. “It’s not less personal, but no names are given away.”
“I already plan on doing that.”
“So what’s the problem?”
”People will still know, that’s how known he is. I cannot reveal things he doesn’t want me to reveal.”
Either way, anonymous, with his alias or even real name written in the article - it would hurt him all the same. It was his personal story, his family, his friends. It made him beautifully human, but also painfully fragile. It was his story to tell when the time was right, when he decided to do so, not you.
“Very well.” Your boss got up from his seat and took his jacket. “You can publish it like this if you want. I guess for a nice closing story at the end of the magazine, it's enough.”
For the first time in your life, you were having a clash of interest. There it was in front of you, your dream job position, so close if you were only selfish enough. And behind you stood the man whose trust you had just gained, begging you to respect his past wounds. What would you do?
____
It wasn’t easy, balancing racing by night and working by day. Oftentimes, you didn’t get more than four hours of sleep, spending time at home after work just to shower, change and then leave for a race again. You didn’t complain. You never did, because you enjoyed it very much. The newly formed friendship between you and Jaehyun’s team was something that brightened up your day as you had never experienced this kind of bond before. But you also didn’t leave your aim out of sight.
With Jaehyun’s rising popularity though also came people who voiced out their doubts about him even louder. You had just finished this night’s race and were waiting for Jaehyun to take you home, already looking forward to a bit of alone time with him, when you overheard a group of young men passing by.
“I don’t care what others think or whether he’s popular,” one of them said. “As long as he’s staying silent, he’s guilty in my book.”
“In mine too,” the second chimed in. “Why has he never said anything on that topic? And now, only because he’s winning so often and challenged the Cheetah, everybody seems to have forgotten about it? Bullshit.”
Your fingers clenched by the time the third one commented, “Don’t worry guys, he’ll fall out of grace as far as he has fallen. It’s always like this.”
“Hey!” Now, you couldn’t listen to this conversation any longer and stepped out of your dark corner. “Do you feel proud, talking like this about a person you don’t know?”
They stopped in their tracks and turned around to you. “And who are you?”
“Oh, I think she’s their navigator!”
One of them stepped in front of you and grinned. “Then, you must know the truth if you’re in the team and fight for him so desperately, right?”
The other two followed suit and laughed in unison. “Or are you in love with him and would defend him even though he’s guilty?”
You realized that you actually didn’t care about the truth anymore. You didn’t care when or whether Jaehyun would tell you one day at all. But that didn’t withhold you from defending him like your life depended on it. Someone who loved his family and friends so dearly, who always paid much attention to the street and passerbyers, who had to talk you into taking a detour just because there was a crowd of people he had to race by… you would always defend your racer.
“The truth is none of your business,” you said confidently. “Do I ask about what mistakes you’ve made? A person I do not know personally? What has this got anything to do with his performance anyway? Either you bet on him or you don’t, but nobody forces you. He doesn’t need your dumbass opinions to win, he doesn’t even know who you are.”
“Hey…”
You couldn’t tell who had spoken up, but you didn’t care much as you just hit your stride. “How about you get in the car and try to do the things these racers do? I bet you wouldn’t even last a few minutes on these streets. It must be so peaceful, watching from the sidelines with your big mouths as long as you’re not the ones in action, am I right?”
“Hey!”
Little did you know that the voice had come from behind you. Only when you felt an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to a chest whose scent smelled very familiar, it dawned on you that no one in the group had tried to speak up, but it had been Jaehyun who was standing behind you, most likely all this time already.
But he wasn’t mad, even though your cheeks were burning. “Listen to my girl. If you dare to raise your voice against her again, you’ll be the ones the newspapers will be writing about the next day. Understood? Now, good riddance.” One opened their mouth to retort, but Jaehyun didn’t let him. “I SAID GOOD RIDDANCE!”
They were out of your sight quicker than you could process, and Jaehyun let go of your shoulder the same moment.
“Come,” he urged you, and you silently followed him to the car. “I have to show you something.”
After you were driving for a little while all in awkward silence, you finally dared to ask, “Where are we going?”
“I’ll show you the truth.”
From the way his lollipop clicked against his teeth, you could only sense Jaehyun’s anxiety, and you wondered what got him so worked up even though he had won the race. You could only think of one reason. Perhaps, today was the day.
“Does it have something to do with what happened back then?”
“Yes.”
“Did I say something wrong earlier?”
Immediately, the clicking noises stopped, but he gripped the steering wheel even tighter. “You’ve gotten everything wrong.”
Your stomach dropped and you suddenly felt so nauseous. “Jaehyun… what was wrong about it?”
He was visibly upset now. “How can you say all these things about me?”
“These.. things? What did I say that was wrong? I don’t understand. I meant every word and I don’t care whether you heard them or not, because they are the truth.”
“You don’t know the truth.” He added, “Yet.”
“Even if… There was nothing wrong with what I said. You don’t need them to win, you don’t need spectators and betters. You only need yourself and your team. Everything else doesn’t matter.”
He didn’t reply, but kept his eyes fixated on the street in front of him. Not much talking, but many kilometers later, you suddenly came to a halt in a narrow street under a light post in a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. To your left and right were single family houses and nobody was in your field of vision at this ungodly hour.
“Is this…?”
He took the lollipop out of his mouth and inhaled deeply. “This is where it happened.”
“Oh. Jaehyun…” You had been prepared to be taken here, but now that you were actually at the location, you didn’t know what to say.
“This is the spot where I collided with a pedestrian.” Even though he didn’t stutter or pause, you still realized how much mental strength it had taken him to not only bring you here, but to also speak about the incident - probably for the first time ever since it had happened. “He didn’t die on the spot. He survived, actually. That much, I know after I asked around in the hospital. I don’t know who he was, where he was going, whether he had family or other people who cared. I just called for an ambulance, drove my car away and remained hidden until they arrived. Then, I fled. This is the truth.”
You couldn’t deny that you were relieved he didn’t do a hit and run. You were also relieved that nobody had died and that the truth behind the accident was something that wouldn’t shake your friendship to the core. Of course it was bad, and he knew it himself. He’d always known and deeply regretted it, every single day. You saw it clearly now.
“I believe you.”
In moments of panic, humans were indeed most likely to do things they were not proud of, things totally wrong they wished to change later if only they could travel back in time. Things, they would have handled differently if they hadn’t panicked or were too scared. Jaehyun wasn’t an exception, although the baggage he had to carry was heavier than most else’s.
Humans were not perfect. For him, it all started with his not so perfect father and the not so perfect life he was living, leading him to do not so perfect things to save what was still salvageable.
“For one hot minute,” Jaehyun continued, “I really thought about leaving him there and fleeing as fast as possible. I couldn’t go to jail like my father and leave my mom and sister all to themselves, dropping them entirely too. I couldn’t get caught, so I did my best to prevent this.” He laughed, bitterly. “After all, I am what people think of me. So your words mean nothing.”
“My words mean nothing?” It hurt. “It’s easy to tell someone how to behave when the incident has already taken place. But at the end of the day, we can never be sure how we, ourselves, would have reacted or what we would have thought at that moment. You thought about your mom and sister, but you thought about the accident victim too. You wanted to do the best for both. So you reacted accordingly to what was best in your mind.”
“Still, I’m not the person you painted me to be. I nearly killed someone in a race. And you know why? Because I thought taking a shortcut through a neighborhood would make me win the race back then. It’s not forbidden, but this is the reason we racers usually never do that.”
That was why he had been so reluctant to go through your neighborhood at your very first accidental race together. And he still wouldn’t, no matter how much he trusted you. What had happened back then was still sitting deep within him - justifiably.
“I am running illegal races with you,” you started. “I have always known that you wouldn’t work with the law. And I am neither! So what does that make us?”
He sank his head and placed his hands on his lap. “You speak so highly of me, but in reality, I am a very bad person.”
“You’ve introduced me to your sister and mother, Jaehyun. If this is where a bad person grows up, then the entire world is rotten and beyond the point of saving. But people like you give me hope.”
“Why would a person like me give you hope?”
“Because, despite your situation, you still have so much love inside of you that expresses itself in so many forms. That’s why you’re loved too, by many people.”
Silence engulfed you, and you thought that Jaehyun would drive away after sometime again, but he didn’t, so you accompanied him in this quietness as long as it helped him process the past.
“You know why I wanted to take this shortcut?” he eventually spoke up quietly, and you shook your head. “Because I wanted to end the race abruptly and rush home… That night, my sister got very sick and my mom wasn’t home. I already announced that I would drop out before it happened.”
That was something the newspapers and no one else had ever mentioned. Of course, people always focus on sensational facts. It was easier to tell a story and transfer emotions when the main feeling an article would lure out was hate against someone.
It still had been a crime, this was a fact. And he could still go to jail for that. But you believed that the man who cared about his family so much and who was able to care about strangers too, was still very much haunted by his past, far more than he wanted to let slip through his facade.
If he hadn’t had a family to take care of, things would be entirely different. But he trusted you enough now to tell you all this and not fear that you would go behind his back.
My girl… you remembered. Had he truly meant it? Had you proven to him your undeniable loyalty just earlier?
“Jaehyun…”
Slowly, your hand wandered to his lap on top of his. Against your expectations, he grabbed yours and squeezed it tightly.
____
When Jaehyun wanted to drop you off at your building much later, the tension between you was still palpable, and you didn’t know how to make it vanish.
Perhaps, only time was needed - for him to believe that nothing had changed between you, and for you to settle with the fact that the guy who caused your heart to jump, just only a little bit, had done something grave in the past that you had to work through as well. After all, it still had been a crime.
“Jaehyun…” You wanted to end the night on a positive note, but he didn’t let you finish the sentence.
“Our ways will part here and now.”
You thought you had misheard. “Pardon?”
“I can’t demand a goody two-shoes like you to help a criminal like me,” he said coldly and stiffened in his seat. “And I surely won’t help a goody two-shoes like you write about my criminal record anymore now that the truth was inevitable to come forward with. So it ends here. Now.”
You knew where this rooted from: doubt and guilt. But during your entire career path, you had dealt with a lot of people who suddenly changed their minds on a topic or got cold feet.
“That won’t happen, Jaehyun,” you claimed. “You don’t have another navigator as good as me, no one and nothing can come close to the connection that you and I have.”
“It’ll be fine,” he obliged. “Now, go.”
“No,” you refused. “I will stay.”
“I SAID GO!”
“AND I SAID I WILL STAY!”
“Gosh!” he yelled. “Why can’t you be obedient for once towards me and leave before I hurt you too?!”
You both froze when it dawned on you what he had just said. You almost didn’t dare, yet you had to make sure that what he had said was indeed real.
“You’re afraid to hurt me?”
“I deceive my mom when it comes down to my activities and my studies. If she ever finds out, she’ll be hurt. I hurt my sister by not always being there for her whenever she needs me. I hurt my team for expecting them to be there for me although they have their own struggles. And I hurt you, because I cannot be the person you expect me to be. I only hurt the people I love.”
You took a deep breather and waited a few heartbeats in case Jaehyun wanted to chase you away again. But he didn’t. He just sat there in the driver’s seat, shoulders slumped, bangs messily falling into his eyes and the lollipop stick not moving a bit.
“You want to protect your overworked mom from more worries, you want to provide a good future for your sister, and you split the win evenly among the team for them to help their families too. If I don’t expect a friend to be exactly like this, then what else?” you confessed.
But Jaehyun didn’t like this answer, it was written all over his face. You were scared that you had said something wrong.
“Friends?” he suddenly croaked.
“Yeah, friends,” you repeated slowly. “Aren’t we… friends?”
You had seen him as your friend all along, though one who made your cheeks warm when he called you “my girl” and your heart swell when he touched you. But now, it hurt you that he had never felt even the slightest of the same connection. Fair enough, everyone needed their own space, and with Jaehyun’s past, it was his own right to decide whether to ever make friends again.
You had just hoped…
Cherry.
That was the taste of Jaehyun’s lollipop, he never chose another flavor.
Though, it tasted different from his own lips than from the candy directly.
You were asking yourself how this sweet taste could calm him down when all it did to you at this moment was making your heart race and nearly jump out of your chest. Perhaps, because this time, you tasted the lollipop’s sweetness on his tongue rather than in your own mouth, and he made sure that you experienced every taste bud this flavor had to offer.
Lollipops were very sweet already, and although Jaehyun was a fast and restless street racer, his kisses were much sweeter than candy. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected him to possess this side, but now that you thought about it, the signs had already been there whenever you observed him eating the candy.
Jaehyun’s fingers curled on your back when you motioned forward, away from your seat and more into his welcoming hug. The dashboard between you hindered you from embracing fully, causing you both to giggle at some point, but you continued kissing with your arms slung around his neck, for very long even after the cherry taste had vanished.
You weren’t hurt anymore over the fact that Jaehyun didn’t see you as his friend. You had never been friends. You had always been more than that.
____
Jaehyun’s victim had been a 45-year-old party chairman - that much you had found out through your connection to different journalists and a few demanding calls. The fact that after the incident, only silence followed and no details were revealed, not even about the gender and the age of the victim, had gotten your alarm bells ringing. And now you knew why.
A famous politician involved in a street racing accident, but no one had mentioned his name? Something was not right with this story, you didn’t need to be a professional to recognize this.
“I need his record,” you then said at the hospital’s reception.
Your editor-in-chief had given you this employee’s contact, assuring you she was more lenient in data protection when she saw the right amount of money. And your boss had been very happy to pay her the requested amount the moment you told him what you were after.
“This is exactly the kind of story I was looking for,” he had complimented you. “Good job. Now, go after it.”
You had left the building right away, making your way to the hospital the chairman had been admitted to after the accident.
“Here is a copy of his record,” the woman at the reception whispered to you. “All is well, he got out after two weeks. There is one interesting thing though… but look for yourself.”
“Thank you.”
You took the papers, and too excited to drive all the way back to the office, you looked through them right then and there after having found a quiet spot in the waiting room.
There was nothing abnormal at first for a car accident. It had left him with deep grazes, a dislocated arm, two broken ribs and a concussion. It sounded quite bad, but very mild for the fact that a car had hit him, and not at all life-threatening. So the accident had not been that severe as Jaehyun had made out to be in his panic.
Perhaps, that was the reason the party chairman had never been named in the news. But on the other hand… newspapers got to write articles about important politicians all the time, and just this once, his name had been left out? This didn’t sound like something a newspaper would do under these circumstances.
The more important the name, the more clicks and sales the news generated. They must have been bribed to keep his name entirely out of all news revolving around this incident. You were wondering yourself why. Given all facts, no matter how macabre it sounded, this kind of accident would even play into the party’s hands.
A very important politician who got hit by a street racer and admitted to the hospital with fractures? It would even be a headliner with the conclusion to go harder after such illegal activities.
Everything just doesn’t sound right. Something was being kept buried that no one should know about and could possibly threaten the party’s reputation. That much, you were already sure of.
… but what could it be?
You gasped when your eyes passed the passage that gave you a single answer to all your questions.
Patient was heavily intoxicated.
Whether it were drugs or alcohol, you didn’t know. But you were going to find out soon as you returned back to the office and made a call to the police.
____
“How high is the possibility that this program is actually a virus?” you asked and looked over Yuta’s shoulder who was currently typing something into his laptop.
“Very low, but it’s still new, so we never know what will happen anyway,” Taeyong answered on his friend’s behalf and stretched out on Yuta’s bed in whose home you had all gathered today. “Can’t you detect it if it’s one?”
“What do you think I’m currently trying to do here?” Yuta rolled his eyes. “I’m a programming student, not a wizard.”
“Okay, sorry? Jeez.”
“Doyoung said that with this program, you will also get the coordinates of all cars in your ten kilometer radius that use a GPS, so you can plan the route and the car’s speed even more predictively,” Yuta explained instead. “I’m still trying to figure out how.”
“The race is in two weeks. You should hurry.”
“I know, Taeyong. You think these last weeks I’ve only been sitting around?” Yuta gave his friend a scowl. “If it’s a new program, even used before its beta phase, it’s not so easy.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Okay, enough guys!” you interrupted their bickering. “Taeyong let Yuta work and peace and rather go through the city's plan for next week with me to mark all new construction sites, okay?”
In unison, they both said, “Fine.”
Taeyong turned to you while you started your own laptop to leave Yuta alone, and Jaehyun and Johnny were currently outside to maintain his car. You felt so included like never before in your life.
You’ve always said you didn’t grow up with a family. But sometimes, a family wasn’t something that you necessarily grew up with. Family also didn’t need to be bonded by blood. Sometimes, you lost family along the way, sometimes you gained one. And everyone would always welcome you into their family.
In your case, you gained a family in the form of a strong friendship that you had never experienced before in your life. Sitting here, analyzing maps with Taeyong while Yuta was silently typing away and Johnny and Jaehyun would soon come upstairs to talk about the next race after which you would all order food and then watch a movie together…
This was your own definition of family. This feeling of being cared for, trusted and loved without expecting anything in return, so much that it almost felt like your heart was going to burst. Your team was your family.
“I want to show you a place,” Jaehyun said when you were sitting in his car when all the work was done later that evening.
“Don’t you need to go home as usual?”
“My sister is having a sleepover at a friend’s house.” He smiled. “So I think my mom will enjoy a little more alone time to rest better.”
“Okay, then let’s go!”
Jaehyun stopped the car only much later after you had driven up a mound with a path so narrow, you feared the vehicle wouldn’t make it despite all its tuning. But against your expectations, you arrived at the top in that very same car, and the view over the entire city was splendid.
“I didn’t know such a place existed!” you called out and ran around the viewing place. “Jaehyun, I can see the entire city, and we’re not even on a mountain!”
“Do you like it?” he asked, following suit.
“I love it!”
“And I-”
“Hm?” You turned around to him with the biggest smile on your face. “What is it?”
He shook his head with a soft look on his face. “Nothing.” Then, he stepped close to you and hugged you from behind. “I’m happy you love it. It’s my favorite place. After the incident with my father happened, my sister and I came here a lot, because it made us forget reality for quite a while.”
“Thank you for sharing this special place with me.” You felt him kissing the nape of your neck and you shuddered pleasantly. “It really means a lot.”
The true meaning of it was revealed to you by him right after, “I spent most of the time here before my comeback. I wanted to give up on racing entirely. One night, I didn’t come home and my sister went to look for me which took her all night. I lost track of time, and I probably felt so ashamed returning to my family. When My sister found me here at the early hours of dawn, looking like a ghost and having cried all the way to this place, I knew that I had to do everything to protect my family. That’s when I dropped out of university and decided to race again. One day, I don’t want to do this anymore. One day, I’ll be free.”
You loosened yourself from his hug, shifted around and embraced him now from the front, body to body. “You’ll be one day, Jaehyun.” He gently brushed his fingers through your hair. “One day, you can provide your family the life they deserve and can finally live the one you have dreamed about as well.”
“But do I deserve it after everything that I’ve done?” He sounded full of doubts. “I’m not sure.”
You responded, quite confidently, “You do.”
“Actually,” Jaehyun changed the topic, “This car was my dad’s. He owned two, a big, elegant one to show off at work, and this one for his free time. It’s the only thing that was left, because it was registered to my mom’s name before I changed it to mine.”
You were curious about one topic. “Why did you never sell it? You only started racing after his arrest, right? Why have you never exchanged it for money?”
“I thought about it, a lot, in fact,” he clarified. “Maintaining a car is a very expensive hobby, after all. Apart from the fact that races became my source of income as it makes money fast and much, I think a part of me can’t also fully let go of my father.” He chuckled, but rather bitter and full of regret. “Isn’t it ironic? I think of it like my father repaying the debts he caused. It's satisfying.”
A wicked thought, but you liked the way he thought about it.
“Hey,” you then said, grinning, “do you want to get back at him once more?”
____
“Close your mouth and suck.”
This time, Jaehyun didn’t mean the lollipop he had put into your mouth, but something entirely else.
Luckily, the front seats of his car were able to be raised back all the way, so he was now lying almost flat on his back, his hands gently but determinedly having guided your head to his loin while you were sitting between his angled legs. You did as you had been told and sucked him off like a lollipop.
Your arms were propped up against the edges of the seat with your head bobbing up and down in a regular rhythm, but your tongue did the most work whenever you paused your neck movements just to indulge him with your proficiency.
“Jesus Christ,” Jaehyun cursed and put his forearm over his face so that his facial expressions would be hidden from you. It was like he didn’t want you to know how much control you had over him, but this was for no avail anyway as his swearing gave it all away, “No fucking way…”
It was certainly not your first time sucking him off, so it wasn’t like you didn’t know what he looked like enjoying this kind of pleasure. You found it rather cute how he still thought he could hide this side of him from you.
Your tongue rolled over the tip of his dick, leaving a trace of saliva where it passed. Making sure you covered every angle with your motions, you halted them when you opened your mouth entirely and slowly took in the majority of his length until you felt like you couldn’t do more.
Jaehyun let out a groan that made you smile inwardly, and it only got louder when you let him pass by your lips, but didn’t let him slip out entirely. Instead, you sucked on the tip like the cherry lollipop he often offered you.
You made sure to alternate between sucking and taking him into your mouth almost entirely, and when your left hand wandered to his warm thigh, you felt how tense he had become due to the arousal you made him feel. Instead of letting your hand go back though, Jaehyun stretched out his own to grab your fingers and intertwined them.
His nails dug into your skin and his thighs became very tense, closing around the sides of your face when his release was near. He came in a long spur directly into your mouth, and you swallowed it all down, including cleaning him up - with your tongue of course.
Jaehyun reached out to your face while you were licking over your lips, and you smiled at each other before his own gradually grew more wicked.
“You know what?”
“What?” You wiped with the back of your hand over your lips.
“I also never had sex in this car. Wanna change that?”
He didn’t need to ask twice.
Although it was still very narrow in the vehicle, Jaehyun had swiftly managed to change your positions so that you were now lying underneath him and he was kneeling in front of you in a crouched position. You giggled amusedly when you watched him taking off his shirt as he tried to do so without bumping into anything, but this had been an impossible task from the very beginning. Luckily, you had undressed yourself before already, so that he didn’t need to take care of that part too.
You assumed Jaehyun still needed a bit of time until he could go in fully again, but what would come before that, you had never expected. Your fingers were desperately gripping onto the door handle while your other hand was holding onto the seat belt that slowly dug into your flesh. But this slight pain passed by you almost unnoticeably when another feeling had taken control over your entire body and mind already.
You had already experienced how skillful Jaehyun was with his tongue whenever you kissed, which was long before indicated by the way he played with lollipops in his mouth. Of course he would put this skill into use elsewhere too.
But that he would be this good… You shuddered again when you came the second time in the span of a few minutes after Jaehyun had draped his hot, wet tongue all along your folds, causing your back to lift off from the seat and moaning his name over and over again.
And even then, he didn’t stop. He came to face you after cleaning off his mouth, and kissed you for a long time until you had entirely calmed down before he crawled back to his original position and squeezed his fingers into your bum again to bring it closer to his face.
With the tip of his tongue, he searched for the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you indicated that he had found it when you let out a light squeal. His lips enclosed the bud and you felt all your blood vanishing from your face when he started sucking on it. Oh god, you thought to yourself, you were surely going to pass out.
But he didn’t let you cum this time. Before you released, Jaehyun stopped and flipped you onto your stomach as swiftly as the narrow space allowed him to. Instinctively, you had already brought your bum up to give him better access, and you bit down into the flesh of your arm on which you had your chin rested when you felt him sliding into you from behind in one long motion.
The sound of his groin slapping against your cheeks mixed with your moans filled the car, and luckily, you had been the only ones on this view point at such a later hour. You had only had sex with Jaehyun once in your home, and you had never defined what that was between you. Maybe, you were too dense to speak it out and too naive to actually believe it, but you loved him.
Ironically, you only realized that when you decided to change positions and Jaehyun was constantly bumping his head on the ceiling and you got on top. You were settled on his hips, his length buried deep inside you, but you didn’t move yet.
You let your fingertips wander over his chest, taking your time, and he suddenly grabbed them, led them to his mouth and kissed the tips. When you gazes locked, you were sure.
Yes, you loved him. With all his flaws, his burdens and his past. Perhaps, you had never experienced this kind of love, which was why you had always been reluctant and unsure, but if this wasn’t love, you didn’t know what was. You just hoped that at one point, he would come to feel this way about you too.
“What is it?” he asked with worry when you made no intention of continuing. “Is something wrong? You want to stop?”
But you shook your head. “It’s just… I don’t want this moment to pass.”
Even in the semi-darkness, you encountered Jaehyun’s smile. “I feel the same way.”
Slowly, you raised your hips and slowly came back down to his groin. Jaehyun tried very hard to remain in eye contact with you, but when you did that several times more, he lost his composure again. You propped your hands up against his hard chest and picked up your pace, slamming onto him over and over again in a fast pace.
When you ran out of breath, you alternated the fast motions with sitting on his lap and just letting your hips rotate in different directions and forms, which very much pleased Jaehyun as well by the way he didn’t stop moaning at this part as well.
With time though, your stamina gave in, you slumped over him, eventually let yourself fall onto his chest, because you were too exhausted to go on anymore.
“Want me to finish?” he asked and stroked your shoulder to which you could only give a slight nod.
He kept you locked to his hips with his hands holding onto your sides very tightly and started thrusting upwards. You felt like he had knocked all the air out of your lungs, that was much much power he still possessed. Luckily, for you, you didn’t need to do anything anymore.
He was holding you as you laid on top of him, biting into his shoulder as he thrusted in and out of you with much force, which you really liked. Your thighs tensed around his sides and you whimpered gibberish into his ear, so close to cumming again.
Jaehyun let you release yourself first with a suppressed scream that partly still found a way to escape your lips, and your entire body shook as you felt your high flooding to every fiber of your body. He himself didn’t take much longer and you held him while he experienced his own orgasm, pressing you so close to him as though he was afraid of being parted from you ever again.
When you were getting dressed, he suddenly dropped, “I could get used to it.”
“Doing nasty things in your dad’s old car?” you joked.
But his expression remained serious. “No.”
You didn’t know what he meant.
____
You had written two different versions of Jaehyun’s story.
The first was the one he had read himself and approved of. There were only a few details and personal information sprinkled in here and there about the Falcon while you were trying to fill the emotional gaps with anecdotes and quotes from the other team members under an alias that they were willing to share. You were even successful in interviewing a few spectators and it would include the outcome of the race.
Overall, the less personal and official version gave a good overview over this illegal sport, and you were truly satisfied with this tame version. It was sufficient enough, intriguing enough and informative as well as emotional enough. At other magazines, the story would have made the headlines, you were sure of that. But for the magazine you worked for, enough was only good enough. You had to be better than enough, you had to exceed.
With this version of the Falcon’s story, you certainly weren’t. It wasn’t headline-material like your editor-in-chief expected after all the work you had put into it.
So you had written another version of this story.
One in which you talked about the Falcon’s past, his family, what had really happened back then before his career arose again and the relationships between you all. Yes, even between the two of you. And you had even come forward with the truth about the politician after hard research. This version of the story was personal and vulnerable, and it was the truth.
Jaehyun had gotten to read it as the first and only one.
“It wasn’t.. entirely my fault?” he had asked in disbelief when you gave him the story to read.
You had wanted to wait until you had gotten your facts straight, had enough proof, and then came over to his house to lay it out all in front of him. First, you were unsure whether he would like it, to have had you dig deep into his past.
But if he came to hate you and started to hate himself less instead, then it would have been worth it nonetheless. From one moment to the other though, you clearly saw in his eyes how much of a burden got lifted off his shoulder. Sure, the fact that the politician had been intoxicated didn’t change the fact that Jaehyun was way over the tempo limit, but he hadn’t been the only one at fault.
The politician had been intoxicated with drugs to the point of not being able to walk properly and had remained in the middle of the street, too far gone to think and speak straightly when Jaehyun had passed by.
“No, it wasn’t entirely your fault,” you assured him.
And with that certainty, you both decided to move past this as this case - to both parties luck, fortunately - had long been decided to be buried under the rug anyway.
Jaehyun didn’t come to hate you, you felt it in the way he hugged you close and never seemed to let you go after this revelation. He was, in fact, utterly grateful that you had never let go of this topic.
It was a step closer to him being free. From the very beginning, you knew which version you would publish after the race against the Cheetah. You had begged your boss to postpone the release for another month for you to include this race, and he had happily agreed - even to hold off the senior editor position.
____
“Are you nervous?”
You looked at Taeyong who took the seat next to you. Somehow, you weren’t nervous at all, even though tonight was Jaehyun’s big race against the Cheetah with so much money involved unlike ever before.
Later, you would also finish up the story with the outcome of the race and send it over still this night for the entire country to read. Perhaps, you were more nervous about this than the competition itself since you fully trusted your gained skills and Jaehyun himself. You wouldn’t treat this other than all the races before.
“I’m cool so far,” you said. “I just don’t know if it’s good or bad.”
“I hope it’s good. Jaehyun is probably more nervous than he lets slip.”
“I can hear you.” It was Jaehyun’s voice through your headsets.
“Good!” Taeyong exclaimed. “This wasn’t supposed to be a secret.”
You giggled just in the moment Yuta came over to you and put a usb on your desk. Just a few days before, you both had figured out how the new navigation system worked.
“Just plug it in and do as I told you.”
You nodded and reached for the stick. There were only ten minutes remaining. You had never seen this many people wanting to watch a race before and the tension was sizzling, not only between the teams, but between the spectators too. As far as you had heard, the bets were almost equally split as though no one could decide who would win in their eyes. The Cheetah’s team was in another building, and you wondered whether they were still nervous with the amount of times they had already won so war.
“Hey,” you suddenly heard Jaehyun through the headphones.
“Yes?”
Apparently, he had muted himself for Taeyong since he didn’t respond, but typed something into the computer and then turned around to talk to Johnny and Yuta.
“If something happens,” Jaehyun spoke, “no matter what, will you be with me until the end?”
“Of course.”
“No, I mean it.”
You frowned. “Mean what?”
He sighed deeply as if he was struggling inwardly trying to find the right words. “Will you be with me… until the end?”
“Of course!” you replied happily.
“No! I mean... shit.”
What did he want? “I don’t get it.”
“I love you.”
You were stunned.
It was the first time he had said this to you. The first time someone had said this to you. For how long had he been feeling this way already? Was there a chance he’d been in love with you for as long as you loved him too? You were long lost for words and before you could even inhale to say something back, Taeyong was by your side again.
“You guys ready?”
“Yes,” Jaehyun answered quickly as though nothing had ever happened.
“Then get ready.”
____
The moment the race started, you got to witness with your own eyes why the Cheetah was called the Cheetah. Jaehyun was already a remarkable racer, but his rival was immaculate.
You wouldn’t be Jaehyun’s navigator though if you hadn’t grown together throughout the past weeks. You were his additional eyes, ears and mind. Whatever he lacked or hadn't perfected, you carried out together, making him even stronger so that as of right now, he could easily take it on the Cheetah. You were going to win, that was how much trust you had in you both.
Midway through the race though, which was a real head-to-head contest that had eventually shaken off a part of your tranquility and replaced it with a bit of nervousness because of a few instances from which you quickly recovered nonetheless, Jaehyun started to panic.
“Shit, we didn’t see this coming!”
He complained about a construction site that had not been on your screen, but only popped up now. As of this instance, he was in advance, being in front of the Cheetah. Now, it was on you for how long he could hold that position.
“Don’t worry,” you tried to calm Jaehyun down while your heart raced almost as fast as the car itself right now. “I got you.”
“Why didn’t the new navigation system that Yuta gave you see it coming?” It sounded almost like an accusation and Taeyong shot a meaningful look at you from the side. “There are construction vehicles all around it!”
“Hey.” You didn’t raise your voice, you just wanted Jaehyun to snap out of his mental deadlock since he was too into it. “Stay calm.”
Sometimes, this happened. And if he was too panicked, he’d lose focus and make mistakes. That was why you were here. By now, you knew how to handle them and not let him irritate you or vice versa.
“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun had instant regrets. “I just want to win, I need to win.”
“I know. But to win, you have to trust me.”
You could only imagine his fingers gripping onto the steering wheel like his life depended on it, the knuckles first turning red, then white.
“I can’t lose,” he breathed and repeated like a mantra, “I can’t lose.”
On the screen, you perceived that he wasn’t as fast and sharp with his driving anymore, the Cheetah drawing closer to erase the remaining meters between the two cars. The vehicles appeared on the screen as dots on a map, the two that represented the racing cars now almost melting into one. Your entire team had gathered around you and were listening to you speak, only you and Taeyong knowing the details of your driver’s panic so far.
“You won’t lose, because I’m here with you, Jaehyun,” you assured him slowly, aware that in such kind of situations, you had to pretend to be calm to keep the driver at peace, even though you were tense as hell too. “It’s me, okay? I love you too, and I will be with you until the end. I know the meaning of this now, and of course I will.”
Silence - not only on the other side of the headset, but also in the hall among your team.
“Please say something,” you addressed to Jaehyun while ignoring all the other members’ grins. “This is kind of really embarrassing now.”
“I-I… I can’t,” he stuttered. “I’m… too happy.”
You smiled. Even though you were only connected via voice and there were other people standing behind you, you felt more connected to Jaehyun like never before.
“Are you ready to win this game with me now?” you asked him.
You felt his confident grin in every fiber of your body, it had given him the boost he needed. "Absolutely."
“Hey, we’re here too!” Johnny interrupted you. “What about us?”
“Get lost.” Jaehyun returned back to his grumble, but everyone knew that he didn’t mean it this way.
When you all broke out into a laughter together that lifted off the tension, even just a little bit, you finally felt like you had long reached the finish line. Not in terms of the race, but in terms of other things.
Trust, friendship and even love.
Because even if you had been among them only for a few weeks, you couldn’t imagine a better feeling than the warmth they caused you to experience right now with Johnny putting his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture, Taeyong smiling at you as he pointed at something on the screen, and Yuta rolling his eyes, seemingly not minding, but silently enjoying the entire situation.
This was it. This was your family. There was no deeper connection than you had with your team. You were going to win.
____
And you did.
Jaehyun crossed the finish line first.
Jaehyun won against the Cheetah.
Jaehyun was crowned King of the Streets.
…
But he didn’t last on the throne for long.
Only eight hours.
____
“King of the Streets”
… was the headline of your story that you finished late at night and sent over to your editor-in-chief so that it could still be printed for next month’s issue with the intention to be published the morning after.
____
“Congratulations.”
“Pardon?”
You were sitting in your boss’ office, the same chair, the same desk, the same window and the same view in sight. A few weeks ago, this had meant everything to you. You had wanted this, so badly, and you would have done everything for it. Now, it meant nothing anymore.
You hadn’t seen the new issue yet, that was not why you had come here. In your hands, you were holding a notice, but it had got nothing to do with what you had handed in the night before.
“‘King of the Streets’? I couldn’t have thought of a better title.” Your boss the issue in front of your eyes, but you rarely paid attention to it. “It’s great that you went with the way of leaving out the guy’s real name and even the politician’s name. Honestly, if I didn’t know who it was myself, I wouldn’t be able to guess. Now, people will get invested and do some digging. Congratulations on your promotion to senior editor!”
“Pardon?” you repeated.
You hadn’t written about the politician as agreed on. In fact, you had left out the entire storyline about the incident. That was why you had been so sure the story wouldn’t make headlines, and in your hands you were actually holding your resignation notice. You didn’t want to become senior editor. You wanted to quit.
With trembling hands, you reached out to the newest issue and looked at the headline. Indeed, this was your title “King of the Streets” with a stock photo that showed cars by night in front of a skyline. Your breath shortened when you searched for the right page and you felt like the air was being cut in your lungs when you stumbled over the story and started reading.
This was not your article. At least not the one that had been supposed to get published. It was the one only Jaehyun had gotten to read earlier, his very own, personal version. You felt sick in your stomach. How was this possible? Had you been hacked? Had someone secretly gotten access to your laptop?
“I… I sent you this?” Your voice shook with each syllable.
The editor-in-chief nodded. “Only a few minutes before the boring, second one. Of course I went with the first one. Who wouldn’t?”
“I didn’t send you this!” you nearly screamed. “How could you have published this?!”’
“Please calm down, Miss. This was sent from your very own email.”
“Show me,” you demanded and smacked the issue back on the desk. “Show me the mail!”
He sighed deeply and murmured something about short term memory, but you didn’t care much about his shenanigans anymore. Either way, today was the last day you’d ever interact. You’d just leave, what could he possibly do about it?
When your ex-boss shifted the desktop into your direction, you directly noticed, “This is not my work mail.”
It was your usual mailing name from a random provider, but neither your work mail address or your private one. Everything was similar except for the domain, indicating that someone had made this up on purpose.
“Yes, but I figured you might be using another mail, because you weren’t at home or didn’t have access. It was the big competition, so it was possible, right? Aside from that, this is your topic and writing style, even signed with your name. How could I have doubted it? I mean… this is your story after all, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
There was nothing you could say to defend yourself in front of him. You had written this all yourself, and the fact that it had gotten leaked wasn’t his problem. But someone else’s…
“I have to go,” you said.
“Well, when will you come back? We have to talk about your new position’s details.”
You laughed bitterly and didn’t forget to drop the letter on his desk. “I won’t come back.”
You didn’t care about your belongings. You just grabbed your bag, jacket and laptop and left the office without saying goodbye to anyone. The only thing on your mind right now was that you had to talk to Jaehyun and explain everything to him.
The more surprised you were to find him already sitting in the lobby. You were stunned, but as you continued your movements towards him, Jaehyun looked up, and your blood froze. He wore the biggest scowl on his face, and hidden behind it was the one emotion that hurt you the most: disappointment.
“Jaeh-”
“How could you?!” he yelled and arose from the coach, but he didn’t approach you. “I trusted you!”
You were assured it wasn’t because he was afraid he'd lose himself. He just couldn’t look you in the eyes as disappointment came forward more and more, revealing his true feelings. He couldn’t keep the angry facade up for much longer upon meeting you, the person he loved. But you still saw. Jaehyun was utterly hurt, and it was caused by this very same person.
You didn’t need to explain yourself, it wouldn’t change anything. You had betrayed and disappointed him like his father had, and there was no excuse for it. His entire past and deepest conflits had just been revealed to the country, and even though it wasn’t you who had published the story, you were the one who had written it.
Telling Jaehyun that it hadn’t been sent in by you wouldn’t change a single thing. The deed had already been done and there was no going back. You were just another person he had entirely lost faith and trust in, and there was no way for it to be restored. At least not right now, not immediately.
Jaehyun clenched his fists and pressed through gritted teeth, “You promised to me, I trusted you.”
Every syllable he directed at you pierced directly through your heart. You shouldn’t have written anything in the first place, it should have just stayed between the two of you. What had you thought while writing all of this? That you were doing him a favor? For what? No, it wouldn’t change anything, and it wouldn’t make him less sad and disappointed if he knew that you weren’t the person who had published it.
So you simply said, “I’m sorry, I should have never written this story.”
“I’ve always known you journalists were selfish bastards after all,” he hissed.
No heartbreak that you had ever experienced before came close to what you were feeling right now. At this point, you thought that you had been left by so many people in your life that you would need to entirely shut down.
Jaehyun didn’t speak it out, but you certainly sensed that he was going to leave you now, too. This was what you got for always being so nosy, for wanting so much and giving everything for it. In the end, when you reached your aim, everything didn’t matter when you lost every person that meant the world to you along the way.
“Get lost! Keep out of my sight and don’t ever dare talking to me again!”
When Jaehyun turned around without looking at you one more time, it felt like you were dying. So many people had walked out of your life already, and the man you loved the most being one of them hadn’t been in your book before. But now, it was very much real. It felt hurtfully real.
“Miss, are you okay?” the receptionist asked when she was approaching you.
You hadn’t noticed how your notebook had fallen on the floor, paper flying around everywhere. You were still looking after Jaehyun, petrified, while the young woman started to collect the sheets by your feet, but you barely noticed her. How was one to function, when they had lost what they loved the most?
Not much later, the receptionist was holding your arm after you had broken down crying in the middle of all your belongings. There was no one else anymore who could have emotionally supported you anyway, so who did it now was irrelevant to you.It didn’t help one bit though.
____
“Jiyeong?”
“Can I come in?”
It had been two weeks since Jaehyun had walked out of your life and you quit your job. Every minute of the day, you were hoping that he would come by to talk it all out. Not once had you hoped that his sister would do so instead of him.
“Sure.”
When she took off her shoes, walked past your small entrance and into your room, her eyes widened. “Why the many moving boxes? Are you…”
“I’ll be going away.”
“Where to?”
You smiled, but remained quiet, and Jiyeong immediately understood.
You didn’t want her to know and no one else either. Not because you were afraid that she or someone else would tell anyone, but because telling anyone at all would open the possibility of getting haunted by your past again. And this time, you just really wanted a clean cut.
“When are you leaving?” she asked instead, not even mildly offended to your relief.
“Next week.”
“I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you, Jiyeong. I really appreciate that.”
“Please don’t say this so easily.” Her expression changed into a pained one. “You’ll hate me from now on.”
“Why would I possibly hate you?”
She didn’t reply immediately, but nervously stepped from one foot on the other. She barely dared to look into your eyes, kneading her fingers nervously. “Because it was me.”
You were confused. “What?”
Even a bit quieter, she confessed, “It was me who sent the story to your boss.”
You were lost for words and still in hope you had heard wrong. “You sent the published story to my magazine that night?”
Slowly, Jiyeong nodded. “Yes. I found the story still open on my brother’s laptop when I went into his room to look for a charger. I couldn’t look past it, I really needed to read it. And it was so beautiful. My brother is just so deeply misunderstood, I was so relieved someone else saw it. So I wanted the entire country to know too.”
It was a lot for you to take in, and you still couldn’t believe this was real. “Did you create a fake mail account in my name and send it to my boss this way?”
“Yes. The mail from you with the article was still open, so it was easy to secure a similar address. I just acted on my personal intentions and disregarded your and my family’s feelings. I didn’t know what I would cause by doing that. I didn’t know I would not only get our mother worried, but hurt my brother and you too. I deeply apologize.”
“Jiyeong…”
“I thought,” she interrupted you, “I thought everyone would finally see my brother the way my mom, I, his friends and you see him. That he’s more than all that people paint him to be, and that the incident back then was different from everyone’s make up story. Never have I thought that I would not only ruin the lives of the people involved too, the least his or yours. I tried to change it up and make it as anonymous as possible, but I’m only writing in school, I don't have any real life experience, I’m still a child. I didn’t want all that, that was not supposed to happen! What was I thinking?!”
Her voice gradually grew louder and more upset, and when she hit the last sentence, she was close to tears.
You remembered the time when you were a teenager. There had been some grave mistakes you had made and many words you had said that you would want to have taken back immediately, but the deed had already been done and feelings had been hurt, including yours. Sometimes, the guilt gnawed on you like a parasite that never stopped being hungry.
You had never wanted to become a person who made someone else live with that feeling forever. In front of you just stood a teenage girl who had wanted to do the right thing and who just didn’t know what the right thing was. So you stretched out your arms and pulled her into an embrace. Jiyeon begged you over and over again to not hate her or her brother. You loved both of them dearly, how could you?
When she left after sharing a bottle of ice cream with you to soothe your both shaken up feelings, you also learned that Jaehyun had been informed about Jiyeong’s misconduct directly after he had come home the day the story was published - so two weeks ago.
This entire time, he knew. He had known all along and he never contacted you.
You hoped so badly that Jaehyun would still come. You were even still holding onto the slightest sliver of hope the day you moved away from Seoul, until the moment you closed your empty apartment door behind you.
But he never came.
It was just as you thought: It didn’t change anything, whether you or anyone else had sent in the story. The outcome would have always been the same.
So, if Jaehyun had decided to move on, then you would too.
Even though you had lived one of the best times of your life in that city, now it bearded nothing but a sorrowful past and broken dreams.
You wanted to move on, too.
____
2 years later
Moving out of a city didn’t simultaneously mean continuing on.
You had first needed to learn how to start life all over again.
It hadn’t been easy to begin again in Daejeon. It had taken quite a bit of time to find an affordable apartment, although the city was much less populated than the capital. It had even taken you much longer to find a job that fitted you more than the last one, and only recently had you settled with a new friend group.
Overall, life was going pretty well for you now.
Were it not for the fact that you still missed Jaehyun with every fiber of your heart.
After your published story, many newspapers had made follow up articles, even leaking the party chairman’s name. Of course he had then been fired from his position and the party would not make it to be one of those with the highest votes anymore.
Not a word was lost about the Falcon though. It was like he had never existed.
But you knew better.
Jaehyun had stopped street racing entirely and had enrolled back into university for his last year. He had taken the last race’s prize money to pay off the family’s debt - his entire team had left their amount to help him out this time, including you. This had allowed him to sell his car and start working part time in an electric shop.
It hadn’t been by far as much as he had earned as a racer, but they had made ends meet with honest work.
You were wholeheartedly happy for him when Taeyong had told you all this one day when you had met in Daejong a year ago.
“He misses you very much too,” he had said, and you had smiled lightly.
“I thought he hated me.”
“Did you forget what he said during his last race?”
That he loved you.
“I will never forget.”
Jaehyun had won the biggest race in his whole career, but he still wasn’t entirely free. Being crowned King of the Streets, having won a lot of money and becoming popular as well as getting your love - all that hadn’t set him free from his past.
“But now, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you had added, speaking to Taeyong.
He had wanted more time not only for, but also with his mom and sister. Being a good son and brother like his father could have never been.
Jaehyun couldn't put his life on hold to leave his family eventually, too. You had understood, so you had quietly accepted all this, letting him go and focus on the things he saw as important now. Where it had been racing and winning before, his priorities had entirely shifted.
If your love wasn’t part of this anymore but had made him realize this, then what more could you ask for?
By now, another year later, Jaehyun must have graduated from university already and his sister must be a sophomore in high school. Every now and then, you thought about them and prayed for their safety, but your life wasn’t on hold anymore.
“Miss, your interview partner is waiting in the lobby.”
“Okay, thank you.”
You took your notebook from your desk and walked out of your office. The room wasn’t as big as the one in your old company and the view was not as splendid, but you were editor-in-chief for the city's biggest magazine. You could write about things you really cared about like politics and things going on in town, nobody pressured you to cover topics that required you to do criminal things.
The company fitted your personality, your morals. It was perfect for you.
A week ago, you had gotten a request from someone who claimed to have a really good story for you. Even after telling the person via mail that your magazine didn’t take on this kind of sensational story, the person was being persistent, so you gave in and were open to hear what they had to say.
“Good morning, I-”
The last words got stuck in your throat and your breath caught simultaneously. You let your notebook nearly slip from your hands upon encountering your today’s interview partner.
“Good morning.”
He smiled the smile you had lured out of him only after a few weeks of knowing each other. In these two years, he hadn’t changed one bit. He looked more mature and admittedly also more relaxed, the scowl entirely gone. His clothes had changed into more sophisticated ones as he wore black dress pants and a white button up.
“Life’s been treating you well,” he added. “I’m happy for you.”
His deep, soft voice let you nearly melt again, but you were a professional, so you regained your composure real quick.
“I heard you have a really good story for me Mr. Jeong,” you smiled. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
____
Jaehyun wanted you to publish a story.
This time, with him and with his name written all over it.
“I don’t want to hide anymore, I don’t want to have secrets. I want to come clear, not only with myself, my family and friends, but also with everyone involved. I’ve already gathered permission from everyone, and even though it admittedly took me very long to reach this conclusion, I’m a hundred percent sure I want to do it. And most importantly, I want you to do it.”
It would be his personal story, from his own point of view where he would talk about his past, his father’s wrongdoings, his struggles and what he had been up to since his final race. He asked you to sell this story to your old company for a wider audience and for a follow up.
Legally, he weighed himself secure since he had talked to a few layers before making this decision. It was all for his conscience. If this helped Jaehyun finally move on entirely, then you would happily do it for him.
“Back then, during my last race, my navigator had never used the new system. I only found out much later.”
You paused your writing and looked up. You had settled yourselves in a conference room to work on this story without any interruptions. “Why did she never use it, Mr. Jeong?”
“She had so much faith and trust in our connection, she was sure she could do it without, that was how much she believed in me.”
You lowered your head and pretended to write, but out came only gibberish. Your heart was racing. You always fondly thought back to that time. “She must have been a real baddie,” you joked.
“She was.” The corners of Jaehyun’s lips curled upwards. “I don’t regret anything except for one thing.”
“Which is…?”
“Letting her go.”
You were asking yourself why you suddenly couldn’t see anymore as your vision was very blurry. When you wiped the back of your hand over your eyes, you realized that you had started crying, and the tears had stained the writing on your paper.
“I have one more question for you,” you only brought out.
“Yes?”
“Have you married yet, Mr. Jeong?”
The pause that followed almost tore you apart as you closed your eyes and prayed inwardly.
“I’ve been waiting for a special person to return to Seoul,” he nearly whispered. “When she didn’t, I went to search for her.”
You looked up to him, tears still burning on the brim, but somehow, you didn’t feel sad anymore. You felt more overwhelmed with this entire revelation that caused your heart to finally flutter again.
You had never stopped loving Jaehyun.
“And… what if that person doesn’t want to go back to Seoul?”
Jaehyun stretched out his hand and laid his palm against your cheek, wiping away your tears. It felt so familiar and warm, a feeling you had deeply missed. Even though there was still a respectful distance between you that had built up in the past two years, the connection was as deep and intense as ever.
It was at this moment that you realized Jaehyun had never stopped loving you too.
“Then, I’ll go wherever she goes.”
#jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#nct#nct 127#jaehyun smut#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun x you#nct smut#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct x you#nct 127 smut#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 x you#nct 127 x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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𝖼𝖼::⌗ -⌗𝖼𝖼:: ?? ⌗ -⌗
Top Secrets of Straight-A Students by Bullet Journals
Scrolling away from this post just proves you being an average student....go on scroll away you are doing good by decreasing competition. 🫶🏻😽
1.) They get to class early. Getting to class early gives you time to be prepared and ready to study. Review your notes from the day before, lay out all your supplies (notebook, water bottle, pens, etc). You can also ask the teacher any questions you had about the material.
2.) They get ahead. The second they get an assignment, no matter when it is due, they do it. This is so so helpful. Do NOT procrastinate. You just end up being exhausted and tired. It's not worth it. You might as well finish once you get it. Life will be so easy, believe me.
3.) They have an organized schedule. They figure out a schedule that works for them. They make sure to include time for extracurriculars, breaks, meal times, etc. Try to map out EVERY SINGLE MINUTE of your day.
4.) They prepare. They lay out their clothes for the next day, they finish their homework early, they even plan out what they will have for their meals for the next few weeks and what exercises theyt will be doing.
5.) They enjoy learning and want to learn. They aren't just there because they have to be. They have ajust there because they have to be. They have a strong desire to learn. When you want to learn (even if you fake it) you usually do better on exams and papers.
6.) Everything is organized. Their desk has nothing on it but their Mac, their pens are neatly on the shelf in small cups, they make their beds the second they get out of bed. They have a filing system, so the second they get papers back they put them in the files. When everything of yours has a home it's a lot easier to study and be productive.
7.) They treat school like their job. They may have other part-time jobs, but they know that school is their main focus, and it should therefore be treated as a job. Not wanting to be fired from your job corresponds with not wanting to fail your classes. They therefore work as hard as they can and try to "impress" the boss.
8.) They give it everything they have. They are dedicated, have goals, and know what they want. They don't want to "just get through high school/college." They want to learn, they want to become successful, and most are even aiming for goals such as valedictorian. They won't accept B's or C's. (Please note that while it is very good to have high standards. getting a lower grade once in awhilehigh standards, getting a lower grade once in awhile isn't that big of a deal!!!)
9.) They keep themselves happy and healthy. They take well deserved breaks (only when everything is done), they have "off" days, they get enough SLEEP and WATER, and they keep themselves fit doing yoga, running, cardio, etc.
10) They don't mind helping other people. They don't turn a blind eye to people who need help. Instead they use it as a teaching experience, and help the student through the problem or whatever they need help with. Teaching people is super helpful. I sometimes write on my whiteboard and pretend that I am teaching an imaginary (I'm such a loser but it helps;).
#study blog#studyblr#light academia#studyblr community#academic validation#academic weapon#student life#study#study motivation#study with me#tips ixh
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How to set up a research journal
This is just one way you can set up a research journal but it's helping me tremendously so maybe it also works for you. My set-up is partially inspired by this video by Answer in Progress and I suggest you check out their curiosity journal.
Preparation
First you need a notebook. The trick is to find a notebook that you're not afraid to "ruin". We all want a really neat, aesthetic research journal, but the reality looks more like hasty scribbles, but that's okay, that's where the research breakthroughs happen.
I personally bought a cheap lined notebook from Søstrene Grene that I thought looked cute and put a sticker on it. That way I feel good about using it but I also don't mind when my handwriting gets messy because it was only like 3€.
You should also stock up on pens you like writing with. Different colour highlighters and post-its are also a good idea but not a must. Keep it cheap but comfortable.
Title Page
Here you should put down all the really important information: year, title, deadlines, word count, supervisors. Maybe add an inspirational quote to spice it up but keep it simple and relevant.
Key
This should either be your next or your last page. I personally use the last pages of my journal so I can add thing and find it easier. Your key is there to list abbreviations and symbols.
For example, I have different symbols for statistics, dates, new terminology, questions, breakthroughs, important notes and abbreviations for the most important terms in my field. It's shorter to write T9N than Translation.
The trick here is to have enough abbreviations and symbols to save time and effort but not so many that you constantly have to look back and forth between your page and key. They should be memorable and not easy to confuse.
Topic Mind map
If you hate mind maps you can skip this of course or use a different method but what helped me is to visualise all the topics that connect to my research project in a mind map. I then colour-coded the main groups of topics with my highlighters. It helps me to keep an overview on how many topics I need to do research on.
Proposal
If you're writing a thesis/dissertation it can be helpful to have a page set aside for your proposal and take some bullet point notes on methodology, chapter structure, research context, aims and objectives and think of some titles. You can also do this for your lit review and a list of works to include.
Hypothesis and Question Pages
I set aside four pages for this but you can adjust this to your needs. The first page is my hypothesis. It doesn't have to be fully formed yet, it can just be bullet points with five question marks. You can always revise and update it but it is important to keep an eye on what you're actually trying to find out.
The next idea is basically just stolen from Answer in Progress: a section for big questions, medium questions and little questions. These aren't necessarily hypotheses you aim to answer but questions you have about your topic that might be good to look into (maybe they lead somewhere, maybe they don't).
Research Notes
Now comes the big, fun part. Research notes are allowed to be a little messy but you should have some sort of system so you can actually find what you're looking for afterwards. I'm currently just looking at books and articles so that's what my system is based on. You can totally adjust this to include other forms of research.
What I do is that I put down and underline the author and title of my source. Underneath that I use my highlighters and mark the topic of the paper based on how I colour-coded them in my mind map. You might have to do this after you've finished reading. For example, if a text talks about censorship and dubbing in Germany, three of my topics, I will draw three lines in light blue, dark blue and red, the colours I chose for those topics. This way you can easily browse your notes and see which pages are talking about which topics.
When it comes to the actual research notes, I include the page number on the left and then take bullet point notes on whatever is relevant. These are often abbreviated and paraphrased but if something is especially important I will write down a full quote.
As mentioned earlier, I have a key of symbols I use so I can simply put down a '!' in order to differentiate a research breakthrough from a normal note. You can insert your own thoughts much more easily when you know you'll be able to tell them apart later on. At the end of each article, book or even chapter I write down my main takeaway.
Other Notes
This is your research journal and you can do with it what you want. I also added lists of films that might be relevant for my research, a list of databases and publishers to check for papers and tips on research strategy.
If you're working with interviews or surveys you could write down your questions. If you're nervous about your research you could include a list of reasons why your research project is important or why you're doing it. You can include a to-do list or a calendar to track meetings with supervisors. Anything that helps you with your research.
#gradblr#studyblr#studyspo#study tips#research#research journal#dissertation#thesis#thesis writing#academia#academic research#academic writing#journal#bullet journal
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8.9.24
Autumn, I love you so much! 🍂 It feels really good and cosy to be back at my desk and appreciating the dawnings of the most delicious season again.
I've been working on a document in preparation for a big meeting tomorrow morning, as part of my role as a student rep! Fingers crossed it will go really well.
47/100 days of productivity
(Maybe maybe I'll be back to posting these more frequently nowadays. Maybe I'll start using my bullet journal again...)🕯️
#studyblr#my work#100 days of productivity#:)#autumn#studyblr aesthetic#dark academia#phdblr#gradblr#phd student#phd life
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a guide to dealing with emotions in a healthy way˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚🌷
what makes a coping mechanism healthy or unhealthy - a healthy coping mechanism isn't harmful to u or others. like listening to music or going on long walks to relieve stress. an unhealthy coping mechanism is something that is harmful to u or others and here r some examples so that u can become aware of ur own coping mechanisms.
forced positivity is a harmful coping mechanism bcuz it doesn't come from a place of genuine happiness. it comes from denial, invalidation, and minimization. u dont always have to have a positive disposition if ur going thru something. YOURE HUMAN and ur allowed to go thru emotions without having to mask everything and pretend to be feeling something that ur not. (replace this harmful coping mechanism with taking the time every day to write about ur feelings, u dont even have to talk about it if it makes u uncomfortable but dont let it weigh down on ur heart, let it out in ur journal, or with a trusted companion or family member)
self isolation, as a species we r social creatures and we crave and NEED interaction and connection with others
fatalism is simply when we experience something that's bad and imagine that its the worst possible thing that has ever happened to u. its an instinctive trait. dont prepare for the worst bcuz doing this will literally just give u more stress. (replace this harmful coping mechanism with listing 5 of the worst possible outcomes and asking urself how likely they are to actually happen, if u feel like one outcome is TRULY likely then plan for that outcome)
dont repress ur feelings, i feel like this ties back to our first bullet point so repressing ur feelings is literally the worst thing that u can do. its a defense mechanism that activates when u feel like u no longer have control over a situation. be genuine with how u feel and express it calmly and reasonably in a way that doesn't harm others (meditation rly helps to reduce emotional outbursts, so does yelling into a pillow, dancing, and working out)
#self care#it girl#becoming that girl#self love#that girl#dream girl#it girl energy#self improvement#self reflection#emotional intelligence#mental health
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yandere influencer x fem! reader (pt 3)
Don't you know you're the apple of his eye?
“Narcissus, the figure from an ancient Greek tale,” Professor Smith began, scribbling on the board, “is the origin of the term ‘narcissism.’ This is a word we now associate with a self-centered personality style. This quality in extreme contributes to the definition of Narcissistic Personality Disorder, a psychiatric condition marked by the trademark qualities of grandiosity, excessive need for attention and admiration, and an inability to empathize with others.”
Your gaze fluttered to the board. Quickly, you typed out the title: Topic; Day one of the lecture series ‘Senses of Disorder in the Modern Self.’ You jotted your notes in single-streamed thoughts, highlighting subjects, then tacking on more details as they came. Narcissus… Greek myth, personality disorder, grandiosity, need for attention, lack of empathy.
“His story and the motifs found within were fitted to the preoccupations of the subject, subjectivity, and intersubjectivity, and these are all within the realm of psychoanalytic theory.”
The professor switched topics and lines of thought too quickly, and even though you smashed the keys on your laptop as fast as your fingers would allow, you were left with unfinished bullet points. Finally giving up, y leouaned back and allowed yourself to stretch, slowly moving your wrists in circles. It seemed like your classmates shared the same sentiment; some scribbled furiously while others typed away. You decided to give up and conduct research to supplement the parts of the lecture you missed.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard; spying Cillian’s utter lack of preparation gnawed at your focus. He hadn’t even bothered to bring a journal, much less, even to appear focused, occasionally jotting strings of thought on a crumpled sheet of loose leaf paper. His eyes remained fixated on his phone, thumb swiping up and down with a languid grace that somehow irked you.
As his pencil dragged across the page, you peered over at his notes, startled to discover a few scrawled lines. Half of them were dedicated to meal planning while the other was pretentious strings of thought to caption his posts. You weren’t too upset with the latter. With the task often falling into your consideration, you wished you could have applied it to a resume; helping Cillian run his social pages was nearly a separate job itself.
But how did he expect to pass the upcoming final exam when he had hardly anything related to the class written down? Only his outfit was exemplary, but even then, there was room for improvement; he wore a singular earring, and he donned a chunky, ugly sweatband, exposing his angular forehead and sharp eyes, and to top it all off, he sported a jean jacket with a design of half-melted smiley faces, though it looked more like they were grimacing. The compilation almost looked ridiculous, but a face like his was the ultimate saving grace.
He kept glacing at his reflection. Didn’t he have better things to worry about? He was rich, but to dedicate such a vital time to looking good was a travesty. You wondered if his parents were proud of the son they raised.
You shook your head to dispel the thought. You let out a soft sigh, almost imperceptible amidst the lecturer’s steady drone, and resolved to quell the tide of jealousy that threatened to overwhelm you. Your fingers drummed on the desk, gaze flickering between the professor’s slides and the clock at the front of the lecture hall. Your mind, however, was soon sent into tumult.
“So, how was your date with Rian?” Cillian abruptly asked, still refusing to look up from his doodlest.
“Date?” Your voice hitched, the word snagging in your throat like a fishbone. “How did you— Well, it wasn’t a—”
“Thanks to a street photographer and Rian’s Instagram, everyone gets to see you two cozying up,” Cillian cut you off, his tone deceptively light.
His smartphone lay between you, its screen glowing with the evidence—a photo of you and Rian, sitting at the window, laughing together, shared by some account you didn’t know. You tried committing the username to memory, but when he noticed you staring a little too long, Cillian snatched it back.
“We were just grabbing a drink, and I was too buzzed to answer any calls. You know I would never purposefully ignore you.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re slipping away?” His words were soft but pointed, like a dagger wrapped in velvet. He leaned closer, and the scent of his cologne enveloped you, a mixture of citrus and something smoky. “Why don’t I feel like I’m your most valuable friend anymore?”
“You are,” you stammered, your hands now clutching at the fabric of your skirt. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourrself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t look at my phone the entire night. I didn’t mean to make you think—”
His voice was even as his eyes bore into yours, seeking something far beyond your gaze. “It’s fine. Just remember to call me back next time.”
You nodded, an unvoiced apology hanging in the air. You glanced back at the lecture, where neural patterns danced on the screen, mocking you with their clarity. If only understanding your tangled emotions and Cillian’s cryptic intentions were as simple as memorizing textbook definitions.
You tried to refocus on the lecture, the hum of voices and the professor's monotonous drone becoming a distant echo as Cillian's leg brushed against yours under the table. You shifted in your seat, pulling away slightly, only to feel his warmth follow.
“I will. You’re my friend, after all.” You managed to say. You could feel every eye in the room, or so it seemed, even if they were all fixated on their own notes, their own worlds.
“Friends?” Cillian echoed, tilting his head. “Is that all we are? What makes you like Rian better than me?”
“Cillian, you know that’s not the case,” you hastened, your lips dry. “You’re my closest friend. You’re the most important person in this world. Like I’ve said, last night was just… it was nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious.” He repeated the phrase slowly, tasting each syllable as if it were a delicacy laced with poison. “Then why did I find out from pictures online? Why did it have to be a secret?”
“It wasn’t a secret. It was just an impromptu meet-up. Trust me on this.”
“Trust is a luxury,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “And I’m afraid to say I’m not afforded much of it by you these days.”
“Look, I’ve already said sorry. What more do you want?” You sighed, your patience fraying at the edges. “If you’re really that upset, I’ll make it up to you, okay? It really isn’t worth arguing over.”
“I like the sound of that.” Cillian mused, leaning back in his seat, seemingly satisfied. You turned, finding him ruffling his hair with an air of nonchalance. “But I want you to enjoy it too, and you look like you could use some retail therapy.”
“Shopping? I don't know…”
“Is it about last night? Did that guy bum off of you? You don’t have to worry about costs with me. I’ll pay. You can make it up to me this way, and you’ll get something nice, too. It’s a win-win.”
You weighed the pros of placating him against the cons of further indebting yourself to him. Although you had the same humble beginnings, Cillian had long since joined a world you could only imagine belonging to. The longer you entertained him, the more he seemed to thrive on appearances, on being seen with someone willing to play the part he assigned them.
Fortunately, you played your role well and reaped the rewards.
“Fine,” you finally breathed out, the acquiescence tasting of sour grapes. “But not today, and just for a little while. I really need to focus on this lecture.”
As if the universe was conspiring against y,ou the professor exclaimed, “And that’s all for today. Any questions?” he said, scanning the room for any raised hands. “No? Well, that’s all, then. You’ve got ten minutes left if you want to stay in this class, but I’ll get going now. I’ll post the slides by tonight.”
Shamelessly, you grabbed Cillian’s hand, stopping him from closing his notebook. You pulled back, releasing him when a slight red tint came to his face. His dangling earring occupied your thoughts for a brief second. Chrome against porcelain, topped by his dark locks. The paleness suited him, although it caused his features to meld together, almost like he wore a flawless mask.
“Sorry, I was just wondering if you caught anything I missed.”
Gaze fluttering up from his phone, he breezily said, “Do you need help? I booked a study room in the library, but if you’d like, we can go to my place.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just wait for the professor to post the slides.” You turned until he was invisible in your peripheral vision. Nevertheless, you felt his gaze trained to you as you shoved your laptop into your backpack. “Where are you going to be during your free hour?”
When your shame deemed that you had punished yourself enough, you was able to face him once more. Turning around, you saw the sunlight playing off his form. His face seemed to illuminate like a lightbulb against the chalkboard’s dreary background. Just over his head on the board, Professor Li’s messy handwriting read ‘Narcissistic Personality Disorder.’ Your gaze quickly returned to admiring his face.
“I’ll be at the bio building if you need me,” Cillian replied, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I just have to turn in this paper and then I’m done for the day. Want to come with me?”
He smiled at you, and suddenly, your spirits brightened. You returned that brilliant grin, losing a few kilowatts in transmission when your phone pinged.
‘Need ur help. Too bright. - Rian.’
Quickly cramping the device into your bag, you laughed. “Sorry, something just came up. I’ll meet up with you at our regular place instead.”
Cillian’s smile faltered slightly. “You’re not coming with me? Did you already make plans with someone else?”
You didn’t want to outright say such, so you skirted around a direct answer.
“It might take some time, but I’ll be there with you,” you assured him. Knowing the promise wasn't enough, you tacked on more words that would soothe his mind, stating, “Who else would I be with? You know I don’t have that many friends.”
That he knew of. There was benefits to walking on the chasm’s edge; you treated Cillian as your own secret world, a portal to an otherwise unobtainable, glamorous realm. With Rian and his group, you were fortunate enough to experience what life might be like if you were regular, and in Cillian’s presence, you got a taste of the life of an overworked talent agent, passing excess through your hands like a sieve onto his pampered lamp. But you were fine with the day-and-night difference; your relationships were unique. With Rian and Connor, even. People were people, and people had different personalities, thoughts, aspirations, goals, and fears, so it wasn’t wrong to cleave yourself into parts, to send each into different orbits.
“Okay,” Cillian finally conceded. “Don’t take too long. I’ll treat you to lunch.”
“No, let me,” you quickly interjected, prepared to atone.
Cillian winked, his smile retreating to its fullest potential. “No. Let me take care of you.”
Before you objected, your phone pinged again.
“I’m sorry! I’ll meet with you later!” you blurted before he could object and trap you in a web of guilt. With a swift turn on your heel, you darted away, leaving the classroom and its muffled sounds of a lesson continuing without you. Your glasses threatened to slide off your nose as you hurried through the crowded hallways, your form a blur against the sea of students, then out the doors. Legs pumping, you raced across the yard, toward the library.
You pushed through the heavy doors and into the hushed ambiance, immediately searching for Rian. There, nestled between the looming bookshelves in a secluded corner, was his delicate frame, hunched and quivering.
“Rian?” You whispered.
He looked up, his eyes awash with despair, tears tracing clean lines down his cheeks. “Y/N,” he slurred, recognition flickering weakly behind the glassiness of his gaze.
“Rian.” You knelt beside him, suppressing the heat of rage bubbling within you at the sight. Fighting the instinct to lash out at the circumstances that had driven him to this state, you steadied your breath and reached out a tentative hand. He looked up at you, eyes glimmering with tears, a strained smile stretching across his lips. Instead of going for an embrace, you reached for his water bottle, which reeked of alcohol. You fought him, but eventually managed to wrestle it from his grasp and confiscate it.
“Sorry, Rian. I’m not giving this back to you.”
“But I’m done for the rest of the day. This is my precious springtime of youth. Let me live a little!”
“Look, drunkards are normal to encounter in the streets, but not on campus. You’re doing something so reckless, and in broad daylight, and you could still get expelled if anyone sees you. And if that happens, your grandparents are going to hit you so hard that you’ll spend your precious springtime of youth in a coma until the winter of your final years. Don’t do that to yourself.”
Rian remained silent. You were sure he was going to glare and curse you out, but then, he tilted his head until it rested on your shoulder. Voice quivering, he confessed, “My girlfriend broke up with me and I… I guess I… I mean I—”
“Rian,” you said, softly this time. “Come on. We both know a girl can’t affect you that much. What is this really about?”
“You’re right.” He lifted his head up and leaned against the wall instead. “It isn’t just the alcohol messing with my mind. It’s just that… That everyone… They all leave me,” he mumbled through a choked sob. “Everyone. My parents, Eve, my grandparents will follow soon, and how long until you’re gone too? How long until everyone thinks I’m a burden?” His voice cracked, and before you offered a comforting word, he burst into body-wracking sobs.
“I’m not going anywhere. I won’t ever leave you alone,” you assured, placing an arm around his shoulders. Tremors coursed through his body. Your phone buzzed insistently in your pocket, but you ignored it. Rian needed you more than you needed to appease anyone’s vanity or paranoia. Swallowing the bile of your own anxiety, you held him close. “You don’t have to believe me yet because I haven’t shown you, but I’ll keep proving it until you believe me. But for now,” you murmured, helping him to his feet, “let’s get you out of here. And how about some food? It’d do you good.”
Rian placed another hand on top of yours, though his eyes were still transfixed on the wall. Reluctantly, you pulled away, shaking off his grip in favor of unlocking your phone. Immediately, you saw that you had ten messages, split between your built-in app and Instagram account. Ignoring an incoming call and another text, you told Rian, “Forget about Eve, okay?”
“Eve? Who is that?” He laughed, shoulders shaking with each chuckle. The tears on his face hadn’t stopped pouring down. “Eve who? Like Christmas Eve? More like Christmas Evil. Fucking love that song. Thought Christmas albums were kitsch, but it slaps.”
“On second thought,” y ousighed, taking in his sorry condition, “how about I take you back to your dorm?”
“Will you carry me?”
“Rian, no!” You were powerless as he trapped you in a hug. His arms draped over your shoulders, but his balance was compromised, and he loaded his body weight onto your back. He was hardly a few centimeters taller than you, but he went almost entirely slack, draping his frame atop yours. Struggling to remain upright, you sent a quick text to his roommate, attaching your location. He responded fairly fast, informing you that he was already near them and would be scarfing down his lunch to head over.
His head bobbed, his wavy hair brushing against his forehead. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just didn’t know what else to do. The world feels like it’s falling out from under me.”
“Come on, get up.” Standing, you slipped an arm under his, trying to coax him to his feet. “You can’t stay here like this, and we’re already a spectacle.”
Rian’s body felt limp, but he allowed himself to be partially lifted by your insistent pull. As he staggered to his feet, you glanced around, acutely aware of the curious glances from other students. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment—not for yourself, but for Rian.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Always,” you said, ignoring your still-buzzing device. For now, your friend’s well-being was y our sole focus. “Let’s find somewhere quiet.”
Compliant now, you guided him outside. Embracing the sunlight, y you disregarded the stone pathway. You stepped onto the lush green yard and squinted, stumbling towards a bench secluded by a grove of whispering trees.
As you sat, you pulled out your phone. Your fingers hesitated over the contact list. As much as you wanted to solve every problem yourself, this was beyond you. With a deep breath, you dialed Connor’s number.
“Hey, Conner. I’m on campus with Rian, and he’s—well, he’s plastered and not doing great. I can wait with him for a while, but I have somewhere to be. Can you come get him? Or I can meet you halfway.”
Your words were direct, bypassing the niceties that often cluttered conversations.
“What is that idiot up to now?” came his humorous response. “Of course. I’ll be there soon.”
“Thank you,” you murmured, ending the call and slipping the phone back into your pocket. You turned to Rian and reassured, “Good news. Your roommate will be here shortly.”
He nodded, and you sat in silence, the hushed sounds of nature wrapping around you like a soft blanket. In the distance, the faint hum of traffic whispered.
But for now, in this secluded haven, time seemed to slow, allowing you to fulfill your role as comforter, as protector of your friend’s fragile spirit. As you waited for Connor's arrival, your mind couldn't help but wander to Cillian and the plans you had made. Yet, you pushed those thoughts aside. Here, with Rian’s head resting on your shoulder, you found your purpose.
“I can’t believe you really risked it all.” You forked your fingers into his hair, smoothing out the knots. “All for some girl?”
You reached to grasp his hand. You offered no grand gestures, only the steady rhythm of your palm tracing small circles. Your words, when they came, were soft-spoken, weaving through the silence like threads of silk.
“Rian,” you murmured, “heartache, it seeps into us, but it doesn’t define us. You’re more than this pain, more than what you’ve lost. Your kindness,” you continued, feeling his fingers squeeze around yours, “it lights up rooms. Someone will see that and cherish you. This isn't the end. It’s just a really tough part of your life. It’ll get better, and if it doesn’t, I’ll hunt the bitch down and break her knees."
The silence lasted only a moment, then Rian burst into tears. Sighing, you kept stroking his hair, rubbing his back, and murmuring sweet cheer-me-ups.
Approaching from behind, a pair of arms wrapped around you, pinning you and Rian against the bench. Glancing up, you greeted Connor, who trapped you in his embrace until Rian’s tears finally ceased their stream, his body settling into quiet hiccups.
Pulling away, Connor regarded you with a thankful look. “Thanks for keeping him out of trouble. You can go. I’ll take care of him from here,” he urged, voice close to your ear. If it wasn’t for how Rian was trying to curl into a ball and pass out on the bench, you would have blushed.
“I cannot thank you enough. Really.”
“Anything for a friend,” he replied with his easy smile, but you were already rushing away.
“Really, I owe you one!” you called over your shoulder, your voice nearly lost amidst the chatter of students and rustling leaves.
“Then tutor me in biology!”
Shouting a reluctant agreement, you sped away, your mind whirling as fast as your legs. You wondered if it was right to leave Rian in the hands of someone else, but a person like him was suited for anyone. Well-liked by almost everyone, he was a sweet boy known for coming to class with a smile, and for not being very smart but still trying his best to contribute to class discussions.
He wasn’t alone, but Cillian? It pained you to see how he kept an arm’s distance from anyone he wasn’t already acquainted with. It was funny how in spite of witnessing Rian’s tears, your mind was still focused on that vain man. Perhaps it was because you knew that although his initial reactions were always overly-zealous, Rian would eventually stomach the heartache while Cillian could not. You had personally witnessed the depth of hurt that he could, or rather could not handle. His threshold for pain of any kind was rather shallow.
The incessant pinging of the phone in your bag only served to remind you who needed you more. Although you had been sitting with Rian and trying to coax him out of his depressed state for nearly half of an hour, the messages had never stopped pouring in. With a sigh, you realized you couldn't ignore him much longer.
You spotted him before he saw you, sitting outside a cafe, staring at his phone. His hair caught the light, a raven’s wing glinting with shades of indigo. As you approached, his head snapped up, eyes locking onto your with an intensity that made you falter.
“What took you so long?” He asked lips curved downwards. He ruffled his hair, an agitated sigh escaping his lungs. “I was waiting for you.”
You grappled with the familiar weight of guilt, the dreaded sensation of having let someone down. “Sorry. I’ll explain when we’re inside,” you said prompting, eager to escape the prying eyes of passersby.
“Lead the way,” Cillian said, stepping aside with a flourish that bordered on mockery. He followed you in silence, the tension unspoken but palpable, like the static charge before a storm.
As you passed through the doorway, the cafe enveloped them in warmth and the murmur of conversation. Cillian took the seat next to you, boxing you against the window. With his elbows resting on the table, your hands found refuge in the pockets of your ill-fitting cardigan, mind racing with ways to mend the rift, even as your heart whispered warnings you weren’t ready to heed.
Retrieving a menu tucked beneath the napkin dispenser, you fidgeted with the laminated edges, stealing glances at Cillian. His presence was like a cloud, darkening the cozy ambiance of the cafe. You cleared your throat, summoning the courage to bridge the chasm his displeasure had created.
“Cillian, about why I was late…” you began, “I’m really sorry. I was dealing with a crisis. Rian was out there day drinking. Poor boy’s upset and having a rough time.” You scooted your chair closer to him. He looked at your from the corner of his eye before moving to rest his arm on the back of your chair.
“Him again?” Cillian’s tone was sharp, slicing through your words. “The guy’s a walking disaster. I don’t see why you have to play the hero every time something hurts his little heart. Maybe it should just be carved out and given to someone who’ll take better care of it.”
You recoiled, the sting of his words biting. You searched his face for some sign of understanding but found none. His features were set in stone, handsome yet impassive, his eyes reflecting the screen glow from his phone rather than any warmth towards your predicament.
“I couldn’t just leave him there,” you said, your own eyes darting away from his scrutiny to focus on a coffee stain on the table. “He needed a friend.”
“Seems like he wants to ask for more than that from you,” Cillian retorted, scrolling through his messages. “But clearly, you value your little charity missions with clingy bastards who’re only trying to get into your skirt more than the plans you’ve made with the friend who’s only trying to treat you to a snack while you study.” Huffing, he turned away. “What was he bothered by this time?”
“Rian isn’t like that,” you objected. “He was only acting out because his girlfriend broke up with him. Of course, he’d be upset. Most would.”
Cillian scoffed, earning a glare from you. Even though he had issues too, he didn't need to lash out and be rude to others. They were peers. They both knew what that sort of heartbreak was like. Cillian should’ve supported him instead of arguing over who had it worse.
Crossing his leg, he clicked his tongue. “You should have at least told me where you were. I was waiting for thirty minutes.”
Pushing your irritation aside, you inhaled. Friendships differed from person to person, so you had to understand why Cillian was feeling the way he did, and where that feeling was coming from. He had been there for you during your times of need, so you had to return the favor, no matter how late.
“I’ll tell you next time,” you mindlessly offered, eyes bright with a forced cheerfulness you hoped would placate him. “I know you said you want to go shopping soon, but let me do something for you. We can go anywhere. Your choice.”
“Anywhere?” he echoed, the corner of his mouth twitching into something resembling amusement. It was a small victory, but it eased the knot in your chest.
“Anywhere. I promise. Just let me make it right.”
Make what right? You didn’t know how you’d wronged him, but you didn’t want to be the cause of his suffering.
“Promise, then. Promise to me.”
“I promise.”
“Say it properly,” he prodded, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
“I swear to you, Cillian,” you said, the formal phrasing feeling strange on your tongue. “I’ll stop being a bad friend and make it up to you.”
“Good.” His tight-lipped frown dissolved into something warm and disarming, as if the past few minutes had never happened. “Shall we order, then? I’m starving.”
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surgery anxieties aside, one thing i am looking forward to - aside from, y'know, not having tits - is the mandatory three weeks of recovery time. i can just see myself lying in bed with my little bullet journal in my lap like "well, i did exactly what i was supposed to do today, which was nothing. better get some sleep in preparation for another long day of doing nothing. i am a model patient."
#it's not that i'm lazy it's just that i constantly feel guilty for napping or enjoying my little hobbies when i could be working#so being medically forbidden from doing anything strenuous will really help with my inevitable 'Oh God I'm Not Doing Enough' thought spiral#(also i won't be doing NOTHING nothing. i plan to do some writing and drawing and so on. which is like... a fun nothing.)
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Reality Show: Dateables (Obey Me!)
Diavolo and the others agreed to become a part of a new demon reality show that revolves around their lives.
»Characters: Dateables // ->[Click here for Part 1: Demon Bros]
»Tags: Shitpost/Humor, Bulleted Style, Solomon On His BS LMAO, Slight Mentions of MC
»Notes: Now I do, thanks for asking Anon!♡ // CM= Crew Member
Diavolo:
"Haha! Make sure you get my good side yeah!?"
He was ecstatic, this was the most exciting thing he's done in a while
His camera crew was nervous at first but then relaxed when they saw how easy-going the prince was
Then got nervous again when Barbatos threatened them to remind them who they're in the presence of
Filming him kept them on their toes, it was either going to be an easy normal day or a chaotic one
[Camera zooms in on Dia's photo album and zooms out to an excited Dia]
"Oh, oh! And this is me and Lucifer at the carnival! And this one is me and MC! And here's us all together!"
CM: "My lord may we ask how you feel about MC?"
[Camera pans to Dia reaching for a journal titled MC Fanfiction ]
"I'm glad you asked."
Barbatos shut that down real quick and made them cut that last part that day
[Camera cuts to Dia doing selfie POV and running from Barbatos and the crew] "-AND LUCIFER HAS THE MOST OUTRAGEOUS B-"
[Camera cuts momentarily, flashes of Lucifer and Dia struggling]
Naturally, the demons loved the prince even more after filming ended, it was nice to see another side of him
Barbatos:
"Delete that. Understood? 🙂"
Hated the entire show idea and tried to talk Diavolo out of it however he lost that battle
His camera crew was scared the entire time but filming him was easy for the most part
Viewers liked seeing the day to day things the butler did for the prince like preparing meals and organizing events
[Camera shakes as they trail behind Barbatos]
"You can't follow me into my room."
CM: "But the contract states-"
"🙂"
(nervous) CM: "Wow what's that!?" [Shakily zooms in on a clean empty corner]
[Distant camera keeps panning between Barbatos and a rat having a stand off just outside the castle grounds... it runs at him]
"TELL THE YOUNG MASTER IT WAS AN HONOR-"
CM: (Scares the rat in the opposite direction)
[Camera cuts to a disheveled Barb up in a tree]
"...Do you like pastries? Luxurious rare teas? How do you like to be rewarded?"
Simeon:
"Um...hello. I'm Simeon, an exchange student from the Celestial Realm."
Didn't mind being filmed but wasn't sure how to act so:
Main Character energy, he talked like he was on livestream, very show and tell; exactly what the show needed
His crew had a pleasant time with him and viewers loved the angel
[Camera zooms out and pans around his room, focusing on a sheep plushie]
"So this is where I live...and these are my things. I love to write in my spare time!"
[Camera pans to him looking out his window]
"You can see the House of Lamentation from this spot. Always seems to be on fire on Thursdays. Explosions are Saturdays. (BOOM) Ah, right on time. (sips tea)"
[Camera quickly zooms in on his shoulders and hips losing some focus] He's unaware of the fanservice he provides
CM: "Do angels ever get crushes, are they allowed? There's rumors with you and MC-"
"Um, well, you see, oh HEY LUKE! Sorry guys I promised I'd help him with baking!"
[Camera cuts to him pulling an annoyed Luke out the room]
CM to CM: "Can angels ever lie!? Is that allowed!?"
Luke:
"For the last time, I'm not a chihuahua!"
(whispering) CM to CM: "Heh, the rumors are true. He's got a little bark in him!"
Luke was nervous about filming but Simeon helped
His crew had a hard time with him; not that Luke was difficult but more so the crew had to watch what they say or how they act around the young angel
[Camera zooms in through the kitchen door and catches Luke dropping a whole bowl of batter]
They caught him saying his first bad word
Demons liked this 👍 Simeon did not 👎
CM: "That's too high, let me get that for you."
"I can do it myself, thanks!"
[Camera pans to Luke falling, scraping his knee and tearing up]
(sighing) CM: "Come here, I got a band-aid."
Solomon:
"Is this for a cooking show?"
Would not listen and made it a cooking show
His crew rolled with it anyway since it was easy to film him
"Welcome to Solo Cooking!"
Viewers were a little confused but continued watching
[Camera tries to focus on the fresh dish he made]
CM: "Oh that looks good can we try it?"
"By all means!"
His crew had to take a few days off from nearly dying so production moved slowly
One of the CMs ended up quitting and suing but Barb took care of it
[Camera catches Solo calling & inviting MC for dinner]
Out of good faith, one of the crew took his phone and chucked it
"...You could've just said you and the crew wanted an invitation? There's enough-"
His entire crew: (start running)
Viewers were a little disappointed, they thought they'd see more of the sorcerers life
There was one clip though
[Camera catches Solomon and the rarely seen Levi hanging out and laughing]
For some reason that clip became popular and was deemed precious
⬦You might also like: MC's Livestream
#OUTRAGEOUS WHAT DIA!? BOOBS? BOOTY? BODY? BODACIOUS BODY!? 🤨#Solomon: I finally made it 💯#Angel Smut/Kink tags shot up LMAO#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me shitpost#obey me crack#obey me humor#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me solomon#obey me dateables#◇˖・゚— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#✩ — the star: anon!#shitpostcifer
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Preparations
THE journals of the day which said that that nearly impregnable structure of the barricade of the Rue de la Chanvrerie, as they call it, reached to the level of the first floor, were mistaken. The fact is, that it did not exceed an average height of six or seven feet. It was built in such a manner that the combatants could, at their will, either disappear behind it or dominate the barrier and even scale its crest by means of a quadruple row of paving-stones placed on top of each other and arranged as steps in the interior. On the outside, the front of the barricade, composed of piles of paving-stones and casks bound together by beams and planks, which were entangled in the wheels of Anceau's dray and of the overturned omnibus, had a bristling and inextricable aspect.
An aperture large enough to allow a man to pass through had been made between the wall of the houses and the extremity of the barricade which was furthest from the wine-shop, so that an exit was possible at this point. The pole of the omnibus was placed upright and held up with ropes, and a red flag, fastened to this pole, floated over the barricade.
The little Mondétour barricade, hidden behind the wine-shop building, was not visible. The two barricades united formed a veritable redoubt. Enjolras and Courfeyrac had not thought fit to barricade the other fragment of the Rue Mondétour which opens through the Rue des Prêcheurs an issue into the Halles, wishing, no doubt, to preserve a possible communication with the outside, and not entertaining much fear of an attack through the dangerous and difficult street of the Rue des Prêcheurs.
With the exception of this issue which was left free, and which constituted what Folard in his strategical style would have termed a branch, and taking into account, also, the narrow cutting arranged on the Rue de la Chanvrerie, the interior of the barricade, where the wine-shop formed a salient angle, presented an irregular square, closed on all sides. There existed an interval of twenty paces between the grand barrier and the lofty houses which formed the background of the street, so that one might say that the barricade rested on these houses, all inhabited, but closed from top to bottom.
All this work was performed without any hindrance, in less than an hour, and without this handful of bold men seeing a single bear-skin cap or a single bayonet make their appearance. The very bourgeois who still ventured at this hour of riot to enter the Rue Saint-Denis, cast a glance at the Rue de la Chanvrerie, caught sight of the barricade, and redoubled their pace.
The two barricades being finished, and the flag run up, a table was dragged out of the wine-shop; and Courfeyrac mounted on the table.
Enjolras brought the square coffer, and Courfeyrac opened it. This coffer was filled with cartridges. When the mob saw the cartridges, a tremor ran through the bravest, and a momentary silence ensued.
Courfeyrac distributed them with a smile.
Each one received thirty cartridges. Many had powder, and set about making others with the bullets which they had run.
As for the barrel of powder, it stood on a table on one side, near the door, and was held in reserve.
The alarm beat which ran through all Paris, did not cease, but it had finally come to be nothing more than a monotonous noise to which they no longer paid any attention. This noise retreated at times, and again drew near, with melancholy undulations.
They loaded the guns and carbines, all together, without haste, with solemn gravity. Enjolras went and stationed three sentinels outside the barricades, one in the Rue de la Chanvrerie, the second in the Rue des Prêcheurs, the third at the corner of the Rue de la Petite Truanderie.
Then, the barricades having been built, the posts assigned, the guns loaded, the sentinels stationed, they waited, alone in those redoubtable streets through which no one passed any longer, surrounded by those dumb houses which seemed dead and in which no human movement palpitated, enveloped in the deepening shades of twilight which was drawing on, in the midst of that silence through which something could be felt advancing, and which had about it something tragic and terrifying, isolated, armed, determined, and tranquil.
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Here's a quick snippet of something I'm working on. This is from a discarded draft, but I'm still thinking of rewriting it and using it as the cold open for the story.
The bullet in her leg was going to be a problem.
Lena had been in scrapes before. This was, after all, the third version of her armor, each one built after the previous one had failed her in some way. It had taken her six long years to work out the balance between strength and agility, speed and power; to enhance her stealth abilities and find the right balance of preparation vs weight in her equipment. Prior to that she'd spent almost ten years preparing for her mission. Traveling, studying, learning, inventing.
At first her only concern had been blades and bullets. That had been easy to deal with. Her armored suit consisted of a base layer of electrically activated fibers that simulated fast twitch muscle fibers and could boost her overall strength output five fold, making her the physical equal or better of any enemy she might encounter in the field. A layer of kevlar-nomex triweave and proprietary composite armor plating over that made her quick and agile but well protected against guns and knives.
Tonight she'd learned that well protected wasn't totally protected.
It was almost funny, after everything that had happened in those five years, everything she'd overcome, that a gang of corrupt cops and mob thugs would be the ones to take her down.
Oh, and make no mistake, she had been taken down. She might have escaped the Axis Chemical factory, but she wasn't going to make it to the extraction point, and she knew it. She wasn't going to make it to Alfred this time.
They'd find her, eventually, pry her out of the armor, and reveal to the world that the Batman had been Lena Wayne all along. Of all the things she regretted as the plain flared in her thigh and she felt hot blood flowing beneath the inner layer of her suit, Lena was surprised to find that one of the things she'd regret most was not getting to see the looks on their faces when they found out.
She'd faced down plant toxins and freeze cannons and a shape-shifting monster. Aliens and metahumans and magicians. She'd taken them all on and come up ahead.
You know what? Lena decided, this isn't too bad. No, it wasn't a good death, but she was going out on her terms, knowing that she'd made some small difference. Maybe someone else could carry on her work. She'd left journals behind, set out instructions for what was to be done with her inventions and technology and the Wayne fortune. She would leave good in the world behind her. Martha and Thomas, the people who'd taken her in and raised her, would be proud. Bruce, her little brother who'd been the bravest man she ever knew, would be proud.
Maybe it would be a good death after all.
Lena stumbled through the open construction, threading between exposed I-beams. It wasn't in her to give up, to stop limping forward. She'd locked out her wounded leg, turning the suit rigid so she could hobble on it, and had already hit herself with an adrenaline auto-injector to keep her eyes open. She could make it to the extraction if she just kept moving.
Just keep moving.
As she limped forwards, Lena wondered how she'd get down. One problem at a time. She was in no shape to use a grapple line to get to street level. Keep moving. The pain in her leg was shocking, excruciating. She wondered if the bullet had fractured her femur. Maybe. She'd been hurt before, of course. Bullet to the back that slipped between armor plates and punched through, once, and all the ones that didn't hurt like hell anyway; it was like being pummeled with baseballs.
The display on the inside of her cracked helmet was lit up with warning lights and messages she didn't have time to parse. She knew what some of them were: Corrosive damage to the suit, drained power cells, her vitals plummeting, and the repeating all points bulletins declaring that the Batman was to be arrested on sight for the murder of Jack Napier.
Lena made it to the edge and leaned on a steel beam, looking down. Two blocks over to the extraction point. Alfred would be waiting for her. He'd get her out of the suit, patch her up, make it better. Alfred always made it better. She had to try. She had to try to get back.
Fumbling, she almost tumbled right off the edge until she slumped against the beam, her wounded leg starting to slide out from under her. She had to hug the steel to pull herself back up, prop herself up on the locked armor segments.
No, she wasn't going to make it, she realized. This was it. No heroic last stand, no final sacrifice, just bleeding out in a half-finished bougie apartment complex that had been stripped of all its copper five times. Lena wanted to laugh, but her lungs could only wheeze.
She almost didn't realize it when the half-skeletal building shook from a gust of wind.
No, not a wind. A blur of motion.
Her HUD lit up with proximity alarms, the onboard computers panicking when the sensor systems started failing from lack of power or severe damage. She really wanted to laugh. What now?
Turning, Lena put a hand on the beam to keep herself upright, and sighed.
No amount of preparation, no amount of refinement to her suit, would ever prepare her for this.
The Kryptonian strode across the plywood construction floor, cape majestically billowing behind her. Even in the dark she seemed alive with light, haloing her flawless golden curls and alive in her sky blue eyes, like she brought the sun with her. Her bright blue and red uniform stood in stark contrast against the muted grays, blues, and blacks of Gotham by night. Below them, sirens wailed. Hunters on the prowl for their wounded prey.
"What do you want?" Lena rasped. Her helmet altered her force into a deep growl.
"Batman," said Supergirl, "there's an all points bulletin out for your arrest."
"What else is new?"
Even now, she was the detective, stalling. The helmet's systems were scanning Supergirl's face, matching against her own facial recognition database using algorithms she'd written herself. The suit did all this automatically, so that she had complete files when she returned to the Cave.
"They're saying you killed a man tonight," said Kara. "I'm taking you in."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Lena coughed, the sound exploding in a garbled belch from her damaged helmet.
"You can barely stand," said Supergirl. "That wound in your leg needs medical attention. Just let me help you."
"Help me?" Lena spat, reaching for her belt. "Don't be absurd."
"You're coming with me either way," said Supergirl, edging closer. "Trying to fight me is pointless. You don't stand a chance."
"Want to test that theory?" said Lena.
Supergirl shook her head.
The suit came back with a facial recognition match.
DANVERS, KARA.
Her biographical data began to scroll across Lena's vision. She dismissed it with a laugh.
"It figures," she muttered.
"What?" said Supergirl. She moved closer. "I can hear your heart rate decreasing. I'll take you to a hospital. I promise, you'll get a fair hearing, you just-"
Lena laughed again. "A fair hearing. You must be joking."
Supergirl edged closer. "Wait. You're using a voice changer."
Lena's eyes shot open wide inside her helmet. "How... of course. Superhuman hearing, right?"
"Wait," said Kara, "wait, I know that voice. Lena?"
#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supercorp fanfic#supergirl#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#Bat!Lena#AU#what if the waynes adopted Lena instead
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Ive seen that you’ve talked about having difficulty remembering things, and my sincerest apologies if this ask is in any way overstepping boundaries. My partner has some similar issues, but also struggles with remembering to/getting the motivation to write things down for later. I don’t need any advice for him, because the way he deals with it is obviously up to him, however I wondered whether there’s anything you would recommend me do to A: avoid instances where he doesn’t remember something that I said I or we would be doing and so he hasn’t had time to mentally prepare (such as an event or a social situation), and B: emphasize that the conversation did happen effectively and firmly without making him feel any worse than I have to? Obviously I never want him to feel bad for something that is inherently not within his control, but sometimes the memory issues make communication difficult and or more tense, and I’ve never been quite sure how to minimize their impact on the things I need to do or get done without either micromanaging and constantly reminding him (which takes a toll on me and can feel embarrassing or controlling for him), or simply accepting that I will need to patiently re-explain plans to him every once in a while (which causes me to be stressed out, and him to feel bad). I don’t know where the perfect middle ground is, so any ideas or perspective you can lend to help me understand him better and treat him with the respect and love that he deserves would be great if you are willing.
It really does require some work with both parties because it can be hard to navigate recall problems. I've found it helpful when my girlfriend asks me 'did I have that conversation with you about x?' Because that makes it feel much less like I'm being called out for memory problems and more like a collaborative effort to keep information level.
We used to have one of those big mom calendars in our house so our schedule was public and in an obvious place, but... well, lockdown kind of disrupted that.
Bullet journals have been working for me. It doesn't matter like the order i wrote things down in as long as it's written down.
Really it's just... a lot of effort, willing to try new tactics for memory recall.
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Imagine Chan going crazy at the thought of you wearing sexy underwear for NYE
Content info: Chan loves your red underwear and he's not letting you leave the house before he's shown you exactly how much
Word count: 1785
Warnings: unsafe sex (peeps, please use a condom), dirty talk, use of the words "slut" and "whore", slightly possessive Chan (but then he's a marshmallow again)
"Do we have everything for the party?" You mutter to yourself while going through your bags. You are invited to a New Year's Eve party at Minho's, Jisung's and Hyunjin's place, and because it's a potluck and at least half of your friendship group can't cook for shit, quite a lot of the food preparation has fallen to you.
Chan is leaning against the kitchen counter, helpfully reading your To Do list to you to support you. "Okay, it says 'couscous salad'..."
"Got it." You glance into one of the bags and see that you've packed the bowl already.
Chan shakes his head. "Good luck with making them eat a salad."
You shrug. "I swear to God, Felix needs his vitamins. He still claims yogurt is a fruit."
You boyfriend chuckles and presses a kiss to your temple. "I love how much you're looking out for the boys. Okay... Chocolate mousse?"
"Got it."
"Garlic bread?"
"Yup."
"Pizza toast mixture?"
"Packed."
Chan nods, content. "That's all the food items on the list. There are some other things on here... You want me to read them, too?"
You hum, giving him the go-ahead as you, for good measure, put a bag of crisps into your backpack.
Chan adorable scrunches up his nose. "It says 'do a face mask'?"
"Done, it was a really good one."
"That's why your skin smells like roses." Chan presses another peck to your cheek. "'Organise new bullet journal'?"
You turn around to watch him read. "All done."
Your boyfriend nods to himself but then freezes. "It says... 'Put on special red underwear'?" He quickly looks up, his eyes wide. "Why are you wearing that special set?" He almost sounds whiney. "I thought that was for special occasions!"
You shrug, trying to hide your grin. "It is a special occasion! My Italian grandmother always tells us to wear red underwear on New Year's Eve. Apparently, it's a good luck charm for the next year, especially where love is concerned." You grab the bags, content that you've got everything you need, and make to leave the kitchen.
Chan's hand is suddenly on your wrist, stopping you. "And did you?"
You turn around, glancing first at his hand and then at his face. His expression has turned from good-humoured to... Intense. "Did I what?"
His eyes are already on your breasts where he assumes you're wearing your special underwear under your little black dress. "Did you put it on? The red set?" He pulls you closer, and you find yourself chest to chest with him.
You smirk. "Well, wouldn't you like to know, Channie. Come, we need to go, we're already a bit late."
But Chan doesn't let go. "Let me see, please," he says, his voice quiet, but the energy in the room shifts. Of course you could say no. But this Chan, the one who would literally miss a party just to look at you, is one of your favourite Chans.
You shrug, playing it cool. "Take a look if you want to know so badly."
You didn't expect him to immediately go for it, but he pulls down the neckline of your dress - swiftly, but not in any way that would hurt you (or your dress). And there it is - your beautiful, deep red bra, adorned with lace and tiny beads.
Chan stares for a few seconds, then he growls, "And the matching panties?"
You just nod.
There is something feral on Chan's face as he scoops you up onto the counter and crashes his lips against yours. You drop the bags in the process, hoping nothing breaks for only a second before all thoughts are purged from your mind as Chan's tongue invades your mouth and you moan into him.
He kisses down your throat, bites your clavicle and pushes down your dress even further so he can properly see your bra. He doesn't make to take it off, though, merely slides down the straps so he can half pull your breasts from their confinement. Immediately, Chan moves to suck one of your nipples while his other hand finds its way between your legs. The cloth covering your pussy is already damp, and Chan groans at the feeling. Eagerly, he pushes the tiny piece of fabric to the side and slides two fingers into you. The intrusion is a bit much, but it feels so good, having him want you so badly, knowing he can't resist you, knowing that only the mental image of you wearing something sexy will awaken the wolf in him.
"Fuck," he rasps against your tits. "I need to be inside you now, baby girl."
You whimper at his words and pull him in for another heated kiss, which he gladly gives you. Your hands, so far merely gripping the counter for balance, join his as he blindly tries to open his trousers. This breathless fumbling, clumsy and hurried, is weirdly erotic. It's been ages since you've fucked in the kitchen, and the thrill of it makes you even wetter.
Finally, his trousers are undone, hanging somewhere around his knees, and Chan grips your hips to pull you to the edge of the counter. He raises your skirt so he can see your tiny red panties as he slides his painfully hard cock into you. You groan deeply at the stretch - Chan is always big, but today, he feels huge.
His forehead falls to your throat, and both of you merely breathe heavily for a few seconds. "I don't think I can be gentle and slow," he groans apologetically, and you smile - you have gathered as much from the current setting. "Can I take you hard and fast, baby girl? I promise I'll make you come after - or at the party, if you want, I know you're a little slut who likes being fingered in semi-public settings."
You bite your lip at the suggestion, trying to deny yourself the moan that wants to escape you at the thought of Chan having his fingers inside you in the guest bathroom, pushing you against the sink as he whispers in your ear what a dirty little whore you are. Chan, despite his current state of hyper-arousal, chuckles at your non-answer which is absolutely an answer as he looks up at you. "I knew it."
You roll your eyes. "Just fuck me."
His eyes darken. "Gladly," he says, and the first thrust is enough to rob you of your breath. You cross your ankles behind him, keeping him close, and claw at his shirt-covered shoulders for purchase. God you wish he was shirtless, you love his muscular shoulders. "I'll fuck you so hard you'll only roll your eyes in pleasure, baby girl." His thrusts are hard, calculated, he is trying to still have a grip on himself.
"Wearing underwear like that to a party and not telling me," he growls. "What were you thinking, baby girl? Did you want to tell me there? Have me bend you over in the bathroom so everyone would know who's fucking you good? You little slut. This is my pussy, and I want to know what's covering it. Do. You. Understand?" Each word is accentuated with a particularly hard thrust, and you can hear the oil bottles rattling on the counter behind you. You whimper and nod.
Chan stops his movements. "I said," he purrs dangerously, "Do you understand?"
"Yes, yes," you volunteer hurriedly, "please, Chan, go on, fuck me, I need you to come inside me."
That undoes his calm, and you know it from the way he briefly closes his eyes, whispers, "fuck," and then continues to absolutely rail your pussy, his thrusts hard, fast, but lacking finesse, deliciously sloppy and filled with sheer want.
"Whose pussy is that, YN?" he growls, biting your neck and making you whimper. "Tell me."
"I-It's yours, Channie," you gasp, holding on to his shoulders as he just continuesly pushes into you. "Of course it's yours."
He grasps your chin. "And you better not forget that later at the party. I'll tell you when I want it, and then I'll have it."
You shudder under his intense gaze. "Yes, yes, you can have me, I'm yours," you whine, and his eyes soften. "I love you," he whispers, kissing you briefly, before capturing one of your nipples between his lips again and redoubling his efforts, pouding into you so hard that you can hear the glasses clinking in the cupboards above. You can feel him approaching orgasm, and you whisper dirty nothings to him, about how you'll always be his, how he's so good for you, such a good boy, fucking you so well, better than anyone ever could, and then he's coming with a loud groan, biting down on your neck, eyes shut tightly as he continues to slowly spend himself inside you and then stills.
You are both quiet for a few moments, him catching his breath against you, you sliding a hand in his hair, stroking him tenderly.
"I'll kill you if you get come on these panties," you finally say, and Chan laughs, his high laugh that's not sexy in any way but so entirely Chan you can't help but laugh along. He grabs a piece of kitchen towel before sliding out of you, cleaning you up expertly and then tucking himself back into his trousers.
Chan leans in and kisses your nose. "I love you," he says, before kissing you properly, slowly, lazily. His forehead pressed against yours, he straightens your dress again and finally helps you off the counter.
Glancing at the kitchen clock, you sigh. "I love you too. And we're so super late. And if that sting in my neck is anything to go by, there are at least two lovebites blooming there." You catch your reflection in the glass cabinet and see your fears confirmed. "You are utterly ridiculous, my love," you conclude, sighing again.
Your boyfriend slides his arms around your waist, cheek pressed against yours as he also inspects his work. "I take no responsibility. You demand to be fucked when you're wearing that. I can't promise I'll make it through the night without having to get you alone somewhere."
You shake your head. "I'll go get changed. You are a menace."
Once again, Chan catches your wrist. "Don't you dare," he growls, part of his arousal back in his eyes. "This will make the party all the more interesting."
"Chan, they'll never invite us again if you're gonna be horny all night," you protest.
He grins and shakes his head as his hand slides under your dress, cupping your scantily clad bum. "They have to. You made all the food."
#author hare#tortoise: ooooooffff that was GOOD - apart from the smutty goodness i had to laugh at the dig at felix lol#bang chan smut#bang chan hard hours#bang chan smut on new years eve#bang chan x yn#bang chan x reader#skz smut#skz imagine#bang chan imagine
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end of the year study masterlist
I have made this kind of post a few times in the past. I have lots to keep in mind and although I do have very specific to-do lists in my bullet journal I like to have a big list on here too to make me feel accountable. This helps me having a clear overview of everything I have to do and the progress I am making. I will be crossing things off as I complete tasks, and I will probably add more tasks every once in a while. This is meant to be a sort of preparation for winter exams to do list, I haven't given myself deadlines yet, but the more I get done soon the better. I also want to keep in mind that I am still doing the self care journey 3.0 with my friend @oneardentstudybuddy, so productivity is the goal here but I still need to keep an eye out to avoid burning myself out, and take time in my days to actively take care of myself.
English lit: this whole list has now been deleated because I decided to move my exam from January to April, so I will be working on all this stuff after my winter exam session.
History of enlightment philosophy:
finish attending lectures (and stay on track with fixing my notes everyday)
additional post-holiday lectures 1, 2, 3, 4
finish reading book #2
read book #3 (since it's digital see if I need to write down some notes while reading it)
reread important passages in books (1,2,3)
notes of the main points of each book (1,2,3)
highlight presentation notes
big reread of all notes
list of key words
review out loud (1,2)
practice answering exam questions out loud
Power practices and men theories in the modern era:
reread and highlight lecture notes
fix notes by adding the infos I originally annotated on the texts
read and annotate book (intro, ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9)
write down list of key words
review out loud (1, 2, 3)
make sure to check all the images and pictures that were discussed in the lectures because they could come up during the exam
guest lecture stuff:
brain dump
get back all my thesis diaries and other tumblr posts where I talk about my experiece in detail to see if there's useful elements to talk about
guide lines to have a coherent speech
rehearse or smt idk
#this post will be heavily edited in the next while but it's kinda scary already and i feel like i forgot about smt#but you know what? finally having a good overview of everything makes me feel much calmer and more motivated#the main reason i want a digital list of my to dos here is the satisfaction of crossing everything out but also#since this blog is a sort of journey for me it's nice to be able to look back at what i did etc#wish me luck#winter exams study masterlist#study masterlist#to do list#uni masterlist#studyblr#studyinspo#uniblr#univeristy#student life#studying#mine#the---hermit
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On November 8th 1820, Claire Clairmont wrote some satirical stories in her journal about Lord Byron and Percy Shelley—they were written as ideas for caricatures (the Regency era term for what we would now call editorial cartoons or comic strips):
Wednesday, November 8th.
Caricature for Albé. He, sitting writing poetry, the words “Oh! faithless Woman” round the room, hearts are strewed, inscribed, “We died for love of you.” Another—he catching a lady by her waist, his face turned towards her, his other hand extended holding a club stick in the act of giving a blow to a man who is escaping. From his mouth,
“The maid I love, the man I hate
I'll kiss her lips and break his Pate.”
Three more to be called Lord Byron's Morning, Noon and Night. The first: he looking at the sky, a sun brightly shining—saying: "Come, I feel quite bold and cheerful—there is no God.”
The second towards evening, a grey tint spread over the face of Nature, the sun behind a cloud—a shower of rain falling—a dinner table in the distance covered with a profusion of dishes, he (with a Wallup) says—“What a change I feel in me after dinner; where we see design we suppose a designer; I'll be a Deist—I am a Deist."
The third—evening—candles just lighted, all dark without the windows (a cup of green tea on the table): and trees agitated much by wind beating against the panes, also thunder and lightning. He says
"God bless me, suppose there should be a God—it is as well to stand in his good graces. I'll say my prayers to-night, and write to Murray to put in a touch concerning the blowing of the last Trump."
Pistols are on the table, also daggers—bullets—Turkish scymitars . . .
Another to be called “Lord Byron's receipt for writing pathetic History.” He sitting drinking spirits, playing with his white mustachios. His mistress, the Fornaria, opposite him drinking coffee. Fumes coming from her mouth, over which is written "garlich;" these, curling, direct themselves towards his English footman who is just then entering the room and he is knocked backward. Lord B. is writing, he says.
"Imprimis, to be a great pathetic poet. First prepare a small colony, then dispatch the Mother, by worrying and cruelty, to her grave; afterwards to neglect and ill-treat the children—to have as many and as dirty mistresses as can be found; from their embraces to catch horrible diseases, thus a tolerable quantity of discontent and remorse being prepared, give it vent on paper, and to remember particularly to rail against learned women. This is my infallible receipt by which I have made so much money."
The last his death. He dead extended on his bed, covered all but his breast, which many wigged doctors are cutting open to find out (as one may be saying) what was the extraordinary disease of which this great man died—His heart laid bare, they find an immense capital “I” grown on its surface—and which has begun to pierce the breast—They are all astonishment. One says, “a new disease.” Another. “I never had a case of this kind before.” A third what medicines would have been proper, the fourth holding up his finger (A desert island.)
Caricature for poor dear S. He looking very sweet and smiling. A little Jesus Christ playing about the room. He says:
“Then grasping a small knife and looking mild
I will quietly murder that little child.”
Another. Himself and God Almighty. He says:
"If you please God Almighty, I had rather be damned with Plato and Lord Bacon than go to Heaven with Paley and Malthus." God Almighty: “It shall be as you please, pray don't stand upon ceremony."
Shelley's three aversions: God Almighty, Lord Chancellor, and didactic Poetry . . .
Sources: The Journals of Claire Clairmont edited by Marion Kingston Stocking, Harvard, 1968, Archive.org. “The Lord Byron / John Polidori relationship and the foundation of the early nineteenth-century literary vampire” by Matthew Beresford, University of Hertfordshire June 2019. Byron: A Biography by Marchand, Vol. II, 1957.
#thus a tolerable quantity of discontent and remorse being prepared#literature#regency#regency era#claire clairmont#percy shelley#lord byron#journals#funny#history#writing#poets#writers#satire#geneva squad#the romantics#romantic age#romanticism#romantic poetry#romantic era
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