#girl from that class that she should have written more (she only wrote that one sentence that answered his question).

[scentofpines]

i have a course where we have to send a homework to the prof by e-mail every week and then we get a short feedback from him. last week i didn't get any feedback so i asked him briefly during this week's homework whether he got my mail. now the dude said he didn't get it and “in dubio pro reo”, i'm allowed to “miss” class twice anyway like in face-to-face seminars and maybe it's in his spam folder. and like??? there is no fucking “dubio”. the mail is in my sent-folder. it was sent. i didnt "miss” class. if you think it could be in your spam folder…then..…just check if it is?????? bro how am i supposed to make sure now that he gets my homework in the future?? just check your spam regularly like normal ppl. boy i hate incompetence

[amuyyi]

warm enough .

synopsis; recovering from an expected breakup, you find yourself drunk at a nearby bar, encountering an unfamiliar girl who happens to know your ex.

trope; non idol!ningning x fem!reader, uni au, fluff, a little angst, a little suggestive, strangers to lovers, feat. kep1er members :3

wc; 4.8k

cw; a little suggestive but not really

a/n; fun fact this happened to me irl ! figured i could use my experiences for stories ! everything from the breakup to the bar kiss is based on my personal experience so lol have fun. also its kinda poorly written because i wrote some of it while on the plane + in china while being very tired and i dont feel like proofreading so im sorry ^^'

The breakup was supposed to be a mutual thing. A smooth and easy agreement between you and Jimin. You guys met in a cafe when your soon-to-be-ex girlfriend finally dropped the bomb on you. 

“I still care a lot about you, y/n. But I want to focus on myself and my future… I think you should too.”

You wanted to speak up, say that you didn’t want to let go yet. Just… hold on for a little longer. Maybe it’d get better if you guys just kept it going for another week. Another month. Another day?

 “What I’m trying to say is…”

You always hated this part.

“I think we should break up.”

Despite the older girl being the one to initiate the ending of the relationship, you always knew it was coming. Jimin was sweet, and you definitely did enjoy the little dates you guys had been on through the past year, but there was something missing. Every time she looked at you, it seemed like she was looking through your eyes into her own. Her mind was always elsewhere whenever you two were together, like she was searching for something you couldn’t provide. She never seemed to smile around you, never laughed loudly or hugged you with warmth. 

You really tried to be the person for her, you really did; but it was apparent that she was trying to convince herself you were the one as well.

It was shown in the way she bought you endless gifts with things you said you wanted, but never kissed you, In the way she would allow you to hold her hand, but never reached out herself, how she couldn’t bring herself to say “I love you” out loud. Jimin was cold.

You agreed that this was the best path to take, how you felt the exact same way and that it would be good for the both of you, but the tears that nonconsensually left your eyes said otherwise. You still remember the last words you told her before you got up to leave.

“I really hoped it was you.”

There's a saying or the other. “Your body will know if someone is right for you.” You came across it while aimlessly scrolling on social media once, and you thought it was an interesting but ridiculous concept. Countless people would share stories about how their hair would fall out or how they would break out into horrible acne when they were with their past partners, only being relieved from this when single or with their “match.”

It was funny, and you didn’t believe one bit of it until it actually happened. The tightness in your chest that followed you every time you two went out together, the stress of wondering if she actually enjoyed her company, the way you couldn’t truly relax in her presence– it all went away. It all left when she walked out of your life, and you’ve never felt more at peace with a decision. At least, for a little bit.

The breakup was the easy part. It was the recovery that ruined you.

You were the one to establish a rule of no contact, even after you both expressed wanting to stay in touch. It was your only way to hold on to the last sliver of pride you had left after spending a year chasing after Yu Jimin. The rule was established to allow you some time to heal, and you hoped to return to the girl as friends once you felt ready.

With this in mind, you then proceeded to spend a month barely eating, barely sleeping, and not leaving your apartment unless you needed to for classes. It was difficult to be on your own after dedicating so much time to her, falling behind, hoping that she would see you the way you saw her; but after about a month, you slowly felt yourself regaining your footing.

You started going out again, talking with your roommate, taking time to actually care for yourself. It was nice. Perhaps your progress would have left you comfortable enough to move on if you didn’t decide to go out that day.

There she was. Yu Jimin. After an exact 31 days of no contact with her, you finally cross paths. Quite literally, at that– but she wasn’t alone. There was a girl on her arm. She was pretty. Blonde with bobbed hair and a soft smile that made it impossible to hate her. Jimin was smiling too. This is the first time you’ve seen her smile like that, smiling as if she found what she was looking for after all of this time. She doesn't look past her. She sees her.

Jimin holds the other girl by the small of her waist the way she used to do with you, and she kisses her. She kissed her. Just like how she used to kiss you, but not exactly. There's love in her eyes. A warmth you’ve never seen before. In her eyes, there is certainty.

And that was the day your world came crashing down on top of you.

You tried to act normal as you walked past. You really did. Your eyes remain glued to your phone as your knuckles turn white. Her eyes didn’t even meet yours as you walked by. Why wouldn't she look at you? Maybe she's wondering why you won't look at her. That must be it. You hold your breath. As soon as she passed by, you couldn’t help yourself. You made the mistake of looking back.

…Nothing.

As soon as Jimin was out of sight, you cried. You ran home, scaring half the life out of your poor roommate, Xiaoting, as you collapsed in your bed. Everything hurts. Why did it hurt? You wanted this. You felt better without her— the tightness in your chest was gone. 

Instead, it was replaced by an indescribably painful ache. One that felt so deep within your soul it would never heal. Quietly entering your room, Xiaoting says nothing as she sits next to your limp body on the bed, rubbing your back comfortingly. The gesture only makes you sob even harder. 

She's been with you through it all. From the beginning of your relationship with Jimin till the end, she was there. Xiaoting really was a good friend.

From then on, Xiaoting’s one goal was simple: cheer you up. She would cook at least once for you every day despite not being the best chef, and she would allow you to rant about the same things over and over no matter how overbearing it got. Honestly, you started to feel a little bad. She shouldn’t have to bend over backwards for you just because you’re a little sad.

So when Xiaoting announces that you will be joining her at the bar with her friends tonight, you couldn't say no. Both because she stated it, not asked you, and that it simply was the least you could do for her. Especially after everything she’s done for you. Before you knew it, you were dressed up in your best (slutty) corset top and cargo pants with some hoops and over exaggerated makeup to accent the look. Xiaoting, as your best roommate and friend, matches with you, and you two make a big scene out of getting ready together; blasting music, doing each other's hair, borrowing each other's clothes, and more.

Xiaoting’s girlfriend Yujin had made herself at home for the pregame, and your mutual friend Hikaru soon followed. With Xiaoting as designated bartender, the four of you mingle, laughing and cracking jokes as the warmth of the alcohol and one another’s presence left you with a warming buzz. Xiaoting was an excellent mixer, and in combination with the chasers Hikaru bought and the drinking games Yujin proposed, you were all ready to go. 

Xiaoting and Yujin led the way, hand in hand as you and Hikaru trailed behind, drunkenly singing into the cold night air as you trek to the nearest bar.

Being a Friday night, the establishment had been as packed as expected, and you all squeezed your way past other visitors as you’re guided to a nearby table. Xiaoting starts off strong, ordering shots for the entire group before utilizing her combined charm alongside her girlfriend’s looks to convince guys to purchase drinks for everyone as well. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way the duo would bat their eyelashes innocently at lone men for drinks– but at least it worked.

Lazily, your eyes wander through the crowd, the alcohol in your system making it a struggle to see straight. Despite your inability to see properly, you still manage to catch a glimpse of your friends from the corner of your eye, and easily spot Yujin attempting to very publicly make out with Xiaoting as Hikaru struggles to pull her away. You stifle a laugh at the sight, and decide to leave the three to their antics whilst you look for someone to talk to.

It's been a while since you last struck up a conversation with a stranger. The last time you had put yourself out there was before you met… 

You shake your head. No. You are not letting your stupid ex ruin your night. Knitting your brows in concentration, you scan the bar. There were plenty of pretty girls to talk to, but you were feeling a little intimidated. Almost all of them came with at least one other person, and you didn’t want to intrude on anything…

 Your eyes landed on a lone blonde at the end of the table, scrolling through her phone with alcohol flushed cheeks. She seemed approachable. Worst case scenario, she simply shoos you off. Taking a deep breath, you approach the blonde, deciding to pull out your best conversation starter.

“Are you chinese? You look chinese!!” You exclaim, suddenly switching to mandarin in the middle of your sentence as you ask the question. Smooth.

The blonde girl looks as if she would’ve been extremely offended at the comment if you didn't just speak to her in her native tongue halfway through your sentence, and she quirks a brow at you, an amused smirk on her lips as she leans against the bar. 

“Yeah, I am! What's a cutie like you doing in a place like this alone??” 

You feel your heart begin to race. So far so good. “I'm not alone!!! My friends are just busy making out with each other and the other is trying to stop them!!” You also lean on the bar, though not as alluring as the blonde before you. More like you partially collapsed and partially slid on it.

She chortles at your response, “well that's not fair to you, leaving you here all alone.”

The sweet and somewhat sultry tone of the blonde makes (non alcohol induced) blush appear on your face as you laugh, “it really isn't! But whatever! My name is y/n by the way!! What's yours??” You scream over the music, sticking your hand out. It was an unexpectedly polite gesture considering your circumstances, and perhaps it may have seemed a bit comical as well with how drunk you were.

She giggles at the response, grabbing your hand then pulling you in, her lips dangerously close to your ear as she yells over the music, “Ning Yizhuo. But call me Ningning! It's cuter!”

You grin. Ningning was a cute nickname. You decided at this very moment you could trust this cute stranger with your life story and personal information she didn’t ask for, and begin to slur out.

“My friends dragged me out here because I was sad over my ex who moved on from me a month after the breakup even though we dated for a year and she's a big jerk for that even though I wish only the best for her but also I hope she dies!!!”

None of the words you spoke just now came out clear, and they seemed to trip over one another when leaving your mouth, but it was enough for the other girl to go from extremely relaxed to suddenly very heated. She stands up straight as her eyebrows knit together.

“To be honest I don’t think she ever really liked me in the first place! I don’t know!! Whatever it doesn’t matter!!!” You continue on, sounding absolutely pathetic as you let yourself feel through the anger you didn’t even know you were repressing, “I was stupid to stay with someone who couldn’t even look me in the eye when saying she loved me!! She was stupid to do the same!! Whatever!! I don’t know!!”

Ningning cuts you off with a raised hand before you can continue, “what the hell?! I hate people like that!!  You're wayyyy too hot to be treated that way! Who is she? What's her name?? I might know her!!”

Against your better drunken judgment, you decide to name drop your ex within a university bar. Because that is always a good idea. “Yu Jimin!! She's a engineering major !!!”

Ningning’s jaw drops as she stares at you, almost as if she were trying to find the correct words for what she has to say next.

“Girl, I know her !!!” She screams out after a brief moment of silence,  “we shared a class together once!! Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't know she was like that!! You deserve BETTER!” 

Before you could even think of what to say in reaction to that heavy load of information, Ningning grabs your face, pulling you into a kiss. It was a very messy one, her lips almost missing your own during the exchange. Seems like she's not entirely sober either. 

Still, even in your drunken state you knew what to do. Your hands immediately find Ningnings hair as you pull her in closer, and you can feel her smiling as she grazes her tongue over the bottom of your lip. 

You open your mouth to let her in and the only thing that you can think of or even feel for that matter is Ningning and her tongue. She… was really good at this. Jimin never kissed you like this before. Her hands trail down your back to your ass before she squeezes it, smirking when you squirm against her touch.

She breaks the kiss, her face inches away from yours as she breathes out, “you deserve so much better…” Ningning gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping back, taking in her work with a devilish glint in her eyes. You stare at her dumbfounded for a moment before whipping out your phone, fully talking in your appearance. Your hair and makeup were a wreck. How did all of that happen just now?

“Done by yours truly~” Ningning winks at you, quickly slipping your phone out of your hand and typing something in.

“Wh— Wait what are you doing?”

“Giving you my number, obviously. My girls are gonna wonder where I went.” She hands back your phone and looks at you with soft eyes through her drunken daze. 

“Take care of yourself, yeah?” Ningning kisses you one last time, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go. She disappears into the crowd of partygoers, a sly fox-like grin on her face.

“There you are!” 

You feel an arm land on your shoulder as you jump, twirling around and looking down to see a drunk Hikaru with a slightly less drunk Xiaoting and an absolutely hammered Yujin on her side.

“We should probably head back home!” Xiaoting screams into your ear, “Hikaru’s gonna knock out on the couch and Yujin will be with me!”

Her words barely make it through to you, the music and the alcohol and the adrenaline within your system muffling out every word spoken. Regardless, you still nod and trail behind your friends as you leave, not all too sure what just happened.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You lay in bed, eyes practically burning holes into the new contact in your phone. “宁宁<3” is what it said. 

So last night wasn’t just a dream. You really did just get a girl's number by doing nothing but spilling your secrets to a stranger. On top of all of that, your head was absolutely killing you, you swore you could feel your heartbeat within your brain. Still, that wasn’t important. Biting your lip, your fingers hover over the contact name. Should you message her? 

y/n [10:59]  — hey !! its y/n, the girl from the bar

y/n [10:59]  — thanks for keeping me company last night :)

ningning [11:06]  — i was wondering if u were gonna text me back

ningning [11:06] — and of course <3 jimin doesn’t know what she lost

y/n [11:08] — haha im flattered

y/n [11:08]  — but u barely know me??

ningning [11:11]  — that can change xx

Your eyes widen as you reread the text over and over again. Is she implying what you think she's implying? What if she's just being friendly? Can you even platonically make out with someone at the bar?

y/n [11:16] — are u asking me out on a date ning yizhuo ?

You wait. 

Oh god. What if she was just being friendly?

ningning [11:18]  — only if youll have me 

You feel yourself blush at her message, burying your face into your pillow as you squeal like a high school teenager in love. It was embarrassing in hindsight, but.. it felt nice to be wanted. 

y/n [11:19] —  of course

ningning [11:19] — perfect <3 

ningning [11:20] — dinner at my place tonight then? 

ningning [11:20] — If youre not too hungover.. 

ningning [11:20] — i got the best hangover cures ;)

you can't help but arch your eyebrow at the winky face she added at the end but brushed it off, more focused on the fact that your drunk hatred towards your ex landed you a date. 

You scramble to your feet and (metaphorically) kick down Xiaoting’s door, abruptly waking the girl from her nap as she screams out, “WO CAO!” She places a hand over her heart as she bolts up within her bed, immediately letting out a sigh of relief when she realizes it was just you. 

“Girl what the HELL is wrong with you?!” She hisses, laying back down and throwing the blanket over her head.

You, being the ever loving and best roommate ever, respond to this by jumping into bed with (on top of) the redhead and squeezing her as tight as you can while screaming “I HAVE A DATE!!!”

Xiaoting shoots back up, your arms still latched onto her torso as she looks down at you, eyes wide. “Wait, are you serious?”

You hear a low groan and a hand slapping your arm as you roll your eyes, slapping the arm back as the voice of Yujin grumbles out and shuffles deeper within the sheets.

Both you and Xiaoting look at one another and giggle before she quietly slips out of bed, quickly placing a kiss on Yujins head before grabbing your arm and leading you out of her room. Once outside, she firmly grasps your shoulders. 

“Okay, now tell me everything.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You nervously stand outside of Ningnings apartment, bag clutched in hand as you look back behind you. Xiaoting sat within her car on the side of the road, keeping an eye on you to make sure this girl wasn’t going to kidnap you or the other.

The two of you (and soon enough Yujin and Hikaru) had spent the day giving you pointers on how to go about the date. They had thrown an ungodly amount of clothes your way as well as telling you endless conversation starters and compliments to give another person. By the end of it all your head was overflowing with information that you were going to forget as soon as you head out the door, and all of your closet was sprawled on your bedroom floor and in the living room. Still, the girls seemed quite proud of their work.

All of you had consecutively agreed on an outfit that was nice, but not too nice. You wore a plaid skirt paired with a simple tank top and an off the shoulder cardigan.

Holding your breath, you ring the doorbell. You really hoped this wasn’t a mistake. When was the last time you were actually on a date with someone? You couldn't remember. After a few moments of silence, you hear shuffling followed by the door unlocking and Ningning poking her head out shyly. Her eyes light up at the sight of you before opening the door completely, revealing her outfit.

She wore an oversized plaid button up, unintentionally matching with your skirt alongside baggy jeans and some bunny slippers you thought were incredibly cute. Her hair was tied up in a messy but charming bun, held up by a hair stick with small gemstones dangling from the end.

This Ningning was completely different from the one you had met at the bar last night. Though, you suppose you were a different person now as well.

“You're here! Come in come in!” She grabs your hand and guides you inside. Flustered, you spare a quick glance behind you, and you can spot the silhouette of Xiaoting throwing a thumbs up from her car before Ningning closes the door behind you.

“You look gorgeous today, by the way,” Ningning compliments, her thumb rubbing over your fingers as she walks you through her apartment. The gesture makes your cheeks warm, and you find yourself easing into her touch like putty. It was a touch that was loving. Kind. Intentional. 

Her home was cozy, with white walls paired alongside warm lighting and paintings and other wall art lining the interior. There was an appetizing aroma that wafted through the air, and you had remembered that Ningning had offered to cook for you.

“What have you prepared for us tonight, chef Ningning?” You ask, squeezing her hand as she grins, “Well it's not much, I'm not a really good cook but I decided to make us some dumplings! A little basic, but it's the only dish I feel like I’ve actually perfected.”

“I hope this is the hangover cure you mentioned” you comment lightheartedly, and you sense a playful energy in the way she looks back at you.

“You'll find out soon enough.”

You once again find yourself quirking a brow at her vague answers, but she simply smiles at you innocently and you find yourself smiling back. It was hard to not be amused by her.

Ningning guides you to the kitchen, which was cleaned perfectly for your arrival. On the center of the table were multiple bamboo steamer baskets, as well as a large tea pot and a simple glass bottle with various native wildflowers as a centerpiece. 

The other girl pulls out a chair for you, and you teasing grin at the polite gesture, “how romantic, Ninging~”

She rolls her eyes and giggles before settling down herself, instantaneously pouring you a cup of tea as she gestures at the baskets, “go on, dig in. I’ll be personally offended if you don’t.”

Chuckling, you open up the baskets, releasing clouds of steam before revealing multiple handmade dumplings with various fillings and differing folding styles. Your eyes widen, and you simply comment, “wow,” before taking the first bite of the food.

To say that it tasted amazing was an understatement– you practically felt like you were thrown back to the motherland with a single bite, and it wasn’t long before you were filling your plate with more.

The two of you had spent the rest of the evening getting to know one another more. You had learned she was a computer science major and going onto her third year of uni, as well as the fact she was from Harbing whilst you shared that you were from Shanghai. 

“Big city girl, huh?” Ningning amusedly comments, sipping on her tea as you roll your eyes, “yeah… But I'm not rich or anything before you ask.”

The blonde feigns rejection as she snaps her fingers, “damn. I was gonna ask you to buy drinks next time we head to the bars, I think you owe me. ” She smiles at you, and it's warm.

You liked this. You liked how easy it was to talk to her. It was never this easy before.

Soon enough you had ended up on Ningning’s couch, browsing through movies aimlessly as the hefty meal threatened to send you into a food coma. The blonde lay comfortably in your arms underneath a blanket, her eyes occasionally fluttering shut as you continued to search for something to watch.

“Hmm, what about… Velocipastor?” The name completely throws you off guard, prompting you to click on it, skimming over the description as you feel the vibration of Ninging lazily humming beneath you. 

“Oh that movie is really good, trust me.”

“... Really? Are you sure, Ning?”

“Yeah yeah…” Her eyes were already shut as she spoke, nuzzling in closer to you as you chuckle, putting on the movie as you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in closer. 

Honestly, the movie seemed to be an excuse for the girl to be physically close to you– maybe get a nap in? You weren’t even sure if she was watching the movie at this point. Still, maybe it was for the best. Velocipastor was definitely not well funded within its production, that much could be seen. Plus, you couldn't complain about having a cute girl in your arms.

“Does your head still hurt?”

Ningning’s soft voice rings out, startling you. Honestly, you were getting pretty invested in the film, you had thought she already fell asleep.

“Mmm, a little. I don’t think your hangover cure worked.”

“Oh, the dumplings weren’t the cure.”

Your head cocks to the side as you tear your gaze away from the tv screen, looking down at the girl nestled on your chest as she looks back up at you. There was that all too familiar glint in her eyes again.

“Then what is?”

A mischievous grin curls on her lips before she leans in, connecting her lips with yours. Still a bit sluggish from the night before alongside a hefty meal, her kissing was a bit sloppy, but it was soft. Much softer than before.

You feel yourself almost immediately sigh into the kiss, and you would have found it embarrassing if she didnt guide her hand up your chest, to your neck, and into your hair, soon deepening the kiss. 

Not expecting things to escalate so soon, you couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper as your hands landed on her hips, nails digging into her sides desperately as she laughs against your lips, pulling back. 

“You’re really cute, y’know?” She purrs, using her hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and you can see the hint of pink spread across her lips as she smiles, drinking in the sight of you.

Before you even have a chance to respond, Ningning tackles your jawline, trailing kisses down your face and onto your neck. You try to respond, but when she starts to nip the side of your neck, the words you wanted to say somehow managed to melt into complete mush.

“Mmhmmhgh…” 

The sound that escapes your lips allows you the chance to actually feel embarrassed, and you slam a hand over your lips, looking away from Ninging. Your response elicits another laugh from the blonde, and you swear you could listen to the sound forever. 

Her symphony soon quiets though, and Ningning looks you straight in the eye, her gaze softening as she opens her mouth, struggling to find the right words to say.

“Look, I know we just met…” she trails off for a moment, almost a bit shy to continue, “but if you want to give me a chance and see where this goes, I promise I’ll treat you so well.” 

Her eyes are filled with genuine desire for you, and you couldn’t help but feel… Isolated? Targetted? For the first time you feel like you’re seen, and you don’t know what to do about it.

She presses on, “I’d really like to see you again, and I know you’re going through a lot right now but I want to be there with you every step of the way. I want to see where this takes us.”

“I want you, y/n.”

Your face heats up instantaneously, and you swear your eyes were threatening to bulge out of your skull right then and there. You look at her in silence as you struggle to find your words, and after a few seconds you finally croak out,

“I… I want to see where this takes us too, Ningning.”

Her eyes brighten at your response, and she beams, pulling you into a tight hug on the couch before interlocking her lips with yours once again. You giggle into the kiss, and throw the blanket over the two of you as the movie on the tv buzzed on. For the first time, you found someone warm enough for you.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P6

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding from the nose.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5- -Part 7-

=

Harry peeled open the pages of the diary, it was half blank-with loads of notes in the first half-all retaining to the classes that Hogwarts offered. “Defense against the dark arts, Charms, Transfiguration,” Harry muttered under his breath as he flipped through the sections of notes.

It was like looking through Hermione's notes folder-everything sectioned off and dated.

“it’s just a diary being used as a notebook Harry, it’s clearly nothing special,” Ron said as they walked to the hospital wing to see Hermione, who was still recovering from the Polyjuice cat incident.

Harry only hummed in response, for some reason he felt the diary was far more than it seemed-even though all that was written in it was notes and silly doodles. He liked the one of the greasy Snape- even the Slytherin girl this book belonged to didn’t like Snape.

“You should give it back to her Harry, it might not have her name clearly its hers, has her name on the front page and everything.” Hermione said quietly as they visited her in the hospital wing, Hermione tapping the first page that had the Slytherin girls name in ink-right below T.M.Riddle's name that was also written in ink.

“Yeah, but the back says it belongs to Tom Riddle, which Ron says has a trophy about some-great thing he did for the school 50 years ago,” Harry said, Hermione snatching the book from him-grabbing her wand from her bag.

“Then maybe he wrote something down in here about the last time the chamber was opened-“ Hermione said and Harry quickly caught up with what she’d realized, eagerly leaning over her shoulder to watch her tap her wand on the diary thrice. “Aparecium!”

When nothing happened, Hermione huffed, grabbing a red eraser from her bag. “It’s a revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,” Hermione said when Harry gave her a quizzical look. She rubbed the eraser hard on one of the blank pages, but nothing happened, and Hermione huffed.

“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to find in there,” Ron said, crossing his arms. “Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered to keep it, and that Slytherin girl got it 2nd hand.”

-

Harry couldn’t explain why he hadn’t given the diary/notebook back to the Slytherin girl, even after she’d left the hospital wing, he’d overheard Madam Pomfrey tell her to take it easy as the stress from NEWTS and the chamber had made her body go into overdrive.

Harry thought how the girl looked when he’d found her in the bathroom was far worse than stress-she almost looked like she was dying.

He shook the thought out of his head, remembering the haunting look in the girl’s eyes when she’d looked at him, he looked back down at the diary in his hands, letting the blank pages flutter in his hand.

Earlier-Lockhart had hired all those ‘cupid’ dwarves and one had cornered him, singing a crude poem to him from Ginny Weasley, in the process, his book bag had ripped, and ink had gotten everywhere-including the diary.

And yet, the diary had no trace of ink on it, unlike the rest of his books, instead the only thing that remained was the notes. Harry frowned in thought-opening the diary to a blank page and dipping his quill, letting a blot of ink drop onto the page.

After a moment-it sunk into page-leaving not a trace of ink.

And then-before his very eyes-new words began to appear.

‘(y/n)?’

Harry’s eyes went wide, and he nearly jumped out of his chair to go show Ron and Hermione, but instead dipped his quill again.

“I’m sorry no, my names Harry Potter.”

There was a moment before the response but eventually the neat scrawl of the diary appeared.

‘Hello Harry potter. My name is Tom Riddle, how did you come upon my diary?’

Those words began to fade just as Harry had re-dipped his quill and hurriedly wrote back.

“The girl who had it had a seizure or something, she dropped it and I picked it up,”

His words faded and very quickly Tom wrote back to him-almost hurried.

‘(y/n). is she okay?’

“She is, she just got out of the hospital wing, madam Pomfrey said it was from stress.”

‘Very good. Why are you keeping my diary, Harry Potter?’

“I was wondering if you knew anything about the chamber of secrets?”

-

(y/n) practically tore her room apart, looking for Tom’s diary. “well-when did you last have it?” her roommate/friend asked, watching from her bed concerned as (y/n) flipped over her mattress.

“I don’t know! Uhgh-the bathroom, I think? I got all dizzy n shit and the last thing I remember before passing out as throwing my bag to the floor.” (y/n) huffed, tapping her finger in frustration on her bedpost.

“Maybe it’s still in the bathroom then? It could’ve been washed into one of the stalls with all that flooding from moaning myrtle?” her roommate suggested and (y/n) had to concede she might be right.

God Tom was going to be so pissed at her for letting him stew in toilet water for so many days, she’d have to get him more good ink or something to make up for it.

However, the diary wasn’t there.

“Myrtle?” (y/n) asked gently, looking up at the floating ghost girl, who stared at her. “Did my books happen to be picked up when I fell in here last week?”

Myrtle tilted her head in thought and nodded. “Oh yes, Harry Potter picked up that little black book,” Myrtle said faintly, before going back to moaning and groaning about death. (y/n) thanked her and left the bathroom, looking to find potter to see if he’d kept her/Tom’s diary by accident.

She found him and his friends walking through the courtyard, talking about…the chamber of secrets? “Hagrid opened the chamber of secrets 50 years ago,” Harry said quietly to Ron and Hermione.

“Riddle-” That got (y/n)’s attention, had Harry really kept the diary and written in it? Thank god all of hers and Tom’s conversations didn’t stay in the diary, only keeping the notes he rewrote for her. “-might have the wrong person,” said Hermione. “Maybe is some other monster that was attacking people…”

“How many monsters d’you think this place can hold?” Ron asked rhetorically, (y/n) following close behind, hoping to get the diary back from Potter, she felt weird without it, like something was missing.

Merlin maybe she was getting way too attached to Tom.

“We always knew Hagrid had been expelled,” said Harry miserably, “and the attacks must’ve stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn’t have got his award.”

What sort’ve hero stories was the nerd telling the 12-year-olds???

She decided to interrupt their little chat about Tom, the chamber, and Hagrid-wanting the diary back.

“Hello,” she said softly, waving to the three, looking down at them as they froze and turned to face her, though relaxed when they saw it was only her-the girl who had the diary before Harry. “Sorry to interrupt you, but it was brought to my attention that you might still have my notebook? It’s a black leather-bound book with the name Tom Riddle on the back? It has all my notes for the upcoming exams on it and I need it before they start.”

Harry nodded jankily, but didn’t reach into his bag for it. “Uh-yeah, uh, did you know it could write back?” (y/n) tilted her head but nodded.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a personality enchantment, very rare advanced magic.” (y/n) said casually, just wanting the diary back and not to converse with the three for much longer.

“Did he tell you anything about the chamber of secrets?” Harry asked, remembering Riddle's concern for (y/n) and near demands, to be returned to her.

(y/n) shook her head, having never asked. “No, never asked, but he is tutoring me for defense against the dark arts, since Lockhart is… Lockhart.” (y/n) said with a scrunch of her nose and Hermione looked to have half a mind to scold her while the boys just smiled, glad to finally have met a girl who thought Lockhart was just as stupid as they thought he was.

(y/n) just huffed, crossing her arms. “Could I have the diary back? I really do need those notes,” (y/n) asked again and Harry nodded, telling her he was keeping it up in his dorm room and he’d pass it back to her later. She narrowed her eyes a bit, feeling an odd flare of frustration and possessiveness at him for keeping the diary for even longer but pushed it down.

“Thanks,” She said, giving the three a short wave-turning on her heel and heading for her next class.

-

Hours later, almost dinner, she finally got the diary back, Harry handing it back to her-quite reluctantly might she add-but (y/n) didn’t care, clutching the diary close to her side as she thanked Harry and turned to go back to her dorm, moving the diary from her side to her chest.

It felt like a hug as she held it.

She sighed in relief as she stepped into her dorm, pressing her back against the door to close it, letting her head drop to her chest slightly, clutching the diary to her chest.

She really didn’t know why she was attached to the diary/Tom so much, when she didn’t have it/him on hand, it felt…odd, like something important was missing.

(y/n) hopped onto her bed and flipped open the diary, glad to see all the notes Tom had rewritten for her still there. She grabbed her quill and opened her ink well, dipping the tip before pressing it to the page.

“sorry for dropping you in the bathroom :s”

‘(y/n)?’

“yeah, I had some sort of seizure from the stress of the whole, chamber and exams, situation. Got really dizzy and my nose started to bleed really bad, passed out in the second-floor girls' bathroom.”

‘Merlin. Are you okay?’

“I am now, some rest did good for me, Madam Pomfrey told me to keep taking it easy though”

‘I see. No late night chatting with me anymore then.’

(y/n) gasped a bit and sat up, frowning.

“not fair! I like talking to you!”

‘I like talking to you too, but staying up till, merlin knows how late, talking to me isn’t helping your health. So, no more of that until you’re feeling better.’

“fine.”

‘(y/n).’

“I know! Thank you for looking out for me, means a lot. :3”

‘What in Merlin’s beard does :3 mean?’

“it’s a cute smiley face~! :3”

‘Stop it it’s, what’s the word you used? Cringe?’

“hey!”

-

Things finally felt normal again, (y/n) was finally getting some good rest as the months moved from February to May, her DADA tutoring sessions with Tom went pretty well, though once in a while he’d ask if she’d like to have a more-in depth lesson but she always declined, still a little weirded out by the way he could do the whole ‘pull someone into his subspace’ thing.

Plus, last time she’d gotten a nosebleed from the magic strain of it, she didn’t want to have another one.

Since her little-trip-to the hospital wing, the attacks had stopped and everyone else was finally relaxing, the tension finally easing up as the threat of ‘the heir of Slytherin and its monster’ seemed to have its fill and leave.

(y/n) currently was having some trouble with her potions work, her brow furrowed as she looked over her assigned work again and again, but it was just all blurring together in a mesh of nothing. She sighed, dropping her quill and rubbing her face. She needed a break.

She looked down at the diary, seeing she’d gotten a big ink blot on it from dropping her quill, sighing and moving the quill off of it and into the ink well. The ink sunk into the page and Tom’s writing appeared.

‘What was that for?’

“dropped the quill on the page, sorry.”

‘Tired?’

“very, i wanna go take a nap but the quidditch game is today and my friend is no doubt going to drag me off to that and its within the hour, hardly have time to even get up to my room and put my stuff away.”

‘I see.’

‘I could help?’

“how?”

‘If you would allow me, time doesn’t really pass within the diary, you could take a short nap if you wish? I just wouldn’t be able to talk to you for a few days, as I know the last time I pulled you in, it caused immense strain on your magic, and I’d rather avoid that.’

(y/n) hesitated, her quill hovering over the page as Tom’s words faded away.

“you promise it wont hurt me this time?”

‘I promise. Do I have your permission?’

(y/n) looked around the library, glancing at her watch, and then put her quill to the page again.

“you have my permission.”

In the same way as it did the first time, the gutter of the book became a blinding light that seemed to pull her into the diary-and the hands that caught her were even gentler than the first time.

She looked up, seeing the sepia-toned face of Tom Riddle, smirking down at her as he held her steady. She cleared her throat, gently pushing herself up to stand and he chuckled, reaching out his hand to hers. “C’mon, I know a good spot for a nap,” Tom said, and she took his hand, letting him lead her down the diaries Hogwarts halls.

He led her to the Slytherin common room, and she laid down on the big couch that was even comfier than the one in the actual common room, her eyes fluttering closed as a blanket was laid atop her, a cold hand brushing the hair from her face.

-

When she awoke, she was back in the library, sleeping over her books and the diary. She jolted up, checking her watch-only 15 minutes had passed, and yet it felt like she got several hours of sleep. She picked up her quill, writing a quick thank you to Tom before she packed everything up and rushed to her dorm room to change for the quidditch match.

As she went to leave the common room to go to the quidditch match-everyone suddenly crowded in, all looking worried. “What happened?” (y/n) asked her friend who quickly took her by the hand to sit down by the fireplace.

“There was another attack,” her friend whispered and (y/n)’s heart stuttered in her chest, her eyes widening.

“What? Where?” (y/n) gasped, her mouth gaped open.

“The library,”

(y/n)’s heart dropped to her stomach, her hand covering her mouth. She’d just been in the library! Had the attack happened while she was there? Or after she left?? But she was just there!?

“I was just there,” she whispered and (y/n)’s friend frowned, a horrified look growing on her face.

“Oh my god-did you see the petrified students?” (y/n) shook her friend in response, clutching at her stomach as the feeling of missed danger passed over her.

“No, I didn’t, i-I fell asleep while studying,” (y/n) said, which wasn’t a total lie, her face growing paler as she realized how close to danger she’d been, what if the monster had attacked her? How close had the monster been? Had it attacked while she’d been with Tom? Or right after she left?

Snape, the head of Slytherin house, walked through the portrait doorway, holding a scroll in his hands. “Attention, all of you.” Snape said, sounding drearier and more serious than normal. That was freaky, since Snape never panicked about anything. “Due to the recent events, these new rules will be effective immediately. All students will return to their house common rooms by six o’clock every evening. No student is to leave the common rooms after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”

Many of the students groaned at the very restricting rules. “But no Slytherins have been attacked!” Draco Malfoy complained, and Snape silenced him with a glare.

“We will not be taking those risks, Mr. Malfoy. Any breaking of these rules and you will find yourself back in London before you can even whine.” Snape drawled, pinning the scroll to the common room info board. “And I should tell you, unless the perpetrator behind these attacks is caught, it is likely the school will close.”

With a flare of his robes, Snape dramatically left the Slytherin common room, locking it behind him. Everyone looked at each other, wary that one of them might be the heir of Slytherin-the reason behind the attacks. It was a running joke that Harry Potter was the heir, due to his parseltongue ability, but that’s all it was-a joke.

(y/n), however, was mentally panicking, remembering that odd dream from months ago, remembering herself speaking parseltongue. But she’d also overheard Potter and his friends talking about how Tom told them that Hagrid was the one accused of opening the chamber last time.

And she couldn’t ask Tom to confirm that right now, as he was going to take a rest due to him using his limited magic to keep her from straining her own magic while he kept her in his subspace. She sighed heavily, rubbing her face.

The attack, the double attack, had happened while she’d been in the library, the library was where the attack had happened-and most likely while she’d been asleep.

What if…what if she was the culprit? What if she, unknowingly, was the heir of Slytherin somehow and had been doing things while unconscious?

Merlin that was a terrifying what-if.

She was muggle-born, that was true, but muggleborns had to have some sort of magical lineage in their blood, what if…what if the witch/wizard in her bloodline had been a descendant of Salazar?

Fuck she hoped not.

God, she wished she could talk to Tom right now, he always knew what to say to calm her down when she was spiraling.

Hours later, it was announced Dumbledore had been suspended by the school board and Hagrid had been arrested and sent to Azkaban.

Fuck.

-end of part 6-

man im on a rolllll taglist!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

@kayytt-2 @chimchoom @joyfulnightmare-hq

@theicypiscean

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: You find a love letter for you but the wrong guy; Hitoshi regrets only signing with his initials. A/N: The author wrote this sleep deprived, dehydrated, in the dark and completely running on an adrenaline rush so please excuse the sloppy work... WARNINGS: Minor IzuOcha, probably OOC Shinsou

“Stop denying it, Ochaco-chan! We can all see Midoriya lo-o-o-o-oves you!”

You giggled, using the books you were clutching as a shield from Ochaco’s attempt at slapping a hand over your mouth. She gave up and hid her red face instead. “We’re just friends!”

“But I saw you so jealous that day, are you sure about that?” You hum slyly, bumping her shoulder. The both of you stop in front of your locker, a quick stop before heading back to class. The hallways were buzzing with chatter about the recent UA sports festival, but you were more interested in what you had seen that day.

“Huh? When?!”

You haphazardly shoved your books into your locker then tapped a finger against your chin, playing dumb and pretending to think. “I dunno, maybe when Hatsume from the support course and Midoriya were talking? I’m sure he thinks her ‘babies’ are cute!”

“Wait, really?” Ochaco groaned, momentarily forgetting her denying before her eyes widened. “I mean, not that I care! Her babies - I mean her inventions are pretty creative!”

“But I’m sure Midoriya thinks you’re cuter~” You teased, using your hip to close your locker door, gleefully watching your friend blush and stutter. “But if you both ever get together, I’m your wingman, alright? He doesn’t look like he could hold your hand without having a panic attack, but if he does anything wrong no one will ever find his-”

“Eh, enough!” Ochaco just about yelled, this time successfully slapping a hand over your mouth. “It’s not like that! It’s - oh, you dropped something. Let me pick it up for you!”

“Huh? A paper - oh, wait, no, it’s an envelope?” Your name was written in neat handwriting at the back, leaving no doubt to you and Ochaco that this was for you, but at the same time you don’t remember ever seeing such a thing in your life.

“A letter? Who could it be from?” Ochaco leaned over your shoulder to read as you slipped a slightly crumpled note out.

I think you’re one of the prettiest girls at UA - the prettiest, really, with an amazing personality and talent to match. I’ve liked you since the first day, but watching you at the sports festival really sealed the deal. You’re practically on my mind all the time and just seeing you is enough to make my day - I could stare you forever and never get bored with what I see. Every time we pass by I really want talk to you, but I’m not really sure how to confess, so I hope this note will do.

-H.S.

“A LOVE LETTER? Oh my gosh, it’s so cute and romantic! You’re so lucky!” Ochaco began to shake your shoulders eagerly. “Who could it be from? Our class or 1B?”

“I have no idea, what do you think?” Your finger brushed over the oddly sweet words, your heart thumping a little faster. Judging by the heat in your cheeks you must be blushing too. “H.S….I wonder who could that be?”

“Not a lot of people have those initials,” Ochaco pointed out. “There isn’t a lot of people with names starting with H either.”

“I guess that narrows it down to…” You scrunched up your forehead, deep in thought. “I know there’s Hiryu from 1B, but then it should be H.R. instead of S. No one else in 1B.”

“Huh, then it must be from our class!” Ochaco exclaimed. You both turned to look at each other at once, the same idea ringing in your heads . “There’s only one H there too!”

“Hanta Sero?!”

***

In retrospect perhaps that note was terribly written and - he winced - cringey.

Serve Hitoshi right for writing it at 2 a.m. in the morning, sleep deprived, dehydrated, in the dark and completely running on nothing but an adrenaline rush. The same rush he’d get every time he’d spot you in the hallways that would create just a little smile on his deadpan expression.

Hitoshi wouldn’t be surprised if you completely laughed off the note, but he couldn’t help but hope for some other kind of reaction - the kind where you’d get excited and figure out it was him; Hitoshi knew you wouldn’t just fall in love like that but at least he’d get a shot at friendship. When he’d been writing the note and being delusional he’d imagine you’d liked him all this time as well.

But being realistic he knew the best he could hope for was simply a brief interest in the letter’s writer before a polite rejection.

Maybe Hitoshi shouldn’t have signed it like that.

Actually, a bunch of maybe-I-shouldn’t-haves were running through his head so loudly Hitoshi would’ve thought somebody was brainwashing him as he spied on you and Ochaco from a little way off. It was wrong and very creepy, Hitoshi was painfully aware, but the urgent need to just know what your reaction was to his stupid confession was.

Who even confesses through a love letter these days? It was just lame and he didn’t even write it properly. God, he really should have grown a pair, manned up and spoken to you directly-

Something in him melted, probably his heart, into a mushy puddle of lovesickness as Hitoshi watched you giggle quietly reading it, a pink tinge rising. You were always so cute. Even if you rejected the writer just seeing that look would’ve been worth it.

Then you cracked his confidence in half and just about gave him a heart attack.

“Hanta Sero?!”

No, it’s me, Hitoshi nearly shouted. I’m the one who wrote the letter, I’m the one who wants you to know that, I’m the one who looks at you like you hung the moon and stars up in the sky, the one who’s the biggest fan of you and the one who’s your biggest supporter during the sports festival.

And I’m the one falling onto the ground because my legs are jelly and I can’t believe you don’t know me after all and you’re going to go like someone else and I just caused that, Hitoshi wanted to add. Oh god they had the wrong H.S. and his own anxiety wouldn’t let him tell them otherwise.

Hitoshi really shouldn’t have signed it like that.

***

You walked out of the cafe, happy that your date with Sero had gone well but still disappointed.

Not in him, obviously. He had been pretty flattered when someone like you had asked somebody like him out to lunch, as Sero had put it, and in turn you were to that he would think like that. Your time together had passed with nonstop banter and laughter and you could happily call him a friend now, but the both of you had kind of agreed that while you had chemistry it wasn’t the romantic kind. There wasn’t that click.

Also he had been pretty confused when you had alluded to the note, dropping hints that eventually led you to realize he had zero idea of what you were talking about, so embarrassing as it was (hey, the writer meant it for only your eyes, right?…alright, so what if you didn’t want to share this private little sweetness?) you pulled out the letter and handed it to him.

“It’s pretty romantic but I didn’t write that. H.S. sounds familiar though - I mean, not because it’s my initials! I think I remember someone with those initials.”

“You’re not, like, offended I only asked you out because of the note, are you?” You had asked worriedly. That sounded horribly shallow and you were internally panicking everyone would get the wrong idea.

Thankfully Sero laughed it off. “Hey, I’d do the same! I hope you’re not too upset it’s just old me?”

“Of course not!”

So it ended on good terms, even with probably no plans for continuation. Sero’s last words still echoed in your head however, making you walk with your head up in the clouds of deep thought and speculation. “I’ll ask around if anyone knows a H.S. - I think they’re either from the support course or general studies.” You were pretty sure you don’t know anyone from those classes though…

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Embarrassment had you blustering apologies to the poor indigo-haired guy you had just walked into and knocked his coffee cup out of his hand, spilling it all over the sidewalk “I’m sorry, I didn’t see where I was going!”

“It’s fine, calm down,” he said reassuringly, although his drink was anything but. You breathed a sigh of relief that at least it hadn’t made a huge mess on his clothes. “It was an accident anyway.”

“No, but I spilled your coffee-” The same sign on the fallen cup and the one above the shop’s window caught your eye and you brightened. “Hey, how about I buy you another one instead? As an apology. I might as well buy one myself if it’s good.”

His eyebrows rose. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great!” You followed him back into the coffee store and made a beeline to the counter, placing your order and waited for him to choose his. Much to your surprise he gave your name to the barista when asked - had you met him before or something?

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly when he spotted your confused face as you paid. “You’re from UA’s heroes course, right? I go there too, in the general studies course.”

“Wait, you do? What a coincidence!” Your eyes widened as you beamed. “But hey, it’s not fair that you know my name and I don’t know yours!”

“Shinsou,” he offered.

You repeated it. “Suits you.”

“Yours too.” Shinsou took a sip of his drink as he and you walked out of the store. “So, tell me, what’s got you so distracted that you had to make me drop my first coffee?”

“I already made up for that!” You protested to his teasing tone, but then you awkwardly laughed wondering how to explain your thoughts. “Just got back from a date.”

“Oh?” You didn’t see Shinsou’s eye twitch at the mention of that, but he kept his tone casual. “Did it go south or something?”

“No, it’s just - uh, he just wasn’t who I thought it was.” You winced. That didn’t sound right and didn’t even make sense. “I mean I got a confession by note a while ago and I thought it was from him, but it turns out it wasn’t, so I really have no idea now. And maybe I am a little bummed it didn’t go like I thought it would. ”

Shinsou hummed in reply. “That must suck. So you really want to know who wrote the note?”

“Yeah, he was pretty sweet about it.” The shade of pink on your cheeks were threatening to deepen, so you willed yourself to stop thinking about it. Yet something about Shinsou’s friendliness just made you trust him, like him already.

It didn’t help he was also pretty good looking. “I dunno, I’ve just never met a guy who thought so high of me and it was really flattering and nice and all.”

“I see…tell you what.” Shinsou wasn’t really smiling but something in his eye sparkled with excitement. “If you’re up to it, I think this coffee would go well with some cake - and I know a good place.”

You stopped short, blinking while your brain processed his words. You began to giggle; Shinsou was pretty to look at and had an easygoing manner you liked, but you wanted to return his teasing prod from earlier. “Are you asking me out? And why should I say yes? I did just spill your coffee on our first meeting.”

“Well.” Shinsou was a little way ahead of you but stopped and glanced back with a half-smile. “My name’s Hitoshi Shinsou.”

“Oh my god.”

So of course you went on the date with him and he was just as sweet as the dessert.

[kisses4kaia]

i’ve been seeing ppl do sej x coryo x reader and all the time i see dom sej, switch coryo, and sub reader and it gave me this idea.

i think it would be interesting to see dom coryo, switch sej, and sub reader. yes ik this is very much ooc BUT IDGAF 😵

the plot could be that coryo and sej find the reader’s diary that she kept hidden in a shoebox. in the diary she’s saying things like “oh i want coryo or sej so bad omg”(obviously not like that LMAO). i feel like you could put romance into this plot too by having them see that she also would write about these cute scenarios abt them both. TEETH ROTTING THINGS EVEN.

i’m not sure if coryo would be more gentle with sej bc in my mind he(coryo) would be the one to actually consider the things in the diary. sej is up for the idea, but he’s nervous abt doing this with coryo bc duh it’s his best friend.

anyways, i hope this is interesting enough to do bc i liked how you wrote sub sej!

(this was long asf i’m so sorry 😭😭 also, this doesn’t have to be a long ass fic! if you think this would be better as a longer fic or shorter fic, GO AHEAD‼️‼️)

YES I LOVE ! plz don’t apologize i loved hearing ur thoughts . oh and i changed some minor things about this but i still hope u enjoy💞

your blood ran cold as corio stood at the foot of the bed, your fuzzy pink diary in hand as sejanus stood next to him, arms crossed and a smug look on his face, as if he was trying to contain laughter. “god, i would die happy if i could sit on coriolanus’ face and have sejanus stuff his cock down my throat,” corio quoted your journal, an devilish, amused, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “such dirty words for such a shy girl. don’t you agree, sejanus?”

he meets the blond boys eyes and nods, in modest agreement. “i don’t know, corio, i’m not all that surprised. i mean, she practically begged to join our group for the project,” he cocked his head slightly as he reasoned, all too casual about the situation.

he hadn’t lied, when professor click assigned a project for groups of three, you immediately got to batting your eyelashes and flattery with the two boys. at first, your intentions were pure, only wanting to ensure a good grade for the assignment, and it made the most sense to try to get with sejanus and coriolanus, for they had the highest marks in the entirety of the class. you had wanted nothing but an ‘a’, until you began noticing how beautiful corio’s eyes were in the sunlight, and how full and plump sej’s lips were when he pushed a pencil through them in concentration, and you hadn’t even realized you’d begun spiraling. you entrusted your diary with all the details of your infatuation for the boys, and as you wrote on late, dark nights, you’d never expected to have the subjects of your logs read it. you were utterly mortified, and your paled expression did not conceal it well. “oh, come on now, darling. don’t be ashamed, we aren’t judging you,” coriolanus cooed at your rigid posture at the head of the bed.

today was supposed to be the last day. the last day you were working on the project, and you’d let them into your empty home, into your bedroom, and onto your bed. you had let them linger in your room while you grabbed your school bag from the living room, facilitating them just the right amount of time to snoop if they so pleased, and you should have known that they did. in their defense, how could sejanus even be blamed for reaching for the blush book sitting in such plain sight on your nightstand? how could coriolanus be at fault for reading more when the first page had ‘corio ♡’ and ‘sej ♡’ written about 30 times all over the lined paper? when you’d returned, completely oblivious to their snooping, corio had hidden it behind his back and obscured it from your view. it was only when you turned to grab a pen off of your nightstand, the nightstand in which you retired your diary to every night, that you noticed the pink rectangle missing. slowly, you turned to face the boys who were standing, your innermost thoughts and secrets in corio’s hands. “i-it’s not what it looks like, i promise. i just…” you’re stumbling over your words nervously and you can feel sweat forming on your brow.

corio just laughs before sejanus takes the book from him, thumbing to another page. “all i want is for sej to hold me in his strong arms while corio eats me out. i need him to call me a good girl, i need it, i need it, i need it,” as he reads, his voice is monotonous, but his face reads touched, pleased. he looks over to corio, and upon viewing the expression on his face, knowing exactly which gears are turning in that head of his, he shakes his head. “i don’t know, corio. is that really a good idea?” sej is hesitant, but the blond boy just keeps staring at you with hungry eyes, the brunette boys apprehension not deterring him from his goal one bit. “sejanus, she obviously wants it if she wrote a whole fucking novel on how bad she needs to get her holes filled by me and you,” he reasons, speaking as though you are not in the room, which sent shivers rampant all over your skin. “but together?” sejanus squeaks and corio’s expression of amusement shifts from you to him. “what, you don’t want to? because i’ll be here? c’mon, sejanus, let’s not pretend i can’t see you’re hard at the mere idea of seeing me cum inside of her,” sejanus just rolls his eyes and redirects his attention back to you. “you want this?” he’s walking slowly, closer and closer to you, you who’s sat pretty at the head of the queen-sized bed, like an unsuspecting doe while the wolves prey on you hungrily. coriolanus walks around the other side, and your senses are on fire, watching your two classmates stalk towards you with primal lust swirling in their deep eyes.

you can only nod weakly, afraid that if you were to make a sound, your own voice would betray you. “words, sweetheart,” corio says in a singsong voice, his hand reaching out to your chin, jerking it to force your eyes to meet his. “please,” you squeak, lower lip almost quivering. the blond boy pouts at you, before using his free hand to fall between your thighs, flipping your skirt up before petting your cunt over your embarrassingly damp panties. corio’s digits move skillfully as the pads of his fingers press through the fabric and onto your clit, pulling desperate whimpers out of you. you haven’t forgotten about sejanus in the slightest, hyper aware of his looming presence, but you were much too afraid to break eye contact with corio, so you simply whisper faintly under your breath “sejanus,”

corio lets up on his grip of your jaw and allows your eyes to land on sejanus, who’s palming his bulge through his trousers. his eyes read your needy ones before grabbing your hand and replacing his own. you gasp at the how large he feels even through the layers of fabric, and have to bite your lip to the point of breaking skin so as to contain a moan. corio’s ministrations feel good, so good, but it’s not enough. “more, please. need you, need you both” your eyes begin pricking with tears as you look back at the snow boy, face rendering as a plead as your hips buck weakly into his hand. “i know, baby, i know,” corio leans down and for the first time, presses a kiss to your lips, before pulling your panties to the side and sliding his middle digit into you with ease. you moan against the sweet lips on yours, and turn to face sejanus, eyes begging for permission as you toy with the button on his trousers. “go ahead, pretty,” sejanus breathes out, pleasure building up within him. as well as you can manage while under the influence of gratification corio is invoking upon you, you undo the button and the zipper of sejanus’ pants and pull them down along with his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. you were mesmerized at first glance, he was beautiful; girthy, but still quite lengthy. prominent veins ran up and down him and his tip was a dark shade of vermillion, weeping with pre. you swear you thought drool was coming out of your mouth, because sejanus just smiles knowingly, guiding your hand back onto his cock.

at the same time, corio adds another finger to your tight cunt. his other hand comes in to use the pad of his thumb to draw calculated, deliciously meticulous, circles on your sensitive bud. you can tell sejanus is close from the way his eyes flutter shut as pleasure overtakes him, from how you can feel him twitch in your hand, and you know your release is coming soon, too. and when it does, pleasure courses through your veins, you had never felt anything like the orgasm corio talked you through. “fuck, yeah baby. cum all on my fingers, hm? poor, pretty, baby. so wound up f’me,”

not long after, you feel sejanus’ seed spill onto your hand, a string of explicits falling smoothly from his plump lips, along with moans of your name and praises for how good you make him feel. when his eyes reopen, you suddenly feel bolder than you did 20 minutes ago, and stare him down like he’s the prey, while licking his sperm off of your pretty, delicate, manicured, fingers. sejanus thinks—no, he knows—that could’ve made him cum again on the spot if corio hadn’t interjected, his tone a starved and vicious growl.

“on your knees, now.”

[hongcherry]

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 1

"After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol's obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?"

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers (lol), strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: [general tw (won't be repeated in the other chapters)] reader has she/her pronouns (referred to as girl, miss), reader dresses really feminine, reader is not nice, character outfit descriptors, parent/family issues (marital problems), bullying | [chapter tw] “joke” that implies prostitution in a negative way, near car accident (rear end), brief mention of death thru a joke

🍒 WC: 14.8k

🍒 Betas: Huge shout out to my bae, @love-strike, for being with me throughout this whole process, for listening to me whine, for helping me brainstorm majors for OT13, and for being so supportive! tysm 😭 And thank you to @playmetheclassics, @here4kpopfics, @angelwoozi for also beta'ing this series! ty for your time and for your sweet feedback! i really cherish everyone's efforts and brains hehe 🥰💖 i understand this was not an easy task to take on.

🍒 Author's Note: HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!!!!!!!!! 🎂♥️ I started this fic in September 2022 and contemplated even publishing it multiple times. I think this will be the first fic I've worked on for so long and published. Also, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so that's exciting! It was supposed to be one long one-shot, but I ended up writing way too much for a one-shot LOL. I'm really proud of myself for powering through and not abandoning it, as I've done in the past. I also wrote this all in past tense and spontaneously decided to change it to present 😪 Anyway, please enjoy the start of this couple's journey 😁

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

When people say good students are those who arrive on time, you find it hard not to scoff. Professors should care more about how hard-working one is rather than if they show up on the dot.

Of course, you do try to make it on time, but can you really leave your house looking less than perfect? Absolutely not. Plus, the first fifteen minutes usually consist of professors getting set up for their classes, so you don’t feel like you are missing anything of importance.

Today is no different.

Ten minutes past the official class time, you stroll inside the room. Students are seated where they normally sit, some are on their phones, and others are trying to finish some last-minute homework assignments. It’s a fairly small class, and being in your senior year means everyone knows each other well. Although, most of the people in your class think ill of you and don’t talk to you.

At first, you thought it was a pity, but in the end, you realized you didn’t want to befriend those who would only talk shit behind your back. This is what you figured they did since they were never discreet when they exchanged whispers with their eyes glued to you. 

Luckily, you have at least one friend in the class. Quality over quantity, right?

“Right on time,” your friend, Dae, says with a sly smile when she spots you.

You chuckle and slide into the seat next to her. “Class started fifteen minutes ago.”

“It did, but you’re right on time for you,” she explains with a knowing grin.

“Guess I need to be more late from now on,” you tease as you take out your iPad.

The device is a holy grail to you. Majoring in fashion design means all your ideas and creations over the past few years are stored there. When you don’t have it, it’s stored in secret in your house. Maybe that’s a little excessive, but losing it would feel like losing a part of yourself. After all, art creations always include a part of the creator. The device almost feels like it’s an extension of yourself—something too personal for others to peek at.

Dae rolls her eyes. “Or you could come on time. That would be different.”

“Why would I? The first fifteen minutes are worthless,” you huff and open your notes.

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Dae answers, sliding a piece of paper over. You glance down at it.

Prepare for the annual Senior Fashion Show! Students are to create their own fashion show with a theme of their choice. The show will be toward the end of the semester in the Main Theatre (official times and dates TBD). The project will count for 80% of your grade as this will require you to use all the skills you’ve acquired as a student. When creating your show, be sure to be mindful of the following…

“This was handed out at the beginning of class. Seems like we’re going to have to work with students from outside our department,” Dae comments after she gives you a few minutes to read everything.

So, this is it.

Every senior majoring in fashion design is required to participate. You attended every fashion show hosted during your time as a student here. You were always left in awe, motivated to be a student that would leave behind a name for themselves at the college. You want to inspire the next seniors just as the ones inspired you before.

While this assignment has your body giddy with excitement, there is a part you are dreading.

People skills are not your forte.

Not because you feel awkward talking to new people, but because the conversations always end unpleasantly. Sometimes with back-handed compliments, insults, or them trying to scold you. You hope that won’t be the case while recruiting volunteers.

“So, do we have the class period to start getting things together?” you question once you finish skimming through the instructions again. You’re responsible for a lot more elements than you anticipated. You need lighting, music, a theme, backstage helpers, hair and makeup artists, an advertiser, and most importantly, models. This is when you wish you had a large network. Though, every friend you tried to make didn’t end up lasting. Dae is the only person who has stuck by your side.

“Yup,” she replies. “We’ll be doing mini assignments throughout the semester to help us prepare. I think it’s just a way for Dr. Lim to give us grades so he doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Probably,” you sigh. You are already feeling stressed. Quickly, you scribble down a list of to-do’s in your notes.

“Do you have a theme in mind already?” Dae asks after a moment.

“No, do you?” you wonder.

Dae sits back in her chair, pen resting between her fingers. “I was thinking about something with space? Maybe my main colors will be blue, purple, and black.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing, though? Don’t you want to try something different?”

Although the question is harmless, the tone of your voice must have rubbed Dae the wrong way. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then looks at you again.

“Think of it as branding, okay? Why does it bother you so much?” she wonders with a frown. Realizing your mistake, you inhale slowly.

“It doesn’t. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m sure your stage will do well,” you reply, forcing a small smile on your lips.

“No ‘sorry’?” Dae asks despite knowing it isn’t part of your favorite vocabulary.

You narrow your eyes at her. “Nope. Just don’t be so defensive next time.”

“You’re insufferable,” Dae answers. “One day, you will be sorry for your behavior.”

Shrugging, you say, “There’s always a chance, but maybe if the world wasn’t so insecure, saying sorry wouldn’t be so wanted.”

Dae exhales disapprovingly at your thought process, displeased with your reply. “Well, for now, maybe try to be more empathetic?”

“I have bigger things to worry about right now. For instance,” you start, a finger at the top of your to-do list, “I’ve got to find someone who can provide me with music.”

Fuck, it’s too loud in here.

The sounds of different instruments being played at once, all emitting different tunes, have a migraine bubbling in your head.

You make a beeline to the professor who is sitting in the corner. She is an older lady, evident by her wrinkles and gray hair. Yet, her features are soft, and the smile she gives you makes you feel at ease.

“Hello, miss, can I assist you?” she asks when you’re in hearing range.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me with an assignment?” you wonder and offer her a kind smile, hoping she won’t shoo you away immediately.

“Ah, it’s alright. They’re just practicing for an upcoming assignment today. What is it you need, dear?”

“Who would you consider your best student? Is there a way you can get me in contact with them?”

The professor’s eyes widen slightly at the question. She didn’t expect that. Nevertheless, her gaze rises to scan the classroom.

“There,” she points as discreetly as she can. You follow her finger, which lands on a blonde-haired guy tuning his guitar. “Lee Jihoon. He’s the most talented student I’ve ever had.”

“This semester?” you ask out of curiosity.

The professor shakes her head. “Ever.”

You can’t stop the small disbelieving huff that escapes you. The best student ever? You aren’t sure how long she’s been teaching, but you doubt out of all her time, he is the best. He looks too young.

“Now, now, don’t judge a book by its cover,” she scolds gently. You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at the phrase. You’ve heard it too many times that its meaning lost its effect on you.

“What makes him your best student?” you question, sight going back to the man who is oblivious to your stare. He sits next to another student who also has a guitar. They seem to be friends from the way they are laughing together.

“His work is versatile and very good. I’m positive he will be the perfect person for your project.” The way she speaks about him makes you believe her. There was no waver to her voice, and her eyes hold a fondness in them you know one can’t replicate if not genuine.

“How long until they have their assignment due?” you wonder, realizing you may have to wait until the class ends before you could talk to him.

The professor smiles. “I’ll let them have five more minutes so you can introduce yourself.”

Internally, you sigh in relief. You’re grateful you don’t have to wait.

“Thank you,” you say before strolling to the man.

As you near, his friend glances up. He’s mid-sentence when he spots you, eyes growing slightly at the sight of you. You’re used to getting looks like that. Your fashion is always dressier than the average college student's. People just aren’t used to it.

“Hi,” the brunette friend says. He has prince-like features, and you almost consider asking him to be one of your models. You give him a small grin out of politeness before turning to the whole reason you came over.

“Lee Jihoon?” you ask.

Jihoon’s mouth parts slightly in surprise. “Uh, y-yeah. Do I know you?”

“No. My name’s Yn. I have a project in a class and need someone to provide music for me. You won’t get paid, but any extra experience is always good, right?” you greet, not wanting to dance around the subject. After all, this is only the first of many on your to-do list.

“What major are you in?” he wonders, brows knitted in confusion.

“Fashion design,” you answer.

Jihoon is silent for a moment. “And how did you find me?”

This guy is more difficult than you wished. You just need him to say yes.

“I asked for the best student, and you were recommended. So, what do you say? Will you help me?”

Jihoon gives you a small smile, but something about it rubs you wrong. “Sorry, my plate is a little full right now—”

“Do you need money? I can give you some afterward.”

You try not to sound desperate. Lee Jihoon is not the only music major—this is obvious by the amount of noise you hear in the background.

But you never settle for less than the best.

You have been looking forward to this project since your college tour here. 

“It’s not that,” Jihoon chuckles awkwardly. “I have other assignments I have to practice for, but I’m sure there will be someone else to help you. There’s a lot of talented students her—”

“But they’re not the best,” you interrupt. What else can you offer him that will make him say yes?

“Well, being the best is subjective,” Jihoon counters, voice light so you know he doesn’t mean it rudely.

You open your mouth to bargain with him more, but his friend leans into his ear. The noise from the other instruments behind you makes it hard to hear what they are saying.

Patience is something you rarely have. The longer you stand there waiting, the more annoyed you get.

“Look, you have almost a full semester to get a song done by then. I’m sure you can find some tim—”

“Fine,” Jihoon grumbles as he shoves his friend away. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” you pause. You are fully prepared to go down the mental list of how helping you will help him in return. One that will be complete bullshit, but if it gets him to say yes, then so be it. Luckily, you don’t have to. 

“Great!” you say.

You aren’t going to give him time to back out, so you quickly retrieve a business card you had made from your purse. It’s easier to exchange contact information, and you never know when you may run into someone important. Being in an artistic field means competition. You always need to have an eye out for something, or someone, that will help you get your name out there.

“Here’s my number. Please contact me before the day ends.”

Jihoon takes the card and examines it. “Got it. What kind of music will you need?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know,” you reply. He nods in response.

“I look forward to hearing your music. I’ll talk to you later then,” you say.

You have half a heart to wish them both luck on their assignment, but part of you is a little petty that Jihoon put you through some trouble. Instead, you give them a wave before turning on your heel.

As you’re leaving, you hear a loud sigh followed by a laugh from behind you. 

“Shut up, Shua,” Jihoon groans before the professor calls everyone’s attention.

Music, check. Now, what’s next?

As you make your way down the hallway, you stumble across Dae. She is surrounded by two other male students, none of whom you know. You don’t plan to greet her since she seems busy, but the sound of your heels clicking against the tile catches her attention.

“Yn!” she calls out cheerfully.

You halt in your tracks, turning to see her smiling at you. She gestures for you to come over, so you do.

“Hey,” you say to her.

“How’s your project going?” she asks.

“I got someone to help me with music,” you reply, then glance behind her to see the two guys staring at you. Dae follows your gaze and makes a small “oh!”

“Is that all? Do you have anyone for advertising or graphics?” Dae wonders, her voice seemingly excited.

“I don’t,” you answer hesitantly. Her eagerness has you worried.

“Perfect!” she exclaims, then turns to the others. “This is Yejun and Jeonghan. They’re both advertising majors. Yejun agreed to help me with my project, but Jeonghan,” she pauses to address the man. He has blonde hair that goes past his eyes. His soft features are handsome and almost angelic. 

“Jeonghan, would you mind helping my friend with hers? She’s super talented.”

Jeonghan glances at you, but before he can say anything, you ask him, “What are your skills? Do you have some work I could see first?”

Jeonghan looks taken aback. “O-oh, I don’t have a portfolio yet, sorry.”

“Ah, that’s fine,” you say before looking at Dae. “Thanks for trying to help me, but I’ll find someone else.”

Dae’s eyes narrow at you. “Come on, Yn. Jeonghan is really good!”

“Didn’t you just meet him?” you question and try to stop the scoff that threatens to escape.

“Well, yes, but Yejun has been my friend for a while, and I’ve seen his work. Yejun and Jeonghan have worked together as well, and their creations are unique!”

You inhale deeply, eyes roaming from your friend to Jeonghan. He offers you a smile.

“What your friend said,” Jeonghan replies with a small chuckle.

“Trust me on this,” Dae says. “Jeonghan won’t disappoint you.”

You don’t feel at ease agreeing to someone blindly. Dae’s definition of “really good” could be different from yours. Although her work is good, you feel your standards are way above hers. You had planned to ask for the best student for each assigned task, so having been offered a random helper with no proof of their credentials is unnerving. 

Granted, you haven’t heard Jihoon’s work, but you were sold on the way the professor spoke about him. Dae, on the other hand, is not a professor and could be biased as Yejun is her friend. Though, you still have a lot more positions to fill, and you need to do so soon.

Sighing, “Fine. You can work with me.”

From the way you word your sentence, it’s almost as if Jeonghan is supposed to jump up and down with glee. He doesn’t.

You grab another business card from your purse and hand it to Jeonghan. He takes it slowly.

“Just so you know, I have the right to replace you with someone else if I see your work isn’t fit,” you warn as Jeonghan slips the card into his pocket.

His eyes lock on yours. “That won’t be necessary,” he answers, not bothered by your comment.

“Oh?” you wonder and quirk an eyebrow up.

“Hm. You also need graphics, right? I have a person for that as well,” Jeonghan says.

“I haven’t seen their work yet—”

“You’re not very trusting, huh?” Jeonghan observes with a laugh. You shift your weight on one hip, not liking the way he is trying to tell you about your personality when he doesn't know you.

“I just know what I want, and I won’t settle,” you answer sharply.

Dae huffs next to you and gives you a gentle shove, indicating you to ease up. That isn’t going to happen.

Jeonghan doesn’t reply and instead takes out his phone. His fingers dance around the screen for a minute before he turns the device for you to see. On the screen is an Instagram account with various posts of different art and graphic pieces. Your eyes drift to the username. by_xuminghao_o. His art is impressive and definitely not an amateur like you half expected.

“So, about not settling,” Jeonghan trails off, a hint of a cocky smirk on his lips.

“I expect you both to contact me before the day ends,” is all you respond with.

Jeonghan pockets his phone and nods. He seems content with your answer even though you don’t confess the art meets your standards.

“All good then?” Dae asks, glancing between you two.

“We’re good,” Jeonghan replies and gives you another smile of his—one you are starting to hate seeing. There is just something about it that seems like he knows more things than you in a cocky, condescending way.

Yejun glances at his watch and then nudges Jeonghan.

“Thanks, ladies, but we have a class to attend. Nice to meet you, Yn,” Yejun says.

You hum in response while turning away from them. Dae says her goodbyes, watching as they leave before putting her focus on you.

“Do you have to be so picky?” she sighs.

“As I said, I know what I want. I’ve waited to do this project for years. It has to be perfect,” you explain and pull out your iPad. You check off music and advertising from your to-do list. Graphics aren’t listed, but you figure it will be a nice addition.

“I understand, but—”

“Just focus on your project, and I’ll focus on mine, okay?” you interrupt. You don’t feel like hearing her lecture you for a second time today.

“Alright,” Dae answers. “I’ll see you around,” she says, walking away before you can say anything else.

With her back turned, you roll your eyes at her attitude. It has your mood lowering, and you conclude you’re done with human interaction for now. You carefully place your iPad back in your bag, then make a beeline to the parking lot, ready to go home to figure out a theme for your show.

Home is somewhere you don’t enjoy being.

It always has this melancholy cloud looming over you. You can never seem to get rid of it completely. Even on the good days, it lingers in the corner of the room, always threatening to float above you. You doubt it will ever dissipate.

Your back is against the headboard of your bed, your iPad resting against your legs that are pulled to your chest. The music playing is too low for your liking, but you know if it’s any louder, your father will scold you for the high volume. Sometimes you will raise it just to get him to talk to you. Though today is not one of those days. You want to be left alone for once, which isn't usually too hard to do unless your sister needs attention. Like now.

“Today is the last day. Pleaseeee, Yn!” your sister whines at the foot of your bed. Her small body is bouncing with desperation and eagerness.

Reluctantly, you flicker your gaze up at her. The slight scowl on your face doesn’t seem to faze her… Probably because she’s seen it so much.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” you exasperate, gesturing to your iPad.

Seoah frowns. “When are you not? Come on! It’ll take, like, ten minutes. I’ve been looking forward to getting a Fallin’ Flower frap for months! You know it’s a seasonal drink.”

“Didn’t Dad say you couldn’t have any more sweets?” you say and peer down at your iPad again. You’re in the middle of brainstorming themes for your show. There are various words within bubbles, each connected with a line.

“I’ll just get a small,” she explains. When you don’t move, she walks around the bed to stand next to you. Her voice becomes softer, sadder. “You said you would take me. Dad can’t.”

“That was before I got assigned this project. It’s my—”

“Senior project that you’ve been looking forward to since your freshman year, yeah, I got it,” she responds, reciting what you’ve told her before.

You finally look at her once more. “I’ll take you for the next seasonal drinks, okay? They’re probably better anyway.”

“But I really want a Fallin’ Flower,” Seoah pouts.

“Next year,” you offer and return your attention to your homework.

“Yn—”

“Next year,” you repeat firmly without looking up.

Seoah pauses in her begging. You think she’s going to continue, but you hear the soft padding of her feet as she moves.

“Oh, Seoah?” you call out, glancing up.

She pauses by your door and looks up with some hope in her eyes.

“Don’t forget to shut the door all the way.”

“Right,” she mutters slowly, then leaves the room. You wait until you hear the door click close prior to getting back to work.

You sit on your bed the remainder of the day, only getting up to cook dinner for your father and sister. Your eyes feel strained and your body weak, but the sooner you pick a theme, the sooner you can get started. 

It’s days like these when your body is mentally and physically exhausted, that you miss your mom. You try not to think too much about her as it only makes the gloomy cloud above your head darker. 

Is she happier? Surely, she is. She is living her dream as a traveling journalist. Sometimes you will see her adventures if you peep at her social media. It’s self-torture to do so, but curiosity gets the best of you. You hope one day you’ll have the willpower to block all her accounts. 

At this point, you’re having the same conversation you have with yourself once a month. It never ends the way you want.

Inhaling deeply, you finish plating all the food before calling your family for dinner. While your father eats in his office, needing to continue his work, you and your sister eat in silence in the dining room.

Maybe one day things will change, but for now, you’ll have to settle with this.

You are about to knock on the door a second time when no one answers it. You have allotted only an hour for this meeting, so the longer you wait outside, the more you grow impatient. You have set mini-deadlines throughout the semester to ensure you will complete this assignment in a timely manner. You just hope your recruitees aren't going to slow you down.

Suddenly, the door is yanked open. Jeonghan stands on the other side, hair a little damp and a few wet spots on his shirt.

“Sorry about that,” he says hastily. “I thought I could shower quicker.”

“I told you eleven o’clock,” you scold. Jeonghan simply smiles.

“Never hurts to give people some wiggle room. Plus, aren’t you the early one?” Jeonghan leans back to view something. He looks at you after a few seconds. “It’s only three minutes past.”

“Early is on time,” you say as if that is an obvious life choice. Although you’re never really on time for classes, you reason that to be because the first fifteen minutes are a waste of time. This, on the other hand, is not. “Invite me in?”

Jeonghan moves aside and lets you enter. His apartment is tidy for the most part. It seems as if he had started to clean up but gave up toward the end.

“Where’s Minghao?” you wonder when you saw you were the only one here. He’s supposed to be here with Jeonghan, so you can all go over the advertising designs.

“He called and said he hit some traffic. Have a seat anywhere; I’m going to grab my laptop,” he instructs before jogging to another room. Shaking your head in disappointment, you glance around again.

Spotting his couch, you walk over and make yourself comfortable. You take out your iPad and open what you have so far—color ideas, font ideas, and a few mock-up fashion designs. It has been two weeks since you last saw Jeonghan. The majority of your tasks have already been assigned to people, but you still have to find a few more models.

“Alright, so, what’s the theme?” Jeonghan asks when he comes back. He sits down next to you, causing you to bounce slightly from his weight.

You angle your screen, so he can see it easier. “I decided on the four elements—water, ice, air, and earth. The title right now is Pinwheel.”

“This gives us multiple color options,” Jeonghan examines. “Maybe we could have five designs. One for each element and then one with all of them? That would give you a variety of exposure and make the audience feel they’re not looking at the same promo material every time.”

You sit still as you ponder his suggestion. “You don’t think people will get confused seeing different designs?”

“We can make it all tie in some way. You have your own logo, as I saw on your card. We can use that and the same fonts.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “That sounds—”

A knock on the door stops you.

“Ah, that must be Minghao. Do you mind getting that? I’m going to get my notepad, so I can try to sketch some layouts.”

You nod, setting your iPad down next to his laptop, then walking to the entrance.

“You’re late,” you groan while you pull open the door.

“Oh? Am I?” the person says with a little playful smile on his lips.

Although you’ve never met Minghao, you have seen pictures of him on his Instagram. You expected to see a head of blue hair, but you are greeted with black. Instead of a narrow face, his is slightly wider. He wears an oversized white shirt, jeans, and a colorful necklace. He looks like every other college student. Sure, he’s more handsome than the average, but not by much. Behind him are two women and one man.

“Can I help you?” you exhale a disheartened sigh when you conclude it isn’t Minghao. Meaning, he’s even later than you wished for.

The guy chuckles. “I doubt it, but Jeonghan can. Is he here?”

His voice is slightly deep. You may have found him soothing to listen to if it wasn't for his irksome words.

“He’s busy right now. You can come back in an hour, though,” you instruct and start to close the door. You don’t need any distractions.

The man sticks his foot out to stop you, causing you to exhale annoyed when you can’t get rid of him. You open the door slightly again.

“Just tell him I’m here,” he says, his teasing tone not so visible anymore but still light enough to not sound too rude.

“And who are you?” you question apathetically.

“Jesus,” someone hisses behind him before shouting, “Jeonghan, come here!”

Your eyes gaze past the man to see a woman with short-length dark hair. She eyes you haughtily, hand on the man’s forearm as if she were to push him away. Though she never does. She takes in your attire, and you once again get a look of judgment at your choice of dress. Your white dress paired with a same-colored, opened button down and beaded chain around your hips is apparently not her style.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks behind you. Reluctantly, you move aside so he can see. “Oh, Seungcheol! Right. One second. Come on in. I’ll get those papers for you.”

“Actually, do they need to come in? They’re not staying long,” you say quickly before any of them can move.

“Relax, princess, he’s just being friendly. You know, like when someone is kind, thoughtful, and considerate?” the girl questions as if you’re dumb and makes her way inside despite you standing close to the door. It forces you to move over. 

Her friends follow along. Three of them stand in the living room, while the second guy sits at the kitchen bar before pulling out his phone. You watch them with a fire inside your chest. Not only are Jeonghan and Minghao late, you now have to deal with this obstacle.

Just as you’re shutting the door, you see a glimpse of blue down the hall. Finally.

“You’re late,” you repeat, but to the correct person this time.

“I know, I’m sorry! Oh, are they helping too?” Minghao says, pausing at the entry when he sees the group of people inside.

“No. Get in,” you huff and point a finger in the apartment. Minghao enters without a fight.

“Hao!” the second girl exclaims with a smile.

Great. Do they all know each other?

“Hi, Hana,” Minghao greets with a gentle grin.

“What are you doing here?” Hana wonders.

“I’m helping Yn with her project,” he answers and gestures to you while you shut the door.

Hana looks your way, and you can see the distaste in her expression; however, she doesn’t say anything.

Jeonghan walks out of his room with a folder in his hand. “I hope this is what you need,” he tells the first man—Seungcheol, you presume.

Seungcheol smiles and takes it from him. He flips open the folder, doing a quick glance through the papers inside.

“Looks great,” he says. “Thanks for getting these for me.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replies.

“Hannie, do you want to come to Shining Diamond with us this weekend?” the first girl asks, tilting her head in a way that appears as if she’s begging for a yes.

“Ah, this weekend?” he hesitates. “I have a test on Monday I was going to study for.”

“A few hours won’t hurt you,” she replies.

“Alright, Hajun, but only for an hour or so,” Jeonghan says with a not-so-stern voice.

“Great! Minghao, do you want to come, too?” Hajun asks.

Minghao shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else, so sure.”

Hajun grins widely. Her eyes go past Minghao to see you standing in the corner, your arms crossed and eyes staring daggers at everyone.

She doesn’t say anything, but her look tells you you aren’t invited. As if you are silently begging to join. The thought makes you scoff quietly.

“Cool. You all scheduled your weekends,” you start and walk back to the couch. You turn briefly to Seungcheol, who is eyeing you already. “And you got your things. Can we please continue?”

Your gaze shifts to Jeonghan at your question. He offers you an apologetic look before nodding.

“I’ll see you all this weekend. You can text me the time,” he says while walking to the door.

“We can decide that now,” Hana suggests.

“Or over text like Jeonghan said,” you interject. She narrows her eyes at you.

“Be patient. It’ll only take a few minutes,” she replies.

A few minutes, my ass.

“I’d rather you use those minutes to walk out the door.” You give her a faux smile.

“Have some respect,” Hajun scolds.

You laugh though you don’t find any of this humorous. “What a hypocrite. How about you respect people’s times?”

“I did tell Yn I’d help her,” Jeonghan cuts in sheepishly and opens the door to hint at them to leave. “I’ll text you all later, or you guys can come back in a bit.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingers on yours as he walks toward the door. Your eyes catch on his as he makes his way into your line of sight. His stare has an unsettling feeling form in your stomach, and you contemplate asking what his problem is. Before you can, he turns to Jeonghan.

“Thanks again,” he says as he lifts the folder.

“No problem. Talk to you later,” Jeonghan replies.

All his friends have filed out except for the one male who hasn’t said a word. He glances at you. You expect to receive another jab about who knows what. Instead, he gestures at your body.

“Nice chains,” he compliments with a smile.

Your eyes widen slightly as you glance down briefly at your outfit. That was certainly unexpected. “Uh, thanks.”

“Come on, Vernon!” Hana yells from the doorway. Vernon gives you a thumbs up, which is uncanny given the situation, then follows his friends out the door.

Once they leave, you narrow your gaze at Jeonghan and Minghao. They’re quick to apologize again and start asking questions about your project before you can lecture them. Lucky for them, your hour is almost up, so there isn't enough time to do that anyway.

Weeks go by with you working nonstop on your project. Annoyingly, you also realize that the majority of the people you recruited to help all know each other. It usually isn’t something to be irritated by, but each time they run into each other, they usually end up making small talk that you have to break up. They can do that on their time, not yours. Even more frustrating is that this so-called Seungcheol and his groupies know them all as well. Their reactions to seeing you are always the same—ones of displeasure. Though the feeling is mutual.

You learn they are all business majors, except for Vernon. Well, he was a business major, but he plans to switch to something else. You can’t blame him. If all the business majors act revolting, you would leave that department as well.

Seungcheol… He isn’t as bad. 

You have only ever hung out with him by himself for less than five minutes. Those conversations spur when you’re both left alone after one of your “mutual friends,” because none of these people are your actual friends, abandon you both. The conversations are awkward and never hold any weight. He doesn’t throw snide remarks at you, but his presence still makes you uneasy with the possibility. You’re normally the first to leave because of that. Maybe if he didn’t have those obnoxious friends, you could tolerate him more. You can’t help but associate him with them though. You simply want to get away from them, even if that includes him. Not that you are craving his presence anyway. You barely know him and aren’t interested in changing that.

“Those are looking awesome so far!” Dae exclaims when she peers over your shoulder to see your sketches.

You smile at her and set your iPad down on the table. The weather outside is perfect, given the cool breezes in the heat. It eases your mind, and you feel more creative being in a new environment.

“Thanks, how are yours coming along?” you question and wait for her to angle her own iPad to you. On the screen are various designs, each with a hint of purple or blue.

“Those are neat,” you compliment.

“Yeah?” she says and beams at you. “What about this one? I think the shoulder looks a little weird.”

You reach over, using two fingers to zoom in on the screen to examine it.

“Maybe just lower this,” you gesture on the screen, careful as to not move the screen on accident. “You could take this part out too and make it asymmetrical.”

Dae hums, lips pursed in thought. “I’ll try it. I guess I won’t really know until it’s on someone.”

You nod in agreement before focusing on your designs again. After a while, Dae excuses herself from your homework session. She had planned to meet with one of her helpers. You bid her a quick goodbye.

Ten minutes pass when you see someone standing in front of your table, blocking your sunlight. Your eyes rise to see who it is.

“Hi,” Seungcheol greets.

You straighten your posture upon seeing him. He wears a basic navy suit that fits him well. To your surprise, it actually looks decent on him. Your eyes dart around him to see if any of his friends came.

“Just me this time,” he answers the question in your head.

“What is it you need?” you ask blankly.

“Must I need something?” he retorts.

You suppress the eye roll you want to give him. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to tell me about your day.”

“I can if you want,” he responds, then to your utter dread, he sits down across from you. From the position he is sitting at, the breeze is blowing his hair forward and into his face. He raises a hand to push it back, but it’s no use.

“You can spare me. Tell me what you want and go,” you instruct. This is the first time he has approached you—and alone, for that matter. You don’t want to make it a regular thing.

“Always straight to the point,” he chuckles.

“I just don’t like my time being wasted,” you explain.

“So, I’m wasting your time now?” His eyebrow quirks up.

“Should I spell it out for you?” you scoff. It should be obvious that you don’t feel like talking to him.

“You can try, but do you know how to spell it?” he stares at you through the hair on his face. Even though you can’t see him clearly, you can tell he has a challenging gleam in his eyes.

“At this point, I think you just came to bother me,” you sulk.

He smirks at you. “I didn’t, but it is a little fun to see your feathers ruffled.”

“They’re perfectly content being unruffled.”

Seungcheol chuckles at your response. He pushes his hair back, but this time he rests his hand against his head, keeping his hair in place. His elbow is propped on the table while his other arm lays flat on the surface. 

All the times you have seen him, his hair has covered part of his forehead. Now, it’s all exposed, and you feel you can see him. Maybe it’s because he’s donning a suit for once, but he looks almost… handsome like this—dressed formally with a small glint in his eyes and his lips spread in a gentle smile.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replies. “I think you need to have more fun.”

Well, he was handsome until he opened his mouth.

“I don’t need a stranger telling me how to live my life,” you say.

“A stranger? I would think we’re at least acquaintances,” he frowns.

“You only see me because your friends are helping me. Speaking of, is that why you’re here? Does it have anything to do with one of them?”

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, and you can’t stop your eyes from lowering to his mouth.

“Maybe,” he answers slowly. Your eyes snap back to his when he speaks. He gives you a knowing smile that has you shifting in your seat. You had only looked at his lips because he brought attention to them. Nothing more.

“Are we playing twenty questions?” you groan, finally unleashing the eye roll you have been trying not to do.

“We can,” Seungcheol says with a shrug. “You asked three already—more if you start from the time I sat down.”

Exhaling a deep breath, you put your forehead on the hand that’s propped on the table. The conversation is slowly draining your energy. The need to be alone becomes stronger with each second.

“Seungcheol,” you warn. You are not about to play a guessing game with this man. “Please.”

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary.”

“Yes. Would you like me to use it in a sentence?” you question, pitch raised as if you’re talking to a toddler. You lift your head to glare at him.

“Sure,” he smirks and leans forward. He still holds his hair back and this time, you can really see the way he is goading you.

“Please fuck off,” you grin widely. Your head tilts to the side as you push your arms together to act overly cute.

“Please make me,” he counters. The smirk he wears is still plastered on his lips.

“If we weren’t in public, I would,” you say, voice returning to normal as you relax your body—the cute act over.

“Oh? How?” he chuckles. From the way he looks at you, you know his mind has gone elsewhere.

You push at the arm that is stretched across the table. “Because I would rather not get caught for murder, you pervert.”

Seungcheol laughs and sits back, letting his hair fall back into his eyes. It’s the first time you notice he has dimples. Your first impression is that they are cute, but you quickly recall who they belonged to and shove that thought from your mind.

“Seokmin wanted to let you know he lost your card,” he finally discloses. “Asked if you could give him another.”

“If he lost a simple card, is he really reliable?” you sigh as you grab another from your purse.

“The good news is those stage lights are so big, he won’t be able to lose those,” he says, taking the card from your hand.

“Thankfully,” you mutter. “I hope you’re better than Seokmin at not losing things.”

“I’ll get this to him, don’t worry,” he replies and puts the card in his suit jacket. You want to ask why he is wearing that, but that will mean you will prolong this conversation. Fortunately for you, he starts to stand up before you succumb to the temptation.

“Thanks for the talk,” he says as if you had a choice. “I’ll see you around.”

You would have doubted that, but you know that won’t be true.

The second time Seungcheol approaches you by himself is a few days later when he catches you exiting a building he is approaching.

“Don’t tell me someone else lost my card as well,” you say after he calls your name. You readjust your bag on your shoulder as you wait for his response.

“About that,” he starts sheepishly.

You put your weight on one hip and cross your arms, and set your mouth in a straight line. You wait for him to tell you who is the perpetrator.

“I may have left your card in my suit jacket when I washed it.”

Well, that explains why you haven’t received a message from Seokmin yet.

“Seriously, Seungcheol?” you exasperate.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” he says, lips pouting and eyebrows angled.

Shaking your head, you retrieve another card. You make a mental note to restock later as you are running out.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab it from you, but you quickly pull back.

“Put this in your bag,” you instruct. 

You slowly give him the card and watch as he slings his bag around to his front. He makes a show of unzipping one of the front pockets and sliding it inside.

“Done,” he says, acting like he should be rewarded for doing as he was told.

“Good. Is that all?” you wonder. You’ve just finished your last class of the day, and all you want to do is climb into bed.

“Yes.”

Seeing no need to continue the conversation, you start walking in the direction of the parking lot.

“Great. Bye, Seungcheol,” you say over your shoulder.

“Hey, wait,” he says quickly, walking briskly to be by your side. “We’re going in the same direction.”

You peer up at him momentarily. “That doesn’t mean we have to walk together.”

“You said before we’re strangers. This would help us not be that anymore,” he shrugs casually.

“I never said I wanted that,” you reply flatly.

“It might benefit us since we’ll have to see each other a lot.”

“Is that so?” you sigh sadly.

Seungcheol smiles at you before shoving his hands in his pockets. “You did ask my friends to help you.”

“Well, if I knew you were a package deal, I wouldn’t have.”

“Come on. I’m not that bad.”

Sighing, you slow your steps to look at him better. He stops next to you, awaiting your response. His gaze is hopeful, but you’re not sure why.

“I’ll agree if you leave me alone,” you finally say.

Seungcheol’s lips dip in a frown. “I’ll get you to admit it one day.”

He starts to walk again before you can reply. Now is your chance to let him get a few feet from you. You have the opportunity to finally end this conversation you’ve been dreading. Though, for some strange reason, your feet quickly move on their own accord.

Seungcheol’s steps are small, and you catch up with him easily. Neither of you says a word, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips.

Instead of parting ways once you reach the parking lot, he follows you to your car. Something about it being dangerous for you to walk to it alone, even though it’s light out.

“Yn?” he says to catch your attention when you open your door. You turn and give a small “hm?” in response.

“My friends and I plan to go to this poetry lounge in two weeks. Would you want to come?” he asks. You aren’t sure why he appears to be anxious.

The shock you feel must be evident on your face because Seungcheol’s apprehensive expression relaxes into a gentle smile.

“Business friends or our ‘mutual ones’?” The idea doesn't sound so bad if you are hanging out with the people who are helping you. Although you have your issues with them, they aren’t that bad to be around if you’re being honest.

“Business.”

That’s not what you want to hear.

“Do your friends know you’re asking me this?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, but I don’t need their permission. What do you say?”

You can’t recall being invited to a night out with someone other than Dae. If you were to go out without Dae, it would be with your family or for a class assignment. To be invited to a place by Seungcheol, out of all people, catches you off guard.

Despite having an opportunity for a different change of pace, you answer, “No.”

“No?” he asks, perplexed.

“Your friends don’t like me, Seungcheol,” you explain matter-of-factly through a sigh, leaning against your open door.

“They just like to tease you. I’ll talk to them before,” he explains. 

Tease is a funny way to describe it, you think.

“I don’t need you fighting my battles,” you answer, referring to the latter part of his reply.

“Still. I want you to enjoy yourself. You’ve probably been glued to that project of yours. Step away for a bit,” he reasons.

He isn’t wrong. Your focus has solely been on the project. Of course, you have other classes, but you aren’t putting as much effort into them as you are this one.

“I’ll pick you up and pay for any expenses,” he offers. The more he talks, the more taken aback you are. You figured he’d drop the offer once you rejected him. From every interaction you’ve had with these “friends,” it never ends well. You doubt this will be any different. Regardless, something in you feels a little… honored he is so adamant about getting you to come.

Thus, hesitantly, “Fine.”

Seungcheol’s face breaks out in a grin. “Okay. I can give you my number, so you can text me your address.”

He starts to pull out his phone, but you stop him.

“No need,” you say. At Seungcheol’s confused expression, you continued with a faint smile, “You have my card.”

His mouth opens briefly in realization before the corners are pulled up.

“One step ahead, I see,” he teases, pulling it out to inspect it as if confirming your number is there. You suppose he may think you’re lying to get out of going.

“I’ll text you then,” he concludes and places the card back.

“Alright,” you say, shifting your weight. You aren’t sure if he wants to say anything else. Why are you giving him the time to? You have already given him enough of it.

Sensing your readiness to leave, he waves as he slowly takes steps backward. “Drive safely, Yn.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

You climb into your car’s seat, turn on the engine, and watch as he makes his way through the maze of cars until he is out of sight.

That Friday comes sooner than you would’ve liked.

Throughout the times you had met with your “friends,” you had bumped into Seungcheol one-third of the time. Sometimes, you were left alone with him again. Each interaction you had with him became easier the more you talked to him. 

Dare you to admit; his presence wasn’t actually teeth-gritting anymore? At least when he was alone, you didn’t have to deal with his business friends. Despite him not usually laughing at their jokes, he never really stepped in to stop them teasing you at first. Maybe only a few times when he felt things got too heated. He wasn’t your best friend, but part of you did hope he would’ve said something. 

Each time he didn’t, you felt your disappointment rise. He apologized on their behalf constantly, but his apology meant nothing when they kept insulting you. However, lately, he has been stepping in sooner. Although you didn’t want him fighting your battles initially, some things you couldn’t do alone. One thing you and his business friends had in common was that no one really knew where the sudden change of attitude came from. For once, you didn’t complain, though.

You’re tempted to cancel this outing, but talking to Seungcheol a few days ago made you realize he was a little more excited than he was letting on. The reason is unknown to you—maybe he really likes poetry lounges—but you’d feel slightly guilty if you ditch last minute.

It’s not like you haven’t been out on a Friday night with people, yet your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You have changed about six times, exchanging your accessories with each outfit. Normally, you would dress up more, but these aren’t your friends you’re about to hang out with. They are Seungcheol’s—business majors who think skirts more than two inches above the knees mean you’re a slut. Though, you can’t figure out why that matters. You never dress with the thoughts of others. If you want to wear something that day, even if it’s “over-the-top” for some, you wear it. So, why are you in such a fashion dilemma now?

In the end, you settle for a simple, spaghetti-strapped red dress that is slightly bunched on the sides with strings that are tied in bows. You pair it with a small, heart-shaped purse and white heels. There isn’t any bling in your outfit, which is unusual for you. The accessories you wear are minimal and small. They are a matching cherry set you were gifted by your mother on your 12th birthday. Although it’s been years since you received them, they’re still wearable and delicate enough not to call much attention—unlike some of your other accessories. 

You reach for a white fur jacket only to stop when your fingers graze it. Your eyes travel to yourself in the mirror as you debate on wearing it. The jacket will be too much, you conclude.

The buzzing of your phone catches your attention. It’s Seungcheol telling you he’s five minutes away. After stuffing your phone in your purse, you quickly apply red lipstick and toss it in your purse for later touch-ups.

When your phone buzzes again, you hurry to your front door. Your family is home, and you don’t want Seungcheol to meet them. Life at home isn’t ideal, and the only person who has a hint of what is going on is Dae. You doubt Seungcheol will find that out from one quick meeting, but you don’t want to risk it.

You throw your door open, ready to meet him at his car. Instead, he stands in front of you with a hand raised. He takes a step back in surprise. His eyes glide down your body quickly, but you’re too concerned about your family coming to notice.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “I was just about to knock.”

Before any of your family can intervene, you close the door and start your way down the porch steps. Seungcheol follows you.

“You didn’t have to. I can make my way to your car by myself,” you answer. Although you’ve never been in his car before, you’ve seen it around. Plus, it’s the only unknown vehicle near your home.

You stand next to the passenger door and wait for him to unlock it, arms wrapped around your body when the chilly weather hits you.

“You sure you don’t want a jacket?” he asks when he notices you didn’t bring one.

“It didn’t go with my outfit,” you explain. It’s a lie. The coat did go with your fit, but you didn’t feel like disclosing the fashion crisis you had gone through.

Seungcheol chuckles. “So, you’re going to freeze instead?”

“It’s not that cold,” you lie again.

“It’ll get colder later, though,” he explains and comes closer to you. You step aside when he is a few inches from you. You press your arms tighter around you, eyes averting from his because of his close proximity. The small distance has you wanting to squirm away, but your feet can’t move. He peers at you with a small smile while he reaches behind you.

“My lady,” he murmurs when he pulls the door open and gestures for you to get inside.

“How chivalrous,” you reply after you force your nervousness away. You carefully slide inside his car, situating yourself comfortably in the seat.

Seungcheol waits to ensure you have all your limbs inside before shutting the door. As he walks around to the other side, your eyes scan his car. The seats are leather, and the interior has higher tech than you thought it would. It is a nice car—not overly luxurious, but enough to show it isn’t cheap. It makes you wonder how much it costs.

“You warm enough?” Seungcheol questions after he gets in and buckles.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, hands resting awkwardly in your lap. The heat from the vents aids in your goosebumps disappearing.

Your mind is already wondering what to expect tonight. You know his friends aren’t fond of you. At least most of them. That guy, Vernon, seems nice enough. He is the quiet one in the group; however, you did notice he has his own quirks that make him unique. You foresee yourself hanging out with him most tonight. But even then, you don’t feel too great about going.

The longer you sit in Seungcheol’s car, the more you regret agreeing to this.

He stares at you for a moment; brows knitted together slightly. You feel uncanny acting so meek, and Seungcheol can't help but notice.

Silence consumes the small area for a few seconds until Seungcheol says, “Seatbelt.”

You look at him confused, then realize he is talking to you. Of course he is, who else?

“Right,” you mumble, quickly pulling the belt over your body.

“You don’t have to come, you know?” he says with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear stick.

You sigh and gesture to the road ahead. “Let’s just get going. I’ve got stuff to do after.”

It isn’t completely a lie. You still have to work on bringing your designs to life for the show, but it isn’t like you are behind schedule that you need to do that tonight. You just know you might actually back out if you ponder on leaving more.

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, averting his focus to the road. He doesn’t reply and obliges to your request by shifting the car into drive.

During the ride, your gaze drifts to Seungcheol. He is relaxed in his seat. One arm stretches to hold the wheel while his other rests on his thigh. One which is clad in a pair of light-washed jeans with a black belt between the jean loops. He wears a white shirt tucked in and a black jacket.

You peer forward slightly to read what his shirt says. Propriety of Balenciaga? The Balenciaga? You don’t think he’s wealthy enough to afford one of those shirts. Perhaps it was a gift or a knock-off brand? Maybe he thrifted it… Though, Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the thrifting type.

“Do you need this?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. He’s holding his jacket open to show you what he means. You must’ve been staring too much.

“No, I’m okay,” you say and turn your attention away quickly. “I just didn’t realize you wore glasses.”

Although the comment is true, you need something to say before he questions why you truly are staring at him. You had noticed the spectacles earlier but didn’t feel like mentioning them.

Seungcheol laughs lightly, “Actually, I don’t. I just thought I’d try to improve my fashion. What do you say, did it work?”

He glances at you after stopping at a traffic light; his mouth quirks up in a teasing smile. You turn toward him and scan his face quickly. They do look good on him, but you aren’t going to tell him that.

“They certainly did something, but whether that effect is good or bad is a secret,” you reply, looking away again.

“I’ll take that as you not wanting to admit they look nice on me,” Seungcheol says and continues driving at the green light.

“I think they’d look better on someone else,” you answer. Though, you don’t believe what you said. Something about the glasses on him has you wanting to stare at him more. They fit his face well and make him appear more attractive. You don’t want to sit on that thought for much longer.

“Is that so? Here,” he says, pulling them off his face. The glasses come into your view, and you stare at him, puzzled. 

When you don’t take them, he adds, “They won’t bite.”

You roll your eyes at his comment and finally grab them from his grasp. You pull down his sun visor to look at yourself. After sliding on the spectacles, you turn your head from side to side to see the different angles.

“I think I was right. They do look better on someone else,” you tease and face him as you shut the visor. Seungcheol turns to you at your reply.

His eyes wander across your face, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

“Maybe I’ll have to agree with you this one time,” he says. His stare lingers on yours so much that it has you shifting in your seat. When you avert your gaze, your eyes widen.

“Cheol!” you shout as he was about to rear-end another car. Instinctively, he shoots an arm out across your chest that has your back pressing firmly against the seat. The sudden act causes you to reach up and grab onto his arm tightly.

The car screeches as it comes to a sudden halt. Luckily in time to not hit the other car.

You both sit still, breathing intensified at the near accident. After a few seconds, Seungcheol retracts his arm. It’s then you realize you’re still holding onto him. Your eyes dart to his forearm and frown when you see small crescent shapes indented in his skin.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

Seungcheol’s focus is ahead of him but glances at you in confusion at your apology. “What?”

You quickly gesture to his forearm. When he sees the marks, he rubs a hand over them absentmindedly. “It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you reply, heart rate slowing down to normal.

“I’m alright. Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t make you play dress up in the car.”

“No, it was my fault.”

Seungcheol eases on the gas pedal when the light turns green, keeping a safe distance from the car in front. He remains quiet for a while to ensure you are both safe.

“Are you sure you’re okay? First, you apologize, and now something is your fault?” he jokes.

You don’t remember what you said a few minutes ago, so it takes a while for you to comprehend what he is saying. “Shut up,” is all you can respond with in the end.

Seungcheol laughs but doesn’t pester you about it any longer.

“Oh, you can take these back,” you say and tug off the reason for almost hitting another car.

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he slides the glasses back on his face.

You nestle yourself back in the seat again and glance out the window. As the buildings pass, it dawns on you that you’ve never called him Cheol. The thought of using a nickname for him has your body tingle with an unknown feeling. It’s strange. You aren’t the first to call him that, but you aren’t that close to him to start using nicknames. Annoyingly, you spend the remainder of the car ride fretting about how he felt toward you shortening his name. 

Did he even notice? If he did, did he like it? Had you crossed a line?

When he parks, you become acutely aware of everyone’s attire. Many wear jeans or tights with a plain shirt and jacket. A few have on skirts or dresses, but they are more t-shirt dresses or plain skater skirts, if anything. Plus, they are accompanied by tights because of the weather. No one has as much skin showing as you do.

The sinking feeling of not belonging consumes you. You can’t remember the last time you felt this way, and that alone has you questioning yourself even more.

“I’m too dressed for this, aren’t I?” you think out loud.

Seungcheol turns off the car, eyes raking your body again. Though this time, you’re aware of it. You tug down the bottom of your dress at his stare. It’s not like it’s predatory, but it still has your nerves skyrocketing.

“Since when did you care about what others thought of your outfit?” he wonders. The question has you sighing, momentarily closing your eyes as you remind yourself you dress for you, not for others’ approval.

“Right,” you swallow harshly and sling your purse over your shoulder—mentally throwing away the negative thoughts too. “Let’s just go.”

With that, you open his car door and step out.

“Yn wait—” you hear Seungcheol call out right as you shut the door.

Your hair is immediately pushed from your face as the wind blows past. It makes your body shiver, and for a split second, you wish you took up Seungcheol’s offer to grab a jacket when you were at your house.

Seungcheol’s car beeps as it locks before he stands in front of you. His broad body blocks the wind, and you feel your own ease from feeling a tad warmer.

“I’m sorry if that came off rude,” he apologizes softly. “I think you look great.”

You look at him, face void of emotion. You don’t believe him, but you don’t want to argue. At least not standing in this weather. 

“Okay,” you reply. “We need to go meet your friends.”

You take a step forward, thinking it will get him to start walking toward the building, but he doesn’t budge. You only decrease the distance between you two.

“I mean it,” he whispers.

Goosebumps are forming on your exposed skin the longer you stay out. You blame the cold weather for them, but something in your chest tightens at the way Seungcheol is speaking to you.

“I think red is your color,” he pauses. “You should wear it more, Cherry.”

Your head tilts at his last word. “Cherry?”

The corner of his mouth raises at hearing it from your lips. Slowly, he brings a hand to your face. You stand still as you stare at him with wide eyes. His hand brushes past your cheek before he grazes his fingertips along your ear. 

“It suits you,” he murmurs, eyes moving away from yours. 

You follow his gaze and realize he has been looking at your cherry-charmed earrings. His eyes then flicker to the matching cherry-charmed necklace resting below your bare collarbones. You’re not sure if he means the color suits you or if the nickname he just made suits you. Either way, you’re surprised at his words.

Suddenly, the weather doesn't feel as chilly anymore. Your body heats quickly at his comment, or maybe it’s from how close he is to you. Nevertheless, you need to distract yourself from this warm, odd feeling bubbling in your chest.

You clear your throat and step back. His hand lowers steadily.

“I’ll think about it,” you reply more confidently and clearly.

Seungcheol takes the hint and moves aside, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He nods his head in the direction of the building, and you start walking toward it. Your pace is slightly faster than his, but you don’t mind not walking next to him. If anything, you need distance from him anyway.

The moment you open the door to the lounge, the heat from inside greets you in full force. You step inside and are welcomed by a worker. He is young, maybe a few years younger than you. He gives you a friendly smile.

“Hi, are you wanting to be seated, or are you with a group already?”

“With a group,” you reply. The worker nods.

“Do you need help locating them?”

You shake your head as the jingle of the door opening sounds behind you. Seungcheol stops behind you. His hand comes to hover over your lower back, not really touching you, but close enough to feel the heat radiate from his hand onto your skin. It has you shuffling away.

“They’re over there,” he says. You peer up to see where he is gesturing. Fair enough, you see his friends at a table toward the back of the building. There are five of them, all smiling at each other. You can spot a few familiar faces—one of them being Vernon. You feel a little at ease knowing he made it here.

“Thanks,” you murmur to the worker before making your way to the table. The closer you get to the table, the slower your steps become. You’re used to keeping your chin high in situations you aren’t completely comfortable in. The whole “fake it until you make it” is on repeat in your head.

Yet the saying is not encouraging you much right now.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Seungcheol asks when he catches up to you. You don’t realize you had stopped a few feet from the table.

“No,” you say. You aren’t mad at him; you just need some space from him for now. You don’t like how you aren’t in control of your emotions when you’re around him. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

Seungcheol eyes you for a second before nodding. You make your way to the bathroom, but right before you enter, you can hear the welcoming echoes coming from his table of friends. All of them sound cheerful and excited to see him. You don’t expect any of them to look forward to your presence, yet you feel a little disappointed when no one brings up your name—in a positive way.

After using the restroom and washing your hands, you stand in front of the mirror with your hands lingering under the warm water. Your eyes roam your face and body, taking in your appearance. Compared to your normal fashion, you really did dress down. You sigh when you realize you’re circling back to the same issue.

You retract your hands from the faucet and grab a few towels to dry them.

It doesn’t matter if you’re overly dressed. You usually are and don’t care. You look great. You should feel confident in your fit. 

You gently tug the dress down before turning in front of the mirror.

You look fine. You look nice.

As you reapply your lipstick, you keep repeating compliments and reassuring phrases in your head. 

They’re going to look at you funny. You are going to ignore them.

“That’s right,” you sigh to yourself as you toss the lipstick back into your purse. 

Suddenly, your phone starts to vibrate. You pull it out to see Dae’s name appear across the top. You eagerly answer her call.

“Hey babe,” Dae’s voice comes from the other line. “How’s it going?”

“I’m ready to go home,” you say with a small huff.

“Damn, that horrible? Is he treating you badly?” Dae questions. You had told her about Seungcheol’s invitation when you got home that day. She was shocked, but ultimately supportive of you going.

You shake your head despite her not being able to see you. “No, he’s been fine. I just,” you pause. Although you have your ups and downs with Dae, she has stayed with you when no one else has. You don’t disclose your troubles often, wanting people to not see that side of you, but you’re feeling too low that you can’t stop the confession from coming out.

“I’m way overdressed for this place. Everyone’s in jeans or tights. I don’t belong here,” you say.

Dae sighs sadly. “Jeans are boring. I think I only own a pair,” she answers, trying to make you smile. “Just remember, if you were to die right now, would you want your last outfit to be something boring?”

“No,” you answer slowly.

“Exactly. These are people who are used to looking plain. They’re probably jealous you’re outdressing them. Don’t let them get to you, Yn. I’m sure you look beautiful.”

Your shoulders ease at her words. “Thanks, Dae.”

“No need. If they had the talent to dress themselves better, they would.”

You let her words sink in, but the reassurance doesn’t last long.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you say, beginning to pace the small area in the bathroom.

“It’s good for you to be around people from outside our department. It’ll make you more open-minded,” she encourages. “Plus, Seungcheol isn’t as bad as he seemed, huh?”

There is a teasing tone to her voice that you don’t like.

“One outing with him doesn’t mean he’s my friend,” you argue.

Dae giggles. “No, but it’s a start. Do you like him?”

“No!” you answer quickly.

“I was just asking in general. Not ‘like’ as in crushing on him,” she explains nonchalantly, but you can hear her smile.

“He’s,” you pause as you try to think of a word to describe him, “he’s been alright.”

“Well, I better let you get back to him then. I just wanted to check in,” Dae answers.

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” you say.

“Remember, you don’t need their approval. You never have, and you never will. People want the confidence you have.”

“I’m not feeling too confident right now,” you mumble.

“That’s because you’re overthinking. Chin up, okay?”

Sighing, you reply. “Okay.”

“Good. Talk to you later!”

“Yeah,” you say before hanging up.

Taking one last look at yourself, you roll your shoulders back and exit the bathroom.

Seungcheol is sitting in the middle of Hajun and someone you don’t know. His eyes lift to meet yours when he hears the sound of your heels.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks. 

Nodding, your eyes roam for a spot to sit.

“You knew you were just going to a poetry lounge, right? Not the runway,” Hajun comments with a small scoff.

Your eyes move to look at her, and you quirk an eyebrow. She wears leggings with a graphic tee. Her discarded jacket is slung over the back of her chair. “Are you sure you know that, as well? Or did you think you were just going back to your bed?”

“This is how normal people dress,” she replies.

“Relax, Hajun,” a voice you don’t know sounds. You direct your attention to them. 

The guy has black hair that is parted on the side to expose his forehead. His eyes are narrow, and even though he has a soft appearance now, you’re sure his gaze can be fierce when needed. 

“People don’t need to dress up for special occasions,” he says.

You’re taken aback by his comment. Seungcheol’s friends have always questioned your wardrobe, so for this new “friend” to not agree with Hajun is surprising. 

“No, they don’t, but you gotta’ admit she’s a little overdone huh, Soonyoung?” Hajun replies.

“Hajun,” Seungcheol interjects, giving her a pointed look.

“I understand not everyone knows how to dress. It’s okay, though. I can offer my services if you need some help,” you comment, half tempted to reach in your bag to get a business card. Although you aren’t on campus, you never know when you’ll run into someone who will make a good connection, so you keep them with you wherever you go.

“Services?” Hajun laughs and rests her crossed arms on the table. “And what ‘services’ are you offering? Because from the looks of it, I can tell exactly what you offer. Sorry, I’m not interested.”

Her eyes roam your body once more, indicating that the way you are dressed, means your services consist of paying to be with people in bed.

“I don’t think those services would help you anyway. Your rotting attitude is enough to repel anyone. Though I guess some people are willing to lower their standards when they’re desperate,” you counter.

“You’re such a—” she starts.

“Can we talk?” Seungcheol asks Hajun quickly, but he doesn’t give her the option to answer because he takes her hand and pulls her away from the group.

The table is silent for a few seconds before Soonyoung speaks up again.

“Don’t pay any mind to her. It’s nice to meet you. You must be Yn?” He smiles at you, slightly bowing at you.

“Correct,” you say, trying to not show how irritated you feel.

“Come sit,” he offers, pulling up a chair so you’re sat between him and Vernon. You thank him before sitting in the chair. You sit your purse in your lap as conversations begin to spark again.

Their voices become background noise as your gaze drifts to Seungcheol and Hajun in the corner. They stand close to each other and are in a deep conversation—clearly about you. Seungcheol has his back to you, so you can’t see his expression, but you can see Hajun’s. Her lips are in a frown, her expression not as sassy as before. 

Though her pouting seems forced, her bottom lip a little too far stuck out. Soon enough, she rolls her eyes, an expression similar to how it was earlier. Her eyes then move from him to you over his shoulder. When she catches your gaze, she smiles and raises a challenging eyebrow. However, her gaze doesn’t last long because Seungcheol’s hand comes up and guides her eyes back to him. Even though his hand isn’t touching her completely, she leans into his touch. The act has you stilling.

“Yn?” Vernon questions, tearing you from your thoughts. You don’t realize you’re clutching your purse until your focus goes to Vernon. You ease your grip and raise an eyebrow.

“Soonyoung was asking what your major was,” Vernon explains.

“Oh,” you say, glancing around the table. It appears the others are in their own conversation.

You look at the man to your left. He gives you a reassuring smile that tells you he is patient. “I’m studying fashion design. Are you in business, too?”

Soonyoung shakes his head with a laugh. “I could never. I’m a dance major.”

“Wow, that sounds nice,” you say. “Aren’t your career choices limited with that, though?”

“A little,” Soonyoung replies honestly. He doesn’t seem offended by the question. Maybe he gets it a lot. “But it makes me happy. I can always teach or maybe even become a dancer in a well-known group.”

You hum, understanding his words.

“Isn’t fashion design limited, too?” Vernon asks.

“Clothes are everywhere. I can do a lot with it.”

“But not everyone will wear your clothes,” Hana says, having finally heard your discussion.

“There will always be someone,” you argue, confident in your work. It may be a slow start, but you believe in your designs.

She laughs. “Who? Your mother?”

Your eyes narrow at the mention of your mom, and Hana is quick to notice the change in attitude. Instead of letting go of the topic, she continues.

“Ooh, trouble at home? See? I knew the ‘Great Yn’ isn’t as perfect as she seems,” Hana says. What makes her think you are so “great” is unknown to you, but you aren’t surprised to guess people have made up a persona for you. 

“Stop, Hana,” Vernon says, but it has no effect.

“Oh, so we were right?” Hajun’s voice comes from above. You glance up to see she and Seungcheol have returned. It appears their little chat did nothing to keep Hajun from being a bitch.

“Seems so,” Hana says with a smile. “Care to share with the class what kind of mommy issues you have?”

“No wonder she dresses like that,” Doyun, another one of Seungcheol’s alleged friends, adds. “She’s not getting attention at home. I guess Daddy isn’t there either?”

“That’s enough,” Seungcheol scolds them all.

Your eyes are darting from everyone at the table. Their stares are akin to shrink rays, making you feel tiny and minuscule. You know when you aren’t welcomed, and there’s no reason to stay listening to this. You want to snap back, end the conversation with your own last words, but nothing comes to mind.

In lieu, you push your chair back and stand up. Your hands twitch with the temptation to dump their food all over them, but you just want to get out as soon as possible. 

You waste no time careening for the exit. 

Seungcheol calls your name; you ignore it. The worker from before sees you, telling you goodbye, but you couldn't care less and push past the door before he can finish his sentence.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden breeze that slams into you. Instantly, your arms wrap around you once more. You glance around and see a bus stop down the street. You don’t care that it’s the other way from Seungcheol’s car. You hurry to the station, not sure when the next bus will come.

The bus stop isn’t deserted despite the cold weather. The area must be busy all the time since the sidewalks are littered with more people than you expect. All the seats at the stop are taken, yet you still shuffle under the shelter in hopes to get away from some of the breeze.

You are shaking, and your teeth are chattering. It’s impossible to force your body to stop since you need to generate heat somehow. You probably look like a pathetic naked chihuahua in winter.

You take out your phone, open up a browser, and search for bus times. Thankfully, there’s one coming in three minutes in the direction you need. The thought of taking the bus is not pleasurable. You hate the idea of your skin touching something so many others have touched. It feels unsanitary.

Accidentally leaning back against the wall while you silently groan has you jumping at the cold material touching your bare skin. Your jolt catches the attention of an older woman who is sitting near you.

“Aren’t you freezing, child?” she asks as she stares at your attire—or lack of. 

“I’ll be fine soon,” you say, not really in the mood for talking.

“Where is your coat? Did you not know the weather was going to be cold?” she continues.

Utterly done with all the people-talk tonight, you hiss, “Focus on yourself. I’ll focus on me.”

She seems startled at your outburst. Her already crossed arms tighten as she turns away from you. Her muttered “bitch” doesn’t go unnoticed, but you don’t say anything about it. There’s no point in arguing with a stranger.

The sound of the bus calls your attention, and you mentally thank the universe for the great timing. After people leave and all the new patrons enter, you finally take a step up the bus’ steps. Before you can climb all the way, you hear your name being called. You look past the bus doors to see Seungcheol running toward you.

Just what you need.

You disregard him and step farther up the steps of the bus.

The bus driver looks expectantly at you, and it dawns on you that you need to provide payment before you can board fully.

“Card?” you wonder. The bus driver nods and gestures to a device to the right.

As you unzip your purse, you feel a hand grip your arm.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks, slightly breathless. His hair is disheveled from running, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Home, idiot,” you huff and pull your arm out of his grasp so you can retrieve your card.

“Just come with me. We can talk somewhere else,” he pleads, a hand stopping your movements again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Seungcheol,” you hiss. “Now, let go of me.”

He hesitates but slowly releases your arm. He doesn’t leave, though. “I’ll take you home. You don’t need to take the bus. Come on.”

“Go with him or get on! We have places to be,” a passenger exclaims, clearly annoyed with your drama.

You raise your head to the person, narrowing your eyes in a glare that tells them to pipe down. It has no effect on them. They shoot a fierce look back.

“I know you don’t want to take the bus,” Seungcheol comments quietly.

He’s right. Not only do you not want to sit next to a lady whose arms are filled with shopping bags—the only available seat—you really don’t want to add time to your trip home.

Seungcheol reaches out again and carefully takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t fight him as he guides you off the bus. Once you’re both off, the bus doors shut and begin its trip down the road.

You watch it silently, not knowing Seungcheol is discarding his jacket until you feel the warm material cover your shoulders. Your eyes snap back to him as if remembering who you’re with.

“I’m sorry they said all that stuff. I told them not to do that tonight,” he says remorsefully.

“Oh, so you’ll let them talk shit about me another day?” you chide and start walking away from him. Thankfully for Seungcheol, it’s in the direction of his car.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he replies as he hurries to catch up, which doesn’t take much effort as you aren’t walking too fast due to your cold, stiff legs.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll do that whenever they want to. They wouldn’t be the first,” you scoff.

“It doesn’t make it right regardless,” he says. You halt in your steps, causing Seungcheol to stop and turn to look at you.

“I talk shit about people behind their backs, too. Does that make me a bad person?” you question. Perhaps if he sees you as one he’ll leave you alone.

He exhales a deep breath. “Let’s just get in the car, okay?”

“You can admit it,” you challenge and walk closer to him. “Does talking shit about someone make me a bad person, Seungcheol?”

He stares down at you, soft gaze turning dark with annoyance.

“To the car, Yn,” he demands slowly just in case you won’t understand; his tone is sharp in a way you haven’t heard before. You don’t let that scare you away. Maybe if you weren’t so fired up, you would have been a little intimidated.

You laugh darkly and roll your eyes at his command. “You want me to sit next? Bark, too?”

“Now, you’re just being dramatic.”

Dramatic, he says.

“Woof?” you reply, dramatically giving him the best puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches at your response—not pleased with your sarcasm. However, instead of replying in an annoyed tone, he takes a step forward. His head draws closer to your face to ensure your eyes are glued to his.

“Wanna be a good girl and go to the car, Cherry?” he murmurs lowly, an eyebrow quirking up for a second.

His sudden change in tone has you stiffening. You want to bite back—figuratively or literately… you aren’t sure yet—but you can’t even remember what you are mad about in the first place.

“Hm?” he croons when you don't reply quickly.

Rather than a sarcastic reply, you simply grumble, “whatever,” before pushing past him to get to his car.

You stand next to the passenger side like before, waiting for him to unlock it. Seungcheol comes beside you and swiftly unlocks the vehicle. Although you aren’t arguing at the moment, you can sense some irritation lingering from him.

You get the feeling he'll always hold the door open no matter how annoyed he is with you.

You feel suffocated.

The air in the car is too hot. The weight of his jacket has you overheating. The tension is unbearable.

Seungcheol keeps his eyes on the road, not throwing you a single glance as he drives. Every once in a while he will tighten his hold on the steering wheel. One time you even catch the way his muscles flex at the motion—now exposed from not wearing his jacket. You never realized how fit he is. This isn’t the first time you have seen him sleeveless, but you just never stared long enough to notice. Or if you did, you simply didn’t care. Regardless, you notice now, and you have to force your eyes away before he catches you staring.

You want to ask for music so you don’t have to sit in this insufferable silence, but your mouth feels dry. You decide to just deal with the quietness, shifting in the seat so you’re facing the window more. Your eyes drift close as you let the hum of the car distract you. 

Seungcheol’s jacket is snuggled around you, and his woodsy cologne fills your senses. It’s pleasant, and you don’t mind if you smell more of it in the future.

By the time you arrive home, you are on the verge of sleep. You stumble out of the car and shut the door without saying a word to Seungcheol. You expect him to drive off, but the sound of his tires moving never comes. Instead, you hear his car door opening and closing.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you say while you glance behind you. Seungcheol is following you languidly.

“No, I don’t,” he says and pauses at the bottom of your porch steps. He places a foot on the first step while a hand holds onto the rail. You have your keys out, ready to slide them into the keyhole when you speak.

“Then don’t,” you reply sternly.

He chuckles lowly but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You can go now,” you say when he doesn't move.

“You have something of mine.”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a second. Seungcheol gestures to your body, and you quickly remember you’re wearing his jacket. You tug it off and toss it to him. He grabs it from the air with ease. The loss of heat makes you wish he didn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Cherry,” he murmurs as soon as you click open your door. You step inside before turning to face him.

The nickname you used earlier forms on your tongue, yet you can’t find the courage to say it consciously.

“Night,” you answer, then shut the door before either of you can say anything else.

With your head bowed, you turn the lock slowly while you exhale deeply. His nickname falls from your lips under your breath—unable to keep the desire at bay.

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

A/N: Can't believe the first chapter is actually published 😭 I sat and stared at this for a few before hitting "post" because I'm so anxious! dfl;kbjdvs. Please feel free to share your thoughts on it so far!

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (couldn't tag :c), @cheolcherries (tysm!!!)

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- This Is Us Movie

2013

Part 36

Ok so before we get into this one this will be written in 3rd person as if the reader is the one watching the film (does that make sense? I have no clue) it will probably jump around a little from scene to scene and I also won’t really be including anything on stage. Anyway I hope you enjoy.

29th August and everyone is waiting in anticipation for This Is Us Movie to start. Chattering can be heard until Niall’s voice is heard The screen is black as Niall says

“When I was small I had a desk, it was weird because I wrote on it ‘when I grow up I wanna be a singer’ I like scribbed it in. And it’s still on the desk”

“Life at home was my mum, dad me and my three sisters” Zayn now speaks as photos of the boys houses and where they lived start showing “you can say I had a heavy woman influence from a young age”

“We lived in a tiny house and I used to have a little bed in my mum and dads room” Niall’s voice says again the screen showing a picture of when he was younger

“I used to sit on the windowsill and imagine things like winning the lottery” Liam says

“When I was little I knew I wanted to entertain people I was a proper show off” Harry says as photos of Harry are shown

“When I was at school I was the class clown I’ve always been that guy who made people laugh” Louis’s voice says

“When I was younger, I was shy. I didn’t want to be the centre of attention. It was my mum who was the outgoing one, she could sing, I guess that’s where I got it from” YN says as photos of her family are shown “it was just me, mum and dad growing up, mum tried to get me to join different activities, but I was to shy”

The photos transition from family pictures to photos of the o2 arena which then transitions to video footage. Music playing and Liam is seen walking out onto the stage singing ‘up all night’ before the rest of the band start singing.

The first song ends and video footage of fans stood out side the arena is show chanting and screaming. More footage is shown of different tours and news anchors talking about then band.

“Wether we’re together or apart we can both remove the marks and admit we regret it from the start” the boys and YN sing, harmonising while walking backstage towards the front of the arena

“Oh my….” YN gasps holding her dog cookie in her arms

“Its scary being here now. I feel a bit nervous” Liam says to YN.

Harry and Louis are playing football as Paul the choreographer tells the boys and YN to start rehearsals

“Louis your on that end YN move into the middle” the screen shows the boys and YN rehearsing before it changes to them trying on outfits

“Sometimes I feel like I’m the mum of the group getting the boys to do as they are told” YN tells the camera in a dressing room while Harry is taking funny photos “H take a serious photo would you!” YN scolds and immediately Harry takes a nice picture of him in his outfit.

———

“That is sick” Louis says looking at the stage

“Holy… wow” Liam says stunned at the lights

“I wish my mum could be here to see this, to see us”

“She is. She’s always here” Harry hugs YN as the screen transitions to YN sat down

“When I auditioned for X-Factor I truly didn’t think I was going to get through. My mum always thought I should go on and since I was able to I knew I had to do her proud” a photo of YN and her mum are put on screen. It’s a photo of them smiling while out at a flower field “I miss her so much everyday” YN tucks a loose piece of her hair behind her ear revealing the tattoo she has in dedication for her mum.

The boys talk about their experience being formed

“It was crazy the day YN joined” Liam says sitting down in a room “we had only just gotten used to each other then there was Simon bringing in a girl to join us at judges houses”

“YN and I actually met during the auditions and when I saw her walking in with Simon I felt confused”

“Seeing Niall there I felt my anxiety lower, all I could think of is thank god one member will be ok with me. I was so scared joining the band”

“It was vital that we became friends before we became colleagues” a video of YN, Harry, Niall, Liam, Zayn and Louis is shown. They’re all sat outside on a hot day laughing at something Harry had said.

———

“I’m going to miss you” YN says to Cookie as they lay on the floor while Harry is packing his bag. Cookie then licks YNs face

“She loves that dog more than she loves us” the music stops and Louis laughs from across the room “see doesn’t even deny it” the screen switch’s to Niall then Liam then back to Harry and YN “are you going to pack? Our flight is in 4 hours”

“Soon. Let me just cuddle Cookie a little more”

“See loves her more than us”

———

“Madison Square Garden. The worlds most famous arena. Just sums it up. I don’t know where we go from here really. It’s mad” Liam says next to a banner

“I’m really nervous”

“Me to bro” Niall and Liam are sat down on some chairs looking out as the crew move around to build the stage.

The screen changes to the boys and YN on the stage doing a rehearsal, but YN is on the floor with an ice pack on her ankle

“YN went over her ankle with her heals on” footage is then shown of YN running on the stage and slipping and Zayn trying to catch her “so we’re just waiting to find out if she can perform tonight or if she needs to go to the hospital” Harry says to the camera then back to YN when she starts saying ow as Niall and Liam help her up. Harry then walks away from the camera and grabs a chair for her to sit on. The camera zooms in on YNs face in pain.

———

Niall is seen running down the halls with YN in a wheelchair then into a room where Liam and Louis are

“I’m so nervous for tonight” YN says “not only are our parents here tonight but I have a bad ankle”

“Are you doing the show in the wheelchair?” Niall asks YN

“No going to take paracetamol and wear trainers. Hopefully I don’t hurt it more, but I’m performing here” YN says determined.

The next scene is of YN getting out of her wheelchair and running to her dad who walks into the area with Anne and Robin. Tears can be seen in all of their eyes

“I’m so proud of you” Thomas says holding his little girl in his arms. YN let’s go of her dad and give both Anne and Robin a hug before Harry is seen bringing back her wheel chair and demanding she carries on resting her ankle until they go on stage.

———

After live while we’re young the camera switches to Harry, Louis, Liam, Zayn and YN all lying down in an airport lounge trying to catch up on sleep while Zayn has a voice over saying that it’s non stop. It then shows an airplane flying over Tokyo and the band leaving the plane. Cameras flash and paparazzi call their names

“This is a little strange. This many photographers aren’t allowed in the building in the Uk” Harry says walking next to YN who is trying to keep her head down. The airport is crazy full of fans. The band all take time to sign autographs and take photos

“I never thought I’d be here in Japan with this many fans wanting to take a photo of me or have my autograph. Sometimes I feel like I’m in some crazy fever dream that I’m going to wake up from and find that is 2010 again and I haven’t auditioned”

The next scene is of Harry reading a Japanese news paper, Liam balancing a tea pot on Louis head. He then pours milk into the cup. The camera pans between Harry and YN who shakes her head smiling

“I work with children and I’m actually the youngest here” YN chuckles as Louis runs off spilling the tea and cracking a plate. Harry shakes the news paper and then his head.

———

“Right lads and lady were tourists for the day” Liam says taking a photo of YN, Harry, Louis and Niall stood in front of the Eiffel Tower

“We don’t often get to explore the country we’re in so if we ever get the chance to we definitely take it”

“It feels like an adventure everyday” Niall says

“It’s like a big holiday really. With a lot of work involved” Liam says to the camera

“It’s a good job I enjoy my job and my coworkers” YN says “well sometimes” YN then walks off leaving a stunned Harry

“Hey that’s rude”

———

“I’m just a natural aren’t I really. I don’t mess around that’s the main thing for me” the camera points to Liam who’s fishing, Harry who’s lay down with his eye closed and YN who’s looking out to sea “I think the Europe trip so far has just flown by. When you think about tour rehearsals and everything, it seems such a long time ago now”

“I know” Harry says putting his hand in front of his face trying to block the sun while he looks at Liam. YN turns to look at her best friends

“Do you remember when you walked in and Simon said we would be working together?” Harry asks YN

“Yeah. I was so scared you guys were going to hate me or something. I mean when I first joined there were little clashes here and there but it wasn’t anything huge”

“Yeah we were just trying to change dynamic a bit. Like be respectful to you a stuff” Harry says looking back at YN

“If I wasn’t in One Direction right now I think I’d be in a factory or being a fireman” Liam says

“I’d probably be living back home in Shrewsbury doing something at Uni. Would you have opened your own bakery?” YN turns to Harry

“I was a great baker”

“And yet we’re still waiting for you to bake us something”

“I will… one day”

“Fish!

“Yes!”

“Ahhh don’t you dare” YN squeals as Liam brings it over to her

“Come on YN give it a kiss”

“No!”

“When we’re on tour they’re still young people who like playing games” Preston one of the security guards says as video clips off Harry running away from him is shown

“I am their dad on the road” Paul Huggins says “the only issue I have is that they’re all a pain in my ass. Yes even sweet little YN” the next clip is YN hiding under a table then grabbing peoples legs making them scream “the boys have corrupted her”

“We’ve got some days off scheduled. The boys are going home, Im staying in LA for a bit. I’m going to miss them. I spend so much of my time with them, I live with Louis and Harry so it’s hard when we’re not together. It’s like somethings missing” YN hugs her befriends as they leave her alone at the airport “I know I’ll see them soon, but part of me wants us to stay together. Love you!” YN shouts. 

———

“Sometimes the media can get to me” YN shows a photo of YN and Liam walking around LA “this was taken when I stayed in LA for a little bit before going back home to see my dad. Im in Australia right now, the boys are coming soon because we will be doing the last part of tour here then in Japan. I guess like any job there positives and negatives. I love what I do, but it’s had when you get hate for living your life. It can be hard, but I have some of the most amazing friends and family who help me through all of that” the camera then shows a video of YN running up to Niall who picks her up and swings her round “there’s truly something special about our friendship. I never feel separated from them because I’m a woman” another clip of YN Harry scooping YN up into a bear hug is shown “they’re part of my family”

“I’m so proud of YN” Thomas, YN’s dad is shown on screen sitting in his kitchen “she’s always been rather shy and after her mum died that shyness almost took over her” again another clip of YN and the boys is shown, this time of them racing each other in an arena “if she hadn’t of joined the band I don’t think she would have coped. The boys have become her befriends and have brought this other side out of her. A more happy and confident side that I haven’t seen since before Lisa passed away”

“We’re back baby!” YN shouts having a group hug with the band as ‘one way or another’ starts playing and the clip changed to them on stage singing.

———

“I can’t believe you threw water on each other and got me wet” YN laughs looking at the 2 culprits while they all sit on the tour bus

“Own up! Who’s farted!” Louis says

“Niall own up” Harry says laughing

“You know, sometimes when its really smelly, Niall doesn't admit it” Louis continues

“Hold on who here never admits to them but we all know they’re the worst” Niall then points to YN

“No don’t blame me. I don’t admit to them because I don’t do them on the bus”

“No she saves them for stage” Zayn laughs

“Hey it’s not my fault I have nervous farts”

“Kinda is” Harry says and YN is seen hitting Harry playfully making him laugh.

———

“How the hell did you get me to agree to go camping with you” YN laughs carrying a large back pack

“Is there any bears in Sweden?” Liam asks

“Where we putting the tent?” Louis asks

“Put it over here” Niall directs the boys and YN

“I’m hungry” YN groans

“We need to make a fire first”

“I’m on pine cone duty” Louis says sounding extremely happy

“Oh it’s good the instructions are in Swedish” Liam saying looking at the little booklet

“We don’t need instructions Liam”

“I’m hungry” YN moans again

“Are you gonna come and help?” Harry asks YN

“But I’m hungry” YN now pulls out at a packet of crisps and sits down on a chair

“Where… how did you… you know what you sit there and eat your crisps”

The day turns into night and the band are sat around the campfire. YN and Harry are sharing a blanket to keep them warm

“Do you think if one of us wasn’t in the band we wouldn’t be this big?” Liam asks

“No, definitely not” Harry shakes his head

“I don't think so either. I think we each balance each other out” liam replies

“What’s mad is one day we won’t be doing this” Louis says

“No mater what we do or where we go in life, I just want you all to know that this has been the most amazing experience of my life”

“Awww YN!” Harry hugs YN tightly into him

“I mean it. I’m proud of us. Whether we last for 10 year or just another year. I will always look back at these memories with fondness”

“Do you think we’ll still be mates?” Zayn asks

“I hope so. Even if don’t talk all the time I think we will always be proud of one another”

“Ok YN your getting to soppy!” Harry says.

———

“It’s the last day of tour and while a part of me is excited to have a break, I’m going to miss being here on tour, being with these idiots every day” YN says “I can’t believe that we are able to do what we love and it’s all thanks to the people who are supporting us. Weather they’ve supported us from day one on X-Factor or have only found out about us today. Thank you, it truly means the world to us all” with that the the video fades of a video of the band bowing before it cuts to the credits.

[diacripticcomplex]

Can there be more ayayui? I've only seen one of the fics that u wrote with ayayui and I would like to see more please and thank you :)

(Inspired by a scene in HDB)

Ayato's POV:

She's been avoiding me. I tried snatching her up earlier and she found a way out of that. I don't know what's gotten into her but there's no way in hell she gets to avoid me. I'll make her regret that. I wait for her after one of her stupid classes, I technically should be in that class too but what good will it be for me to learn human literature? Anyway, the students start exiting the classroom, I notice her titless self coming out, she always has this ditzy look on her face, it's hilarious. I quietly stalk behind her, making sure she doesn't even notice my shadow, which wasn't difficult at all. She's an airhead half the time. I cornered her at the staircase and revealed myself. I could see the sheer panic written all over her face. I welcomed that look, it definitely does it for me.

"Ayato...!!" She yells out, I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, it's the great Ayato, who you have been avoiding, why?" I questioned her, she wasn't looking me in the eye so I took my hand to grab her chin but she managed to escape, she really is an idiot, I can smell her 5 miles away. She ended up running into a storage room, I teleported in and made sure to lock and block the door. She's not going anywhere.

I push her up against the wall, taking her chin to look directly at me. Yet she still averts her gaze. "What's going on with you??" I asked her, I was seriously confused, she never acts like this. "Ayato..you really don't understand emotions at all.." she replies back, what does she mean by that? I gave her a confused expression and asked her what she was going on about, but then it dawned upon me. Ha! this cheeky virgin. "You're acting this way over a kiss? haha you're hilarious." I tell her, and she gets all defensive. "Well it wasn't really a kiss though! You were just drinking my blood from my lip..there's no way that would count as a kiss.." she says then looks down, I couldn't help but laugh a little at her, this was too cute. She's such an intriguing girl her reactions kinda turn me out. "You're right, I think I can give you some better kisses." I say and catch her off guard, I press my lips to hers and give her a nice lovers kiss. My tongue slips in and I can feel her melting, she's never been kissed like this, she's never been kissed in general, I'll be her first everything, I'll teach her body, mind and soul to obey me. I snake my hands to her butt, and I grip it tightly, she's got a pretty nice ass to make up for the lack of breasts. I smack it, and this catches her by surprise. She pulls away but I bring her back into the kiss, I'm not even close to done. But she pulls away again, she's panting like crazy, of course. Honestly she looked so enticing I couldn't help but kneel down, I told her to take off her panties, she refused. Of course she would refuse she's a lil virgin, not for long. I'm about to take her. I drip her legs and then take off her underwear, she tried crossing her legs, that won't stop me. Her attempts did fill me up with joy though, I liked seeing her fiery spirit, humans can be so lame sometimes. I pry open her legs and then place light kisses up her thigh, licking and sucking her inner thigh leaving my marks all over them, she was lightly moaning at this, but still telling me to stop, that's fine the more she hates it the more I will do it. I take a bite out of her thigh then take my finger, lapping some of her blood, I pop my fingers into my mouth to lick off the blood, I make sure I give her eye contact because then I place my fingers into her soaked sweet part. "A..Ayato why..?" She stuttered out, I smirked at her, and stuck my entire tongue in there, I licked it from bottom to top, but before I could go crazy on her, a 4 eyes clean freak opened the door and disrupted us.Oh man, here comes a lecture. "Ayato, I never imagined you would do such a vile thing at school, see to it that you both clean yourselves up and take these activities elsewhere." Looks like she's saved for now, I won't let her get away next time!

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

I wanna know more about your hypothetical fire emblem game.

>:3

Magic triangle is back but now the magic types are more varied than ever! Hopefully that will allow mages to feel much less samey across classes.

Dark Magic is the only magic type with siege tomes and some expensive tomes can also be used to summon additional units to help on the battlefield.

Light Tomes have a variety of defensive effects such as preventing criticals, having high avoid or increasing defence based on the user's magic.

Anima is the same as usual and focuses on dealing damage in a variety of ways.

The Lord's dad dies. so does their older brother. in the same chapter. and their mum died before the game began. rip girl. so anyway they swear vengeance on the assassins but after a few chapters realises that they should focus on their kingdom and slowly learn about the group that assassinated their family while trying to maintain order in the kingdom.

Romance options are the same regardless of gender. one of which can lead to tragic doomed toxic yuri </3 a few pairs of characters can also romance each other which leads to the funniest C support i have ever written. (not really a high bar tbh ive only written 2)

Multiple routes! In one you can side with the enemy!

Enemy bosses have cool bird themed names. You and one other character can also get cool bird names if you join the enemy :D

Klara is from here! Shes an early dark mage with not very magey stats! She's also slightly story important and would have cool supports if i actually wrote some and also didn't completely retcon the one that i already wrote for her and the Early Prepromote. Anyway, she is the heir to a successful merchant family business.

Oh and one guy betrays you. you can make him rejoin later depending on the route tho.

[raph-fangirl]

SHILOH ROSETTE'S MASTERPOST

It would be so much to me if you took the time to donate even $1. I am broke living with my conservative parents and my only income is from random house sitting jobs. I don't have a steady income and want to do art for a living. Anything is appreciated <3 I have tiers for monthly supporters but you can also do a one-time donation.

MY STORIES

❖ That Which We Call Beast - A Victorian-era Beauty and the Beast retelling. Has been described by some of my readers as: "If Jane Austen wrote Beauty and the Beast". Ongoing. First installment in the That Which We Call Beast trilogy.

❖ A Tale of the Shapeshifters - My first ever complete novel. A Beauty and the Beast retelling set in early 1900s Ireland. Two shapeshifters do their best to hide their secret from one another, but that soon becomes the least of their worries as the past unfurls itself.

❖ Demon x Reader (unedited) - A sexy, fun, romantic story of a woman who never realized she wanted anything other than her plain, vanilla life with her husband in the suburbs---that is, until a perverted demon steals her away.

Chapters 1 - 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

❖ When Lilies Pierce Thorns - The second installment of the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Has not been written yet.

❖ Melisande - Upcoming prequel/midquel to the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Focuses on our dearly beloved evil queen herself and her villain origin story.

❖ Raphael - Upcoming sequel to the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Focuses on our favorite wet pathetic man and his redemption arc.

❖ Tyler & Alaca - Childhood friends to lovers, with some werewolf and vampire shenanigans to make things interesting. Twilight and Castlevania lore but more original than fanfic.

❖ Forte-Piano - A Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas prequel. Forte is determined to become the castle composer, but will this ambitious young pianist get in his way? BxB

❖ Shark x Mermaid story (title tba) - A young mermaid is desperately in love with a human, but has been betrothed to a mer-prince. In the midst of her predicament, she meets a were-shark who annoys her to no end and challenges her entire worldview, but that she can't stay away from.

❖ Donatello x OC TMNT fic (title tba) - Donnie has always loved April from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Even though April is now dating Casey Jones, and he and his brothers have become friends with a new outsider girl--Serafina--Donnie can't help but still harbor feelings for her. When he starts spending more time with Serafina, will he let his old feelings go or will he make a mess bigger than anyone could have ever imagined?

❖ In the Garden of the Witch - Completed short story. Hedy is so ready to be married to the love of her life, Bruno. Even if he is a beast, he has the soul of a man. But one day, something changes in him, and he leaves her. Will she be able to find him as she travels through the wilderness? Will Bruno recapture his humanity? Or will a conniving witch mess everything up for the two lovers?

❖ Dandelion - Completed short story in the middle of edits. Dandelion does not know what it means to have a family or to love another person. So what will happen one night when two people who say they knew her parents randomly show up asking for her help?

❖ He Who Dares Not Grasp the Thorn Should Never Crave the Rose - Beauty and the Beast one-shots and short stories for all versions. From the original myths, to Madame Villeneuve's novel, to Jean Cocteau's film, to Disney's movies, and beyond! Feel free to commission or request a piece.

❖ My Fair Ladyhood & Other Short Stories - Incomplete collection of short stories I've written and will continue to write.

Includes My Fair Ladyhood, an imitative memoir I wrote for a class: Southern Women's Literature. This is an extremely personal piece that explores my relationships throughout my life thus far, as well as my issues with body image and eating disorders.

And Nolan's Flood: Charlotte McPherson is the only girl—and one of the only people—in the town of Roadsdale who can read. This makes her particularly interesting to the local doctor and part-time Sunday school teacher, Mr. Nolan. Although they don't know each other well, the two make plans to marry. But how long will this courtship last in the face of tragedy?

COMMISSIONS

Tba

EDITING/REVIEWING SERVICES

Tba

[cleradinel]

Genuine Q: how is the boys only sign a gay proof for Mike Wheeler and a sign that he isn’t bi? Isn’t he just saying “Boys Only” because they go into a men’s space? Like they weren’t gonna go into a women’s bathroom/locker room? And Lucas goes with them, so if that’s “gay Mike proof,” wouldn’t that make Lucas gay too? Saying “boys only” is not a gay thing either in general, lots of media has moments where straight male characters break off for “bro talk” or “just the guys” and it has nothing to do with their sexuality. Are guys not allowed to socialize with their gender without it being a queercoding clue? (Is it lesbian when girls go into the bathroom together?)

see i was debating the value of presenting my arguments because i truly don't know if you're up for civil discussing or not, but i'm giving you the benefit of the doubt here.

dear anon. your first mistake here is watching and thinking of the show as one dimentional : aka, you think of mike as a person with free will figuring out how to go about trapping a dangerous murderous cunt inside a sauna. in a non meta way, in their world, it is absolutely what's happening, it's just mike stating "i figured something out, will, lucas, follow me." but a tv show is two dimentional : there is a meta layer to the dialogues, to the set design, to the character blocking etc. there are a lot of thoughts put into those decisions, and writers have a lot of fun figuring out how stuff something that on surface level is innocent and devoid of importance with double meaning. i'll give you one example, when will is encouraging el when she's called to do a presentation for class, you can read the word "HENRY" above his neck. in THEIR world, this is just a random name that happens to have been written on a piece of paper and stuck to the wall after discussing whatever henry dude will and el's curiculum asked the teachers of california to talk about. in OUR world, as people watching a tv show, the set design decision to place it here, the director's decision to have the cameraman do this specific shot and to place noah in this specific way is foreshadowing. it's a hint. it's a meta detail. it SHOULD mean something to you. another example ! jason telling lucas "you first hangover feels like you're going to split in two" is not about jason knowing he was quite literally going to end up split in two, he is just recounting his experience with his first hangover to lucas. to US, in a meta way, it's significant, because it was foreshadowing, it was a hint, it was MEANINGFUL. it wasn't a random choice of words from the writers that coincidentally ended up lining up with jason's death down the line. it was INTENTIONAL. jason as a person was not saying anything more than just "man hungovers are a real bitch lol", jason as a tv show character was quite literally telling us how he was going to meet his demise. another one : max in the school's bathroom. there is a graffiti on the wall with "i see you" and a little doodle of two blue eyes. in their world, whoever wrote this was obviously not doing this in vecna's name. it's a random person who randomly decided oto have some fun and graffiti this particular thing. in a meta way, this is referencing vecna. it's not a coincidence. especially considering this is a max scene and her arc is very closely linked to vecna this season. do you see where i'm going with this ? mike in hawkins indiana 1985, saying "i have an idea, boys only." is just letting lucas and will know that he figured out how to stop billy and that this plan requires going somewhere max and el can't follow. in their world, that's it ! but in our world, in the double meaning way (which is a very real thing, if you insinuate the stranger things dialogue, or most of cinema dialogues are "not that deep" you are quite literally insulting writers everywhere, like. straight up), in the "this is a character who's words are chosen by someone else with purpose" way, this particular phrasing is meaningful. he didn't say "i have a plan, follow me to the men's locker room guys". the writers chose a specific phrasing. it's even more obvious recontextualized : mike JUST fought with will, who told him his obsession with growing up was ruining them and the party. mike, affected by those words tries to figure out what that whole argument and his own reaction to it means to and for him. he has an idea to figure it out, and it is to let himself wander into "what if... i was..." territory as we do see in the second half of S3. (i would include screencaps but i can't be bothered rn)

mike's reaction at the end of s3 aka the conclusion of his S3 arc (in 3 parts : pushing dnd and queerness away because it's not socially acceptable -> why am i even doing this ? why am i acting like this -> right. i'm actually gay and terrified to be.) goes something like this : a scene flirting with will, followed by a scene of el kissing him and not reciprocating, followed by a scene that is shot in the same way a scene in which a character realizes something shows us the conclusion that mike has come to about himself : yes, he is gay. his own theory about himself actually being into boys was the correct theory. i think that answers the second part of your ask. someone choosing for mike to lay out his plans with this choice of words at this particular moment in the story is heavy queercoding. had it been dustin (random choice, he wasn't even there), whose narrative is simply not mike's, it would have been meaningless. it wouldn't even have been worded like that. in the case of mike, because it is mike and because of the nature of his storyline, it isn't.

[signed-heart]

you open your shoe locker and a letter falls out, landing at your feet with its back side upwards to you. your name was written in familiar cursive—your best friend, suzue, had written it—and around it were heart shaped stickers obnoxiously stickered to form an even bigger heart around your name. at first glance, you could assume that the letter was from the girl herself; however, upon opening it, you were met with a typed up letter in 12pt times new roman. 

and you half cringe. 

“Dearest Y/N,

I am typing this letter to let you know of my feelings for you. I have thunk well and hard about the way you maketh thy muscle in mines chest swell, and butterflies appear within the linings of my stomach.

OK I’m just kidding LOL!! 

I’ll get to the real confession already. 

Hi Y/N

For a while now I’ve actually been thinking about confessing to you. Time feels like it’s running out for some reason and maybe it’s because I feel like someone else just might confess to you before I do. So I thought now was the best time. I wondered how I should do it and it’s no surprise that I asked your best friend for advice right? So here I am… Suzue said it’d be super funny to confess like this and I’m not going to lie, it is pretty funny and interesting, especially once I hit you with the plot twist. But, I digress (for now).

You are, simply put, someone I adore and only wish good things for. You’ve made me feel plenty of things throughout the time we’ve known each other and sometimes (most times) I don’t have the words to describe them. I get all giddy around you, whether it’s because you’re smiling for yourself or smiling for me. Maybe especially when you’re smiling for yourself—seeing you happy on its own just makes me happy (and wouldn’t you say that’s enough for us to know I’ve got a crush on you? haha). I’m not sure whether or not this sounds much like a confession now that I think about it, but I don’t want to be cringe-y and unoriginal by saying things like oh you’re so beautiful, oh you make my heart skip a beat, oh I wanna hold hands with you (I do)—I wanted to be a little more unique so that it’d be memorable, you know??? So, if it doesn’t seem as romantic, just read it like it is! haha. 

Plus, this isn’t the whole confession itself.

Let’s play a game, Y/N! and I know you’ll play because you’re nosy and you’ll never let yourself live down never knowing who wrote (typed LOL) this letter. I’ll give you 7 business days (meaning, excluding the weekend hahahaha) to find me. Once you’re certain it’s me, hmmmm tell me how I signed off on this letter. That way only I’ll know what you’re talking about. Isn’t that exciting? You don’t even know who I am but you and I already have a little secret. 

Well, actually, someone else is unfortunately in on this secret… Go see Suzue for your one and only clue! 

I’ll see you soon cutie ;D

signed, ♡”

it’s only 8:00am and you don’t have to be in your homeroom for another 30 minutes. you know suzue is most likely still in the gymnasium as she is the boys volleyball team’s manager. you also knew you two would meet for lunch, as always. however, if you head to her now, you would have more time to let the clue settle in… 

what do you do? 

head to the gym to see suzue

head to class and try to analyze the letter on your own

throw the letter in the trash

[gr63wdc]

‘If you have questions the asks are open’ you know what I’m about to ask about o7, beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair. Or tbh any of your other wips I like hearing people talk about their wips :3c

(I was half tempted to just dm you but you said asks so ask it is >:))

erika, you've given me the amazing opportunity to rant about my wips/fics so i am going to utilize it. i'll tell you about the beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair first, and everything else below the cut (for context, here is that wip summary poll). :DDDDDD

beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair this is my wag au for the fest!!!! i have talked to many a friend (including you) about this wip, and everyone seems to be very excited which i am happy about :)) basically, it's loscar with trans girl logan as the wag. they're very sweet and in love and it is simultaneously annoying and adorable to all of their friends. the main cast also includes max fewtrell (my beloved) as oscar's teammate at mclaren, lando norris as logan's bestie and max's wag, fred vesti as the most amazing supportive friend anyone could ask for, and a few other things that i am still working out (lawnsonoda is a very real thing that may or may not be included in this fic). i plan for it to be a semi linear narrative, by having the 2023 f1 season as the main thing but with flashbacks, social media, and other things sprinkled throughout. you have seen some of my outrageous planning and this will be a behemoth when i am done. i'm so excited!!!!!

gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss, george russell <3 imagine with me: george russell was born georgiana russell. so she's like if irl george was 50 times more neurotic and worried about what people thought of her. it will also be secret relationship gax (gasp... tuser gaxpodium writing gax... crazy...) and overprotective girl dad toto.

can the ghost of enzo ferrari fix my relationship? catholicism and being italian go hand in hand, so we're translating that religious fervor into f1. teams have a patron god (usually someone important to that brand or team) and surprise surprise, enzo ferrari is the patron god of the scuderia ferrari f1 team. your fealty and worship to your patron god will greatly impact your race results. this is angst central, with deeply heavy lore, so it will take me a while. and it focuses mainly on sewis and charlos (and how they deal with the whole "ferrari chewed me up and spit me out and you're still worshiping him" thing)

first a fan, then a teammate, then things got really mushy anyone else deeply impacted by leaf's dando video edit to "love of my life" by harry styles? no, only me? but i'm serious, this is entirely based on my visceral and life-changing reaction to that video. it changed me as a person...

uptight british bitch versus kind-of-rude dutch dickhead actually the first bit of rpf i ever wrote. it started as an assignment for my fiction 1 class (crazy...) and will probably be pretty short when i actually post it (no more than 10k words probably). it's a two part canon compliant gax fic, one part from george's perspective and one from max's. there's not much to say about this one since there's very little planning for it lol

what if three guys were in love but they were all stupid about it? it's geochalex. i feel like this should be obvious for me, but the three guys who are stupid and in love? geochalex. my notes rn for this fic mainly consist of the words "geochalex miscommunication!!!!!!!" so like yeah, that's the stupid right there

there are a few other wips/ideas that i forgot about when making the poll including a chalex apocalypse au that is inspired by the last of us (and also written for my fiction 1 class)

[pupsclawz]

Okay, so Miller's girl

I read the script (idk if they use the one I read)

Here's my summary

Cairo is attending her last year of school. She has some kind of writing/English class taught my Jonathan Miller.

She has a bestfriend named Winnie who unlike her, Winnie is a bit of a tease (shows of a lot of skin, flirts... etc)

Winnie has a lax and tease-y relationship with one of the teachers, Boris, I believe who coincidentally is Mr. Miller's and his Wife's close friend

Throughout the script, Cairo is regarded as this straight As, smart student who's all business and no fun, as I said, unlike Winnie (Although I do think she has fun)

As we go through the script, we see Cairo and Mr. Miller's relationship turn from Student-Teacher to what I can only describe as how you would treat and talk to a Peer.

Okay, now. It's midterms and papers are due for classes. This is where the whole script is turned on it's head. Basically students are to write in the style of an author they like, kinda like a mentor text/author. Cairo, being Cairo asked if she could do Henry Miller (Basically the script says he writes erotica or smth) even though it's not on the approved list

Mr. Jonathan Miller, seeing her as a peer/or something more, said yes and said that he trusts her.

I should mention that a little before this point (I think), Winnie has been hinting to Cairo about how Cairo likes Mr. Miller and vise versa.

One day, Cairo stops by Mr. Miller's room to receive feedback for her midterm (she sent it to him previously). It's a story about how a Teacher and student had an affair.

Mr. Miller gets mad and they got into a fight. Cairo made a point by saying how he doesn't like it only because of how it made him feel.

After the fight, and Cairo refusing to write another one from another author, their "relationship" is a wreck

Anyways, Cairo, having been rejected (her project and her proposal for Mr. Miller (she wanted coitus)), drops her story off at the Vice Principal, (The paper had a "To Jonathan From Cairo" written on it)

Jon (Mr. Miller) goes home to his wife and his wife basically asks what Cairo wrote and Mr. Miller recited it to her (He has eidetic memory and he gave the story back to Cairo).

His wife, a writer, said it was good. (I thought this was funny for some reason)

Now a little later, the Vice Principal calls Mr. Miller cause they've seen Cairo's paper.

Now at the end of the school day the next day, Cairo and Mr. Miller are at the vice principals office. The Vice Principal questions them and, man does it look bad for Mr. Miller.

Mr. Miller has been suspended and went home to a mad wife. They fight because of Mr. Miller's "affair" with Cairo and how he "touched" a minor

Now on Cairo's, side Winnie confronts Cairo about avoiding her. Winnie finds out that Cairo is testifying against Mr. Miller in court despite nothing happened and Cairo was the one that wanted coitus.

Okay so after this it just goes into a narrative with scenes flashing and changing, as well as fantasy scenes.

The narrative is what I assume Cairo wrote. It's basically sexual stuff with "Mr. Murphy" the teacher in her story.

The flashes are of Masturbation and Cairo/Mr. Miller's fantasies of doing sexual acts to each other, although it doesn't show anything (I'd say it's more of a like than a lemon)

After this whole narrative it cuts to Mr.Miller sitting outside the court house, smoking.

Cairo and her parents walked toward him. Cairo was described as "looks terribly young"

The script ends with a Voice Over of Cairo saying "checkmate"

Tl;dr: Nothing actually happened between Cairo and Mr. Miller. Cairo was the one that wanted it and was pushed by her friend Winnie. Cairo sued Mr. Miller in what I assume is revenge.

[creativepawsworld]

Everything But You - Part 8

Pairing = Cillian Murphy x OC

Summary = Finally these two have got their stuff together. 

Warnings = Language, Grammar, 90s Cillian, Insults, SEX, Mature 18+ only please. 

Word Count = 2304

Note = There is only two chapters of this left and I actually have the last chapter wrote already! So it will be coming to an end soon. Thank you all for the continuous support. (PS I do not own the gif I found it on pinterest, fanpop)

Pouring my heart and soul into the books in front of me, I felt my eyes come together. I had been here for the past four hours, studying each bit of text that I squeeze into my brain.

End-of-year finals were just around the corner and the outcome of the test would determine your future in the course of Law. You did have the chance to resit if you wanted, but everyone knew they wouldn’t look at you the same.

Holding my head in my hands so that I didn’t fall forward and face-plant the table. I willed myself awake when a set of heavy footsteps caught my attention. Whoever it was, was rushing through the library floors, disturbing everyone inside.

Peering around one of the tall, looming bookshelves I saw Cillian. I could hear his exhausted breathing from where I sat as he looked through every bookcase opening towards the tables at the end looking for me.

“Cillian.” I called in a harsh whisper, earning myself a disgruntled ‘ssh’ from the girl on the table next to me. Rolling my eyes, I brought his attention to me, waving my hand inviting him over.

The first thing I noticed was the wide grin on his lips that reached his eyes. Those blue eyes I had found myself falling more and more in love with over the past few months.

After confirming our feelings for one another at the competition - in which I became the Champion again. We had become inseparable. I would spend my weekends travelling around Ireland with him and his band, much to Casey’s dismay. He didn’t like me very much and I never understood why, I didn’t do anything to him, not that I could recall anyway.

Inhaling loudly he kneeled in front of me, the grin never leaving his face as he took my hands into his.

“I did it, I actually fucking did it.” He breathed out. Furrowing my eyebrows I stared down at him confused, racking my brain trying to find out which one of the many things he did.  “I got a call back for that play Disco Pigs. I got a freaking call back.”

“No way.” I gasped eyes widening in excitement for him. Cillian and I had travelled to the Dublin Theatre, skipping our classes last Tuesday so he could audition for this new play written by Enda Walsh.  “No freaking way.”

“I swear to fuck. They want me back tomorrow. I can’t believe it.” He spoke a little too loudly earning himself another ‘ssh’ from the same girl I had received one from, her eyes glaring in our direction.

“Come on some people don’t know how to take a breather sometimes.” I hissed glaring over my shoulder towards the girl. Her eyes widened at my words but she didn’t reply. Sticking her face back into her book while I packed away my things.

“Can you believe it? I actually have a chance at a stage show. Me?” Cillian whispered excitedly. Reaching out he took my heavy backpack from my hands, tossing one strap over his shoulder, disregarding my protests completely, as if he didn’t hear them.

“I can actually. You were amazing at that audition. I’m surprised they haven’t offered you the part yet.” I grinned proudly, lacing our fingers together.

The sun peaked through the clouds once we left the university library. Cillian was walking next to me like he was floating on air, I was just basking in his company and glad to be away from Osbourne Law and Limits book. It was tediously long and boring.

“What should we do to celebrate?” I asked leaning into his side, nuzzling my face into his upper arm, and inhaling heavily on his scent.

“I can think of a few things.” He grinned with a wink. Taking my free arm into his, he twirled me around in front of him before pulling me tight into his chest with a soft ‘oomph’. “Your place?” He asked with a small smirk pulling on the edges of his lips.

*****

“My dad might be home.” I pouted. At that moment Cillian leaned forward, opening his mouth and gently biting my pouted lips. Pulling away with a laugh I reached up wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket.

“Only one way to find out.”

Walking around the house, my fingers danced along many of the furniture surfaces as I looked for any sign of life. It was a Thursday afternoon, my father was always home for lunch around now but it seems today was different. He was gone.

“All clear” I grinned finalising my search in the kitchen. Spinning around to face Cillian he leaned cockily against the door frame, a sheet of white notepaper in his hands.

“I know” He chuckled extending his arm forward, handing me a handwritten note from my father explaining he had a late meeting and wouldn’t be home until after dinner.

“Why didn’t you say anything when you found this?” I asked placing the note on the kitchen side. I unzipped my jacket as I waited for his answer, shrugging the material from my shoulders, and allowing it to drop to the floor.

“I like watching you walk around…” Cillian grinned watching my hands play with the hem of my t-shirt, slowly lifting the light material around my stomach before removing it completely. “That ass is just…” He trailed off with a chef’s kiss.

“You checking out my ass Mr Murphy?” I asked, turning around so my back was to him and pushing my ass out as far as I could. “This little thing right here?” I asked, reaching around with my hand and gently gliding it along the two plush cheeks before grabbing a good handful of myself.

“FUCKKK” Cillian whined dropping to his knees and crossing the short gap between us. I couldn’t stop the giggle escaping my lips as he shuffled forward on his knees, I could only imagine the sharp pains he was feeling due to the tiled floor beneath him.

“Ah, ah. Only good boys get that.” I was quick to tell him, turning around to face him just as he reached me.

Falling forward, his arms wrapped around my waist. His face buried in my lower stomach causing the breath to stick in my throat.

“Maybe this is what I wanted all along.” He grinned. Blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he placed soft, gentle, pecks lower and lower until he opened his mouth to cup the outside of my clothed core.

“Jesus, Cill” I whined, hips involuntarily bucking forward against his mouth. Cillian released a deep groan at the movement sending shock waves throughout the lower half of my body. “My room, please now.”

“Whys that? I wanna eat and the best place for that is right here in the kitchen.” Cillian winked, running a long index finger along my clothed lips. I couldn’t stop myself as my head fell back into pure bliss.

*****

  This man was going to be the death of me.

“Fuck I love this pussy.” Cillian groaned from below me. His eyes were closed in pleasure as I ground my hips down against his.

After eating me out in the kitchen earlier this afternoon, I couldn’t wait for another second to have him. Taking him by the black belt looped through his jeans. I had dragged him up the stairs and into my room, throwing him onto my bed and returning the favour before climbing on top of him.

Sinking on his impressively long, thick cock. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I perched myself on top of him, hands resting on his chest. I could feel his fingers digging into my hips as he held me in place, allowing me to adjust to his size.

“It was made just for me,” Cillian spoke, voice hushed as I squeezed my walls around him. “Fucking hell Brie.” He gasped, pushing the longer strands of his hair back from his face. “Do that again.”

“What this?” I asked, contracting my walls once more. Biting on my bottom lip, I watched his face contort into pleasure at the sensations my body was giving him.

“Yes, fuck, yes that.” He groaned, pulling on my hips so that my clit was grinding against his crotch, creating the most delicious friction.

Swallowing back a small moan at the movement, I lifted my hips slowly before slamming back down - shivers erupted throughout my body at the forced contact.

“Cill” I whimpered, repeating the action. His hands helped to slam me down into him. I had to close my eyes at the sheer blissful, pleasure. His tip was pushing against the lining of my cervix, I had no problem feeling him and he felt so good.

“I can’t… I won’t… I won’t last long if youkeepdoingthat.” I had to rush out, my words getting lost in my throat as his movements picked up to an almost unbearable speed.

“That’s alright, let go for me. Let me feel you cum all over my cock.” Cillian forced out through gritted teeth, his pleasure consuming him. “Fuck just give it to me.” He demanded.

Becoming a whimpering mess above him, I could barely keep my eyes open at his unforgiving force. Cillian noticing, flipped me over so I was now on my back, staring up into his glassed-over blue eyes – lost in pleasure.

“I said cum” He growled, his breath hitting off my face, shattering my entire control.

The band had snapped, the balloon burst and a bright white light had me squeeze my eyes shut. A silent scream escaped my throat, and my nails dug into his biceps, scratching down towards his forearms. I was consumed with pleasure. Lost in it.

I barely had time to register Cillian’s stuttered movements, when he collapsed onto top of me. His sweat-covered skin, mixed with my own. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to me so I could bury my face in his neck - inhaling his scent.

“You’re amazing,” Cillian whispered in my ear, placing light kisses along the shell. “Fucking mind-blowing.”

“Your not too bad yourself Cill.” I giggled, feeling a deep blush setting in my cheeks as I held him close.

“BRIE YOU HOME?” I heard the voice of my father.

Cillian pulled away from me immediately, his eyes wide as we check the small clock next to my bedside table. 1822, where did the time go?

“In my room dad, I’ll be out in a minute. Just out of the shower.” I grimaced in a panic. Cillian turned around to look at me, eyes glancing from my flushed ‘fucked out’ cheeks to my slightly damp hair. “I panicked,” I whispered harshly throwing an oversized t-shirt over my head.

“Brie?”

“He’s gonna fucking kill me”

“Not if we get you out without him noticing.” I countered back, tossing Cillian’s jacket towards him before slipping on a pair of shorts. “Where are your shoes?” I asked, frantically lifting the messed-up duvet and checking under the bed.

“Downstairs,” Cillian spoke, his face turning sheet white.

“Okay, okay it’s fine. I’ll go down first and you follow after me.” I nodded pushing the damp hair from my forehead, shoving it towards the back of my neck with the rest of it. “I’ll take him into the kitchen, you leave through the front door.”

“Okay, good plan.” He nodded.

Opening the door to my room, I checked either side before slowly emerging. Looking over my shoulder I gesture quietly for Cillian to follow after me as we descended the stairs.

“Ah, there you are darling. How was studying?” My father asked, appearing from the living room his glasses resting halfway down his nose. His phone was in his hand, he was reading a text.

“Yeah, it was good, insightful.” I laughed awkwardly. Using my hand to push the air back – silently telling Cillian to go back, and get off the stairs. “Lots of things to do…learn I mean. Lots of things to learn.” I corrected.

My father looked up from his phone briefly. A smile pulled at his lips but he was fighting it. “I was thinking of takeout for dinner tonight. What do you think?” He asked pulling the small frames from his face and resting them behind the slits in his dress shirt.

“Sounds amazing, let’s go to the kitchen. Look at some menus?” I smiled, skipping down the remaining stairs to stand next to him. I intended to get him walking with me, giving Cillian the chance for a clean getaway but he wasn’t moving.

“Won’t Cillian be joining us?” My father asked the smile that was fighting to fall onto his face finally appearing.

“Cill…I…what would Cillian be doing here?” I asked feeling rather flustered. My hands came up to my face, pushing aside any hair that fell into its path.

“Brianna I am not stupid, I was young once. Your mother and I were at the same thing.” My father laughed, placing a soft hand on my shoulder before turning around to look at the staircase.

Looking past him I saw Cillian standing on the bottom step, looking between my father and the front door, a sheepish smile on his face. We had been caught.

“Alright sir” Cillian awkwardly laughed, I could see it on his face. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Alright son, you have a nice afternoon?”

“DAD” I squealed, slapping his chest. I could only assume my face was as red as the ripest tomato but my reaction to his question just made him laugh in response.

“Look, I don’t care what you do regarding that area of your life. Just keep it wrapped yeah?”

Taglist 

@stars-of-scorpio @lovemissyhoneybee @peakyscillian​ @cillmequick​ @forgottenpeakywriter​ @lyarr24  @brummiereader

[skullchicken]

heyyy you can help me out if you like because I have choice paralysis about which project to work on while I take a break from my other projects ;_;

More Info/Synopsis under the cut!

(Sorted from how long they've been rotated from most to least so far)

Action/fantasy webtoon about a cursed school where students turn into monsters:

The class clown turns into an actual monster-clown, the sporty girls become cheerleader-zombies, the annoying little elementary school brats turn into screaming dolls and the teachers turn into boss monsters.

The only three people seemingly unaffected are Miyako (metalhead, bff of Cally), Cally (goody two-shoes, Miyako's bff) and Achintya (nerd, unrelated). With the former two, the reasons seems because they're not quite human themselves. But what's up with that shady little nerd? And he seems to know more than he lets on...

Whatever the case may be, they must lift the curse before things escalate.

Okay, so, imagine a Shounen Manga, except the demographic is all genders and women are people. Miyako, since she's secretly a demon, takes after a typical shounen battle protagonist, while Cally is a fairy and falls more into the magical girl mold. As for Achintya... he's complicated.

Shadowrun-action-romance-novel about fixing malicious DRM on cyberware, m/f

Working title: You owe me

A story about maliciously designed cyberware, trust-issues, debt, being in your twenties, guilt and a wrestler-elf and hacker-dwarf being dumbass idiots who pine for one another and secretly think the other person is the best thing since sliced bread. Slow-ish burn.

The good news is, I have like a hundred pages already written. The bad news is, I would have to rewrite a lot of it because my writing process has changed a lot. But let me say no more, take a gander at our romantic leads, ladies, gentlemen and those that lieth betwinxt:

64.media.tumblr.com

64.media.tumblr.com

He is wearing a gorilla mask for plot-reasons.

Webtoon fantasy/romance remake of a story where a girl marries the carrot king

There is an german fairytale written by the guy who also wrote the nutcracker which is bonkers and hilarious and I'd looove to adapt it into webtoon format. I wrote about it here: click meee

I would update the story so it takes place in modern times and deals with the issue of aesthetics versus being... (think e.g. cottagecore versus actual farming) in short "it is fine and dandy to dream, in fact it's very important... but if you're too keen to only believe what you want to be true, you're gonna get duped."

But most importantly it would give me ample reason to draw a carrot with a handsome anime-face.

Shadowrun-mystery-novel about the worship of dragons (Blackout Sequel)

I wrote a shadowrun short story about loneliness, vulnerability, yakuza and mysterious lemon cake. I have ideas for a sequel - granted they are quite nebulous as of now, but I'm confident I'm reaching the point where I can start fleshing them out. This time around the story would be longer and more involved. The theme would be the worship of dragons, not just in the literal sense, but also in how people relate to power.

We would also see how the relationship between Hanne and Amanda progresses. I personally wish friendships would receive as much attention and nuance as romantic relationships and here I would attempt such a thing.

Webtoon-action-romance about the housing market and identity, f/f

Anansi and Muu meet, one day, via the matrix, when they stumble upon each other trying to get entry into the same matrix club. The reason they're here are quite different. Muu, a corporate princess, just hit her thirtieth birthday, only received presents she didn't like and has a minor crisis about it. Anansi, who is a technomancer, is always on the run and here to meet a Mr Johnson.

While Muu's journey is, at first, internal, as she starts to try out different avatars to figure out who she even is, Anansi holds on for dear life as a squatter and, gets screwed over with the payment and sets out to find that damn Johnson to make him pay one way or another.

Their paths in life are quite different, yet they keep running into each other and, despite everything, find themselves drawn to each other.

And then it turns out their worlds are not as far apart as suspected.

I would be quite excited about this one because I've never written a f/f romance before, despite being very, very bi (granted I've also never finished writing a m/f romance, but still). Mostly I just really like the characters and I think the story would be solid and not too convoluted... as mine tend to get sometimes :,)

... but I'm equally excited to do all of these! What do you say?