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eternal-evergreens · 1 month ago

Text

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass - IV"｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Non/Con, Mental Breakdown, Hallucinations, Implied rape of a background character, Virginity Kinks, Age Gaps, Choking, Gagging, Bondage

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

It is Saturday, the 10th of September, 2022. -It has been 6 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,799 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are wide awake Stress: You are strained Trauma: You are troubled Control: You are scared Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You clock into the spa as soon as it opens, your mind a haze as you greet the receptionist.

Then, you blink, and you’re outside. It’s dark.

…What?

You turn around. You’re right outside the spa, but the closed sign is up. Furrowing your brow, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone.

21:06

Something else catches your eye.

Current funds: £1,799

Woah, you must have worked all day. But you don’t remember even a single client. You check your current condition again, but you aren’t under the influence of any drugs or alcohol. Could it be psychological? Could it be that your stress has been rising, causing you to disassociate and lose time?

You should probably check yourself into a hospital, but that’s not exactly an option here. Feeling tense and nervous, you put your phone back into your bag, only to brush your hands against something cold and metallic. You pull it out, and it’s a watch. It looks expensive.

Fuck, did you steal this? You shove it back into your bag and feel your hand brush against even more metal. You duck into an alleyway and empty your purse. Aside from the watch, you found a ring, two necklaces, and another less-expensive-looking watch. You bite your thumb as you check your journal.

You are carrying: £3,210 in stolen goods.

Your eyes bulge. You have to return these, you have to—

You hear a loud crash from somewhere not too far from you. Startled, you whip your head up to see a hooded figure standing over an overturned trashcan. The figure is walking your way, so you grab the stolen things off the floor and run.

You aren’t sure where you’re going or for how long, but by the time you’re finally sure you lost them, you’re standing on Cliff Street. You use a streetlight as support while you catch your breath, trying to think of what you can do.

First, you’ll have to go back to the spa tomorrow. You’ll have to come up with something, some excuse or reason or justification, and get the receptionist to go back and check who came in that day, call each of them and then ask if they’ve lost anything, and then-

You hear a sniffle and look up. It’s coming from the pillory. There’s a woman locked there, her bottom half completely exposed. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, trying to make herself look smaller. She’s trying to hide.

Your heart throbs as you approach. She hears your footsteps, and a look of sheer petrification overcomes her expression. You still your movements.

>Help the girl —Trauma ++Stress >Leave +Trauma +Stress

“It’s okay,” you say softly. The woman looks up at you with a scared expression, and you realize you were wrong in your description. This isn’t a woman, but a girl your age. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She eyes you warily, and you look around. There’s no one here, so you pull your shirt off and approach the girl, who looks like she might be on the verge of a breakdown.

“It’s okay,” you say as you kneel to tie your shirt around her waist. You notice something sticky on her skin, and you feel your heart sink even further. You feel your face crease as you imagine everything she must have gone through until now. You want to help this girl.

You brush yourself off as you stand, suddenly aware of your shirtlessness. There’s still no one around, but you know how dangerous this is. You’re basically a sitting duck, as things are. ++Stress You smile at the girl. “I’ll be back,” you say. She nods slightly, looking confused.

You all but run back to the orphanage, where you change your shirt and grab some spare clothes. Then, you head over to the local convenience store to pick up some water and snacks. It only takes 15 minutes, and soon, you’re back in front of the girl.

“I brought you some food and water, as well as some actual clothes. I, uh, also brought some underwear in case you wanted some. It’s clean, but I get it if you don’t want to touch it. Oh! I picked up some wipes, too. I’d have to clean you, though.” Your face feels a little hot with embarrassment, but you try not to show it.

The girl, looking quite bashful, nods with a pink face. “I’d really appreciate that,” she says. You nod and begin to wipe her down, avoiding the sensitive areas. Then, you help her put on your clothes and help her with the snacks and water. She looks much better by the end of it.

“Thank you,” the girl says softly. “I’d almost forgotten there were nice people in this town.” You smile at her. “You don’t even know what I did, but you helped me anyway.”

“I don’t need to,” you say firmly. “No one deserves to be treated like this.” She smiles at you. A real, genuine smile. You feel like you’ve done something worth doing tonight. —Trauma

“Thank you again,” she says, looking at the ground.

“Of course,” you say. “How much longer do you have to be in there?”

“Still another two hours. I’ve been out here for eighteen already.” She looks to the side. “Got caught stealing.” You feel a chill wash over you as your bag seems to double in weight.

“...What did you steal?”

“A watch, among some other things.”

“Huh?” Your heart begins to beat violently in your chest as pressure engulfs your head. You can’t move. Oxygen becomes hard to come by as your ears ring and your head spins. You feel dizzy like you might fall. But your body doesn’t move.

The girl’s face contorts horrifically as she screams out in agony, her skin melting and bubbling. You see horns begin to poke out from under her skin as her eyes fall back into her head and disappear. You hear fire crackling in your ears, your eyes so wide they’re sore as the scene in front of you plays out. There’s fire everywhere, the girl looks like the devil and—

She stops convulsing, and the world goes quiet. The last thing you want is to get closer, but you’re not in control of your own body. You approach carefully, hesitantly. The girl’s head snaps to you.

She’s wearing your face. +++Trauma +++Stress

You start screaming. You scream and scream, your lungs burning and every muscle in your face throbbing as sheer and utter terror overtakes your senses.

You’re still thrashing when you finally come to your senses, your mouth open in an ‘O’ shape. Your jaw is sore, and you’re in an alley on the ground, drenched in sweat and dry heaving.

You check your phone.

21:11

Feeling battered and exhausted, you stand up and brush yourself off before heading home, where you take a long, hot bath. By the time you’re out, it’s nearly midnight. Already dressed in your pajamas, you drag yourself back to your bed and collapse into it. You think about everything you’ve been through since coming here—those damned fragments you have to collect and now a psychotic episode.

You think about the fragment you just collected and the pandora’s box of worms that comes with it. You open your phone and stare at the screen, your mind both empty and overflowing as your eyes trail the words in front of you. You feel numb every time you look at it, a sinking feeling in your stomach you’re becoming all too familiar with.

Sighing, you push the racing thoughts out of your mind, knowing you’ll get no answers tonight.

You roll over and go to sleep, though you sleep very poorly.

—————————

It is Sunday, the 11th of September, 2022. -It has been 7 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,799 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are tense Trauma: You are disturbed Control: You are scared Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You’re awoken by a loud rapping on your door. You blearily get up to check, but the nuisance has already barged in.

“Time to pay up,” Bailey says. You nod and hand him the money.

“Good. You came through. Next week I want £300.”

You nod slightly, and he leaves. You roll over and go back to sleep. By the time you wake up, it’s 09:36, and the spa is open. You debate in your head over whether or not you should clock in, knowing what happened yesterday. You have enough money to be good on the payment for next week, and even the next two weeks after that, but complacency could get you sold as pudding if you’re not careful, and you have no idea what kind of expenses you’ll run into in the future.

Feeling a little like you might be making a bad call, you ready yourself to go to work. When you enter the spa, the receptionist greets you cheerfully.

“I’m glad you came in today,” he says. “Business has really improved since you started working here. People keep asking for you.”

“They do?” You feel like someone just dumped a bucket of cold water over your head. You know they aren’t asking for your skills. The receptionist is about to answer when he gets a call and shoos you away, so you decide to drop it and head in.

Your first client is obviously eyeing you up, but doesn’t try anything. He tips okay. +£60

Your second client tries to get you to undress with her, but doesn’t do anything when you refuse. She tips well. +£120

Your third client doesn’t even greet you before he’s trying to take off your clothes and touch you! He lunges for you and grasps your arms in his hands as he pushes you onto the table. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he says, raspy and lowly. “Waited for hours just to reserve your time. This is happening.” ++Stress

You struggle under his arms, but he’s too strong. He leans in for a kiss, but you turn your head away.

Not one to be discouraged, however, he goes for your neck instead, licking and sucking on your skin in a way much worse than if he had just kissed you normally.

You go limp, and he moves a hand from your arm to the hem of your skirt, lifting it to expose your panties. You use your now-free arm to poke him in the eyes, causing him to stagger back off of you. You waste no time jumping off the table, grabbing your bag, and running outside.

You duck into a nearby alley to catch your breath.

You hate this place. You hate this place so much. You need a break, you need to go somewhere. Do something. You need to—

Your mouth is cold. You blink, and realize you’re sitting in a booth, ice coffee in your hand and the sounds of a cafe buzzing around you.

Shit. You just lost time again, didn’t you? Furrowing your brow, you rummage around your bag for your phone and check the time. It’s only been half an hour. Half an hour in which you could have done literally anything and would have no idea.

…You need to relax.

You lean back in your chair, forcing your muscles to relax as you try to take in the aroma and atmosphere around you. You take a slow sip of your coffee, but your stress doesn’t fade. There’s a slightly tingling sensation across the back of your neck, something you’ve felt before. Something is watching you. +Awareness

You glance around the cafe. A hooded kid in a medical mask is sitting across the cafe, seemingly engrossed in his phone. It’s Kylar.

You finish your drink and leave quickly, hoping Kylar won’t follow you.

The hairs on your neck stand up the whole way to the pub, and don’t leave until you’re sitting down across from Landry.

“This is quite the haul,” he says, handing you £3,210. “I hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I hope so, too.”

—————————

Standing outside the pub, you stare down at your quest menu.

Side quests >Buy a better bed Funds needed: £2400 Optional: Decorate your room to match your taste. Funds needed: ??? Rewards: Triple current rest points, nightmares reduced Penalty: None Bonus Rewards: +Love to all LI’s, passive stress and trauma decay faster while inside.

You need that stress and trauma decay. You don’t know if it’ll help with the amnesia or dissociation or whatever it is, but it’s the only thing you can think of, so you buy a bus ticket to the shopping center, making a beeline straight toward the furniture store.

The bed is easy enough to find, there’s only one two single models. You buy the more expensive one, since it’s the only one labeld as comfortable. You look at the bedding next, comparing various blanket textures and sheet designs. You try to envision what everything would look like together, and eventually pick a set you think mix well. Wallpapers and posters are next. You try to pick out designs that aren’t phallic, but they’re a little hard to find. Still, you’re starting to have fun, and you feel the ghost of a smile form on your lips as you picture what your new room will look like.

Thinking back, you’ve been doing a pretty good job for yourself. It’s been a whole week, and you still haven’t been assaulted. You managed to establish dominance over Kylar and gain a steady supply of pepper spray at the same time. And now, here you are, doing something completely domestic in a depraved game modded to be even worse. You feel proud for having adjusted so well so far and confident that you’ll finish your quests and make it home in record time.

You pick up a few other things you like and have room for and then head to the register to check out. The entire purchase is £2,709, leaving you with £4,780 left over. Not bad.

Your phone buzzes.

Quest completed! Rewards: Triple current rest points, nightmares reduced Bonus Rewards: +Love to all LI’s, passive stress and trauma decay faster while inside. Congratulations on completing your quest! Your new bed will be installed automatically, but bedding, posters, and the like will need to be installed manually.

So this game grants small mercies after all. Getting the bed set up would have been the hardest part, and by leaving the rest to you, you get full creative control over where you want things to go. Smiling, you climb onto a bus and head back to the orphanage, where you spend the next few hours setting everything up.

You step back and admire your work. It isn’t perfect. There are things you had to compromise on, ideas you had to discard. But it’s good. It looks like something you would’ve liked as a kid, back when you didn’t have as much freedom to decorate your room as you did after moving out. It’s nostalgic, in a way.

You feel refreshed. -Stress -Trauma

Your tiny room has now become a tiny home. You may now “reminisce” once a day for a small decrease in stress and trauma.

You lay down on your new bed, muscles finally relaxing after days of being on edge. You allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of being comfortable for once. You know you aren’t safe here, not really. You could wake up to someone on top of you at any time, but right now, that possibility feels so far away. -Awareness

Your eyes droop, and you soon enter a deep slumber.

—————————

Blearily, you open your eyes to a dark hospital room, your phone on the desk beside you. Though still a bit sore, you roll over and grab your phone, checking the time.

It is Friday, the 9th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £314 Pain: You are upset Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are placid Trauma: You are disturbed Control: You are scared Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged 02:07 You’ve unlocked a fragment.

Your eyes land on the notification under the time, and you open it.

Fragment 3: Your recent encounters with so many people have opened your eyes to the way of the world. The attention focused on you is not normal. Your special trait has become visible. +++Awareness

Special trait? This probably isn’t good.

Your stomach drops.

Cursed - Something special has taken an interest in you. Your luck depends solely on this entity’s whims. Purity is drained nightly.

Some…thing? Something like what? Is it the Wraith? Something else?

What does it mean? Is it related to the temple? You feel like there’s something you’re forgetting, but your head hurts too much. There’s a pressure in your head, like you’ve just been plunged underwater. Everything is quiet around you, and yet things have never felt louder. The sensation drowns out anything else, and you collapse onto the ground, somehow having moved from your place on the bed.

You think you dreamed of something, but the details are lost. When you check the time it’s 19:38. You slept for six hours. You feel refreshed, though a little thrown off.

Deciding that you need to stretch your legs, you put on your shoes and get up. The walk is nice enough, though it’s a little chilly. You’re about to turn around and head back when a fancy car stops by next to you, and the driver's side window rolls down. “I was hoping to spot you,” Avery says.

For fucks sake, it’s a Monday. He’s only supposed to bother the player on Saturdays.

“I’m going to…an event tonight. Would you care to join me?” Fuck, that’s not one of his lines, is it? You smile awkwardly.

“Is it formal? I’m afraid I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Well, it helps that we’re right by the shopping center then, doesn’t it?”

“Huh? But-” Avery has already turned off his car and hopped out.

“Why don’t we have a look around together? Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” You stare at Avery. He smiles at you. It’s all you can do to smile back.

“...How could I say no?”

Avery takes you back into the shopping mall, where you enter the clothing store. He picks out a skimpy leather dress for you and asks you to try it on. You don’t want to anger him, so you put it on. When you emerge from the changing room, he’s holding up two pairs of heels.

“These have a strap, so they’ll stay on easier,” Avery says, holding up a pair of kitten heels. “On the other hand,” he picks up a pair of court heels. “These are preferred amongst certain company. Both are acceptable, however.”

“Couldn’t I wear flats?” You ask. Avery barks out a laugh.

“My dear, you simply don’t wear flats when you’re out with me,” he says. You don’t press the issue. As you try on both heels, Avery moves to look at the lingerie. +Stress He pauses as he browses through the various panties and stockings. “On second thought,” he says. “Perhaps you don’t need anything under it.” +++Stress

Avery buys the clothes and makes you change into them, instructing you to fold your old clothes and hand them to him with your underwear on top. You do, feeling absolutely humiliated. -Control

You let Avery lead you back to his car, where he drives both of you to the flats. You recognize this event. Suddenly, you wish you had chosen the court heels. At least those you could kick off and make a run for it.

Still, this isn’t the worst thing that could possibly happen to you, you suppose. Of the several ways this night could end, many possibilities don’t include brutal rape and violence happening to yourself or others. You just have to shoot for one of those, you think to yourself, trying to breathe.

Avery leads you to the apartment building with a lotus knob and knocks. Bailey answers the door, and Avery brings out his hand to shake. Bailey takes it, but his eyes never leave your form. No one says anything as Bailey leads you and Avery inside to where Quinn and Leighton are already sitting.

From there, the date goes more or less how you remember it happening in the original. They ask you to fetch drinks for them. You smile and nod.

"Brandy," Quinn says. "Just how I like it." + Love -Quinn's card skill

Bailey sniffs his drink before taking a sip. He doesn't comment. Leighton takes a sip of his without looking. Avery is the last to drink. He peers at the liquid and takes a sip.

"A good choice," he says to Bailey. -Avery's card skill +Endearment

Everyone bets £100. Bailey takes a sip of his drink. Avery, Leighton, and Quinn fold immediately, and you wonder if this is one of Bailey’s tells. His hand is good but not great. A bluff, then.

"It's proper the first win should go to the host," Quinn says. "The night is young yet."

Bailey instructs you to make yourself useful and clean something. You polish the silverware behind Avery. It’s pretty fancy stuff. You resist the urge to make a comment about how glad you are that your rent is being used on such worthwhile expenses. Avery and Leighton chatter about some party behind you. When you’re done, the silverware looks no different, probably because you did it wrong intentionally. Fuck you, Bailey.

A snake slithers out from some crevice somewhere. You would have jumped, but you had seen it out of the corner of your eye earlier. Avery, Quinn, and Leighton aren’t as lucky, however, and their chances of winning soon plummet as they fluster. Bailey explains the snake is for catching mice as it slithers onto the table and coils around itself. Everyone but yourself and Bailey seem to be a bit more on edge for the remainder of the game. ++Bailey’s card skill

Bailey glances at the clock. “One more,” he says. “I have somewhere to be.”

"If this is the last game, we should make it interesting," Avery says, throwing a large wad of cash onto the table. Quinn and Leighton match the stack, but Bailey shakes his head.

“I don’t have cash to spare,” he says. Quinn coughs, and looks at you.

"The girl is with me," Avery says, voice nearly trembling from barely-contained rage.

"The girl is with you," Bailey says. "But she belongs to me." No one says anything for a moment until Quinn breaks the silence.

"We're friends here," he says in a lower tone, leaning towards Avery. "Let's not ruin it." Avery’s gaze remains fixed on Bailey.

"Fine, are you wagering the girl or not?" Bailey hesitates, looking from the cash on the table to the cards in his hands. You suppose you should be flattered he’s considering not prostituting you.

"I'll wager the girl for one evening. Deluxe rules." He looks at you. "Climb on." Already having predicted this, you shrug and hop up.

The game is unnaturally tense, even considering all the money on the line. Each player continuously glances up from their cards to look at you. They seem focused on something, but neither the cards nor the money seem to be the object of their attention.

Feeling uneasy, you begin to debate how likely you’d be able to successfully undo the straps to both your heels, kick them off, and then run all the way from the flats to the orphanage at night, where everyone knows you’ll be heading towards.

You stay seated. Bailey wins.

Avery looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel, with an actual forehead vein bulging on the side of his head. Quinn looks dispirited, and Leighton looks annoyed. No one so much as glances at the money they’ve lost, their gazes all transfixed on you, even as they walk out the door.

Once everyone is gone, Bailey gestures for you to follow him. He brings you back to his car, holding open the door for you. When you look at him as if he had just grown three heads he simply smiles. The expression doesn’t suit him. “So you don’t run away.” +Stress

Fighting the urge to bolt in heels, you force a nod and step in the car, warily eyeing Bailey as if he might attack you.

To your surprise, the normal event with Bailey never occurs, and he simply drives you back to the orphanage without any stops or detours. When the car is parked, you unbuckle yourself and try to open the door but are met with resistance.

“You locked me in,” you say, smiling awkwardly as you gesture to the door. Bailey smiles.

“I know,” he says, getting out of the vehicle and walking over to your side of the car. ++Stress

You’re on your feet before you even register the sound of the door being unlocked, scrambling backward into the driver’s side seat, not caring if your heels scratch the expensive leather. It’s all in vain, however, as Bailey catches your foot and drags you out of the car. You’re thrown onto the ground by Bailey’s feet, where he then grabs you by the hair and lifts your head up.

“I’ve been meaning to replace those seats,” he says, face close to yours. “But I could never justify spending the extra cash. But now, I don’t have to. Since you’ll be paying for it,” he growls, grip on your scalp tightening.

“And I know just how to make you pay,” he says, dragging you by your hair into the orphanage.

He leads you to your room. The one you just finished setting up. You don’t even have time to react before he’s slamming the door behind you and throwing you onto the bed.

It hits you, then. Just what he was planning to do to you. You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner.

Sure, it’d be out of character, normally, but you aren’t in the normal game. You feel lightheaded as he pushes up your leather skirt, revealing your bare cunt. “No panties? Guess you were planning on working hard tonight,” he says, breath on your ear. +Jealousy

You feel frozen, and it isn’t until a sizeable drop of saliva hits your clit that you jump up into action, immediately thrashing in his hold and screaming for help.

He’s faster than you, though, and catches your mouth before you can so much as get a word out. With his other hand, he loosens his tie and removes it from his neck. He stuffs it in your mouth and restrains your arm with the one he’d been holding your mouth with. You try to wriggle out of his hold, but soon, he’s got both of your arms tied behind your back with a belt. He looks down at you, face inches from yours, with a blank expression. “Behave,” he says. “Don’t make me hurt you.” You manage to spit the tie out into his face, and he slaps you hard.

“I don’t have to be nice,” he reminds you, grabbing a fistful of your hair. He releases you, and you try to scream, but his hand is already on your neck, pressing down hard against your jugular. You struggle against your restraints, but it’s no use. You can hardly breathe. You flail wildly from underneath Bailey, but the pressure on your neck makes it hard to think coherently. Bailey seems to have no trouble fending you off, even finding time to push down your top and reveal your breasts, leaning back to admire them before giving them a quick slap. You now lay under him, completely helpless and exposed. And as you realize that you’ve spent all your air fighting, you hear the sound of a zipper being undone as your vision blurs.

—————————

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 11 months ago

Text

Pay Attention

Synopsis: The 3 times everyone else knew you and Lando were in love with each other, and the 1 time you two actually admitted it

female driver reader x lando norris

A/N: for this one, reader is 22 and drives for mercedes with george. also, most of the story is told from lando’s pov because this originally started off as an entirely different 3+1 fic, and I don’t have the energy to fix it. and obviously, things like race results, driver lineups, ect will be changed to better fit the story

Lando Norris knows Formula 1 is unpredictable. He knows you can’t tell what will happen during a race, nonetheless a season. But no matter how unpredictable the sport is, this was the most surprising part by far.

It’s barely been 10 years, but Lando feels like he’s known you forever. You two first met at the Karting World Championship in 2014, a race you were teammates with both him and Zhou Guanyu in. Even though he beat you to first place, your 14-year-old-self didn’t let that stop you from becoming best friends with him.

It was hard to keep track of each other when the two of you were traveling all over Europe to compete in different series, so Lando almost thought he’d never get to see you again. Until in 2020, when he heard talks of the most successful female driver yet making her way through the ranks.

Since you were announced as apart of the Mercedes driver line up in the beginning of 2022, you two have been attached at the hip. You both lived in Monaco and whenever you weren’t busy with media or team duties, you were together. Traveling, in the paddock, celebrating races; if you were there, so was Lando.

Fans were used to that fact and they usually expected it off the track, but not for races and track battles, so everyone was a bit surprised when you two placed P3 and P4 in Bahrain.

It was Round 1 of the 2023 season and even though everyone knows your results at Bahrain don’t dictate your entire season, Lando was still excited you were on the podium. He had qualified P6 behind George and yourself in P5 and P4, and with both Fernando’s Aston Martin and both Red Bulls in front of you, you weren’t expected to make it on the top steps.

Though after a few badly timed pit stops, Lando ended the race in P4, 5 seconds behind you in P3. Cheers rung out from around the grandstands as both the Mercedes and McLaren cars crossed the finish line. Your team garages were ecstatic, climbing the fence to meet you at the checkered flag and shouting congratulations through the radio.

Lando watched from behind as you steered your car into perc ferme alongside Max and Sergio and climbed out to celebrate with your team. It wasn’t P1, but it was a huge achievement to place so high so early in the season and it was obvious how proud everyone was of you.

He couldn’t help himself from leaving his car and engulfing you in a hug. You were both laughing and the Brit could practically hear your grin through it.

“You did amazing! I’m so proud of you” He says, the words muffled through your helmets.

“Thanks, I wish you were gonna be up there with me, you deserve it” you say, looking up to the podium.

Lando smiles and he’s suddenly grateful his helmet is there to hide his blush. “Thanks. Don’t worry though, soon enough we’ll be up there with a 1-2”

“With me P1, I assume?”

Your eyes are playful underneath your helmet, and he laughs. “Yeah, we’ll see. Go celebrate with your team, Y/n. Don’t ditch me for the after party though!” He shouts as you walk over to your post-race interview, starting to laugh.

“I’d never ditch you!” You shout back over your shoulder, your helmet and balaclava coming off to reveal your grin.

Lando leaves to get weighed and meet his team back in the McLaren garage, keeping his head gear on because of the stupid smile he’s all too aware is still on his face. He was supposed to go to the media pen to finish up some race interviews before sitting down for the debrief with McLaren, but you were his best friend; he couldn’t miss your first podium of the season.

Lando, still clad in his orange race suit, arrives just as Max’s national anthem is playing. He probably should be paying at least a bit of attention to the winner, he’s one of Lando’s best mates after all, but then he saw you, grinning on the third step under the many bright lights of the street circuit, and he couldn’t look away.

He watched with his own smile as you opened your bottle of champagne and poured the majority of it on the Red Bull drivers, before downing the rest of it yourself. He’d wait until you came back to street level, where he’d be waiting for another hug and feeling the sticky champagne and bright grin against his neck.

You’d start talking about the race, the moments where you didn’t think you’d make it to the podium and how happy you’d be if you could get another one. You’ll ask about his race and tell him that next weekend, he’d better be up there beside you, no matter what.

And Lando will be next to you, like he always is, smiling and hanging on to every word you say because you’re happy, so he’s happy too.

What Lando would not realize is that each moment, from when he hugged you after you got out of your car to just then when you were walking through the paddock together, had been caught by multiple people, each one thinking the one thing you two had not yet realized.

“They’re so in love with each other”

Lando Norris did not hate the Miami Grand Prix, at least not usually. But this time around, F1’s 2023 stop in Florida is one he could’ve gladly missed.

It was a double header weekend, and after coming off an extremely mediocre P9 finish in Azerbaijan, Lando was less than excited to spend 4 days in the hot sun in an even more mediocre car. There were so many unnecessary media obligations to go with the flashiness of Miami, and by Friday evening he was already looking forward to the flight back home.

The one thing that did brighten his day was you, who he also had dinner plans with after FP2. He let you distract him with whichever details about your life you had neglected to tell him before, let you get him excited for Sunday’s race again, and let you put him in a better mood.

You two were walking from the restaurant to Lando’s car, still talking and laughing as usual, when Lando asked to you come by his hotel after qualifying the next day.

“If both our qualifying are shit, we can get ice cream and mope together,” he posed jokingly, “and if it goes great, we can celebrate together as well”

But then you stop laughing and your tone changes. “Oh, sorry Lando, but I’m going out with Logan after qualifying; he’s gonna show me around Miami a bit. I’m sure he won’t mind if you come though? Do you want to?”

He pauses; Logan? “No it’s fine. I should probably be relaxing after tomorrow anyways, I think the heat’s getting to me a bit. You two have fun, though” He assures you, keeping a light-hearted tone to mask his distaste.

Logan?

Lando didn’t have anything against Logan, he thought he was a nice guy with a lot of potential. But now he’s taking his best friend away from him and for what reason? You can see Miami any day, any time you want, and if you wanted to, you certainly didn’t need him as your guide.

But fine. Lando does not own you, you’re perfectly allowed to have your own friends, and if you wanted to have an evening out with Logan Sargeant, it was perfectly okay with Lando.

The Brit drove you back to your hotel before setting off to his own, and while you were his best friend and of course, delightful company, he couldn’t help but dwell on the sour taste left in his mouth. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much.

By the time Lando was back in his room, he was too tired to figure it why and decided it was a problem for Future Lando.

He woke up Saturday morning completely forgetting about the events of last night and instead focused on getting the best results possible today. He met up with his trainer for breakfast, left for the track, and joined his PR officer in the McLaren garage. She was escorting Lando to the media pen when he suddenly slowed.

“Lando? What’s wrong?” The woman took note of his tense figure, his hard-set eyes.

All because you were walking away from the media pen with Logan at your side, laughing and looking way too happy for his liking.

He felt the sourness this time. He felt it rise throughout his body and spread like wild fire. His only question was why.

Why were you laughing so much? Why did he feel this way? Why couldn’t he let any of this go? Why were you with Logan and not with him?

“Nothing,” the McLaren drives says. “let’s go” Lando never usually hurries to the media pen, but he didn’t want to look at you and Mr. American boy-next-door any longer.

He was asked questions and he gave answers, Lando just couldn’t tell you what any of them were. This was the problem Past Lando had left for him, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

He ruled out anger; he didn’t feel mad, per se, more frustrated than angry. He wasn’t upset; he certainly didn’t feel sad. Possessiveness? He wasn’t usually possessive over his friends though, and you two weren’t dating or anything like that, so there was no real reason to feel protective. Still, Lando couldn’t shake the sourness, and was once again left without answers about you and his feelings.

It wasn’t hard to miss the Brit’s change in attitude, and it wasn’t something his friends were going to ignore.

“Are you okay, mate?” Carlos says, walking alongside him through the paddock after FP3. “You’ve been quiet all day”

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just tired, I guess” Lando shrugs, not sure if he should tell the Ferrari driver.

“C’mon, you’re seriously not gonna tell me? It’ll make you feel better, trust me” Carlos pushed, and he hesitated before answering.

“I don’t know. I barely know what’s wrong myself” Carlos gives him a look, and he sighs before continuing.

“It’s just weird with Y/n lately. I don’t know but the entire weekend’s just been weird”

“Why? Because she’s hanging out with Logan?”

“How did you-”

“Lando, it’s not that hard to notice, and it’s not that hard to notice why you don’t like it” The Spaniard nudges him, looking at him with a mischievious glint in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“You like Y/n, so you don’t like her hanging around with Logan” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What’re you talking about? I don’t like Y/n, she’s my best friend, that’s ridiculous” Lando makes a face. That makes no sense, of course I don’t have feelings for Y/n.

“Yeah, and the Haas is going to win tomorrow. Lando, I told you, you can trust me. Just admit it, cabrón”

“Admit what? I don’t like her, I told you that” Lando insists, because he doesn’t. There’s no way.

“Okay mate, whatever you say” Carlos says, putting his hands up in surrender and moving towards the Ferrari garage. “Let me know how that ‘not liking my best friend thing goes’”

Lando just shakes his head and sighs. Carlos has no idea what he’s talking about.

Qualifying turns out to be the thing Lando needs to get his mind off everything; he qualifies P6 with Oscar right behind him and confidence in his car for tomorrow. The man spends some extra time going over the data from today with the strategists and leaves the track just after sunset to head back to his hotel.

He wasn’t completely lying to you yesterday night; the heat was having a bit of an effect on him, and it was probably a good idea to relax and stay in for the night. He ordered something from room service that his trainer would approve of and took a shower before climbing into bed.

A knock on his door is the thing that stops Lando from falling asleep.

It’s past 10, no one should be knocking at his door, but that’s not good enough of a reason to ignore the person, so he gets up to answer it and should probably be more surprised that’s it you.

“Not here to collect team secrets for tomorrow, are you?” Lando questions, jokingly.

“I don’t think we need anymore help beating you McLarens, thank you” You play along with a laugh.

“I’m offended. I hope you have an apology along to go with whatever that it” He gestures to the bag in your hands, and you nod.

“I do, but you’ll have to let me in first to get either” Your best friend moves aside to let you into his room and onto his couch.

“Seriously though, what’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just felt bad for ditching you today and figured I could make up for it with ice cream” You shrugged, opening up the bag and holding a container covered in frost.

“I appreciate the gesture Y/n, but we both know our trainers-” You cut him off. “Would kill us if we eat this, I know. That’s why I only bought one, so we could just share and have half. That way it’s not really eating an ice cream sundae, it’s just eating a scoop and a half”

“I like your thinking”

“That’s why you keep me around” You both smile, and Lando gets up to get two spoons.

“You don’t have to be sorry, by the way. It doesn’t bother me that you went out with Logan” He knows you must’ve felt really guilty, because you’re still wearing the clothes you wore in the paddock, meaning you went immediately from wherever Logan took you to straight to get the ice cream and come here, despite the fact you should be in bed and it would be chaos if someone found out you were here this late Saturday night.

He also knows you wouldn’t do this for just anyone.

“I know. I still felt bad though” You shrug, thanking him before taking a spoonful of ice cream.

“Don’t be. Where’d he take you, anyway?” Lando questions. He knows that if he was talking about this any time else, he feel that sourness all over again. But there was no reason to if you were right here beside him.

“Nowhere special; we just walked around, shopped a bit, and stopped to get some food before we realized we should probably head back to our hotels”

“And aren’t you having the same realization now?” He asks, taking another spoon of ice cream.

“Yeah, but I’m not worried enough to the point where I’m actually gonna do it” You explain, and Lando laughs.

“So what? I’m stuck with you for the rest of the night then?”

“You say it like you don’t totally love the idea” You smile playfully.

“You’re right, I’d rather you here with me than anywhere else”

“Me too” The man misses your soft gaze and love-sick smile.

Truthfully, Lando just likes when you’re with him in general.

It was the Austria GP and for the first time in a while, Lando Norris felt a little carefree. He had over two weeks to recover from Canada, the next round was his home race, and things were looking positive for Sunday. He was happy with racing, and he was happy with you too.

Ever since Miami, you two have been closer than usual; fans were used to seeing you guys always together, but this time, they really never saw you without seeing Lando, and Lando without seeing you. Both of you seemed oddly smiley recently and it didn’t go without notice. Even more than usual, it was like you and Lando were in your own weird little obliviously-in-love bubble that nothing could break through.

Maybe that was why you and Lando finished P4 and P5, each of you one place away from a repeat of Bahrain. It obviously wasn’t your best finishes you two have ever had, but it was good enough for there to be a celebration afterwards. The drivers you and Lando were closest to also finished high in the points, and before you knew it, you had agreed to attending the after-party happening in a few hours at the nearest club.

You put on some makeup, fixed your hair, changed into a beautiful outfit, and stuffed your purse with your essentials before you got a text from Lando telling you that he was outside. You insisted that you could drive yourself and he didn’t need to pick you up, but Lando persisted, saying that it was stupid to bring two cars incase you weren’t fit to drive at the end of the night, and had to leave your very expensive car on the street all night.

“You look gorgeous, it almost makes up for the ridiculous amount of time I’ve spent waiting here for you” Lando says with a smirk as you open the door to his car.

You roll your eyes through your blush. “It wasn’t that long. Besides, my room’s on a high floor, it was the elevator’s fault.” You reason, clicking your seatbelt into place before Lando pulls out of the hotel parking lot and onto the streets.

“Yeah sure, blame the machinery because it’s never your fault you’re late”

“It’s not!” You insist with a laugh. He hums sarcastically in response, turning on the radio and letting it fill the comfortable silence

The streets in front of the club are lined with dozens of high-end cars, so you and Lando are forced to park nearly a block away from the entrance. The bouncer lets the two of you in without hesitation, and even from outside, you can hear the bass from the speakers inside.

The interior is exactly how you expected it to be, colorful strobe lights from overhead, music that you have to shout to hear someone over, and a dance floor that’s packed to the brim with celebrities, drivers, and everyone in between.

You and Lando claim the nearest booth to the exit, and he leans in close enough to be audible. “I’m going to get us a few drinks, try and see if you can find a few people” You nod, and the two of you go off in different directions.

You manage to locate Alex, Lily, George, and Carmen in a booth together and after a few very loud greetings, manage your way through the mob again to find Lando and lead him back to your friends. You all start talking and laughing, placing bets on which drivers are going home with a mystery girl, which ones are going to get black-out drunk, and which ones are going to show off their embarrassingly bad drunk dance moves in front of everyone.

Drinks and shots get handed out, a few more drivers join your table, and soon enough, you and your group are somewhere between tipsy and drunk and are moving onto the already-packed dance floor. Lando moved up to the DJ, telling you he’d be back to dance soon, and left you with your fellow drivers and their girlfriends.

You spend a few hours dancing with the girls, giggling through your drinks, and wandering around the club in search for more friends. At the point where your vision starts to got a bit blurry and the music is making your head hurt, you feel a hand on your shoulder and a familiar voice in your ear.

“Hey stranger!” Lando shouts, turning you around to face him.

“Lando!” You call out loudly, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “Missed you” Alcohol made you a bit affectionate.

“Only been gone an hour and a half, love” Even though you can’t see his face and you’re not at your sharpest, you know he’s got a dumb smirk on his face.

“Missed you too, though” He says, taking the drink out of your hand and taking a sip before wrapping his hands around your waist.

“Are you here to dance with me?” You pull back, looking into his eyes. His pupils aren’t dilated, so you know he’s sober and the designated driver for the night.

“Wouldn’t want to do anything else” Even though everyone else around you is dancing at a fast, eager pace, you and Lando keep your arms wrapped around each other, bodies swaying softly, heads laying on each other’s shoulders.

Even with the flashing lights and booming music, you probably could’ve drowsed off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realize how much time has passed but at some point, Lando taps your arm and pulls away from you.

“Time to go home, I think” He says, placing his hands on your shoulders to get you to focus on him.

“You think?” You reply, both drowsy and a little drunk.

“I think so. I’m gonna see if anyone else needs a ride and say goodbye, then we’ll leave, okay?” Lando tells you, intertwining your hands together before leading you further onto the dancefloor.

The Brit finds the other drivers and does what he said before handing you your purse and guiding you out of the club, hands still held together. Your best friend hands you his jacket to wear and places his arm around your waist as the two of you walk back to the car.

You know that Lando will get you back to your hotel and to your room where he’ll take your heels off for you. You know he’ll place a glass of water and a few Aspirins’ on a nightstand for you and lay down underneath the duvet with you because he’s too tired to drive back to his own hotel.

You’ll know you two will fall asleep almost immediately, and wake up closer than you were laying last night. You know Lando will not mind doing any of this, will actually like it, because you don’t let him take care of you as much as he’d like.

You know all of these things and a lot of other stuff too, you just don’t know that the person you did it all with is the person you’re in love with, or that he’s in love with you too.

+ 1

Lando always appreciated the summer break after half a season of racing, but there was something special about this one that made him wish it would never end.

You, Lando, and a group of your mutual friends planned a week-long trip to an island in the Caribbean as ‘one last hurrah’ before you two had to fly to Zandervort for the second half of the season. It was your fourth day on the island, and even though every moment since you arrived has been filled with some sort of fun and exciting adventure, this was already your favorite day of the trip.

You and Lando had connecting rooms, ‘a complete coincidence’ as your friends had put it, and this morning, you two decided to take advantage of it and make breakfast together. You weren’t supposed to meet with the others until a few more hours, and you loved cooking with Lando, so shortly after you woke up you made the short journey into his room.

“Morning,” your best friend greeted you, clad in black sweats and an old T-shirt you’ve seen millions of times. “I bought pancake mix from the store in the lobby, but we can run out and get something else if you like?”

“No, it’s okay,” you insist, “pancakes are fine. Besides, I know you make the best ones.”

“I know, you must be so jealous” Lando smirks, grabbing a mixing bowl and pan from the hotel’s kitchenette cabinet.

“Totally. So what’s on our agenda today?” You say, moving around him to take ingredients from the fridge.

“Not much, actually. I think we’re just going to the beach and walk around the town a bit” You nod as you grab your phone and click on the shared playlist between yourself and Lando.

You let the music fill the comfortable silence as the two of you move around the small kitchen. It’s a beautiful and all-too domestic scene; the morning sun streaming through the windows, the soft music in the background, the way you both seamlessly know your way around the kitchen, how easy it was to work around each other. They’re the facts your mind notices too quickly, and it’s hard to stop your brain from thinking about a future where things could be like this everyday.

Within a few minutes, you each had a reasonably-sized stack of pancakes that you brought outside onto the balcony with you. You settle into the adjacent chairs that look out to the waves crashing onto the beach and deep blue ocean. It’s still early; this part of the island isn’t awake yet, and it’s easy to relax in the still quiet.

While you shooed away the image of the future like this, Lando welcomed it with open arms. He thought how effortless it would be to make a scene like this; a hotel room, an apartment in Monaco, a house in the UK, Lando would take either and all of them. As long as you came with it.

His mouth speaking before his brain can control it. “I wish it was like this forever” He blurts out.

“You don’t want to go back to racing?” You look over at him, eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t look back at you, keeps his eyes on the view in front of him instead.

“No, I do. I mean-” Lando pauses, thinks it over. He gets up from his chair to lean on the railing, his back facing you. This could ruin everything, he thinks. If he says it, he can’t go back, and nothing will be the same again.

He stops thinking.

“I mean with you. I honestly don’t care where we are; racing, on an island, whatever. We could be on another planet for all I care. As long as it’s just you and me, I think I could handle it” He finishes, feeling your presence next to him a few moments later, your shoulders brushing.

“Really?” You ask, eyes widened. You would’ve never thought he felt the same.

“Really. I’ve always felt that way” Then he’s looking you in that way, the way everyone’s been trying to explain to you for a while.

You don’t second-guess yourself when you put your hands around his face and press your lips onto his, and especially not when he starts moving his lips against yours. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, and you don’t think you’d be mad if this was your forever.

You two finally pull away from each other, and even though the waves on the beach are still the same waves and the ocean is still the same deep blue, you think that everything changed just a little bit.

You’re still so close you could probably count his eyelashes if you wanted to, and you smile.

“I love you”

His smile mirrors yours the second after he hears it. “I love you too”

You two don’t really have to tell people; everyone figures it out within the first five minutes of being around both of you. Everyone teases you relentlessly, but internally, they’re just glad the two of you finally saw what’s been there all along.

i never really know how to end these. anyways, a lando fic to make up for the time i’ve been gone. sorry about that btw, i got major imposter syndrome and the lack of f1 content makes for a lack of motivation. this is also my first ln4 fic, and i have no idea what to expect from it. hope u enjoyed tho 🫶

#reader insert #formula 1 #driver reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #female driver reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x female driver reader #3+1 #slow burn #oblivious characters

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bluedelliquanti · 19 days ago

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Before I go on vacation, I present my list of my top books for 2024.

COMICS:

Roaming by Jillian Tamaki & Mariko Tamaki

Bunt! by Ngozi Ukazu & Mad Rupert

Ukazu and Rupert are a powerhouse team, and as an art school adjunct, this already funny GN is even funnier (albeit in a way that necessitates a skull emoji in the educator groupchat)

Tiffany’s Griffon by Magnolia Porter Siddell & Maddi Gonzalez

Phobos and Deimos by J Dalton

Delicious in Dungeon by Ryoko Kui

It's a tough task to reach a satisfying conclusion to a series that was as strong as Dungeon, but I think Kui accomplished it!

Fool Night by Kasumi Yasuda

King in Limbo by Ai Tanaka

Over the last year I've been drawn towards comic series that work with a retro, fixed-width inking style, and King especially informed some recent experiments of mine.

PROSE:

Twins by Bari Wood & Jack Geasland

When I learned Wood was responsible for the book that became Dead Ringers, I knew I had to try it. This is the one that wins my "Oh, shit! Wow!! Okay!!!" award for the year (distinctions previously awarded to Cyteen and Manhunt).

The Bezzle by Cory Doctorow

DS9: A Stitch in Time by Andrew J. Robinson

Those of you who read my journal comic from last August might recall that I met Robinson at a Trek convention! I'd learned from reading these books that Stitch was considered a white whale among collectors, and now I absolutely understand why. If you're a DS9 fan and you want to try any book from the original run of novels, try this one. By which I mean, try the far easier-to-find audiobook version.

Translation State by Ann Leckie

A Woman of the Iron People by Eleanor Arnason

Fellow SBCF participant Erin Roseberry had shared this title as an inspiration for their comic, The Maker of Grave-Goods, and I was especially interested in trying a book by a Twin Cities author. What a serendipitous find!

Arboreality by Rebecca Campbell

For the third year in a row, a book nominated for the Le Guin Prize makes the list.

Always Coming Home by Ursula K. Le Guin

This is another book I always told myself I'd try someday, and was it ever worth it! I spent some time talking about my experience with this story (and its accompanying materials that fill out the world) in my talk with Evan Dahm on his show.

See you in the new year! I've packed some thick books for a long flight, so I'm starting my 2025 reading pile right away!

Reruns of my previous two lists, 2023, and 2022, below the cut.

2023

COMICS:

Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou by Hitoshi Ashinano

Out of Style by Devi Putri Megwati

Skip and Loafer by Misaki Takamatsu

The Harrowing of Hell by Evan Dahm

The Infinity Particle by Wendy Xu

Esteban by Matthieu Bonhomme

I covered my ShortBox reccs back in October, but since then I also picked up Pearl Hunting by Hana Chatani when it came to itch.io and adored it.

PROSE:

So yes, maybe I'm cheating by including Moby Dick since I'm not all the way finished, but Whale Weekly really did end up being a great tool for getting me to crack open my gorgeous Evan Dahm-illustrated copy I've had for a while.

My favorite book of the year is Roadside Picnic by Arkady & Boris Strugatsky. I genuinely did read it the first week of January, but after having it recommended to me for years, I'm thrilled it didn't disappoint. Maybe I am someone who likes Russian novels after all???

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto

Such Nice People by Sandra Scoppettone

Cyteen by C.J. Cherryh (I jokingly placed these three in the "READ 👏 FEMALE 👏 AUTHORS 👏" category because they don't have anything in common other than describing some of the most upsetting/bizarre scenarios I've read this year. Cyteen especially! Wowee!!!)

Brother Alive by Zain Khalid

Glory by Vladimir Nabokov

A Different Trek by David K. Seitz, which I mentioned as my vacation book for the Star Trek convention, but it's given me some great suggestions for more books, both fiction and otherwise. Also, I read... 11 more DS9 books this year.

2022

COMICS:

Fullmetal Alchemist by Hiromu Arakawa

Vattu by Evan Dahm

The Well by Choo and Jake Wyatt

Wash Day Diaries by Robyn Smith and Jamila Rowser

Some ShortBox Comics Fair entries that are graphic novella length and are really good include Food School by Jade Armstrong and The God of Arepo by Reimena Yee et al.

PROSE:

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters

The Murders of Molly Southbourne by Tade Thompson

How to Blow Up a Pipeline by Andreas Malm

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman

Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

The Past is Red by Catherynne M. Valente

edit: oh my god I can't believe I forgot Perfume by Patrick Süskind

Honorable mentions from the pile of DS9 novelizations include Revenant by Alex White (for successfully pulling off a Sara Paretsky-style mystery in space) and Dominion War: Call to Arms by Diane Carey (for absolutely unhinged adjective choices).

#books #comics #book recommendations

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sanctus-ingenium · 2 years ago

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Another one of these since i haven't done it in a while! Sketch -> finished illustration

Thoughts & process below the cut :>

Out of Bounds: i deleted the sketch of this off my ipad because i didn't like it, and for months it only existed as a screenshot on discord. finally in january of this year i was like Wait Actually and decided to keep working on it. I didn't achieve the look I was going for (kind of foggy and vague. It came out too sharp and high contrast) but it was fun to throw the kitchen sink at it for an afternoon and then call it done finally. I don't remember which horse this was originally supposed to be, I think Macha?

I reused the pose, you'll find the same one in my Pascal sketchbook from the section on gait studies. That's the cool thing about doing 30 sketches at once, you can finish them up any time you like for a different drawing

The Fool ft Islin: the original concept for this is from [takes a moment to decipher the american date system on discord] January 2022

It wasn't dynamic enough, but I've had this on the backburner for sooo long. I think I completed like 4 cards in between this sketch and the final version lol. But, for a bit of background, this is from my series of major arcana based in Inver, and in particular the events of the 1860s-era book series, Moth Viper Foal (a demo of the first book, Said The Black Horse, is available for free/pwyw in my shop). This scene is a companion to Said The Black Horse, depicting the aftermath of the traumatic fight that caused Islin to storm off. He had been working at the mill as a semiprofessional back alley surgeon when he received an offer to join the church and work as a trained surgeon in their hospital. But when he brought the good news back to his friends it was met with utter rejection, driving him to basically run away to join the church. while gay and trans. thus the card.

he didn't actually bring a bag with him when he ran out but for the sake of the card i drew him with one

Gryfon and Pantera: This is how 99% of holy beast drawings start out, even the super stylised ones. I struggle a lot to draw them in procreate so they start in sai and then i transfer them over. The story of this is already explained in the caption of the original post so I'll just talk about the process which was... honestly torturous. I actually don't like too much textures and effects on things (wild, I know) and this one and Out of Bounds are ones where I kind of preferred it pre-texturising.

The text on the side is the official in-universe report of the event, detailing the casualties, the valiant actions of Gryfon's knight before he died and so on. There's also spoilers in there :>

My main struggle with this art style is how it always ends up slightly TOO sharp and crisp in a way the just a blur filter never can correct. There's not a lot of immersion to break, to be fair, but I think this still does it a little. I need to get more comfortable doing the lines with larger and softer brushes, and allowing imperfections.

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mrs-gauche · 8 days ago

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Hey guys! 🙂 It's the end of 2024 and I realized today I haven't posted on here since finishing Veilguard.

Well, to make it short.. since then, I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, replaying it, watching my friends who are DA casuals and not into fandom play it (which was very enlightening but also hilarious 😂), so now.. I feel like I'm at a point where I know exactly what my issues with this game are and I've made peace with it. I still love Dragon Age! And I love parts of Veilguard and I had a ton of fun playing it (though probably for all the wrong reasons 🥲). When I first finished the game, I cried tears of happiness that after ten years my favorite character actually somehow got a beautiful Happy Ending and closure, but also tears of sorrow that this marks the end of the story that was set up back in 2009.. and tears of mourning that this story had all the potential to be so so SO much more.

Dragon Age is a very weird franchise in that all the games have been, in many ways, vastly different from each other and to be a fan of the whole series means to recognize all its flaws and changes, but still loving it because of its unique core elements that glue it together and make it so special. I could sit here for hours trying to put into words what I think went wrong with Veilguard, but I know many people have already done so far more eloquently than I ever could. This blog was always meant to be just a positive little corner to share my love for these games and silly VA stuff with other people and I'm sure I will eventually reblog all the two million posts I've liked over the past month, both positive and critical. But for now and the new year, I want to focus my time and energy on just being creative, getting back to drawing and trying to realize ideas about DA I've had for a looong time and that's my way of "emotionally recovering" (that sounds so dramatic 😂). 💜

With that being said... What a crazy decade year it has been for me personally in this fandom... So I want to look back at it, just some rambling under the cut, 'cause I'm a little sentimental now, I guess. 🥲

Before I created this blog, I was mostly just a lurker on here for many years, despite being a fan of BioWare games since.. uh.. forever? lol But I was always waaay too insecure about my English, let alone my own art. I also have social anxiety, so maybe that was part of the reason why I decided to finally create this blog at a time when the fandom was at its most dormant? lol (There is also a whole separate post for another day about how Mass Effect influenced me personally and how it made my biggest dream come true, the enormous honor to voice a few NPCs in (the German version of) Andromeda. Still the craziest thing to ever happen to me. lol)

So, seeing all the crazy excitement and the fandom fully revived this year and all these months leading up to Veilguard was both incredibly overwhelming, but also the most fun I've ever had as being part of a fandom! This year also marked the first time I posted my own art online and I can't even put into words how crazy it was seeing the response to that and I still can't believe that Trick Weekes not only commented on but also reposted it, that is still f*cking insane to me and I'll never forget the morning I woke up to see that. lmao

So yeah.. THAT happened. Followed by what I think has to be one of the weirdest, craziest marketing campaigns I've ever seen. lol Going back to 2022, we truly had it all...

A title announcement on a random Thursday that was probably done so that it would not be confused with the Netflix series announced a few days later. A tie-in comic more than a year before release that was... a little pointless? lol A vinyl collection that spoiled the composers a year before release. A title change literally two days before the first trailer. A reveal trailer that left many in shock because of its tone shift and complete lack of the former title character. A line of Game Informer articles that left us often times with more questions than answers. Every single article being deleted the very next month due to GI shutting down. An actor panel at SDCC happening right as Sag Aftra went on strike. A "fandom" party that had nothing to do with Dragon Age. Jason Derulo. An artbook that accidentally revealed the release date with its pre-order, which was then deleted. Twice. Memes about roadmaps. A second trailer that in hindsight probably should've been the first one. An audio drama by a different writing team with some baffling (but funny) lore mistakes. A combat showcase starting off with a disclaimer that "footage had been edited due to spoilers"... followed by THE biggest spoiler in literally the first ten seconds. The first IGN video with super spoilery dev commentary. A hand-on preview event with 140 people leading to spoilers galore... Did I mention spoilers? lol

That was when I stopped looking at stuff online, so I don't know what happened after that, but WOW, what a crazy ride that was. 🥲 Truly a DA4 Summer to remember and I'm unironically so grateful to have witnessed it in real time with all of you. 😂

Then finally, after ten flippin years of tinfoiling, speculating, reading crazy development stories and clowning around at every gaming live event, Veilguard was finally released and it will probably go down as the most emotionally charged Halloween of my life. lmao

Then it was time to actually play The Veilguard. Which took me about a month.

A month filled with what I can only describe as a crazy rollercoaster of conflicting emotions. Aside from everything having to do with Solas, I'd say my personal highlights of the entire experience was seeing Felassan (I screamed), the PHOTO MODE and even one hilarious "breaking the fourth wall" moment, where I would frantically run around in Elgar'nan's trap in "Blood of Arlathan", to a point where I would yell at the screen "SOLAS, I COULD USE SOME HELP NOW, HELLO???" and hearing his flippin voice literally two seconds later going "Yes, you called?" and I freaked out so hard I dropped the controller. 😂😂😂 Also, as someone who romanced Alistair in my first playthrough of DAO and brought him to the final battle not knowing he would sacrifice himself, you can imagine my flashbacks when I saw Davrin dying at Tearstone.. who I had romanced. 💀 Or the Dark Ritual flashbacks when I saw Morrigan wanting to talk to me right before the final mission. lol Getting the Felassan rune actually made me tear up a little. There are many little moments like that that I loved or that made me emotional, but ultimately.. Veilguard is a game that, for all the amazing graphics and cutscenes and flashy combat.. the more I think about the story and the lore (or lack thereof), the more I end up confused and trying to figure out what it is that's breaking the immersion to me in a way that the previous games didn't.

But anyway... I finished Veilguard, though the DA craziness of 2024 wasn't over just yet and I didn't know that the best was yet to come in December. lol

So.. Years ago, one of the main reasons I created this blog was to make silly "appreciation posts" about Solas' German VA and ramble on about my love for his performance.. I even remember making a post on here like three years ago talking about how I would sadly never EVER get a chance to meet his VA personally, because that man never ever goes to any fan conventions or public events. lol

Well... GUESS WHO I MET AT THE GERMAN COMIC CON EARLIER THIS MONTH!!!

YES GUYS, without sounding like a weirdo (because despite my obsession with voice acting, I don't care for VAs social accounts or anything beyond their work as a VA), but after years of jokingly referring to this blog as the "Ozan Ünal Appreciation Blog", and kinda the reason I made this blog in the first place, I finally met the man himself and it was probably the best friggin fan experience I could've wished for. 🥲🥲🥲

See, I've met a lot of different VAs at Cons before, who were all super nice and awesome to talk to.. but let me tell you, this guy has such an incredibly contagious positive attitude and charm!! lol Me and my friend were literally the last to stand in line at his booth before the event closed, there were TONS of people (there were quite a few VAs at the Con, but his booth had BY FAR the most people in line the whole day lol) and yet he made sure to take the time to talk with every single person, asking questions, was genuinely interested in our opinions, joking around and just generally SO FRIGGIN NICE. And he's just a very chill and funny dude? lol

And it was so funny, because there were SO many people and yet apparently I was the only person that day to talk to him about DA and Solas and he was SO excited about it 😂😂😂 (I bet like 90% of the fans talked to him about his VA work on Vampire Diaries, The Big Bang Theory, Gravity Falls and Nicholas Hoult lol).

And of course, because DA4 happened so recently, it was still fresh in his memory. He told us that he even watched some Let's Plays and asked what we thought of the game and I'm still laughing so hard, because he was literally like "Oh yeah, the lore is MASSIVE and it was so overwhelming and I could barely keep up with it, the whole time I had no idea what I was talking about.. like, what exactly IS Mythal??" LMAOOO His performance for Solas was so good and so convincing and now I'll always have to picture him standing in the recording booth, no flippin clue what he's actually talking about. lmaoo And then my friend was pointing at me like "She's actually a walking lore encyclopedia" and then he was like "Oh, you should've been in the booth then!" lol

And I'm actually quite upset on his behalf now, because he also told us how, when the English VAs were officially announced, he had actually made a post on social media about how he was returning for Solas in DA4 and how he got in so much trouble for that because EA told him they were going to make an official announcement.... AND THEN THEY NEVER DID??? Like, I was desperately waiting for an announcement about the German voice cast and they simply never made one, we literally had to wait for the credits to be published? (Also, the German and French version have only one female and one male voice for Rook and no one knows what happened there, we tried to contact them about it, but no response so far?? It's like they don't even care.) That's EA for you...

Anyway, we then chatted a bit more about his other work and stuff and he recorded an audio for me (I actually got him to say the "Vir shiral malasa, bellanaris" GUYS AND IT SOUNDS SO GOOD, like I was so nervous, asking "Could you do elven..?" and he was like "Sure, it's been a year, might be a bit rusty" and then he just knocked it out of the park?? lmao So I have both Lavellan's AND Solas' WEDDING VOWS NOW. 😭😭😭❤❤❤❤❤)

So yeah, that was my meeting with Ozan flippin Ünal and what an awesome guy and amazing VA and what an "epic conclusion" of this year of the Dragon (Age) 2024. lol And the timing feels so strange now, because, in a way, it feels kinda like coming full circle?

Like I said in the beginning, for years I was always mainly a lurker in the fandom and the reason why I created this blog was to join in on the hype/speculation train for DA4 and to talk about Solas' German and French voices and share my silly edits and gifs. And now I've played Veilguard AND I've met Ozan Ünal.. both things that, at some point, I wasn't sure were ever going to happen.....

So.. In terms of my fandom experience, this year was crazy and whatever 2025 brings and whatever happens with this blog or DA in general... I love this fandom (especially my little Solasmancer bubble <3) and I love Dragon Age and whoever's reading this, here's to 2025 and I hope you have a Happy New Year!! 💜💜💜💜💜

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archduchessofnowhere · 2 months ago

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The tropification of Elisabeth of Austria and the perils of historical dramas without history: A review of Die Kaiserin season 1

Back in 2022 Netflix long awaited (by me at least) new historical drama about Empress Elisabeth of Austria premiered. And to my great disappointment, the series had little to nothing to do with history. Now, two years later, we are on the eve of the premiere of the series’ second season. Since I’d forgotten most of the story, I decided to do a rewatch of season 1, despite my deep dislike of it back in the day. I usually don’t do this, I truly believe that (unless you’re a paid reviewer and it’s your literal job) the only reason for watching a series should be that you like it. If it wasn’t because of my completionist drive to finish every piece of media relating to Elisabeth and analyze the hell out of it, I would’ve dropped it two episodes in. But I promised a review in 2022, and I still feel bad for not finishing writing it then. So at last, here is my review of Die Kaiserin.

Revisiting Die Kaiserin was an interesting experience, if just as frustrating as my first watch was. The character assassination of literally every real person depicted in this series is still infuriating, the costumes and hairstyles are dreadful, and the portrayal of the few historical events is so bad it makes any person with some knowledge of the time period roll their eyes and wish the series had gotten canceled in pre-production. And yet, looking at it from the outside, trying to watch it as if I were an spectator who doesn’t know nor cares about the time period and only wants to kill time with Netflix’s shine new period drama series, Die Kaiserin reveals itself exactly for what it is: a mediocre soap opera set in a half-assed court setting. Upon this rewatch I realized that the biggest crime of this series isn’t that it’s inaccurate, but how boringly predictable it truly is. It’s not that the characters are nothing like their historical counterparts, it’s that they are not characters at all. They are stereotypes, walking tropes crashed against each other like dolls in the hands of a child. And the entire plot of this series is built around serving these tropes.

Although we are not given a clear year at any point on-screen, the story begins in 1853 as it always does when it comes to Sisi media: with a young and rebellious Elisabeth learning that her elder sister Helene is going to be the emperor of Austria’s future bride. The first episode proceeds to re-imagine the fated encounter of the Duchesses in Bavaria with Franz Josef and his family, finishing with the climatic moment in which the emperor reveals that he will marry the younger Elisabeth instead of her sister, shocking everyone present (in fiction, for in real life the entire family realized right away that he had fallen in love with his cousin at first sight).

So far, the typical beginning of every piece of media about young Elisabeth under the sun. But then the series makes the bizarre choice of setting the entire season in an atemporal space in which nothing of note happens. The episodes usually take place during a brief period of time (from a couple of hours to a single day at most), yet it is uncertain how much time passes between them: days? months? Who even knows. The timeline is fuzzy, bending to the whims of the script.

You now may wonder: why does that matter? Plenty of good series don’t have clear timelines. And I agree, there are indeed good series which don’t need a clear timeline. I just don’t believe historical series about real people whose lives are well documented are one of them. Why am I tuning in the history based series and finding no history at all? Why can’t I even guess in which month are we supposed to be in?

In the later years there has been a boom of period dramas which are historical satires, historical fantasies and/or alternative history. These series take history and throw it out of the window for the sake of their plot (whether it’s romance or comedy or both). And I don’t hate them, in fact I thoroughly enjoyed plenty of them. But Die Kaiserin doesn’t belong to this genre. Die Kaiserin is supposed to be a serious historical drama. I still remember that before the series premiered the screenwriters talked about how they wanted to follow the steps of The Crown. Yet the quality of the script is far more reminiscent of the alternative history teen drama Reign. If Reign thought it was The Crown.

What is the point of taking these real people, ignoring the entire context in which they lived, and throwing them into completely fictional settings, while still claiming you’re adapting their lives? If Die Kaiserin had owned what it was, if it had not pretended to be a serious historical drama, I don’t think I would’ve been as upset as I was when the series was released.

I realize this is a personal frustration since I know and care for the real history, and that someone who doesn’t probably didn’t notice the dozens of inaccuracies that plague this series. That’s okay. But I can’t help but feeling a deep disappointment in the fact that I’m not the target audience of a series about one of my favorite women from history. Which also makes me wonder: if not us, the people with a genuine interest in history, then who is the audience for this series?

I don’t have an answer. Not only “the general public” is as vague as it gets, time and time again “the general public” has shown they can and will love historical dramas more grounded in fact. I wholly disagree on this notion that you must “dumb down” history in order to make it more palatable. Again, audiences have shown they can enjoy complex writing - a memo I wish the screenwriters of Die Kaiserin had received.

Because even putting the inaccuracies aside, I ultimately just don’t think the writing of this series is good. Going back to the beginning of the review, upon my rewatch I realized something: this series is almost entirely made up of well defined but poorly developed tropes. This series feels written as if it was one of those viral Tiktok books whose entire plot is just a list of popular tropes. “Love triangle with a villain”, “fierce FMC”, “betrayal”, “falls first/falls harder”; and I could go on. Any complexity is simplified in order to create an easy to watch story, every character is made into a one-dimensional caricature. It is also ironic that, despite the screenwriters’ clear attempts to distance their series from every previous portrayal of the empress - to the point of having Elisabeth disdain her nickname “Sisi”, which is never be used after the first episode - they fall into almost every already existing stereotype on Sisi media anyways. Elisabeth as a humble country girl deemed the “troublemaker” of the family? Check. Sophie as an evil mother-in-law who manipulates her son and daughter-in-law? Check. The empress reconciling the discontent masses of the empire with her kindness alone? Check check check.

I highly doubt I’ll ever watch this season again. I simply do not like it, and I know it may not seem like it given how much I’ve been talking about this series lately, but I don’t enjoy being a hater. It’s just that I’ve been following this series since the project was first announced years ago, and I’m still mad about how much it missed the mark. Will there ever be an Elisabeth - or just 19th century Habsburg/Wittelsbach - historical series with actual history in it? As of now, sadly, it still feels like an impossible dream.

#this is so long i'm sorry jgjgkgk #and there's so many things i didn't even got into aaaaaah #also i wrote it having in mind the the 3+ people who will read it probably already read my rants before lol #that's why i don't go into a lot of detail on the series inaccuracies #anti die kaiserin #review #the empress (2022)#die kaiserin (2022)

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clairedaring · 1 year ago

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Nonkul and Bright's experience in queer media prior to I Feel You Linger In The Air

So... I've fallen down the huge rabbit hole that is I Feel You Linger In The Air (even though I was already down bad earlier this year when I finished the novels) since the airing of the series. I've tried my best to consume everything translated IFYLITA-related content and now I'm here to summarize a few points I love about the (immaculate) casting of Nonkul and Bright.

For Nonkul

Prior to IFYLITA, Nonkul has had a few BL-adjacent projects:

2014 indie gay film "Love's Coming", where he plays a friend of the gay protagonist.

2016 sitcom series "Bang Rak Soi 9/1", where he plays a student with a crush on his straight best friend (main character played by Tongtong, who you may have known from To Sir With Love or Khun Chai)

2019 chinese bromance "Dive", where he plays the 2nd main lead who develops "strong friendship" with the protagonist as swimming teammates

But IFYLITA marks Nonkul's first time playing in a BL series where he is the protagonist.

Back in 2021, Nonkul posted this Q&A video on Facebook, where he answered the question "If you have a chance, would you consider playing in a BL series? If accepted, who do you to co-act with?". To which Nonkul went on a full long discussion on how he doesn't view BL as a genre and talks about what kind of role he would want to play (full clip below).

youtube

Transcript:

If that series is an interesting storyline for me, I am always open to any kind of genre. I never categorized BL series as an BL series, I just think of it as a series with another plot as part of my work. It is a normal series that can have any of the plots which I will categorize as Romantic Comedy, Drama or whatever. Thus, when I choose the BL series I want to work with, the love preference of the character does not affect my decision. If the plot of the series is interesting, of course I'm gonna do it for sure. Every work that I chose, I personally think it at least enjoyable for me. Of course, if in the future, there are BL series with plots that I find interesting, that I enjoyed the script. "Like, wow, that's my type!", I will definitely selected it to be my future project. A good written series is a good series. This is what I believe as an actor. - Nonkul

For BL Series, I think I can work with everyone. I don't think I have anyone in particular. One thing! I desire the character of that person/actor? to be close to the character in the series. At that point I will be satisfied. Sometimes, I as an actor have a chance to work with people who didn't have a lot of acting experience. I will still discover something new from him as well. And there is a BL novel which I really like! [Nonkul explains the plot of his favorite BL Novel 'Peremo'] I would prefer to choose the "heroine" role because it will be a new experience for me as an actor because it will be a new experience for me as an actor. Because basically I only play as a hero role for the main character or support character in my work, but a "heroine" role in a BL series is the only chance for me to play a character more feminine. So it is a new experience for me. [Nonkul continues raving about 'Peremo']. But if you think that you can make [an adaptation of Peremo], please do not forget me, Nonkul! Pleaseeeeeeee, I will do my best, I promise!!! However, I'm not only fixated on this novel. I'm also open for many more BL series if there is an interesting plot. - Nonkul

Interestingly the 3 checklists Nonkul mentioned his dream BL novel/character 'Peremo' had was 1. playing the 'heroine' role; 2. it has a LOT of action; 3. it is also sci-fi fantasy genre. And then in 2022, Nonkul booked 2 action dramas and IFYLITA which checked off criteria 1 and 3 of his wishlist (he mentioned it in this interview).

In 2022, at the beginning of IFYLITA announcement event, Nonkul mentioned that one of reasons that he accepted to play Jom in IFYLITA is that the story didn’t just put love scenes in just for fan services. Previously he had rejected some series because of that.

Nonkul read the novel prior to the acceptance of the role and you can tell he put a lot of care into bringing Jom to life (Nonkul immediately tweeting his apology after the pilot trailer is out about him accidentally using right hand to sketch (because Jom is left-handed), discussing various novel details with fans of the book at event, discussing how to punch Ohm like Jom would instead of punching him regularly as he would in other series, even giving book-film comparison commentaries in the BTS of the episodes)

Nonkul's physical and facial features are also so similar to Jom in the novel, especially his Chinese heritage is taken into account by the casting directors (Jom is also Thai of Chinese heritage iirc). Honestly kudos to P'Tee and co for snatching Nonkul.

For Bright

Prior to IFYLITA, Bright has played a supporting male gay character in the CH3 Lakorn 'Rivalry' and starred in PP Krit's MV 'It's Okay Not To Be Alright'.

But IFYLITA still marks Bright's first ever male lead role (ngl I was quite shocked when I found out about this because like the man is SIGNED to CH3, what are they doing?) AND his first official "BL" series.

Bright also accept the role of Khun Yai after he went to buy the novel and read them.

Before filming, Bright practiced a lot to portrayed Khun Yai as close to the novel as possible (the way Khun Yai walks with hands behind his back, his posture, him speaking in the different local dialect...)

Here are some translated interview questions Nonkul and Bright did before filming IFYLITA for bangkokbiznews that I found really interesting and want to share (original Thai article) (translated by twitter user lingerair/eugust)

Question: How is your individual characters? How are they similar or different from you? (1)

Nonkul: Jom and I are very different. Jom has soft and sensitive part. He cried so many times, and often gets upset with things that if it's me, I wouldn't be upset like him but his tears is already flowing. Bright: Khun Yai is quite similar with me. He's calm and wise. It's easy to be Khun Yai when I read the script. I try to put myself as Khun Yai. I'm Khun Yai and Khun Yai is me. I always think like this to be able to moderately act as Khun Yai.

Question: BL series has become a powerful "soft power". What do you about this? (2)

Nonkul: To be honest, whatever entertainment media it is, I view all of them as soft power but can't deny that during this period foreigners are especially interested in Thai Y series. I think it's a good thing. In the end, no matter what kind of content they are interested, it's a pleasant thing. Bright: Bright agrees (to that) very much. There are so many BL series with many fans both in and outside of the country, thus I think that it's good quality soft power in presenting a lot of things. Such as "I Feel You Linger In The Air" has a lot of Thai culture incorporated it in. Nonkul: Since it's period (series), it won't look like we're forcing Thai culture into (the series). We want foreigners to learn about how was it during the era and how it affects the present.

Question: This novel has a lot of fans waiting, do you feel pressured in taking a role in this? (3)

Nonkul: There's a little bit of pressure but personally, when I've worked till this point, I'm kinda used to this. I can say that I already have some expectations (for myself) and receive some pressures as a motivation in working but I'm not that stressed by it. Bright: Similar to Non, I'm a little bit pressured but we will both do our best, everyone will do their best. Fans has expectations because they want to watch the adaptation. We'll do it in our way and we hope everyone'll likes it.

As a huge fan of the novel, I just love how much love Nonkul and Bright have for the original novel and the amount "homework", care and dedication they have to crafting their characters to be as close as possible. I really hope everyone who have reservation or hesitance watching I Feel You Linger In The Air because you didn't vibe with previous Dee Hup House’s productions, should still give IFYLITA a chance (or at least try watching Episode 6 & 7) because it is seriously unlike any previous DHH’s productions (in all aspects: plot, direction, pacing, cinematography, music, lighting, color-grading, overall production…)

For my post on Bright and Nonkul's preparation for IFYLITA

#i feel you linger in the air #ifylita #bright rapheephong #nonkul chanon #more ifylita info-dumping #cross posting from my reddit #most info y'all probably already knew but i just wanted to share that clip of nonkul raving about that one action bl novel he read #i just know nonkul would love to star in a high budget action bl series like kinnporsche #yai x jom #im promoting this series like crazy but im telling... im telling you... don't sleep on this series PLEASE #my writing #claire opens her goddamn mouth

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writingshushf1 · 2 years ago

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Wildest dreams

Summary: Lewis Hamilton was screwed. He realised that he fell in love with his best friend, the one where he promised he wouldn’t do it, especially in the condition they were in.

Rating: +16

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.3

Notes: this is the first fic of a series that is inspired by @mignonricciardo “formula one drivers as romance tropes' so the credit of the original idea goes to her! ofc, i changed some bits because i refuse to remember ad 2021

masterlist

2022

The car was shit. W13 let it down since the moment they tested it for the first time and he wasn’t happy. He tried to let it all go after 2021, to think positive and be back at competing with his team - but no, the universe was playing a joke on him. And to top it off, gossip about him was going all around it, like he was a prey, waiting to be eaten alive. His PR executive bolted inside the room while he was doing a physical therapy session with Angela, his back was killing him.

“Not now, Mimi…” He murmured, trying to turn up the music, but she put a hand on top of him.

“I think it’s the time. You need a relationship to make the vultures talk about anything else.”

“What? But I’m not seeing anyone…” He raised his head, scrunching up his nose.

“Well, it can be a fake relationship! Just need a contract, a really good one, some lawyers and boom! New girlfriend in less than two weeks.” She was restlessly typing on her phone.

He sighed loudly, stopping his exercise and sat down, passing his hands on his thighs. “Fine.” Angela looked a bit sceptical towards him. “With one condition.”

“Only one? I can see that you’re evolving! Simpler.” She joked.

“I’ll choose the girl.”

“Fair, it’s you that will be dating her.”

……………………………………………………………………………..

You were snoring softly against the pillow, your limbs just screamed with pain and this nap was really the only thing that you needed right now, however, your doorbell started to ring. With an angry groan, you stood up from your bed and walked towards the door, opening and seeing a very anxious Lewis Hamilton there.

“Hey, Lew… Kinda weird for you to visit me in the middle of the week, especially that you have a race on sunday. You know, there’s a thing called cell phones…” He didn’t even wait for you to finish talking and walked inside your loft. “Oh, okay then, no manners, I see.”

“So… I need your help.”

“Here it comes… What’s wrong, mate?” You sat next to him, holding his hand.

“So, my PR wants me to be in a relationship. A fake. So the media will focus on something else about me.”

“Do you need me to find you a bloke?”

“Kind of. Actually… Would you be in?” He looked at you with exasperation in his eyes. “It’s just… We've been friends for years now, people have seen us together a lot, they always suspected it… And I trust you. A lot.”

“That’s…” You sighed, letting your back hit the soft cushion. “A lot. Like- It will affect my career, for sure! Or I won’t have time to be this aesthetic WAG of a Formula One driver. I love you, Lew… But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I know! I know! But… Everything sucks since last year and if I’m going to do this so I can wipe out all of the shit, at least I’m doing it with someone I love.”

You just heard his words and kept quiet for a few seconds, reflecting if this was not as insane as your brain wants to put it. Well, it is very outside of the norm to have your very famous friend asking you to be his fake girlfriend for the media, but at the same time, you’ve felt honoured that he thought about you first amongst all of your common friends.

“Well.. Since you asked nicely, we can arrange that.” You laid your head on his shoulder. “Fuck, you really know how to convince me.”

“Always did that very well and you know it.”

…………………………………………………………………

A few days later, some meeting with both of your lawyers, a contract - evolving money, you were planning on how to make it public your “relationship”. Your profiles on social media were all private, so no one could see except from pictures that he would post.

“Okay… So we can make this very secretive, to make them talk about it.” Miranda, the PR, suggested it.

“Maybe some fancy dates at restaurants?” He suggested.

“And sometimes, you leave the paddock holding flowers, like you’re going to give to someone else.” You completed it.

“And then, he can take you to a race, but just simple gestures, no kissing, of course. But enough to make them crazy for a break.” The PR finished, smiling. “And remember, you can have other people, as long as you’re very secretive about it, we don’t want a cheating scandal.”

“I kinda feel bad about the fans, they will be very happy.” The British man said, sipping on his whiskey.

“It’s your fault you didn’t want to fall in love.”

“My bad that no one would be as good as you.” He poked his tongue out, laughing.

“Such a cheesy man, are you, huh? I didn’t know that.”

………………………………………………………………….

The first few weeks of you being “together”, some paparazzis caught you two in some fancy restaurants, running together. At the beginning, it was awkward, you were friends, sure… But this whole situationship about pretending to be together was leaving you into a weird space everytime you two were alone. Of course, he tried to avoid it, skipping this step, but inevitably it would happen for a while.

Then, he invited you to spend a weekend with him, a race weekend. Your first thought was to deny at all costs, it was going to be so uncomfortable, especially with paparazzi all around you both. However, with a little of his encouragement words and reassurance that you did not need to go in with him through the Paddock, you agreed to it.

Sunday morning, he got this two bedroom ensuite on, so you wouldn't actually sleep at the same place, but not to leave any suspicions in case someone invaded your privacy. Lewis was up early, shifting around, shower on then off, blow dryer, lights on and off. You groaned and got up, opening your door and showing the middle finger towards him.

“Good morning, love.” He smiled, and threw some clothes at you.

“What’s that?”

“Some matching clothes. I know we won’t walk in together, but… I need to know you’re mine.” His cocky smile appeared.

“You…” You pulled the mostly monochromatic yellow outfit. “How?”

“Oh! And I have some shoes and accessories, you can look into that bag!”

“Okay, you really put yourself through.”

“Go get dressed! We’ll leave for breakfast soon!”

“I’m sorry, but I need makeup to look hot, so you will sit your fine ass down and let me do my magic.”

“Anything for my queen.”

“Cheesy!” You screamed, going to the bathroom with all of the things he gave to you.

After an hour, you two were finally going to the paddock. He was wearing an all yellow outfit and it perfectly matched with you. It was dumb? Yeah, but the butterflies were running up on his chest, the feeling of his missing puzzle piece being there just made everything even more confusing. He let you go out first, entering another through another gate - with almost no one around except for the team crew, then of course he made his entrance, looking handsome as always, while you were already at Mercedes’ hospitality, getting an espresso. When he appeared with a smile, extending a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers.

“Thank you.” You murmured, kissing his cheek.

“It’s not for publicity, okay? It’s an acknowledgment for being the best.”

“But the paparazzi loved it, people are really going crazy.” You could hear his laugh and it made your heart flutter.

………………………………………………………….

The end of the season sucked, Lewis had a DNF on Abu Dhabi, which made at least that horrible car have its end. He was upset, everything in that year about racing was just messed up, but at least he had you along the way.

You gave him a few days to breathe, acknowledge this unusual year for him, Hamilton needed this time for himself and you understood. Of course, it was mundane now, from spending some weekends knowing new countries and having fun with him, it was paradise, now you got it why women would always throw themselves at his feet, I mean- he was handsome and polite and also your friend for years, but you’ve never seen that way, a different side of the british man. You smiled with the pictures that popped up on your twitter, of you two hanging out the night before the last race, his hand around your waist, a stunning smile that could light up the whole room and stylish outfits - that you’ve always tried to match and look as fashionable as he is, however, the dark skinned man would steal the scene every time he stepped on the paddock for a race weekend.

The sound of some random tv show played in the background as you kept scrolling your instagram feed, just to kill some time. Out of the blue, Hamilton’s nickname appeared on the screen and you thought it was weird, why would he call when texting was quicker? Without waiting, you answered the call, pressing your legs together in anticipation.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi, Lew. Why calling? Especially in the middle of the day.”

“Oh… Wanna drive somewhere? I just could use some company.”

“Of course?” The request was a bit out of his usual character, however you knew him enough to know he just wanted to empty his mind.

“Pick you up in five.”

“Ok!”

And he hung up. You managed to put on a hoodie, sneakers and some makeup - just a bit of mascara, lipgloss and a blush, to look more “alive”. In exactly five minutes his car was pulling on your driveway. He opened the door for you and soon you two were going off to… somewhere.

The ride was rather quiet, just some pop music from the radio filling up the silence - comfortable silence. In less than an hour, he pulled up on a beautiful view, between the rocks you could see a river that was starting to freeze.

“Everything okay?” You said, in a low tone.

“Yeah. Just wanted to drive off, but your company makes it better.”

…………………………………………………………………………………

After that night, where you contemplated the view, talked and reflected on how your lives have changed in those last years, he took you home and wished you a good night. This became frequent, drive offs to different places, inviting you to his morning runs and hikes - which you weren’t so good, so he would continuously hold your hips and sometimes, when he was in his best mood, his hand would slip into yours on the rides back to your house and it was the best sensation in the whole world.

That’s when he knew he fell in love and all of this was more than some publicity contract, Lewis wanted to be by your side, it was the moments where he could be himself and no judgments from anyone, just you two in some remote place, far from paparazzi. At first, he didn’t want to believe, he promised himself, right before all of this had started, he wouldn’t fall in love with you. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Yet, there he was, sitting down on his sofa, looking at pictures that he took of you on top of some hill, smiling. Quickly he called Miranda, Angela and Russell on a video call.

“I think I fell for her. And I promised myself I wouldn’t be in this state.” He sighed dramatically.

“That was just a matter of time, mate.” The British younger driver said, chuckling.

“What?”

“I hate to say it, but… You really sold the couple thing.” Miranda completed. “She looks at you like you’re the one.”

“I’m thirty-eight and I’m freaking out just like a teenager trying to deny its first love. And she’s an old friend. Great!” He passed his hands on the loose curls of his hair. “I really didn’t think I could actually feel that.”

………………………………………………………………………..

After another drive to a beautiful sight with no one else, he parked his car in front of your house. Looking at you for a few seconds before he tried to pay attention to something else. You noted that right away, thinking that he did get a bit distant those last few days, especially after his birthday, so you figured out that maybe you said the wrong thing or he found someone to actually be with him, so you would be finishing the contract on the publicity stunt. Well, it was good while it lasted, but it didn’t stop you to feel a heartbreak coming into you. As a mature woman, you breathed in and looked at him.

“Something is wrong with you. Spill it out.”

“Well… Something is wrong. And I need to talk to you about it.”

“Go for it, Hamilton. You know I can take it.”

“What?”

“What do you think I’m going to say?”

“That we should end this?”

“Oh… Love. Wait. Listen to me first.” He held both of your hands. “ At the beginning this was to save my ass and to have some company on the weekends, but with all those months being… In this fake relationship made me realise something…” He breathed in, closing his eyes. “I’m in love with you. I don’t want this to be a publicity stunt. I want you to be with me as mine. My girl.”

You put your hand on his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. “I didn’t know you were so romantic.”

He didn’t wait for more and soon his lips were against yours in a calm yet romantic kiss. His hands lowered to your hips, pulling your body closer to his, while he deepened the touch. When air made it necessary, you were almost on his lap and both of your cheeks were bright red.

“Come in with me. I promise there’s no paparazzi waiting for us inside.”

He laughed and got out of the car, opening the door for you as you two rushed inside like horny teenagers.

#lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #lewis hamilton x you

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hongcherry · 1 year ago

Text

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!

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