#are there really people who life is easy for consistently like can have a whole entire week. where life is fine and not extremely difficult

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Centaur Worldbuilding

this one has been in the works for a really long time! but here it is at last: the details about how I personally have chosen to worldbuild with centaurs.

My centaurs are based on chalicotheres, popularly referred to as "gorilla horses". I thought they were a perfect base to start from when making people that resemble a horse combined with a human. Though my centaurs lean way more into the chalicothere look and don't resemble humans much at all.

here are a few variations on color/pattern for centaur coats, based mostly on paleoart of chalicotheres.

(image description: six illustrations of centaurs with different coloration. The two main colors are a red-brown and a duller tan color. the three main patterns are soft gradients, stripes, and spots. end description.)

and it is a really really long post so the rest is under a cut for convenience.

The reason centaurs have six limbs is because somewhere back in their ancient ancestry, chimeric twins became more and more common and then became the default. There was most certainly some meddling from a Life entity in order to make this happen (the immortal beings who channel the world's natural magic energy to mess with living things as they please, though they can only use a limited amount of power before they fade into that vast well of energy and disappear). This does mean that the front "legs" of a centaur are actually a pair of arms. The main differences between the upper arms and the front legs are the placement of the shoulder, the amount of muscle, and how the centaurs trim their hooves for dexterity or support.

(image description: two drawings of a centaur standing while bending down to touch the ground with their hands. the second image shows an overlay of their skeleton, illustrating the chimeric twin anatomy with its split ribcage and two pairs of forelimbs, or arms. They have three hooved digits on each hand/foot on all six limbs. visually, their face is a bit horse-like and their whole body is colored reddish-brown with a pale belly. end description.)

and yes, they can use use their front legs as a pair of secondary arms when needed. They're not as dextrous a pair of arms, but they do make a lot of tasks easier, such as being able to buckle a bag strap around one's own belly, or catching hold of a rambunctious foal before they run face first into your knees.

(any inconsistencies in these proportions from here onward is entirely down to my own artistic flaws, as keeping character/creature designs perfectly consistent is not easy)

Because they are chimeric twins, it is far more common for centaurs to be born with congenital defects than it is for any other group. The second pair of forelimbs and the added height of the upper torso may be extremely useful for leaf-browsing creatures like centaurs, but the messy nature of their gestation often causes problems. Much of the time, this leads to stillbirths and miscarriage. but some defects are survivable and every herd has a good number of disabled members.

(image description: simple sketches of three visibly disabled centaurs using mobility aids. The first one has underdeveloped forelegs, and is using a combination of crutches and a wheeled platform under their lower torso. the second one was born without the chimeric twin, resembling a chalicothere. they have a folding support stand strapped to their belly to support their weight when they need to use their hands. the last one has a ribcage that failed to split, resulting in a short torso like the twinless centaur, as well as a pair of underdeveloped forelegs. they are using a wheeled platform under their chest, which they can push with their upper pair of arms. end description.)

These are just a few of the more visible and survivable disabilities common to centaurs. wheels are a very important invention for centaur life, not only for their disabled population, but also because pulling carts is a much more effective way to carry a lot of items at once, which is very useful.

Centaurs are also enormous. twelve feet, or roughly 3.5 meters, tall from the base of their front toes to the top of their head when standing upright. They tower over pretty much every other people species, as they are basically just a remnant ice age megafauna that became sapient.

(image description: flat colored drawings of an orc, an elf, and a centaur all standing next to each other. the orc comes roughly to the centaur's upper ribs, and the elf is roughly as tall as the orc's armpit. end description)

it would be extremely rude, but anyone the size of an average elf or smaller could easily play limbo under a centaur's belly. it's a really bad idea though.

Orcs are also remnant megafauna, and it's not by coincidence. Their ancestors were the main predator of ancient centaurs. (this also means the ancestors of gnomes were the main predator of centaurs, but this fact is often overlooked since gnomes are so much smaller than their cousins). even into the modern day (of my stories) centaurs mostly live in their own isolated territories, actively keeping other people out. Especially the orcs. The journey from natural predator and prey, to sapient peoples who did not recognize each other as people, to enemies, and then to tensely peaceful separated populations, was a long and difficult journey, fraught with violence on all sides.

Where the line falls between animal and people is murky and difficult to define. When exactly did the natural behavior of hunting prey become grounds for warfare? No one is really sure. Even if the line is drawn, what would it change? nothing. the past already happened. their people already have an enormous divide between them; a chasm of blood that can't be forgotten.

(image description: a vividly colored digital painting of an ancient centaur trying to escape three ancient pig-like predators as they pounce and bite in their attempt to bring it down. end description.)

many orcish artifacts still remain in centaur territory as the result of many clashes and hurried retreats. The orcs conceded, in the end. they returned all their belongings that were made from the bodies of centaurs, allowed the centaurs to draw the territorial lines, and then kept themselves far away and avoided those areas for centuries.

Centaurs are a migrational species, so orcs were too. Orcish culture used to focus on centaurs as a sacred animal, and then they had to toss it all aside and build their culture back up from whatever they had left. and in the meantime, the centaurs who had spent so many generations fleeing predation, watching their most frail herd members be picked off, and fighting back at last to defend themselves, were free to rest and build their culture far beyond their prior means. they became master weavers, using a wide variety of plant fibers to create clothing and art and useful items they didn't have time for when they were more in danger of being hunted. Though most centaurs still choose to go around with very little clothing, if any, because it feels more practical.

(image description: three different centaur outfits. the first is minimal, all jewelry and simple gloves. the note on it says "small accessories and jewelry are often more practical for an active centaur." the second one is wearing bark cloth around both of their waists to act as a barrier between their body and the straps of large bags on their back. They are also wearing gloves and cloth wraps around their hands and feet. the note here says "centaurs are largely nomadic and have developed many durable weaving techniques to create high quality travel bags." and lastly is a ceremonial outfit, featuring a cape and gloves all dyed in vivid shades of green with leafy patterns in the cloth. the cape is decorated with a fringe of thin cedar strips, matching a headdress of the same material. behind their head, the centaur wears a skull. the note here says "Religious garb often uses centaur skulls to reflect the nature of their conjoined deities. The Withered Twins are more commonly represented because they are a healer and gentle guide." end description)

and one very common piece of clothing for all adult centaurs is the "I'm not your mom" blanket; a weighted cloth laid over the flank to deter nosy newborns during peak baby season.

(image description: a striped adult centaur wearing a cropped shirt with beaded straps and a fancy looking leaf-pattern blanket strapped around their lower waist shoos off a speckled foal who looks a bit confused. end description.)

nosy newborns very easily forget who their mom is and need to be redirected quite often. though some lactating centaurs are more than willing to share the burden of keeping all the babies fed, and their culture does involve a lot of communal child rearing. monogamous couples and exclusive marital bonds are uncommon in centaur herds.

Most herds are led by a council of elders, who are trusted to make wise decisions as they follow their ancestral migration paths and constantly assess the needs of the herd. Some of the most important elders are those who act as religious leaders, representing the conjoined deities. Centaurs generally have two main deities. The Perfected Twins, a warrior deity, and The Withered Twins, a deity representing both death and healing.

(image description: two vibrant illustrations of centaur deities, both with a long braid of hair, their heads framed by shining circular designs like halos.

in shades of red, the warrior deity, the perfected twins, is noted to represent defense, fury, power, and hope. they have two active heads, joined at an angle in the middle so they look in different directions, two pairs of upper arms holding a shield, a spear, and a bow and arrow, and four legs. They are wearing armor on their upper waist and all of their arms. They are rearing up and look to be charging into battle.

in shades of blue, the death deity, the withered twins, noted to represent protection, healing, love, and grief. they have one active head and a smaller, partly decayed head attached to the back of their skull. Their forelegs are also underdeveloped and scrawny. their whole body is overlayed with a skeletal design. They are curled into a protective pose, holding a twinless infant with their whole torso and front limbs depicted as bones with no flesh. the deity is also wearing a translucent cape attached to upper arm bracelets.

end description)

centaurs have been fully aware of their chimeric twin biology for centuries, though they did not have the means to study it in detail or understand exactly what was happening during gestation. it's not hard though, to notice that your species is made of fused twin bodies when so many of your people are born with their bodies fused wrong, especially those who are stillborn. They believe they also have twin souls, and that the twin who is sacrificed in the womb gets to be the dominant twin in their next life. those who are born twinless usually undergo a lot of spiritual meditation to connect with their lost twin so they can meet up again in death. the stillborn foals with more obvious conjoined anatomy are said to be twins who had a fight about which of them would be dominant this time, and so they came out wrong and had to try again.

the infant held by the Withered Twins represents the sacrificed twin who waits as a spirit for their turn in the next life while the living twin uses their arms and ribs. The Withered Twins are the most commonly worshipped deity, prayed to for comfort and healing and guidance, acting as a conduit for living centaurs to stay in touch with their twin's soul. but the Perfected Twins also play an important role in centaur culture, even though their fierce warrior nature is no longer needed since the centaurs were able to separate themselves from the orcs.

the Perfected Twins represent the idealize form; the possibility of both twins sharing a body, neither being sacrificed while the other remains alive and dominant. they represent community action, partnership, cooperation. when needed, they are prayed to for strength. their image guards the borders of centaur territories, a signal to all outsiders that the centaurs have not grown docile even in isolation. at a moment's notice, they will take up arms again to keep themselves safe.

in the canon of my main stories, there was a very important historical event involving centaurs. some centuries after the Goblin Revolution shook the world and put everyone through some rough patches as various populations turned to isolation and self-imposed segregation to prevent any other interspecies troubles, while other populations embraced interspecies cooperation, there was an orc in one country who took the lead of a large clan and decided to end their tradition of isolation and reach out to the other people species in the local area. his name was He-esh and he was the first orc in that part of the world to strike an alliance with the nearby dwarf clans. he did a lot of other notable things, acting as a diplomat and repairing the broken relationship his people had with their gnomish cousins.

most notable of all, however, was his bold decision to contact the centaurs and lay his life on the line to carry an apology for the actions of his ancestors and plea for alliance between their peoples, hoping it would someday turn into friendship.

(image description: a grayscale illustration with gold accents, showing an orc kneeling in front of an armored centaur while they hold a spear to his chest. both figures have a golden halo drawn around their heads. the orc is wearing simple but elegant looking clothes, including a fringe of black feathers on the hem of his coat, and a pair of long straight tusks in his hair. his own tusks are curled with the points facing backwards. end description.)

He-esh's plea to the centaurs was received with apprehension, quite reasonably. but he never asked forgiveness, only a chance to let the future be forged anew. eventually, the centaurs accepted his plea and he was able to strike an alliance with them, gradually opening trade between them and other people species in their area. though he was never allowed very far in, He-esh got to walk into the centaur territory once to meet with their elders. at the end of He-esh's life, a centaur diplomat made history again by being the first to enter orc territory in a peaceful manner, as far as any records could tell.

this event marks the beginning of my most central story project, so I won't give away all the details yet.

as a final note on my centaurs: they don't have genders. their pronouns are based on age (child and adult) and social hierarchy (important adults).

ila/ las (child pronoun) hul/ hes (adult pronoun) ma-hul/ ma-hes (important adult pronoun)

I haven't been using the correct fantasy pronouns for all my characters very consistently, because it is a little tricky to keep track of them all and I have yet again made changes due to dissatisfaction with a few of them lol. but when I eventually have completed stories, I'll be using all those pronouns to enhance immersion.

this post has been a long time in the making, so i'm glad to finally have it done!! thanks for being patient!

[thedevotionaltour]

i know it gets better i know it will get better but jesus christ man sometimes it doesn't feel worth the wait for it to be better. it would be easier if it was just over. either option of what could be over would be easier.

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

You want to manifest your dream life?

I gotcha! This post is right here to make you stop over-consuming content about LOA and finally be able to manifest your dream reality!

Decide:

Okay, so you first need to decide what you want to manifest.

You want to live in a penthouse and in a Big mansion with your family or sp? you Can! You want to wake up in a magical world you created Guess what? Yes, you Can!

Do you want to wake up with your desired appearance from head to toe? Yes, you Can. And when I say you Can that means you're fucking limitless don't let anybody limit you, 'cause you’re the creator of your own reality, not theirs but yours, and you create the rules here!

throw logic out the window! cause it won’t get you anywhere if you still ask “if i can manifest that and that..”

Okay, so when you decide what you want to manifest you might wonder what will you do next?

Well, it's simple really. just decide that you already have it.

But how?

By simply deciding that you already have your desires/dream life in your 4D/imagination.

using methods:

Now you might need to use methods and by methods that means techniques that will help you achieve your desires and that make you fulfilled, you Can Also create your own method that suits you well.

Note: you don't need to do a certain method that everyone uses and that doesn’t resonate with you.

You Can click here and here you will find all the methods that were used in the LOA community.

my favorite: affirming and this method (click here!).

Then when you start affirming for your Desires or use methods to manifest your Desires you might encounter some issues with the 3d.

Things start going the opposite and you’ll start giving up and doubting yourself and the law.

And that when it comes to the important thing to do and it is called persisting.

Persist:

when you see things start going up the opposite way (in the 3d) and that is when you need to do your job by persisting in the idea of already having your desires in the 4d, by being consistent and stubborn in your assumption.

that it! easy right?

you might have some questions about all of this and how to react in certain situations with the 3d I advice you to read these posts and documents:

This one , this , this , this , this one, this, this.

and lastly, stop it like really stop consuming info and not applying the law, you can still be on this app but just don’t be obsessively always here, always waiting for a new post to make you realize what method or technique or what it is will make you manifest your desires.

remember the key is self, and yes you, the reader who is reading my post, you have such infinite power inside you that could change your whole world 360 degree.

remember to trust yourself and to have faith in the unseen, you can do it I have my trust in you, and always remember that some people were in extremely difficult circumstances and they did what? yes succeed, by having faith in the unseen and persisting in their imagination and now they’re living their best life.

be gentle with yourself, take care of yourself, and prioritize your mental health.

Summary:

: ̗̀➛ decide what you want to manifest.

: ̗̀➛ affirm (or use any methods).

: ̗̀➛persist.

chao chao!

xoxo, Eli.

[knowyourplace-fool]

Bully gojo and shy oc !! Who always torments you and humiliates you. Makes you do all his works and you do out of fear. You don't question him and feels smug . He tells how he hates you( but actually he likes her a lot but he doesn't confess because ypu keep rejecting every guy so he thinks you don't accept him either) and tells you that you are just a burden on this earth but then you get into an accident and don't come to scl for a week. Gojo doesn't know what happened to you and can't find out cuz you don't have frnds either. After a week you come to schl with a bandage to your head and a fracture sling on your arm. He gets worried and clings onto you and tou lash out for the first time telling him that he got what he wanted and he could be happy now. He gets angry and kidnaps you and fucks you🙃

-> omfg YES! gojo is such a bully

-> sorry for any mistakes!

⚠️: NON CON, Kidnapping, Mean!Gojo, physically, mental and emotional abuse, manhandling, bullying, biting, groping, size difference

-> THIS IS REALLY DARK AND FUCKED UP PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK !

All you’ve ever done is mind your own business

Sure, you don’t have many friends but that doesn’t really bother you

You enjoy being independent. Your grades are high in the air, your part time job in your school is more than enough for you to live comfortably. (In this universe, inflation doesn’t exist)

You don’t really talk to anyone, not even family. Whole bunch of drama happened, and they were toxic so you ended up leaving them for university.

Everything seemed to be going as planned until a 6’4 menace walked into your life.

Gojo Satoru was your typical frat boy and the star of the university’s basketball team.

Some may even say the Golden Boy of your university. He was smart, athletic, had a good reputation among the professors and just with people in general. Not to mention, he was ridiculously handsome. Man literally had girls fighting over him.

You’ve seen him in the hallways but never actually interacted with him. He was in a few of your classes but luckily, you guys never were put together in a group.

Until today. Your prof is running a lab and gathered the smartest students he knows to do it for him. It’s kind of a two in one for him, the lab gets complete and you guys gain some experience.

Anyways, the group consists of you, Satoru and his friend Suguru and some other nerdy people

Now unlike Gojo, you already sorta knew Geto. He was really friendly and kind towards you so you were kind of excited to be working with him.

A few days into the lab and Gojo has a sudden fixation with you. Well he always had, but this lab is letting him work closely with you and it’s making his obsession worse.

You’re stupid if you think that Gojo Satoru hasn’t kept on eye out for you. Every time you walk by him in the halls, he gets a hard on just by catching a whiff of you. The cute skirts and the pastel closet you have drives him over the fucking edge.

It takes every cell in his body to resist the urge of grabbing ur wrist, pulling u into the janitors closet and fucking you absolutely dumb and stupid.

You look so cute and innocent, like a little bunny. And god, you are just an easy target to corrupt.

So, Gojo plans a party. A party on the following Saturday after your lab is complete because he knows that you’ll be free.

His plan is to get you to come, keep you company, get you a little hammered, then get a feel of your pussy. Simple plan.

It’s now up to Geto to get you to come to this party. And of course, for his best friend, he’s 100% on board with his plan.

All goes well in the lab and in your final days of completing the report, Geto asked the big question.

“Satoru and I are throwing a party tomorrow. If you’re free, we’d love for you to come. You can bring anyone you want.”

You blush. Party? Your first party? Your brain breaks out in celebration because as much as you liked to spend your weekend relaxing, you also have a severe case of fomo. (Fear of missing out)

Your eyes lit up, saying yes on the spot in excitement. The following day, you went back to your dorm and tore your closet apart, looking for a nice dress. You settled for a blue, body con, summer dress. (despite it not being a party dress but who gives af bc it’s summer)

The next night, you got all dolled up for the party. You made arrangements with Geto to pick you up. He made it on time, looking handsome in his all black fit with his hair in a bun.

You were excited… for nothing.

There was a party (a lit one), but you realized a little too late that your social skills were next to non existent. The whole time, you felt out of place. So you stood in the corner, drink in hand and watched others dance and interact with each other.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

You turn your head only to be faced with a bright blue eyed man, the one and only Gojo Satoru.

“I guess partying is not my thing.”

“Oh come on, come with me.”

He grabbed your hand and headed towards the beer pong table

You and Gojo were a team and surprisingly you two worked perfectly together

The alcohol in your system made you flush, and you found yourself loosening up a bit and having a bit of fun.

Gojo’s plan seemingly was rolling out perfectly. You were a bit drunk, so he took you back to his room to “sober up” (but it was just an excuse to get u alone so he can fuck u but u don’t know that)

Now listen, Gojo got rizz alright. So imagine the look on his face when he went in to kiss you and you slapped him so hard, his face turned the other way.

“I’m not some whore you can use for tonight. I was genuinely having a good time with you, I don’t know why you had to make it sexual.”

You felt like crying. Is this what all guys think about?? Sex?

You get off the bed and head towards the door before you’re pulled back and thrown on the bed

“Satoru, stop! I want to go home.”

And just like how you did with him, he slapped you. Much, much harder.

He didn’t say anything, he just had this look in his eyes that could honestly kill. He took a hold of your wrist with one hand and let his other roam and touch your body.

He pulled your dress up, revealing the lacy, white, underwear you wore. You were a teensy bit wet, not because of him but maybe the alcohol? Or his best friend?

You don’t know, but Gojo thought the wet spot was because of him.

“Tch, saying you don’t wanna hook up but you’re fucking wet f’me.”

He pulled you closer to the head board, reaching out to his night stand and pulling out,,,, cuffs?

“Wait wait wait wait!” You say in a panic. You squirm to get your wrist free but once you feel the metal snake around your wrists and the click afterwards, you were doomed.

Your dress was ripped off by him. Your panty was somewhere on the ground and he easily took off your bra by doing the same thing he did with your dress. You laid nude under him, against your will.

As you can imagine, the night went terribly for you. You weren’t a virgin but it had been a while since you had sex (all the way back in high school) and really it was your first time with someone so experienced.

The next morning, you woke up with him cuddling you from behind while his lanky legs were intertwined with yours

You somehow managed to escape his grip and sneak out of the house before anyone could notice. You did have work, but decided to call in because of… well for obvious reasons.

On Monday, you dreaded to go to school. But with midterms coming around the corner, you couldn’t afford to miss a lecture. You dressed in baggy clothes and took a different route to class to avoid Satoru.

The day was going alright until you had to go to the library to pick out a few books to help you on an assignment.

While you were reaching on your tippy toes, someone behind you grabbed the book which made you quickly turn around. Your eyes meet his bright, blue eyes.

“You’re avoiding me now?”

The anger that overcame you in that moment was indescribable. You wanted to scream at him, hit him, threaten him or somehow bring him down, but you couldn’t.

“Did I fuck you mute? Answer me.”

You took a deep breath in and said, “leave me alone”

“Why? What, you think you’re too good for me? That I don’t have enough worth to fuck you? Is that what it is?”

He grabbed your cheeks with one hand and squished them together, pushing you back against the bookshelf in the process. He was holding you so hard, you couldn’t move.

“Listen to me, you slut. Don’t get our roles mixed here. You’re literally a piece of shit next to me. You hold no value in this world. If you died, no one would even think twice about it because no one gives a flying fuck about you. You think you’re soooo fucking special or something. You think you’re too good for everyone. Well you’re not. You’re just a broke whore, with no friends, no family, no hobby— nothing.”

He roughly let’s go of your face that you nearly fall to the floor. You tried your best but couldn’t help but cry at his words. Gojo swings off his backpack, grabs a note package and hands it to you.

“This assignment is due tomorrow at noon. I haven’t gotten the chance to start it because of basketball. So you’re going to do it for me cause you’re a worthless, bunny that has nothing else to do after school hours. And before you think about handing in something stupid, take a look at this.”

He pulls out his phone and in a matter of 10 seconds, you felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.

A video. Of you. Getting fucked by the Gojo Satoru. It’s evident that you’re crying but it’s easy to cover it up with an “excuse”. Your face held a horrified expression.

“P-please, delete that! Please, I’ll do it but please just- just delete the video please!”

“No, not until that assignment is handed in and I have to get 100% on it. If it isn’t handed in or I don’t receive 100%, this will be leaked to everyone in a matter of minutes. I’ll post this shit everywhere with your full name on it, got it?”

You felt like crying and throwing up at the same time. This felt worse than a nightmare. This felt worse than dying even. “Okay, I’ll try my best but I don’t know if I can get-”

“If you don’t get 100 on this assignment, I’m leaking it. I don’t give a shit. I already showed Suguru— sick bastard got off to it, and I’m sure many more will too if you don’t score 100.”

He picks up his backpack and leaves while you stood in distraught. The following night, after work, you immediately started on his assignment. You saw the assignment date and it was assigned 3 weeks ago. He wants you to do 3 weeks of work in 15 hours.

Somehow, you pulled through the night. Researching the best you can on the internet and trying to make it as best as you possibly could. You were able to send him the file at 11:30am so he could skim through it and hand it in.

You ended up leaving early for the day so you could go home and get some sleep. When you woke up the next morning, your nearly dead phone kept ringing over and over.

You pick it up and see hundreds of notifications on various social media’s and a few iMessages

Your thumb clicked on one of the iMessage notifications and there was Satoru’s name with the following message:

“I told you, only 100%”

Below the message was an image of his mark

A 98%

You swipe off of iMessage and open Instagram and boom

Hundreds of new follower requests, numerous dms and clicking of Gojo Satoru’s story, was the video of him blowing your back.

You checked Snapchat and there it was on his story too. You wanted to die. You wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself alive than live another day in this situation.

Later that day, you had received an email from the dean’s office regarding a “very sensitive and confidential” meeting that would be taking place tomorrow.

You had an idea of what it might be about but hope and prayed to god that it wasn’t what you were thinking.

But to your luck, this meeting was regarding your sex tape and how there is no longer a spot for you on the dean’s list or team.

Your whole world was crumbling apart. You spent your whole life to get to where you are today, only for him to ruin it in a matter of 12 hours.

You left the building slowly, still deeply thinking about what you could’ve done to prevent this. How stupid you are to go to that party and slap the Gojo Satoru.

“Why is this happening to me?”

All of a sudden, everything goes black.

You wake up in a hospital. Your head felt heavy and your arms was twitching. You look around and see… no one. The nurse catches a glimpse of your eyes and quickly walks in to check on you.

She explains that you were in an accident and that they tried to get in contact with an emergency contact but you hadn’t stated anyone. You stayed at the hospital overnight so they can monitor your brain activity and fortunately they were able to discharge you the next morning.

You took the rest of the week off from school and Gojo Satoru was losing his mind. He had spammed called you from various numbers but you weren’t answering your phone at all. He went from his usual mean insults to angry insults to pleading for a response back.

He doesn’t see you until Monday, with a bandage around your head and your arm in a cast which is also in a sling. He nearly runs to you, wanting nothing but to embrace you.

And he does. Holds onto you tightly, inhaling your shampoo until you knee his in the balls.

He immediately drops down and you completely lose your cool. “Don’t fucking touch me! I hate you! You ruined my life! You’re not allowed to touch me after you forced me to have sex with you and shared the video with the entire campus! You got what you wanted Satoru! You stole everything from me! Broke my entire world, burned my hard work down! Made me feel worthless! And now you want to act all concerned?! I hope you rot in hell!”

You ended up going home for the day, otherwise another headache would’ve set in. You took a quick lap before getting up and getting ready for work because those hospital bills weren’t going to pay themselves.

You had the closing shift and although working with one hand was quite the challenge, you desperately needed the money.

After closing up, the walk to your apartment is about 10 minutes away. Everything was going fine until a car quickly pulled up next to you, two men sprung out and shoved you into the car before you even had the chance to react.

One of them had his hand over your mouth while the other held your legs together.

You were blindfolded and tied in the car and after a while the car came to a stop and you were carried out.

You were thrown on the floor and when the blindfold was removed, you were met with his eyes again.

You immediately started crying. You were afraid and quite frankly exhausted of everything that’s happened over the last week.

“Please. I’m sorry. Just let me go. I’ll never ever bother you again. I’m sorry.”

You plead and beg but you hear his belt unbuckling. “Please! Please, I beg you Satoru! I’m sorry! I can’t- I can’t do it again please!”

You were left unheard. He threw you on the bed and tied your limbs to the bed. One of your arms was already in extreme pain and the other arm was starting to hurt too because of how tightly he tied you.

Every ounce of hope drained from your body when you felt his cock push into you. He pushed your head into the mattress and fucked you hard, like there was no tomorrow. Your tears soaked the mattress. Sweat, tears and snot covering your puffing face.

Satoru went on for hours. Abs glistening in sweat, his arm veins popping out because of how hard he was holding you. Not to mention his cock was coated with loads of cum.

You were passed out by the time he finished with you. Your body shaking on its on, cum dripping out your cunt and marks/bruises left all over your soft skin.

Hopefully his bunny learned her lesson.

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 3

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem!reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

Notes : Bonding over sibling drama, dramaa

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

The hat was lifted off from your head. Light hit your eyes and for a moment the whole world seemed to stop, the first thing you glanced at was James, who looked as if he's seen a troll, his eyes met yours and then he looked away, you knew about his hatred towards "the slimy snakes" and you knew it was gonna get bad.

The slytherin table erupted in loud cheers as you walked there, you sat at an empty seat, the guy beside you cheered,

"A potter in Slytherin, that's a first, Evan Rosier nice to meet you"

You nodded saying your name, Regulus was sitting beside Evan and someone called Barty, the girl sitting beside you was Amelia Bones who gave you a sweet smile as you introduced yourself, you two were engaged in conversation, but you kept glancing at James who determinedly avoided your gaze, Amelia noticed, "That's your brother right"

"Yes, he is" You replied dejectedly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll come around" Amelia clappped on your back.

"I hope so" You did hope so, although you knew how stubborn he can be.

The Slythein common room was grand and cold at the same time, you didn't notice much, too tired to pay attention, giving a goodbye nod to Regulus, you all shuffled towards your room. The rooms were quite warm, despite the walls and floors being made of stone and the windows being half submerged in the lake. A warming spell maybe.

You were excited to find one of your roommates to be Amelia who you deemed to be sweet and just, there was Merula, and there was Ismelda, whom you met on the boat.

"Y/N right, Merlin, I can't beleive you just jumped into the lake"

"Trust me, I didn't either" you groaned into your hands.

It was only due to always swimming at lake near your house, that you had the courage to jump into black lake. You sighed as you plopped down on your bed, tiredness seeping into your bones, so much trouble on the first day only, you guessed it really was a Potter thing.

The next morning inbetween classes, you tried your best to talk to James, however he was ignoring you as if you were a ghost, heck people pay more attention to ghosts,

"James, why won't you talk to me" you snapped, stomping on the ground, like a petulant child.

"I don't associate with the slimy snake house" James sneered turning to walk away. Needlessly to say, you went after him,

"For Merlin's sake, it's not like I'm in a cult, I didn''t choose to get sorted there?"

James turned back to glare, "I would have preffered to have you in a cult, rather than in Slytherin"

You glared back, "What if the cult would have consisted of Slytherins?"

James huffed, "It's barely been a day and you're already defending them" James walked away to his friends, ignoring your calls. Remus and Peter turned to look at you in what you deemed to be a bit of compassion. Sirius patted James's back, and you had to rush to your next class cause the bell rang.

The last class was droning on while you sat there, staring at your textbook in a disspirited manner. You almost jumped as you heard someone clear their throat behind you, glancing behind to see Regulus smiling sheepishly,

"Sorry, I was asking, shall we leave, everyone's gone" he said pointing at the empty classroom. You gave a docile smile, picking up your stuff, and going with him.

Regulus had known your futile attempts of talking to your brother, so he tried to alleviate you from your dire state,

"At least your situation is better than mine, Sirius wouldn't even look at me"

"But doesn't like almost your whole family was in Slytherin, it mean it was easy to assume you could be too?"

"He hoped I would be different like him and now that I'm not, he associates me with the rest of the family" He sighed. And here you were mulling, thinking only you had the short end of the stick.

You hummed, entangling his arm in yours, suddenly beaming up at him "Well, it's us two against them two"

Regulus chuckled, "Don't worry about it, we'll be fine, we fight, but then we settle, we always do". Although he smiled, his voice was a bit strained. You didn't say anything, tightening your hold on his arm, you tried to divert his attention,

"You know what, I have a plan for James, do you wanna know what I'm gonna do?"

Sirius chucked a ball at James who lazily caught it with ease, "What are you thinking mate?"

James sighed, "Do you think Lily likes me?" enticing a loud groan from Sirius.

As Sirius was about to respond, Remus saw something coming at the window, "Hey Potter, isn't that your owl?"

The owl came closer, and in its claws was a perfectly neat red letter. Peter shot from his chair, already closing his ears. James gulped, "We sure that's for me?"

"Better open it now, before it gets worse" Remus warned slowly moving away along with Sirius. James looked at them with an anguished look, accepting his dire fate,

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, HOW DARE YOU TREAT YOUR LITTLE SISTER LIKE THAT, A PERSON IS NOT TREATED ON THE BASIS OF THEIR HOUSE, ESPECIALLY YOUR OWN SIBLING, I EXPECT BETTER FROM MY OLDER CHILD, NOW GO APOLOGIZE TO HER OR ELSE I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU ONCE YOU COME HOME, also don't forget to eat and take care of yourself, mama loves you.

Also Sirius dear, I've send some cookies for you, I hope you enjoy them"

Taglist : @shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I really really hate to be that person - especially because I know a lot of people are under the impression that fanfic authors are greedy and we should be grateful for any comments we get, even if those comments are full of unauthorized concrit, even if they're kind of rude, even if they're weirdly self-shaming (sometimes insinuating that people should feel bad over reading the dark or smutty content in the fics or that we should feel bad for writing it in the first place even though you're also reading it??).

But like, lately, I have been getting so many comments along the lines of "this fic should be longer!!" "I wish this was a series!!" "please turn this into a series!" "I would read endless sequels of this!!!" - today someone literally commented on one of my fics saying that it was a war crime that the fic was 30k instead of being 'a whole series'. And I totally understand the mindset that if something is good, you want more of it. If you enjoy something, you want more of it. But these comments are definitely not as flattering as people think they are.

When reading those comments - it doesn't always come off as a compliment. Most of my fics range from 5k to 30k on average, and they are usually oneshots or oneshots that I have split into multiple parts in order to be more readable - most of my longer, ongoing series are abandoned because I didn't have the steam to maintain them. (Most people don't know at all how hard it is to write a good, coherent, well-plotted 100k fic and actually keep up with it.) After I post the fic I have written later this week, I will have written over 400k this year alone, with my entire AO3 having over one million words split between 79 different fics.

So often, having people look at my fics and having their only comment be to 'write more' - feels like an insult. Because I do write more. I have written more. I write consistently. (It just sucks that people have almost nothing to say about what I have already written.)

Having people look at my fics - usually very long fics - and go "hey, this would be better if it was longer!!" or "hey, that was good, but the only productive thing I have to say about it is: make it longer" - it always feels very discouraging.

It doesn't make me want to rush to write more of that fic. In fact, most of the time, I actively avoid working on sequels to fics where the only comments are 'more please' because I know the only thing people will say about the sequel is 'when are you gonna make more?' - and oftentimes, I don't intend to make more.

I have said this in another post, but the ending to my fics are always intentional. I don't write fics with the mindset of turning them into a 100 part series. I write fics with the mindset of making them like a film or a short TV series - telling a capsule of a story with a very intentional beginning, middle, and end. And if I write a sequel, it's because I feel there is more to be told - but I will also cap off that sequel with a very intentional ending.

(Also, don't get me started on the complex of - if fics don't have the classic 'happy ending' people feel like every single thread needs to be resolved until it gets to a more classic happy ending, when I love writing intentional melancholic and thoughtful endings.)

Also - in general, I feel like people don't understand how much work goes into a fic. It might take you about 2 hours to read a fic that's 30k (and a lot of people who are avid readers probably read faster than that, reading it in an hour or less) - but concepting that fic, writing that fic, and meticulously editing that fic so that it can be readable and pleasant for people takes upwards of 20 hours of work. I would say realistically, upwards of 30 hours. And those are just working hours - hours sitting at the computer actively working. That doesn't include the time spent in between workshopping the ideas in my head while I am doing other mundane tasks in life.

It's very, very easy to consume a 30k oneshot in one sitting and then hold out your plate and go "more please!!" without putting any thought into how much work went into the original fic.

All of this just to say - please think about these things next time you are commenting on a fic (or even closing a fic without commenting at all), or doing something stupid like generating a fic with AI - which steals from everyday hard working fanfic writers. Fanfiction is hard work - it's a labour of love, and it shouldn't be about blind consumerism where you finish one and then rapidly start looking for the next one. You should appreciate each one like a good, hand pulled taffy instead of gobbling them all down like cheap candy mass made by factory machines.

Yeah - I think that's it.

-your local over worked (but still passionate) fanfic writer

[ambers-archive]

what if all i need is you?

2 times the universe conspires against Spencer and the 1 time it doesn't. no use of y/n

"I think we’re lost," Spencer mumbled, stealing a glance at you, you’re in his passenger seat and you look like a dream he thinks. 

He hates driving, usually avoids it, but watching you smile next to him and hearing you sing along to his favorite songs makes him think it’s not all bad.

"You think?" You laugh, meeting his eye.

He had the date perfectly planned in his head – a tour around the city since you just moved here. Showcasing his favorite bookstore, two tickets to his favorite museum's exhibit, the whole thing.

However, things were not going as planned. He found himself driving in circles, twists and turns multiplying at every corner.

The universe was taunting him.

"I swear, these street signs are conspiring against me," he muttered.

“In the meantime, we should enjoy this,” you suggested, pointing to a barely visible café on the corner, proposing an impromptu coffee stop.

With a slight smile tugging his lips, Spencer nodded.

“You’re in Med school?

Spencer asked, trying to hide his amazement.

It all makes sense now, he thinks. Rarely does he find someone who matches him intellectually, even rarer for him to enjoy conversations with them.

“I am! I know it’s a cliché saying, but I just want to help people, I want to make a difference in the world.”

“It’s not cliché at all, that’s really noble.” Spencer replied, a genuine smile forming on his face. The passion in your voice is like a breath of fresh air for him.

You blushed at the compliment, warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Thank you. It's not easy, but it's worth it if I can make a positive impact, even in a small way."

As if you took the words right out of Spencer’s mouth, hearing you made him realize the reason he started the BAU. 

And oh how beautiful it is to have that passion.

For so long, his work had only consisted of repetition; the work that had brought him happiness was now draining him of it all. His thoughts are audible emanating from your lips.

To make a difference, and just for a little while, listening to you happily describe your passion, the horrors of his job, which once clutched his heart so deeply, slowly started to fade.

“Where to next, Doctor?” 

“I hope you like museums, I was able to get us tickets to one of my favorite exhibits.” 

“Lead the way.” 

“I agree; the universe is not happy with you right now,” you laughed, both stranded in the middle of nowhere as his car broke down under the afternoon sun.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he sighed, opening your car door. Taking his hand you led him towards the field, there were worse places to be stranded in you thought. 

“If we call for a cab right now, we can reach the museum in an hour, depending on traffic. We’ll miss the first half hour or so, but—”

“Spencer, look! The sun is setting.” You walked off into the distance, taking a seat near a tree.

“We’re going to miss the show.” He said disappointed. You looked up at him and the orange glow casted a beautiful hue over your face. Just when he thought you couldn't get prettier.

“No matter how much you try in life, you’re bound to miss something. Just take in the moment right now.” You say, patting the seat on the grass next to you.

To his own surprise, he obliges. 

He doesn’t mean to profile you, but it’s a reflex, a defense mechanism. Being around serial killers and rapists, he needs to know their every move. But right now, being in your apartment as you give him a tour, he lets go.

Realizing he doesn’t have to know everything about you right away; he can take his time.

He expected your room to be something like a catalog magazine, but books, plants, and paintings you've made surrounded you.

Messy maximalist, you called it.

Spencer learns you hate minimalism, you hate gray white empty spaces that don't feel like home.

He is almost envious of how carefree you are, willing to wear your heart out on your sleeve. Your guard has been down the whole time, a luxury Spencer can’t afford.

“Can I offer you some tea? I recently perfected my mom’s recipe for chai,” You asked, already boiling the water and getting your tea bags together.

“Tea sounds amazing.”

He looks around, forming a profile in his brain.

You’re messy, but you somehow find beauty in it. It doesn’t bother you; it makes sense, he thinks.

Artistic people are commonly messy.

“What books do you like?” Spencer asks, watching you get two mismatched cups out.

“I love classic literature, Persuasion is one of my favorites. I love Jane Austen and the way she captures love in its most pure form."

“How would you define love?” It’s a question that has been nagging him, he wants to pick apart your brain and know every thought.

He can tell you’re a hopeless romantic, and he now wishes he had accepted Garcia’s movie night invitation to watch Jane Austen movies.

He already has a sense, knowing you love classic period pieces, but he just wants to hear your explanation for it. 

“In Med school they teach us that love is a complex emotion, a bunch of hormones: dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin in the brain. I can’t say much about hormones but love is life, and it's just peaceful like the slow water going down a stream. But an immediate phenomenon, much like life itself. It fills and empties you all at once, swirling like a river's water after a storm. Your hands, heart, stomach, and skin are just a few places on your body where you can feel it. And it overtakes you so intensely. You don’t even realize it until you’re in it. You can’t exist without it, love is like breathing.” You sigh, a shy smile overtaking your lips “Sorry i tend to rant a lot.” 

Spencer meets your smile. It feels nice to be on the receiving end of someone rambling.  “I don’t mind one bit. I knew you were an artist but I didn’t peg you for a writer.”

“Have you been profiling me, Doctor Reid?” you ask, he smiles avoiding your gaze.

“Most writers are artistic people; that is, they are imaginative, creative, and productive when working in an environment that promotes self-expression. Not to mention you mentioned journalism being your minor, also I saw you had a typewriter.”

“You're amazing, Spencer,” you say, taking the kettle off the stove, pouring two cups of chai.

Spencer whispers your name, and you look over, your name falls so easily through his lips. This is what was missing from your life, you think.

“I think you’re one of the most unique people I’ve ever met.”

He says, taking your hand, interlocking your fingers.

You graze your thumb over his knuckles squeezing his hand, meeting his brown eyes. And as if the universe was on his side for once you lean forward, your lips meeting his. Lips meddling into each other as if it was made just for you.

The morning sun is beating down on his small car, and there you are sitting in his passenger seat laughing at his horrible jokes.

Your favorite songs playing in the background. You smile at him, and Spencer is lost again, but not because of the street signs. He's just lost in your smile.

This is what was missing from his life Spencer thinks.

[papastarion]

I know everyone has their different takes on Astarion’s character, and what they think his story should look like/what he would or wouldn’t do with his life after the events of the game, and I think they’re all valid. And not everyone is going to like your read or what you want him to pursue or be like after all is said and done. And there’s nothing wrong with that! Could you imagine how boring things would be if we all agreed? I personally love seeing the diversity of takes.

That being said, I am very much a fan of the idea of non-Ascended Astarion starting a family after everything, just me personally. Now, I know that’s a whole can of worms for people who don’t like that concept or who don’t like the idea of kids/pregnancy in their fiction. That’s completely fine. Funnily enough, I have no desire to have my own kids, but I love exploring that sort of lifestyle and the dynamic it creates when it comes to my characters in my own writing.

And I do think he wants kids, in my world state (to borrow a Dragon Age term), anyway.

I always go back to Astarion’s confession, when he says he wants “something real.” All those years where sex and love were nothing but a performance to seduce people and lure them to what he thought was their death. And now, with Tav/Durge, he wants the real thing. He wants to love and be loved.

He says he doesn’t know what “real” looks like anymore, which means he’s got to figure it out. And we know he isn’t much for plans, so that means a lot of what he learns is learned as he goes. That must extend to learning what he wants, too.

“I Want to Live” is the song that is consistently played in relation to his character development (despite being the players song.) Want. For all of those years, he was told by Cazador that he and his fellow spawn were a family. If he doesn’t ascend, then what he desires, and discovering what he wants, and taking what was false for so long and learning what the real version of it looks like to him all come together to make it easy for me to see him enjoying fatherhood.

He wouldn’t be Astarion without that prickly personality of his, but as his relationship with Tav/Durge progresses, you get to see the softness and sweetness he has in him, too. And I believe he really does mean it when he says he wants to protect them. He does genuinely care, as sarcastic and standoffish as he can be. That’s part of his personality and his character arc.

Now, do I think he likes all kids? Not at all. I think he likes certain kids, and for certain reasons. He may not encourage taking in Yenna, but he does insist on saving her from Orin. He seems to have a high opinion of Arabella. It depends on the kid. In a strange way, I think his own personhood being taken from him has made him view kids as more individual than most people tend to.

And I think he would adore his own kids because of who they are. They’re proof of how far he’s come, they’re proof that he’s alive and he’s living and that Cazador didn’t win in the end. He’s here. He won. He’s growing past everything.

And, most importantly: they’re his kid(s.)

Do I think he’s ever considered having children prior to having one, even before he was turned? I doubt it, honestly. But especially prior to his vampirism, I don’t think it matters whether he did or not. He can’t remember what color his eyes were, let alone what he wanted or who he was. And it doesn’t matter, he makes that much clear. He isn’t that person anymore, and he won’t ever get to be them again. So whether he had thought about children specifically or not, whether he wanted them or not, I don’t think that matters to him anymore.

He never saw himself as a hero, either, but he’s a Hero of Baldur’s Gate now. He cares. In his own way. And he defines and does things his own way in his life now. He’s still not your stereotypical hero, but he’s also no longer your stereotypical vampire. He wouldn’t be Astarion if he was easy to define. And after everything, he is still Astarion. He’s complex, and he can be quite contradictory and inconsistent. That’s both part of his personality and a result of the 200 years of trauma he survived, I think.

And again, he’s also not one for plans. I don’t think he considers being a father until Tav/Durge is telling him that he’s going to be one. And that kind of life-changing news can rattle even the people who have planned for it and wanted it their whole lives. Sure, I think it takes some getting used to, and I’m sure there are complex feelings that come with it. Rediscovering yourself and building a life are never easy. Living isn’t easy.

But this is another part of the life he’s living—really living. This isn’t the mockery Cazador forced the spawn to play pretend in, it’s a real family, his family. And I think that means everything to the person he chooses to be now.

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: How To Learn To Love Yourself & Heal From Toxic People

Allow yourself to feel all your emotions and thoughts, authentically and without self-criticism or judgment: Acknowledge that you're grieving. Accept that you need to mourn your loss. Even if it is better to move on in life without these people, it is healthy and completely valid to grieve the relationships you had with these people – regardless of whether they were one-sided, deluded, or otherwise toxic. Allow yourself to cry, be angry, lie in bed, etc. Hit a pillow, sleep in all day on a weekend, or wear a set of pajamas for a WFH day. Give yourself permission to engage in self-soothing behaviors without any type of self-harm or self-sabotage.

Rest, relax, and pamper yourself in your leisure time: Spend time taking it easy – reading, watching TV, doing a face mask or another indulgent skin treatment, using a body massager, cooking dinner in a silk robe and slippers, lighting a candle, cozying up in a blanket, etc. Allow yourself to feel at peace. Create a sanctuary in your space.

Take time for introspection and self-discovery: Being in any type of relationship with toxic people is draining and can cause you to feel as though you've lost a part of yourself by trying to make the relationship succeed. Now, it's time to reclaim yourself after you've courageously cut out these toxic people from your life. Consider and honor your deepest desires, values, interests, hobbies, lifestyle, goals, aesthetic, food, sexual, entertainment preferences, etc. Go on a self-discovery journey to figure out who you really are, what you believe, and who you will work to become as you enter this new, exciting chapter of your life.

Journal, read, eat healthily, work out, drink plenty of water, and sleep: Go back to the basic healthy habits. Try to journal for at least 5-10 minutes a day (using a 5-minute journal, morning pages [writing 3 pages of stream-of-conscious thoughts first thing in the morning], journal or shadow work prompts), make 2-3 whole food, plant-based meals with carbs, veggies, fruits, proteins, and healthy fats, find some ways to incorporate movement into your day – 30-minute walk or yoga session is enough if that's all you can manage consistently, have your body weight in ounces of water daily, and sleep for around 7-8 hours a night. Do some inner child healing by taking care of your core needs.

Indulge in all of your favorites: There's a lot of fun you can have when you have total freedom regarding your daily activities and choices. Give yourself permission to enjoy this solitude. Wear your favorite outfits every day (occasion-appropriate options, of course), including pajamas, loungewear, lingerie, and accessories. Make your favorite meals and snacks throughout the week (incorporating some healthy options in there to feel your best – I love a good oatmeal bowl, frozen grapes, baked Japanese sweet potato, or a hummus and vegetable plate). Watch your favorite TV shows or movies. Indulge in a glass of wine you love or reread a favorite book. Create a masterful playlist. Plan a day of your favorite activities (a long walk, getting a coffee, indulging in a spa day, going to a farmer's market, going to a yoga class, etc.) Treat yourself like your own best friend.

Get comfortable doing things alone: Honestly, no one cares or is paying attention to if you're doing activities alone or with someone else. If someone shows too much interest in your solitude, they're probably projecting their own insecurities regarding their perceived social ridicule. Take yourself shopping, to the nail salon, out for a meal, to the movies, etc. alone. Personally, I love doing most of these things alone anyways. Running errands alone gives you some space to clear your mind and think freely.

Define what an ideal social life and/or relationship looks like for you: Once you've become comfortable with yourself and living life on your own terms, it's time to embrace your desire for human connection and socialization. Consider the types of people you want in your life – their values, personalities, interests, goals, favorite activities, relational boundaries, etc., and where/when/how often you want to interact with them.

Create an action plan: Reconnect with the people in your life who continue to show up for you and have been a light through these toxic relationships and their lasting effects over the months or years. Decide on the places, groups, and ways you'll reach out/try to meet these people. Figure out how to expand your network, and make new connections. Don't be afraid to put yourself out there. You won't vibe with everyone you meet, but it is worthwhile to engage in small talk with several strangers if even one of these new faces, later on, becomes a good friend or acquaintance. A varied social circle is a great way to enrich your life.

Take small steps, then strides: Be gentle on yourself throughout this entire process. It is perfectly okay to take one day at a time during the grieving process. Everyone's healing journey will look different and evolve at a different pace. Don't let these toxic people remain in your heart, mind, and spirit. Remember that you deserve love, kindness, happiness, success, peace, and patience.

[blixabargelds]

hi! can I ask why some many people think that Roman has an ed? not a criticism, just genuinely curious cause I never noticed any signs!

i first started thinking it from day one for no reason other than i hc lots of my faves with eds because i love angst and have suffered with eating disorders therefore i like to project/ find it easy to write etc haha but over the course of the show there’s been lots of things tbh.

very early on in the show we see him bodychecking pinching his stomach etc he looks unhappy with his body. he’s very rarely seen eating anything other than fruit, frequently at tables he’s the only one not eating. this gifset is a really good show of that.

the roy’s in general all seem to have poor relationships with food, which has been confirmed in the recently released script books (“the summer of competitive eating disorders”), but roman especially has several fraught memories relating to food (being forced to eat chocolate cake (dog food?), getting beaten for ordering lobster, “if you wanted roast chicken and i wanted steak we always had chicken, i would fucking tantrum because i never had steak, i never won.”)

i think kieran did irreparable damage with this interview (he’s so smart, this was also over a year ago, before the scripts released anything canon).

roman’s relationship to his body is consistently distant and negative (he’s not a real person). he was, as far as we know, the only one who got hit by logan. he’s the shortest, he was sent away to military school which is notoriously regimented and harsh on the body, he was shoved into a cage, he was beaten, and depending on your reading into it there’s also plenty of hints that he might have been sexually abused in some way. he’s seen as the weak dog. he’s constantly treated as such.

i think having control over food is a way he could take control over a body that’s never felt like his, that no one else has ever respected so why should he? i don’t think it’s all about being thin, although we definitely see signs of him being obsessed with his image. he was never going to be the biggest, the manliest, but he could be in control. an eating disorder could be his private thing, the thing he could do well at, no one knows how strong he’s actually being by denying what his body needs. that’s impressive, okay? that counts for something, surely.

he seeks comfort in harm, he doesn’t know what his dad means when he asks if he even made contact, he’d already forgotten, promise. he asks to be degraded, he jumps into a mob asking to be hurt, he needs it, he’s been taking beatings his whole life, he speaks this language. he’s got the gift of the gab when it comes to destroying himself. he’s hurt and he’s hurting but he chose it, he’s got control. he has.

[youremyheaven]

female (yin)-centric exercises and movement practices

i am personally all for the burgeoning popularity of somatics and i think the rise of pilates is wonderful.

for a long time, "exercise" meant hitting the gym and painfully enduring sessions that felt like physical torture. unless you're a high performance athlete, i dont really see the merit in resistance training tbh. obviously everybody has different tastes and preferences and some people probably find somatics and pilates too boring and slow and want something more high intensity which is 👍🏼

however, for many of us who struggle to keep up with these and repeatedly admonish ourselves for being "lazy" due to our inability to thrive or be consistent or enjoy these workouts, there are manyyyy other forms of practices that are wonderful and fun to do and are perhaps better suited for our bodies, temperaments, lifestyles etc

first of all, the concept of "exercise" has become synonymous with either losing weight or making gains. we are told that we have to "exercise" to stay fit. but exercise can mean manyyy different things, its not just cardio and weights. and this means a lot of people think if you're not trying to gain or lose anything, you dont "need" to "exercise".

but this is not true, i think "movement" is a better word and everybody regardless of their weight, age, gender or whatever else needs to move their bodies. we were not meant to just sit, stand and lay down, we need to move. not to serve some moral purpose of "fitness" (another flawed concept) but because its spiritually, physically and emotionally bad for us to not move. we feel more alive when we move. our culture has become so dopamine fried, sex addicted, toxic eating and drug abusing in large part because our lifestyles are so sedentary and we crave stimulation. we wouldnt depend on external substances to feel "alive" if we felt that aliveness within us every day.

you dont need to "exercise" but you def need to move!!! when we dont, we feel lethargic, stagnant, our joints (from years of inactivity) become more sensitive, our body hurts, our immunity suffers and aging can bring aches of all kinds but this does not have to be anybody's reality. we change this!!

you're not lazy for not exercising, if you liked how doing an activity made you feel, you would do it all the time. dont punish yourself!!!

i personally think strength training works for many people. this can mean, swimming, cycling, hiking, dancing, pilates, yoga, barre etc

now about somatic movement practices,

somatics is all about the mind-body connection and intentional movement. pilates (which was basically developed from yoga) and yoga are examples of somatic practice

but there are other methods as well:

Rolfing

Alexander method

Feldenkrais method

Laban movement analysis

Fascia training (myofascial release)

and somatic practices also include things like progressive muscle relaxation, emotional freedom technique, body scanning etc

i know it can all be a little overwhelming but tbh there is a lot of overlap between all of these practices so dont feel like you're missing out by not trying them all,, stick to what feels right for you and focus on that.

yin yoga and restorative yoga (very similar but also different) are also helpful

the reason i put "female centric" in the title is bc i feel like the world of diet and exercise is dominated by a masculine worldview of doing things the hard way/aggressive way and by acting with resistance/restraint instead of a more open/whole approach and valuing "slow" progress over quick and easy ones. the reason why ppl hit the gym make quick progress and then relapse is bc its genuinely difficult to put up with a gym routine for most people who aren't physically immune to pain. movement does not have to "hurt", be "draining" or a proof of your willpower as a human being. its fun, easy, natural, fulfilling and a part of life<333 you can proceed more slowly and make progress over time but tbh you'll be lost in the flow so you wont bother checking to see if you have and life is long so there's no rush!! what we gain slowly will last us forever!! bc we alter our body's alignment and our own relationship with it + our lifestyle/routine to truly embody it instead of a "crash and burn" style that leads to burnout.

remember, the river wears out the rocks not through force but simply by flowing<3

anybody can do these exercises btw, not just women lol

if you have doubts or questions, feel free to ask me <333

[starsworldd]

hello!!! this is my first astrology post bc im bored af lol 🌸

please take these observations with a grain of salt!! they may resonate some may not :)) i put orbs (for conjunctions only) as suggestions but ofc feel free to use ur own interpretations and guidelines <3

general observations:

- mars trine pluto (specifically in fire signs)in men >>> the sex appeal is so **chefs kiss**

- 10th stelliums tend to care a lot about their image. they can attract a lot of online attention too!!

- pluto opposite ascendant or conjunct the midheaven attract a lot of toxicity from other people. pluto on the mc is on a broader scale regarding your reputation as a whole, but on the descendant i’ve noticed it affecting one on one relationships whether that be friends or partners.

- ^^ to add on to the pluto on the descendant observation, the native can also get really obsessive crushes on other ppl.

- i love pisces moons so much they’re really easy to talk to while also having depth and insight when needed <33 such a lovely placement.

- jupiter in 5th house natives tend to date a lot of ppl👀 could also be indicative of talent in the arts (i have this placement :p)

- neptune in the 6th house could have hypochondria or a lot of health anxiety

- people who have planets/asc in your fourth house tend to make really good friends :))

- aquarius venus tend to fall in love with ppl in their friend circles

- do NOT argue with pluto in third house people they will win oml they’re so dedicated

lunar return observations: (orbs: 1-3)

- this is gonna be an odd one but if you have saturn switching between conjuncting your ic/mc for 3-4 consecutive months it can show major adjustments in your home/private life or career for those months ahead.

- fifth house ruler in the fifth house or part of fortune can indicate talking to someone romantically for that month ;)) (ofc 5th house also rules over creativity so maybe as an alternate outcome, it can signify focus on creative endeavors too!!)

- part of fortune in 1st house can also bring confidence and overall good feelings about yourself

- pluto opposite the ascendant can bring a new person/people into your life or bring back an old friend group/friendship but can also indicate ending a connection with someone depending on context.

- pluto in 12th house can signify poor mental health for that month :(

- saturn in 12th can show major sleep deprivation for that month

- jupiter conjunct mc 🤝 achieving big goals for that month (and maybe getting some recognition for it too, but mostly ACHIEVING THOSE GOALS!!!)

- moon in the first house can mean crying yourself to sleep every night or feeling on top of the world (depending on planets in 1st house and aspects to moon for that month)

- neptune in 4th house can bring a really dreamy, “sleepy” and relaxing vibe in your home life.

- mars/chiron/mars conjunct chiron opposite the mc can mean a big fight at home might happen that month :(

solar return observations: (orbs: 1-3)

- moon in the 6th house can make it dififcult to be consistent with daily routines and doing work throughout the year

- uranus in 12th is sooooo difficult i had this last year and i was mentally so exhausted and stagnated

- venus opposite uranus may mean some sort of major break off with a close friend/partner or going through mutliple friend groups/friendships (like getting with one friend group then breaking off with them and joining another one and so on…if that makes sense?)

- mars opposite ascendant may make the native feel like another person or some sort of third party is getting in the way of their plans for the year. this is a really aggravating aspect, had these last year and i felt like school was getting in the way of my artistic goals but yet i still had to put the majority of my energy (mars) into something else (descendant) which was school for me in this case.

- pluto conjunct mc in the 9th house can indicate a major change in life direction. it may not manifest into reality but this is more of a mental change of where you want to go in life.

- sun conjunct mercury can mean a year with a lot of work ahead.

- sun square moon can mean big changes happening (whether that be home, school, career, etc..) but can also show a v stressful year

- pluto conjunct mc can also indícate divorce

- pay attention to where your part of fortune is!! whatever house it’s in may show which area of life will go really well for you (ofc depending on aspects)

- stelliums in houses can show reoccurring themes for that year.for example, i had a third house stellium for my 2019 solar return chart which was the year that i got serious about songwriting!! a lot of my energy was put into writing lyrics and music and also communicating with others too hehe.

i hope you’ve enjoyed reading these :) i think some of these observations are very obvious. maybe i’ll try and research some more insightful ones in the future <3 bye for now!🎀

[hongcherry]

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

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

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

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

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

🍒 WC: 14.8k

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

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

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

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

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

Today is no different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, this is it.

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

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

People skills are not your forte.

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

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

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

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

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

“No, do you?” you wonder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, it’s too loud in here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This semester?” you ask out of curiosity.

The professor shakes her head. “Ever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lee Jihoon?” you ask.

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

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

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

“Fashion design,” you answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you never settle for less than the best.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great!” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Music, check. Now, what’s next?

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

“Yn!” she calls out cheerfully.

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

“Hey,” you say to her.

“How’s your project going?” she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I haven’t seen their work yet—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yejun glances at his watch and then nudges Jeonghan.

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

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

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

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

“I understand, but—”

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

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

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

Home is somewhere you don’t enjoy being.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yn—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A knock on the door stops you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And who are you?” you question apathetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great. Do they all know each other?

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

“What are you doing here?” Hana wonders.

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” Jeonghan replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can decide that now,” Hana suggests.

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

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

A few minutes, my ass.

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

“Have some respect,” Hajun scolds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice chains,” he compliments with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

Seungcheol… He isn’t as bad. 

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

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

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

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

“Those are neat,” you compliment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” Seungcheol greets.

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

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

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

“Must I need something?” he retorts.

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

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

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

“Always straight to the point,” he chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re perfectly content being unruffled.”

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

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

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

Well, he was handsome until he opened his mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About that,” he starts sheepishly.

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

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

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

“Seriously, Seungcheol?” you exasperate.

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

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

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

“Put this in your bag,” you instruct. 

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?” you sigh sadly.

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

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

“Come on. I’m not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Business.”

That’s not what you want to hear.

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

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

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

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

“No?” he asks, perplexed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thus, hesitantly, “Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You too, Seungcheol.”

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

That Friday comes sooner than you would’ve liked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not that cold,” you lie again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

“No, it was my fault.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean it,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need help locating them?”

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

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

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

Yet the saying is not encouraging you much right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look fine. You look nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you answer slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” you answer quickly.

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

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

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

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” you say.

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

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

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

Sighing, you reply. “Okay.”

“Good. Talk to you later!”

“Yeah,” you say before hanging up.

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

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

“Hey, you okay?” he asks. 

Nodding, your eyes roam for a spot to sit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a—” she starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, understanding his words.

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

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

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

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

She laughs. “Who? Your mother?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You waste no time careening for the exit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just what you need.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He exhales a deep breath. “Let’s just get in the car, okay?”

“You can admit it,” you challenge and walk closer to him. “Does talking shit about someone make me a bad person, Seungcheol?”

He stares down at you, soft gaze turning dark with annoyance.

“To the car, Yn,” he demands slowly just in case you won’t understand; his tone is sharp in a way you haven’t heard before. You don’t let that scare you away. Maybe if you weren’t so fired up, you would have been a little intimidated.

You laugh darkly and roll your eyes at his command. “You want me to sit next? Bark, too?”

“Now, you’re just being dramatic.”

Dramatic, he says.

“Woof?” you reply, dramatically giving him the best puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches at your response—not pleased with your sarcasm. However, instead of replying in an annoyed tone, he takes a step forward. His head draws closer to your face to ensure your eyes are glued to his.

“Wanna be a good girl and go to the car, Cherry?” he murmurs lowly, an eyebrow quirking up for a second.

His sudden change in tone has you stiffening. You want to bite back—figuratively or literately… you aren’t sure yet—but you can’t even remember what you are mad about in the first place.

“Hm?” he croons when you don't reply quickly.

Rather than a sarcastic reply, you simply grumble, “whatever,” before pushing past him to get to his car.

You stand next to the passenger side like before, waiting for him to unlock it. Seungcheol comes beside you and swiftly unlocks the vehicle. Although you aren’t arguing at the moment, you can sense some irritation lingering from him.

You get the feeling he'll always hold the door open no matter how annoyed he is with you.

You feel suffocated.

The air in the car is too hot. The weight of his jacket has you overheating. The tension is unbearable.

Seungcheol keeps his eyes on the road, not throwing you a single glance as he drives. Every once in a while he will tighten his hold on the steering wheel. One time you even catch the way his muscles flex at the motion—now exposed from not wearing his jacket. You never realized how fit he is. This isn’t the first time you have seen him sleeveless, but you just never stared long enough to notice. Or if you did, you simply didn’t care. Regardless, you notice now, and you have to force your eyes away before he catches you staring.

You want to ask for music so you don’t have to sit in this insufferable silence, but your mouth feels dry. You decide to just deal with the quietness, shifting in the seat so you’re facing the window more. Your eyes drift close as you let the hum of the car distract you. 

Seungcheol’s jacket is snuggled around you, and his woodsy cologne fills your senses. It’s pleasant, and you don’t mind if you smell more of it in the future.

By the time you arrive home, you are on the verge of sleep. You stumble out of the car and shut the door without saying a word to Seungcheol. You expect him to drive off, but the sound of his tires moving never comes. Instead, you hear his car door opening and closing.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you say while you glance behind you. Seungcheol is following you languidly.

“No, I don’t,” he says and pauses at the bottom of your porch steps. He places a foot on the first step while a hand holds onto the rail. You have your keys out, ready to slide them into the keyhole when you speak.

“Then don’t,” you reply sternly.

He chuckles lowly but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You can go now,” you say when he doesn't move.

“You have something of mine.”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a second. Seungcheol gestures to your body, and you quickly remember you’re wearing his jacket. You tug it off and toss it to him. He grabs it from the air with ease. The loss of heat makes you wish he didn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Cherry,” he murmurs as soon as you click open your door. You step inside before turning to face him.

The nickname you used earlier forms on your tongue, yet you can’t find the courage to say it consciously.

“Night,” you answer, then shut the door before either of you can say anything else.

With your head bowed, you turn the lock slowly while you exhale deeply. His nickname falls from your lips under your breath—unable to keep the desire at bay.

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

A/N: Can't believe the first chapter is actually published 😭 I sat and stared at this for a few before hitting "post" because I'm so anxious! dfl;kbjdvs. Please feel free to share your thoughts on it so far!

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (couldn't tag :c), @cheolcherries (tysm!!!)

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[sgiandubh]

Hi!

Fitness anon here… 

Perks of living in Europe and having more than one kid I can actually assure you that everything a certain blogger emphasises as special we do here more or less regularly.

We drive more than two hours on a weekend to go to a beach, visit friends or basically have a nice time with family and friends away from home. Our kids are familiar with this way of life from an early age and adapt in general very well. 

Europeans are really capable of handling these kind of things all at once and we really like to have this kind of experience with our kids like a short sightseeing trip, visiting capitals of our neighbouring countries, exploring different countrysides or visiting historical places or museums.  So nothing special or unusual at all. 

But maybe for some blogger who is not interested in actual facts, it is just mind-blowing and does not fit into the agenda.

I am really sorry (not!) if I have destroyed an illusion someone wanted to create for some people. 

And also as usual - as pointed out in previous posts - all of the reels were down by herself. No doubt about it.

Dear (returning) Fitness Anon,

Thank you, as always for coming back with more witty insight. Lifestyles across the world vary and, of course, US vs Europe is no exception.

But when you are THE Troll of an entire fandom and you do have a history for being used to promote various convenient narratives, you certainly do not bother explaining these to your essentially US-based followers. Who could not care less about anything, unless it fits their own limited views, I am very sorry to say it.

I remember lots of week-ends spent with family and friends, when I was a child. Yes, even in a dark, grey Eastern European country with severe food shortages during the second half of the 80s: we made do and God, we were resourceful!

So much so, in fact, that I kept the week-end travel habit for life. Probably dozens of city breaks, at home and abroad. Never regretted a thing.

That being said, a divorced parents' child would perhaps need to keep a consistent routine of sorts. I remember the absurd fuss about it when I was one of those children, a long time ago, even if my father never wanted shared custody. He just, heh: he just left and that's it. But this is just me, maybe - still, something strikes me as odd, in all this.

And yeah, I totally agree. Clearly a dynamic duo trip: why do people have to make a whole bunch of crazy speculations about it is certainly beyond me.

Here, Anon, to say thanks for dropping by. A random sunset pic from a week-end trip to the Danube Delta. Evening boat tour on Lake Razelm, something not easy to sort out. But my fingers itch already for the wheel, all summer long. To entice all of you with off the beaten track stuff from home:

(Year is 2012, I think)

[whitedemon-ladydeath]

Preparing, Cooking and Curing Venison

ok so I'm from rural Iowa, right. and Hunting is a big, big thing. I have a very vivid memory of a hunter hanging a deer upside down in his backyard to bleed it dry

and while rereading the first few chapters and reading the "few hours" in terms of curing the meat, it had me a bit 🤨. even tho I had never hunted myself, it did trigger an alarm in my head so I went deep diving. never in my life did I think I'd be looking into curing meat and here we are

there's several ways to cure meat but the most traditional is dry curing with salt. I see 'traditional' I see 'old school'. This is like medieval times so it seemed the most logical and ideal form of curing

1) eating raw venison is a Risk. no one who is actually versed in hunting and eating game is going to risk getting sick when they're already starving. Diarrhea and loss of fluids is a huge risk factor

2) Feyre said she alloted a "few hours" to curing meat. it needs a MINIMUM of 24 hours to 5 DAYS in order to properly cure. as stated above, would people be willing to pay for a "few hours of curing" when 1) curing meat was a common practice 2) with it being a common practice are people really going to gamble with a "few hours" of curing with the risks of illness from unproperly preserved meat 3) it needs a ton of salt in order to do cure. Salt was a luxury for a lot of medieval folks. it probably cost them a decent sum to be able to aquire

while venison is "easy" to cook, it can be tricky as it can easily get overcooked and very tough. As we can see, it's roasted. roasting is predominantly done in an oven or a crockpot. considering it's medieval times, I'm gonna guess an oven. Ovens were very rare and very expensive in the home and community ovens are more likely to be used.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say they cooked it over a fire. it's a few minutes to prevent over-cooking. it's not a typical food that would be cooked in a more lavish lifestyle and since Feyre could not cook, I'm going to wager that it took a little bit of trial and error for one of the sisters to learn how

"but Atlas!" you say. "Its just fantasy. Who CARES if it's not accurate!"

don't care

she could have done the research needed for hunting if her main character is gonna be flouncing around as a "huntress"

I feel like this is just further elaboration of SJM speed running the beginning of acotar to get to Bigger Plot Points tbh. she makes being a Huntress™️ Feyres whole ass theme that Jumpstarts the series. She cannot cook. She cures the meat. her sisters and father get labeled as Lazy. so who cooks?

a little bit of consistency pls

[quanticq]

Hey Q! Sorry for bothering you, but for some reason I can no longer find any of your tik tok accounts 😭 Did they get deleted or something?

Hi this is Q! I’m coming out of the woodwork to address this, since I did went radio silent out of the blue so it’s not a bother at all

The short answer is Yes, I deleted my tiktok

Yes delete not deactivate, I’m not coming back to That app or IG or Twt, I deleted my socials except here and YouTube, I honestly felt so overwhelmed with everything, I realized I’m not even posting for myself anymore there. A lots of people crossed my boundaries time and time again I felt so helpless, bitter with myself. I guess I was just overwhelmed with the attention I got; both positive and negatives ones.

Im done and I want to start over so that’s why I’m here and on YouTube, I already posted some of these on my community tab on YT but here’s what I have in mind for the future of the content I want to create: more detail under the cut, and also;

CW: very brief mention of spiraling, harm inflict oneself or others, paranoia, etc

•Long-form content: my attention span is a bit messed up from consuming and making short-form content to the point where I can’t focus in university. I want to create something meaningful. It’s not that my previous content was not meaningful, no. I had fun and no time is wasted when I have fun, it was warm… but as I mentioned earlier, I just felt this lingering bitterness the longer I stayed making those short-form content. It really felt like I was on the verge of losing it. Especially with how the bigger following I have the less people think of me as a person than just another content creator you see on the internet,

I want to create long-form content, I’m so tired of forcing myself to generate 15 second content. On tiktok it just feels like I’m just creating and not really connecting. I want to try something new, maybe create an open space for meaningful discussion in the comments. I don’t think I can stand another copy-paste tiktok comment anymore. You know what I meant if you’re frequent on that app.

•Art Content with Commentary: and don’t worry this won’t be those petty artist drama issue, but I will still cover anything serious

it could be love letters or video essays ranging from fan fictions, fandom culture, the art scene and so much more. I may even share a bit of my personal life, this will be self indulgent after all! I want to make it fun for myself and as well to those who comes across my channel. I really REALLY want to create a genuine following.

On tiktok it’s so easy to gain following but not so easy to retain them, it’s mostly because of the algorithm and the FYP feature there.

On Tiktok most content that would get featured as an artist there would be creative work has to be either; more than exceptional which is pressuring enough already to consistent posters, straight up suggestive content shown to minors (tiktok doesn’t really have a blocked keywords feature but it’s so disheartening to see these creators intentionally not using the sensitive warning since it could limit their reach significantly) oh yes we can’t forget the negativity surrounding beginner artists or “art lore”

All of this cesspool of negativity, it’s a whole can of worms but it will be one of my prominent topics that I wish to discuss in my future art commentaries. I hope you guys are looking forward to those! I might bring in a few people or so to talk about it with me

and finally;

•Streaming: I used to do a lot of streams during the weekends on the clock app and it was super fun! I want to bring that back but that would have to wait since I’m unfamiliar with some features on YouTube, and I’m aware that YT does not have a discoverable feature for stream but that’s alright, I want to start something small first.

In short; I’ll figure it out! just need some baby steps before I start streaming again.

.

I apologize for deleting everything out of the blue, if I’m gonna be honest it was partially planned because I’ve been thinking about deleting my tiktok, twitter and Instagram for a while now but how it happened? In my breakdown I realized that I don’t want anyone to see me spiral, especially now that I realized how young my audience are, I’m not sure how that happened but I guess posting fandom contents does attract the young ones somehow inevitably, even though my content is nowhere near as suggestive, but I do talk about serious topics from time to time… but I digress, its not fair for them to deal with me if they see me spiral publicly,

it is especially not fair to them to console me. When I was younger than 14, I’ve been in a position where I have to talk down someone who was older, maybe 4-5 years older than me, from harming themselves or anyone, it was traumatizing and unpleasant. I don’t wish for anyone to go through that, it’s very painful.

It’s been… hard for me to ground myself. Ive been seeing things through a kaleidoscope of emotions; I was trying to focus on everything but it’s just too overwhelming so eventually I cracked. But please don’t worry I’ve been doing better now, after some time away from my online persona, and of course spending time with my beloved girlfriend, I see things much more clearly now.

Thank you to anyone who read this and much so appreciate those who understand where I’m coming from

Also now that I think of it can my stuff be considered as lost media now? Amazing! But please don’t be sad the fun I had was genuine!

Thank you again to those who genuinely enjoyed my content on tiktok but it’s time for me to try my hand at something new, I will still be dwelling in my creative headspace just.. away from public for now,

if you’re looking forward for my future post, make sure to check out my YouTube! I still have a lot I need to cook hehe, this is one of the few!

More post soon, Bye bye! -Q